#guy who has problems disorder meets guy who has problems disorder. what happens next will shock you

[wovenstarlight]

Hello! I'm thinking about your cached AU again and I was wondering, what is Yoojin's relationship with Song Taewon with like? Because their relationship in canon (at least up to where I've read) is heavily influenced by the fact that Yoojin is an F rank who holds power over S Ranks, making him both a threat and someone to protect. Does Taewon just go red alert whenever Yoojin around now? Does Yoojin keep trying to be friends with him? Does Taewon find that terrifying?

HAHAHAHAHHA. OH BOY. THIS SURE IS A QUESTION THAT HAS AN ANSWER. a very long answer so i'm putting it under a cut. thanks for waiting and im sorry if its incoherent its like 6ish local time. or maybe not im not very concerned wth reading clocks rn

(on ao3)

——

Be careful.

Taewon had wondered, when he received that message from Sung Hyunjae, if it was some sort of joke. A sly way of telling him he’d made trouble somewhere and he’d better prepare for the incoming paperwork, perhaps. The fact that it had been encoded suggested some degree of seriousness to it, but it was vague enough that he’d dismissed it and gotten ready for this long-delayed meeting.

Taewon locks eyes with Han Yoojin and is immediately struck by the complete lack of fear he finds there. So much so that he barely notices when Sung Hyunjae crushes his car with the breezy efficiency of a compactor.

And even as Sung Hyunjae gets out of his own car, even as he turns that amused, glittering gaze onto Han Yoojin, no apprehension sparks to life. No nerves. Just a cool, faintly disappointed look that he turns on the Seseong Guild Leader.

It stops the man in his tracks. Song Taewon blinks at Sung Hyunjae, faint smile frozen on his face, and looks back at Han Yoojin, who’s gazing at him now with a welcoming smile on his face.

…So that was a real warning, then.

Surely it can’t be for what Taewon thinks it is.

—

Taewon was told Han Yoojin was an A-rank. While the Hunter Association staff had confirmed his stats were well within standard range, they’d also made no secret of gossiping about how even the A-rank he’d come in with had looked vaguely spooked. How Han Yoojin carried himself with that unthinking confidence and grace all S-ranks had. How, when Seok Gimyeong had gone to personally take him through the registration process, Han Yoojin’s expression had gone flat and stony, and while he’d cooperated, something in his demeanor had had everyone around him going quiet and hurrying through the steps as fast as possible.

What it boils down to, in the end, is a sense that he’s not what he seems.

What Taewon thinks it is, quite simply, is a high-rank fear-inducing skill. Han Yoojin has no reason to claim he’s lower-ranked than he actually is, not when being higher-ranked would mean getting fast-tracked to a much better lifestyle than what he had before.

What Taewon realizes upon meeting Han Yoojin is that either he was very, very wrong about the other man’s ambition (or lack thereof, as it happens), or that the fear induction skill is far more potent than anyone let on.

“Chief Song-nim?”

Taewon stares at Han Yoojin. He’s merely standing there with a bag of instant coffee in hand, gazing at Taewon over his shoulder, and yet, if Taewon’s phone was in his hand right now, he’d probably have crushed it. As it is, he realizes distantly, his nails are digging little crescents into his palms. “Han Yoojin-ssi,” he gets out, and then stalls immediately.

He’d come here with the assumption that Han Yoojin was an A-rank. Which means all his questions (I wanted to check, are you safe, are you being pressured, why did such a high-rank monster appear in a dungeon with only two S-ranks in it and how did you kill it anyway?) were tailored for an A-rank. For someone that needed protection.

Is something wrong, he’d wanted to ask.

Is something wrong with you? is what his mind supplies now.

“Are you—alright,” he manages eventually.

Han Yoojin stares back at him, fingers tensing faintly around the bag as Taewon speaks. “I… yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“…With… the Babar’s appearance in that last dungeon.” It gets easier to speak once he’s started. “And all the higher-ranks you’ve been around lately. I’d understand if you were feeling—stressed, or strained.”

“Ah.” Han Yoojin relaxes. “No, I’m alright. It’s been quite busy, but I’ve adjusted well enough, I think. Thank you for your concern.”

Truth, Taewon thinks. He seems too confident for it to be anything but. But how can that be? To face an SS-rank monster as a supposed A-rank—

“Are you sure?”

Han Yoojin glances at him out of the corner of his eye. The tension isn’t back, but there’s a frown tugging at his lips. Taewon forcibly uncurls the fists his hands have balled into, and continues. He needs a reference. He needs to know what Han Yoojin looks like when he’s lying. “The Babar alone was an SS-rank, and you may have had your brother and ward with you, but even then, facing such a monster as an A-rank—”

And there it is, the slightest creases around his eyes, how he looks down and to the side slightly before meeting Taewon’s gaze once more, lips thinning into a line. Taewon’s so busy thinking over their conversation so far, matching these markers against what’s been said, that he doesn’t realize what he’s saying—

“…seeing them fight… They may be your family, but they’re S-ranks before that. Which makes them dangerous, more than you know—”

Until it’s too late.

“What are you trying to say, Chief Song-nim?” Han Yoojin asks, letting go of the bag of coffee and turning to face him properly. His voice has taken on a sharp edge, and Taewon steps backwards before he even consciously acknowledges the sound. Han Yoojin just steps forward to match, bringing him dangerously close— “If there’s a point to this, I’d like if you could—”

Taewon has a hand around his throat.

Han Yoojin raises a hand (touching? grabbing?). Seize his wrist, twist his arm, shift the grip on his neck, until Han Yoojin is pinned face-down against the counter, cheek pressed against its surface.

Then Taewon realizes he’d moved to begin with.

“…What are you doing?”

Han Yoojin’s flat question kills Taewon’s hasty apology before it can even leave his mouth. His grip tightens instead of loosening. Some quiet part of his brain is counting out the handful of people and low-rank Hunters present in the building today. A much louder part of his mind says he’s testing the hold.

Han Yoojin flexes his hand again, shifting easily even in Taewon’s grip, and he—

He panics.

Looting flares, black not-smoke wreathing his fingers and Han Yoojin’s limbs. Vague surprise flickers over Han Yoojin’s face before his eyes rise to a point in the air before himself, likely checking his status window. Whatever he sees there has his eyes widening sharply.

And then, all at once, something closes off in his face, and he goes limp.

A different kind of alarm spikes through the white-out fear in Taewon’s mind and he tilts his head to get a better look at Han Yoojin’s face. There’s a tightness around his eyes, still, lips pressed together like he’s bracing for something. But when those eyes flick up to meet Taewon’s stare, there’s also a dull sort of… familiarity?

No, not familiarity.

Resignation.

Taewon feels sick. He all but rips his hands off Han Yoojin, backing away hastily. There’s already shadows on his skin where Taewon’s fingers had pressed against it. There’ll be bruises there by tonight. Earlier, even, because—how long had he had Looting active?

He can’t remember. He can’t remember the last time he lost control like that. His stomach twists. He feels sick.

Han Yoojin still hasn’t moved. Taewon tries to remember how tightly he was gripping his neck.

And then Han Yoojin slowly, slowly draws his arm to his side again, pushes off the counter with his other hand, and straightens back up. A pause. Then he turns, just a little, so he can look at Taewon.

They stare at each other in silence like that for a moment.

Then, in a thin voice: “Interesting skill you have there.”

Taewon’s breath catches. Han Yoojin doesn’t seem to notice as he tilts his head slightly and opens his mouth again.

“Why’d you stop?”

…

Taewon—

Taewon leaves, after that.

He doesn’t remember what he says. What he does. Han Yoojin has a knack for disabling his rational mind, it seems.

What he does know is this: that Han Yoojin’s voice, when he asked that question, was genuinely curious. Perhaps even a little pleading.

What he does know, looking back, is that Han Yoojin didn’t try to pull away. He shifted in Taewon’s hold, yes, and in his panic Taewon overreacted. But he never tried to break free.

(What Taewon doesn’t know if he wants to know is this:

How does a man like Han Yoojin end up feeling resignation?)

#cached au #my sranks #answered #licilou22 #star.txt #guy who has problems disorder meets guy who has problems disorder. what happens next will shock you #spoiler: they are going to have so many fucking problems. Together 🤝 #i... hope this answers your question...? #re: protection/threat dilemma: stw's super on edge around him and it makes him lash out in panic sometimes #because hes used to the worst threats being shj or hyh level. and hyj is double that Minimum #but because hyj also presents as Just An A-Rank and genuinely seems like a decent guy + Actually Has A Moral Code #stw's Really Fucked Up about how he reacts to him. so he's just kind of ?!??!?!?! about him #eventually the fear will ebb as he gets used to it. and then he'll be more okay around him. but for now [sucks air through teeth] Nnnhh. No #meanwhile hyj is. not having a good time either. a reprieve from the constant burden/reminder of his brother's death? check #being thrown around and threatened and generally made to feel unsafe in what should be safe company and a safe place? check #just your- whats the phrase kdj used. just some ordinary trauma #hyj is a biiit more hesitant abt befriending him here but stw's formal/polite worksona is so strong that eventually he lets down his guard #which in turn makes stw relax more around him cuz hyj starts being Friendly instead of just Polite #so yes i guess they'll be friends. eventually. ...Very eventually

[bittcnneck]

NEW MUSE! WARNING‼️‼️:sexual assult, pedophilia, Eating disorder, animal abuse, child abuse, cannibalism, human organs and stalking is mentioned in this characters introduction story. Be warned.

also, spoilers for Laceys flash games. I Went into detail because they all play a part in her personality and backstory.

ᵠHow do I meet the strangest men?

They always seem to find me...

Remember that time way back when I...

Kissed a guy who 🅐︎🅣︎🅔︎ his women friends...

Now only dogs will follow me..

..ƃuᴉʍolloɟ ǝɥ sᴉ...?ᵠ

name: Lacey Ghosttundra

age: 19

ethnicity: Brazillian

fandom: laceys flash games

Sexuality: hypersexual bisexual

occupation: Chef in her own restaurant

Personality: Lacey is a kind and sympathetic girl. She is very timid when meeting new people, and introverted at the start, but she can get quite extroverted as time goes on. Because of everything that happens to her, she has a very, very hard time trusting people. Especially men. She is unfortunately sort of.. sexist. She does not think women are better than men, she likes to believe in equality, but at the end of the day, men have always hurt her. She has been assaulted and lied to too many times to not have a negative view on them. If your muse is a girl, she is a lot more likely to trust them, as she feels safer. She loves physical touch, but can only let people she trusts show her affection in that way. Her love language is usually acts of service, as she loves making people proud. She is quite the people pleaser, she loves compliments, words of affirmation is the love language she likes to receive the most. She has a bad relationship with failure. She hates failing. She hates being a disappointment, as she often sees herself that way. She always tries to do her best. She often acts "silly" as a way to disguise everything that happened to her. She would hate to trauma dump or make her problem others problem. It is hard to get her to open up about her past. But she sees nightmares almost every night. She is very anxious and pessimistic, almost always assuming the worst, because the worst always happens to her. She over thinks quite often. But she is a very nice girl overall. She loves to help people and share her things. Despite being a chef and loving to cook, she has an eating disorder, which is why she is super skinny and fragile. She is very weak, and she often eats a meal once a day and spends rest of the day either snacking on something small or just starving.

story: Lacey has never had a good day in her life. Ever. And as the creator said, she never will. She has been physically abused her whole life by her family, and sexually abused by her uncle in a young age. There is not exactly a story about her. Or well, her backround. So I'm writing from what I have observed. In the game Laceys wardrobe, she has a stalker who watches her in picnic, watches her get dressed up after a creepy phone call, and also sends her a heart box full of human organs. Lacey begs the player to not make her go outside. Player has no choice but to do so. Lacey gets sexually assulted, chopped, then eaten by the stalker. In laceys diner, after you fail to make the food on time two times, in the third time.. things get scary. There are ingredients such as used condoms, cigarette butts, dead cockroaches, pornograhy, and also... her dead uncle. She force feeds them to the costumers. the diner closes due to health code violations. Next thing we see, lacey is lying dead on the street. And yes, she did it herself.

in laceys pet shop, things are a lot more complicated. She does WHATEVER. Her costumer wants, going as far as to cutting off a bunnys ears and tail because she was requested to do so. Some weird things happen, i'll skip a little. Next thing we see is a few pigs eating flowers. the pigs represent her family. the flowers? the fact that she got deflowered when she was so little. She sits in a cage. She talks about getting a cat. then images of a puppy pops up with the sentance "you can hurt me all you'd want but weren't allowed to take it from me", indicating her uncle killed her dog.

Lacey is immortal. At least, my version of her. It is sort of like Kenny from south park. There are 3 animations of Lacey, and all of them ends up in her death. But these deaths never get mentioned in other episodes. So my interpretation is: she is cursed by God. That is why everything terrible always happens to her. She can not die, and is forced to live through this terrible life. When she dies, she wakes up the next morning in her bed, as if it was all a dream. But even though she is immortal, she can still very well feel pain, and she often still feels what she felt when she died after waking up. Lasts a few minutes.

#lacey games #lacey's flash games #new muse pls welcome her #💙ᵠdon't you dare touch my body like you own it.ᵠ💙 {lacey}

[milimeters-morales]

me rambling under the cut

one of the least bad/most annoying side effects of atsv is how much it fucks over my thinking process when i’m trying to write a more realistic way of miles meeting up with people and friends from other worlds while being a student + spider-man + having a family that likes to spend time together, esp since i like to throw some comic characters into the mix. like it seems easy right? open a portal and go say hi. except you have to still plan ahead, because i have the times set different (for example peter is 30 minutes ahead and pavitr is an entire 12 hours), everyone has lives outside of being a vigilante (though gwen and margo give me the most freedom with this), and sometimes people just don’t wanna hang! don’t get me started on the portal itself, which you need to find a hidden spot to open and then take a few seconds to go through, to another side that you aren’t sure of the exact location. did you see the way the portal to pavitr’s world had Miles? and the way the go-home-machine sent gwen flying? of course, those are two diff types of portals, & there’s a workaround to everything, but it’s still a lot to consider and it just results in me taking forever to actually get shit down on paper. oh my god and the subtle tells of shit being resolved after btsv (bc i am not dealing with that) making the characters seem too ooc when they technically aren’t. bc it could happen. i’m always losing the idgaf war i love details i love hypotheticals and i love hidden meanings

another thing that isn’t canon and is just me making it harder for myself is me adding in anxiety and autism and a weird learned social behavior into the mix for miles. sure, guys and girls hang out. sure, they can be just friends. but he’s a guy who LIKED gwen and his parents don’t have the best first impression but are generally okay with her, and he’s at the age where all his girl friends will be teased as possible girlfriends by damn near everyone he knows. so it’s reasonable for him to not be around her while also around other people who don’t know the two of them like that, because dealing with that shit is exhausting AND embarrassing, stuff we both know Miles doesn’t like even if he can move on pretty quickly. so i expect him to sorta be like “nahhh… my cousins are here and… look let’s just hang out next time pleaseeee” and here’s where the anxiety and autism come in. miles (atsv) is not the type to care about how people view him based on his friends, and autism will result in him missing a lot of social cues but it’s kinda obvious to me that he doesnt miss the more romantic ones when it comes to gwen and how people view them together. this doesn’t help though because he doesn’t know what the do about it! he KNOWS the right thing: don’t let others get to you and work your shit out with gwen the way you know is right. but the anxiety makes him overthink about how gwen views all this (which i don’t actually go into detail that much about bc this is miles’s POV) because she means so much to him. and of course the whole “do i actually like her or is this just really deep connection or” from autism sometimes making it hard to define your feelings and a relationship, and anxiety making it a scary minefield to traverse if you wanna bring it up with said person. and don’t forget the awareness that the anxiety is making everything seem way worse than what it is, which Miles has and is so fed up by.

It all comes off as Miles eventually getting annoyed and tired of Gwen, which you know she did not take well. anyways…. throw all of this in with being a highschool student with a busy schedule and you’ve got miles’s main source of problems . too many friends and too many mental disorders and not enough time . i’m rereading this post and realizing none of it makes sense and kind of meandered .

#not tagging

[lady-celeste25]

A troubled group- Kinda Elumax?

Tw: Delusion Disorder, mentions of coma, mentions of hospital, PTSD

Lucas stares across the hospital bed at the girl he was once mean to but was now the person he’s seen the most often. Eleven- or should he say Jane Hopper-Byers sits across the way. One of his best friends and her adopted brother, Will Byers sits next to her, his hand on her shoulder to keep her grounded. 

She’d been in here almost everyday. Bringing things in and just staring at Max’s dishelved, sad appearance. Eleven has brought in an empty coke bottle, and some sort of magazine with Ralph Macchio in it, and a green scrunchie. Lucas hadn’t realized how much El cared about Max. Sure they had that one summer where they did nothing but hang out with each other, but earlier than that El didn’t like Max, right? 

But when Lucas was going through some of her things in her home to find something to remind him of her, just in case. He was going through things under her bed. An old teddy bear, a tiny skateboard, some red sunglasses. Then a Reebok box. Taking off the lid, he found not shoes but tons and tons of letters and photographs. All written in El’s messy but precise handwriting. She told Max all about her troubles with bullies, and how much she loved being Will and Jonathan’s little sister, and how much she missed Max and wished she were in California with her. The pictures were of El with her once long hair in the California sun, with Will or just by herself. There were also some from even before that. Max and El smiling together at the mall in their over-exaggerated garb. 

He put all the letters back in the box but kept one picture of both of them shaking their hair and giggling sloppily. That one he took with along with her old red sweatshirt. 

El came to the hospital the next day with Max’s old yellow sweatshirt on. 

Right now, all El was doing was staring at Max with a sullen, sickly look on her face. She was getting very pale and thin. Will looked fine but very concerned, keeping a hand on El’s shoulder and trying to get her to talk to the two boys. 

“-so after about that time, in the Hellfire Club, we were wondering if you want to become the DM?” Lucas asked Will who lit up the small, dank hospital room. 

“Yeah, absolutely!” Will nodded enthusiastically, shaking El a bit. “I was working on a couple campaigns in California before this. El helped me out a lot.” 

“Speaking of that, El why don’t you come to the next Hellfire Club meeting?” Lucas turned his attention to the pale girl. “You’ll be fine as long as you keep your hood up. Actually, the other kids will problem think you’re really metal. You can get out of the house a little?” 

“That’s a great idea!” Will tried to get her attention. “They could use a mage for the campaign. El! Jane! Hey!” he continued to shake her. “Eleven! Hello!” 

“Jane!” Lucas waved a hand in front of her. “EL!” 

El’s glassy eyes snapped to Lucas and her mouth started moving fast. “After this, I think we should all go to Starcourt. Max wants this hat called a ber-berate? Then Max and I are going skating. At Rink-O-Mania. You guys can come to-” 

Will grasped El’s shoulders. “El. We’re not in California anymore. We’re in Hawkins. And Starcourt burned down a long time ago.” 

“El, are you feeling okay?” Lucas’s eyes gleamed in worry. 

“I want to go to Starcourt…” El mumbled and stood up, walking away from the bed, turning only for a moment. “Come on, Max! Let’s go get some Scoops!” 

“El… El!” Will stumbled out of his chair, running to grab El. “El! Starcourt burned down! We’re not in California! We can’t go to Rink-O-Mania ever again because of Angela. Max can’t go anywhere!” 

El pulled away from Will and stomped out of the hospital room. 

“Shit!” Will cursed. 

“What’s going on?” Lucas was on his feet. 

“It’s something called uh… Delusion Disorder?” Will looked back only for a moment. “El’s been suffering from it for a while due to… uh… PTSD from the past couple weeks. Listen I gotta go before something happens to her. Bye.” 

“Bye…” Lucas mumbled. 

Lucas hung his head low and massaged his forehead. What happened to his normal, nerdy friend group? Poor El. Poor Will… Poor Max… poor him. They’ll never have a normal day in their life, will they? The little group will forever be cursed in the horrible town of Hawkins. 

If Max every woke up, please God let her wake up, he’s taking her and El and Will and Dustin and Erica and Mike and all of Hawkins away. Far away. Forever.

#tw delusion disorder #tw ptsd #tw hospital #stranger things #stranger things 4 #elumax #elmax #lumax #eleven #jane hopper #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #will byers #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #I was thinking about how fucked up El is now #and Lucas #also Will is the best brother ever

[freddie-weaselbee]

Reflection//F.W.

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Implied eating disorder, implied body dysmorphia, body insecurities, insecurities in general, mentions of food/drink, language, angst, fluff, sad and insecure Freddie :(

Summary: Fred can’t even look at his reflection without feeling bad about himself and thinking about how you deserve so much more than anything he has to offer. 

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. No matter who you are or what you look like, you are absolutely beautiful. If you or if you know anyone who suffers from body dysmorphia (specifically men because it’s not talked about enough), please reach out to someone and learn more. My messages are always open!

Arthur Weasley. Molly Weasley. Bill Weasley. Charlie Weasley. Percy Weasley. Fred and George Weasley. Ron Weasley. Ginny Weasley. The Weasley family. While all connected by their Gryffindor house and flaming red hair, each member of the family was unique in their own sense. 

Arthur and Molly were the parents. Arthur’s fascination with Muggles as a Pureblood and Molly’s blunt but loving motherly nature were what set them apart. 

Bill was the oldest, the golden child. He was loved at Hogwarts and became a successful curse breaker. No one ever had problems with the wonder that was Bill Weasley. 

Charlie forged his own path. The great Hogwarts Quidditch star who likely could have gone professional, had he not found his passion in dragons and made a new life for himself in Romania.  

Percy. Perfect prefect Percy, the one who would grow up to be the Minister of Magic, at least that's what everyone thought. He had every aspect of his life perfectly planned out down to the last detail, and oh how Molly loved her rule-abiding son, never a troublemaker. 

Ron had a more difficult time making a name for himself. The youngest brother in the family and yet not quite the baby. However, his friendship with Harry Potter and their knack for getting themselves into trouble every year made Ronald Weasley a known name around Hogwarts. 

Ginny was the only girl, which made her unique already.  Not only that, but she was fantastic at Quidditch, had the heart of a true Gryffindor Lion, and was overall a kind, vivacious, adventurous soul. 

Each Weasley had one thing that set them apart. Everyone, that is, except the duo that could never be separated. 

Fred and George Weasley. Not Fred Weasley and George Weasley. Fred and George. As if they were one person, joined at the hip with the same ideas, the same personalities, and the same feelings. No matter how hard they tried when they were younger, everyone always came back to calling them Fred and George. Even their own mother often got them mixed up, and showed no care in doing so. As long as it was one of the twins she was alright

. 

Once their years at Hogwarts started, the two boys decided to stop fighting the inevitable, and thus began their reign as “Fred and George Weasley, Prank Master Extraordinaires.” They were always together. They were both Quidditch beaters. They pulled some of the finest pranks Hogwarts had ever seen together. They sat next to each other in all of their classes and would sometimes switch seats or call each other the wrong name to see if anyone else would notice. They never did. 

“Freddie, you coming?” you asked your boyfriend, jumping up onto his back. It was Hogsmeade weekend, which meant the tradition of you and your friends raiding Honeydukes, Zonkos, and finishing out at The Three Broomsticks was minutes away from happening once again. Fred laughed and spun around, quickly getting dizzy and pulling you both down into the Gryffindor couch. 

You rolled on top of him and pulled his chin in for a quick kiss, limbs awkwardly tangled in each other as you shared a sweet moment with the ginger you’d been dating for the last 3 months. 

“Ugh my eyes!” George stood behind the couch, hands covering his face in order to shield his view from the innocent scene in front of him. 

“Oh shut up George,” you said. “You’re just jealous.”

Fred smirked at his slightly younger brother and pulled you down into a deeper kiss. “Yeah, jealous,” he mumbled against your lips, which resulted in George physically separating your faces with his hands. 

“You two disgust me,” he scoffed. “Are you guys ready?”

Fred struggled against his brother’s hand for a second trying to recapture your lips once again, but he eventually gave up once you caved and pulled away. 

“I’m all set, has everyone else already left?” The rest of your small friend group consisted of Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet, who you had been close with since your first year. The three boys would run off and pull horrendous pranks while you, Angelina, and Alicia would roll your eyes, secretly coming up with new ideas for jokes to pull on Filch. 

George jumped over the couch and hoisted you up by your arms, his strength making you fly through the air for a few seconds before you landed shakily on the warm rugs decorating the floor. 

“Yep,” replied your friend. “They said they’d meet us in the Courtyard and we can go from there. If I remember correctly it’s your turn to buy butterbeers.” 

You groaned and threw your hands to your pocket, making sure you had the money. “I thought you would’ve forgotten about that.”

George wrapped his arm around your shoulder and gave you a brotherly squeeze. “Never, love. Let’s get going.”

Giggling, you walked in step with your best friend and wrapped an arm around his waist. You turned your head and put out your other arm, gesturing for Fred to come join you. 

“C’mon, Fred, what’re you waiting for?”

Fred wasn’t waiting for anything. In fact, the longer he saw you interact with George, the less he wanted to spend the day watching it continue to happen. He didn’t look at you and instead just fiddled with his sweater, the one you had stolen from him so many times until he finally took it back to appreciate how it now smelled like you. 

“I’m not feeling too well today, you guys can just go.”

You pouted and fully turned to face your boyfriend. “You were fine just a second ago, do you want me to stay with you?”

He could tell you were about to walk back over and crawl into his lap, but he really needed to be alone. “I’m ok love, just not feeling it today. Bring me back something from Honeydukes though, will ya?”

You gave him a small smile and nodded, wondering if there was anything else you could do to help. 

“Don’t worry Y/N,” said George, “I can take care of you. We’ll have a blast!”

“I can take care of myself, Georgie,” you said. Fred winced at the nickname. “But I thank you kindly for the offer.” You bowed sarcastically and began to howl with laughter as George tickled your sides and threw you over his shoulder. “See you later Fred, don’t have too much fun without me!”

He looked up at the last second, only catching a glimpse of your face contorted with giggles as his twin carried you through the halls of the castle. 

Fred sighed and got up from the couch, sulking as he made his way to his now empty dorm room. He lied down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, imagination and worries running wild. What were you and George doing right now? Was he still holding onto you, laughing as he clutched your perfect body in his arms? Fred’s jaw clenched, thinking about his brother holding you, kissing you like he did. Because what was the difference between him and his brother? Why would you care if it was George that was touching you instead of Fred. They were the same. To everyone in the world, they were just the mirror images of each other. Just a stupid, unoriginal reflection. 

He felt a few hot tears well up, so he turned onto his side and curled up, letting sleep take over and wash his troubles away. 

------------------------------

“Alright George, put me down, you’ve had your fun.” The Weasley boy pretended to drop you, only making you clutch his shoulder harder. 

“Oh I see,” George said smirking, “now you don’t want me to put you down, huh?”

“Sod off, loser.” You wiggled out of his loosening grasp and elbowed his side. George had decided to carry you not only out of Hogwarts, but also almost the entire way to Hogsmeade itself. An act quite impressive, but the beater was known for his renowned upper body strength. 

Angelina came up and grabbed your arm, slowing you down so you would fall away from the rest of the group. “Not trying to steal my love, are you Y/N?” she asked, trying to glare at you but breaking quickly and smiling in the end. 

“I don’t know Angie,” you teased, “if you don’t make a move soon maybe I’ll have to take both twins. Paris does sound very nice this time of year.”

She rolled her eyes and gave you a soft shove. “The annoying part is that you could probably pull both of them too. I see the way George looks at you.”

Your best friend, usually so confident and collected, was now very shy and insecure about her love for the younger of the Weasley twins. You and George had no feelings for each other. Both of you knew that and she of course knew that. But sometimes dumb thoughts plagued people’s minds. 

“Angie, wanna know a secret?” you asked. 

She looked up and nodded slowly. 

“The reason George and I’ve been hanging out recently is because he keeps asking me about you. ‘What’s Angie’s favorite food?’ ‘What does she like to do when she’s not kicking ass on the Quidditch pitch?’ blah blah blah.” 

Angelina laughed at your horrible impersonation of George’s voice. “You know he’s like a brother to me. I mean, if things between me and Fred keep going how they are then maybe one day he’ll be my actual brother.”

She nodded gratefully and sighed a breath of relief. “I know, I know. It’s just a little weird for me that you two are so close. I feel like I’m third wheeling whenever you guys are there, and you aren’t even the ones dating!”

“That’s just how George is. He’s so sweet, so he’s always there to cheer me up. But you have to trust me, there is not and will not ever be something between me and him. No offence to George, but that’s gross.”

“You’re dating his twin brother! How is that gross?”

“You of all people know that they’re not the same. I prefer my men cocky, arrogant, and pretty,” you quipped, calling Fred out. 

“And I prefer mine sweet, compassionate, and handsome, but it looks like George has got a long way to go before he can earn that title.”

Angelina was referring to the scene in front of you, where the man in question was currently shoving Lee’s face into the snow-covered ground. 

“Maybe we both need better taste in men,” you said, running with Angelina to tackle George and save your dear friend. 

------------------------------

It was 2 weeks later, and Fred was once again missing out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Gryffindor had just played Slytherin in the game of the year, a close match that had the entire school screaming and on the edge of their seats. 

“And there Malfoy and Potter go, racing into the sky with their eyes on the snitch,” Lee Jordan shouted into the microphone. “The current score is Gryffindor with 130 points and Slytherin with 110. It all comes down to who can catch this flying bugger.”

A loud crack resounded across the pitch as George sent a bludger straight toward Malfoy, hitting his broom and almost knocking him off. 

“Amazing hit by Number 6, beater George Weasley. This could be the end of the game folks, this could be it. Oh! Malfoy’s back on his broom and racing to catch up to Potter. Weasley gave the young Gryffindor seeker a great head start, and it looks like he might have it!”

“Fred!” Angelina cried. Fred looked to where she was gesturing and saw the bludger coming straight toward him. This was his shot. He had a clear path to hit Malfoy, securing the win for Gryffindor. 

You were in the crowd, screaming at the top of your lungs. He didn’t want to disappoint you, or the team, or his house. He didn’t want to disappoint people anymore. 

“Number 5 Fred Weasley winds up to hit a bludger, he’s got a clean shot toward Malfoy! If he can get this hit it’s game over and victory for Gryffindor!”

With all of his strength he sent the bludger flying, but apparently his aim hadn’t improved with the extra practice he had been doing. 

Lee continued to comment on the disaster that was about to happen. “One strong hit to the bludger, but it looks like it’s going in the wrong direction. Oh no! Instead of hitting Malfoy the bludger just hit Potter, sending him and his broom spiraling out of control! Malfoy has taken this opportunity to catch up to the snitch and...and...he’s got it. Malfoy catches the snitch, making the final score 260 for Slytherin to 130 for Gryffindor. A well played match by everyone.”

Except it wasn’t a well played match for Fred. He had let everyone down, again. He was used to it from his parents and older siblings, even most of his teachers. But he had never let down his house before. He had never let down his team. 

Fred locked himself away in his room, refusing to talk to anyone. He pulled off his Quidditch robes and shirt and stared at his reflection in the wall length mirror hanging in his dorm room. 

He stared at his body, something many girls would comment on and swoon over. He was Fred Weasley, star Quidditch player and resident hottie at Hogwarts. Except he wasn’t anymore. 

The definition of his abs weren’t strong enough. He was gaining too much fat, eating too much food. He wasn’t working out enough, that was it. If he would've worked out more then he would’ve made the shot during the game. 

Fred wasn’t as ripped as George, he knew that for a fact. Living in the same room for their entire lives, Fred knew how strong his brother was, how defined his biceps were and how he could lift you with absolutely no problem. Fred knew that George was the better beater. It was just statistics. He made the most hits, had the best aim, and won the team the most points.  

The only thing Fred was better at was making jokes, but he knew no one liked them. His friends must’ve laughed out of pity. There was no way anyone could not find him annoying, especially with how cocky and overconfident he came across. They just tolerated him because of George. You just loved him because you saw him as another George. You should be with George. 

Fred stared into the reflection of himself in the mirror, the one that looked equal parts like him and his twin brother. He groaned as he bent down to the floor, quickly starting another repetition of countless pushups until he would pass out from exhaustion.

------------------------------

Fred had stuck to his cycle. Wake up, eat (but not much), go on a run across the castle grounds, go to class, work out for 2 hours, eat dinner (but once again, not much), work out again and then pass out from working so hard. Any time he had outside of class was spent on the Quidditch pitch or locked away in his dorm, overworking his body and secretly comparing it to his brother’s. No matter what he did, he never caught up. He was still the more annoying, weaker, less attractive reflection of his twin. 

“There’s something wrong with him,” George said to you, walking to the courtyard for one of your breaks. “He’s been so off lately and I can’t figure out why.”

“You’re telling me!” You had noticed Fred’s changes in behavior and tried to talk to him about it. He had become quieter and less outgoing, usually choosing to be alone and do God knows what while you went off with your friends. In fact, the two of you hadn’t had an evening to yourselves in over a month. Not ever seeing your boyfriend was beginning to take a toll on you too. 

“I’ve tried talking to him and asking if anything’s wrong, but he always blows me off,” you complained. “He just seems so sad and miserable, and the worst part is, I have no idea why!”

George just shook his head. “Me neither. He’s my bloody twin brother and we never even talk anymore. He’s always on his broom or locked himself in our room. Doesn’t ever let me in, so I don’t know what’s going on back there.”

Thoughts began to race through your head. “Do you,” you gulped. “Do you think he’s hiding something from us? Or...or someone?”

“Oh Godric no,” George said suddenly, wrapping you up in a hug. “Fred would never cheat on you darling, he loves you too much for that. He would go on and on about how bloody beautiful you are and how you’re the perfect person for him and it took everything I had not to strangle the git sometimes cuz he would never let me sleep.”

You squeezed him back tighter. “When...when did he say these things?”

George paused for a few seconds. “A little over a month ago. I...I haven’t really heard him talk much recently…”

You broke down sobbing in your friend’s arms, lowering yourself onto a bench and turning to cry into his chest. 

“Shh, shh darling, it’s not your fault. I’m sure this is a misunderstanding. Freddie loves you so much, he would never hurt you, ever.” He grabbed your chin so you were looking up at him. “Do you understand me?”

You nodded, eyes red and puffy before going back to his chest to cry. You spoke to him through broken sobs. “I...I’m gonna talk to him tonight. I need to f-find out what’s...wrong.”

George stroked your hair soothingly and rubbed your back. “Sounds like a plan, love. You’ve got this.”

You thanked him and continued to cry until you felt all of your sadness release. George helped you up and walked you to the bathroom to get your face cleaned up for the next class. Little did you or George know that Fred, from afar, had just witnessed the entire scene. 

------------------------------

In his usual place as of late, Fred was curled up on his bed, unable to move from the intensity he had just put his body through. He tried to shift to get into a more comfortable position but it only made him groan and his stomach growl. 

His arms, which were supposed to be getting stronger, were weak from malnutrition. He wasn’t even strong enough to sit up and do his Potions homework, which only made him feel worse about himself. 

All his life it had been Fred and George. It didn’t matter that his name was first, because there was always George to follow. They were the same person, and yet he still felt inferior to his brother. No matter what he did, how hard he worked, George was always going to be better. He was the stronger twin, the kinder one, the more compassionate one who knows when a prank has gone too far. He was everything that you deserve, and everything Fred wished he could be. 

Fred was startled by a knock on the door. “Freddie,” your muffled voice called through. He stayed quiet, hoping you would leave and look for him somewhere else, or better yet give up on him altogether. He couldn’t stand to look at you at the moment. 

“Freddie I’m coming in.” Before he could do anything you had cast alohomora and were standing next to his bed. 

Fred turned his head away from you, trying not to let you see how red his face was from crying. He pulled the covers up over his face, blatantly ignoring you. 

“We need to talk.” You sat down next to him and ripped the blanket off, revealing a mostly naked Fred aside from his pair of boxers. You grabbed his shoulders to roll him over to face you, but you jumped back as he let out a pained groan. 

“Get out, Y/N. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “You haven’t wanted to talk for the past month and I’m tired of it. I know there’s something wrong, and it’s killing me to see you like this. Please, Fred, you need to tell me what’s happening.”

The boy rolled his eyes and slowly moved to face you. “Why?” he asked. “So you can run off to George and have him comfort you? Why don’t you just save us both the trouble and go be with him.”

You were shocked by his words. Fred had never been the jealous type. Whenever you would talk casually with your exes or other boys would flirt with you, Fred was understanding and calm, always saying that you were his and he knew he didn’t have to worry about anything. But now for some reason he was seething with jealousy, and over his brother no less. It didn’t make any sense. 

“What in the world are you talking about?” you asked indignantly. “You know that George is just my friend, my best friend. He’s in love with Angelina and I’m in love with you.”

Fred scoffed. “Yeah, alright then. What did you and Angelina do, draw straws and decide who gets who? It’s not like it would matter, as long as you got one of the twins.”

You sat down on the bed, fuming with anger. “Where is this coming from? You know I love you. I don’t love George, at least not more than a friend or a brother. I don’t love anyone else and I don’t want to be with anyone else, just you.”

Your hand traveled to his shoulder but he jerked up so that he was inches away from you. “Don’t lie to me. You’re just like everyone else. You got one of the twins, and then you realized that you got the worse one, so off you are to go seduce George, because he’s just my reflection but better. I know exactly how you think you worthless bitch!”

Both of you went silent. Fred had never spoken those things to you before. Never once had he raised his voice in anger, and he had never even thought about calling you a bitch or anything of the sort. 

You brought your hand back to slap him, but you hesitated when he just gave up and sighed, awaiting the hit and not even trying to do anything about it. He was weak and exhausted and had completely given up on everything. 

Lowering your hand, you moved it to caress his cheek. He leaned into the touch, letting small tears fall from his eyes and drop onto your fingers. You pulled him into your shoulder slowly, where he sniffled and cuddled up next to you. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean that. You’re perfect.”

After a few seconds you finally spoke up. “I love you so much. You cheer me up when I’ve had a bad day with your jokes.” Fred hummed into your shoulder. “You’re always helping me relax when things get too stressful, and you take me on the best adventures I could ever imagine.” He turned his head to meet your eyes. “You and George, while you might look the same, are completely different. I could never love him the way I love you, because he’s not you. He’s sweet, compassionate Georgie, and you’re fierce, loyal, loving, optimistic, beautiful Freddie.”

Fred nuzzled into your shoulder and pulled you down so you were both laying down on his bed. He mumbled something that you couldn’t make out. 

“What was that love?”

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” He spoke so shyly, pieces of his insecurities finally becoming apparent. 

You held his face in your hands and stared into his mesmerizing brown eyes. “I think you’re beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, pretty, and absolutely perfect the way you are.” You ran your hands down his toned abs, starting to understand what he had been doing those many hours each day. “No matter how much muscle you have or how big or small you are, I’ll always love you. You look perfect to me.”

To show Fred exactly how you felt you kissed him all over his body, starting at his neck and moving to his chest all the way down to his thighs and calves. “Just because you’re a guy doesn’t mean you have to be super buff and toned. All bodies are beautiful, and that goes for men too. And you are the most beautiful of them all.”

Fred squeezed you tight, mentally hitting himself for not talking to you earlier. You loved him and he knew that. You didn’t love George and you didn’t love him because he was one of the Weasley twins. You loved him because he was simply Fred. Fred Weasley. 

You shifted out of his hold and started to leave the room. “Where are you going love, please stay,” he asked, giving you his biggest puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m gonna sneak into the kitchens and get you some food. You need to eat, Freddie. I’ve seen you skip meals and it’s not healthy.” He nodded reluctantly, still self conscious about the weight he thought he gained. 

“Speaking of not being healthy, I think you should slow down with the workouts. There’s nothing wrong with getting a better body, but you’re destroying yourself in the process. Can you take a break for a few days and rest up before reevaluating your workouts?”

It took Fred a second to think over. He still wanted a body like his brother’s, but you were right. He wouldn’t get it from not eating and constantly hurting himself. “Yeah, alright.”

“I think there’s leftover ham and potatoes from dinner, does that sound good?” Fred agreed, cozying himself back up under the covers. 

“Perfect,” you said. “I’ll get food and we can eat and catch up, and maybe read that book I was telling you about? You said you wanted to read it with me.”

“Sounds perfect, love. Thank you so much.”

You nodded and walked out the door, closing it softly. Fred looked around the room he had spent so much time in recently until his eyes landed on the mirror hanging on his wall. With what was left of his strength he got up and stood in front of it. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. He had so many deep seated insecurities that he would need to work out, and it would take time. But for the first time in a while, Fred could finally look at his reflection and smile. 

#fredweasley #fred x reader #fred #fredweasleyfluff #hogwarts #georgeweasley #fred weasley x reader #fredweasleyimagine #fredweasey #fred x y/n #fredweasleyfic #weasley #tw eating things #tw body dysphoria #tw cursing

[queenbrightwhitly]

Omg! Could I make a request? Maybe Malcolm with an s/o that dissociates regularly, and maybe they dissociate when meeting Martin or something and he has to kind of bring them back to reality.

Yes of course you can! I’m not too familiar with dissociation so I did some research and hope I did this okay.

Reality

“Well, don’t you look horrible.” Y/n leaned against the hallway wall. She watched as Malcolm stopped abruptly, her voice catching him off gaurd as he stared up at her.

“What are you doing here?” Malcolm asked, he crossed his arms obviously confused. He thought she was still at the crime scene, not at Claremont.

“Gil told me to come with you, especially since you were told not to come to Dr. Whitly for this one.” Y/n stated casually, walking towards the door she gave a friendly wave and greeting to Mr. David.

“Y/n.”

“It’s so weird, I thought this place would be bigger.”

“Y/n..”

“Your mother really talks about how luxurious he’s living and I don’t know, for how much money you guys have-“

“Y/n!”

Turning around she stared back at Malcolm who obviously looked annoyed. “Yes, sweetheart?” She teased.

“You’re not going in there.” Malcolm said, his voice very serious. “I know you and Gil are worried-“

She scoffed. “Worried is an understatement, especially with how things have been going lately.” Looking to Mr. David, she nodded towards the door. Mr. David opened it and waited for them to go inside. “You coming Malcolm?”

Rolling his eyes Malcolm shook his head, following behind as they both walked in. Dr. Whity was sitting in his chair looking though some books and files.

“Martin, you have visitors.” Mr. David announced, shutting the door behind him, leaving Malcolm and Y/n with Martin.

Malcolm stood close to Y/n, standing in front of her, facing towards his father he waited for him to say something.

“Malcolm, my boy!” Martin happily greeted, not taking his eyes off his files. It didn’t seem like he notice Y/n. “I’m surprised you didn’t call first, I would have-“ Martin stopped himself, having finally turned in his chair he took notice of the extra visitor stood behind Malcolm. “Oh? Who’s this?” Martin stood up making his way over, but was stopped by his chain that was attached to his room wall. 

“Hello, Dr. Whitly. Detective, L/n, I’m apart of Lieutenant Arroyo team.” Y/n leaned over Malcolms shoulder, smiling sweetly. 

“Well, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Malcolm was bringing members of the team, I would’ve cleaned up a bit.” Martin looked a bit embarrassed as he looked around his room. 

“I’ve seen worse.” Y/n shrugged casually. 

Malcolm kept himself in front of Y/n, his protective nature taking over. He wanted to make sure Martin had no way of getting to her, even being chained up.

“I need your help on a case.” Malcolm pulled his attention away from her and back on his.

“Oh I expected nothing less.” Martin smiled. “Please continue, what seems to be troubling you?”

Y/n watched from behind Malcolm as he discussed the current dead end in the case. She looked around Martins room, noticing a few medical books and drawings along the left side of the wall.

She didn’t know when it started happening but she felt herself start to relax and become lighter on her feet. The sounds of Malcolm and Martins conversation became mute, only watching their mouths move, but no noise.

Reaching out to grip Malcolms sleeve, she pulled lightly, trying not to catch the attention of Martin. Although she thought she touched him, she didn’t feel anything, her body becoming even lighter then before. The area around her was almost like a dream, a show playing in front of her.

Then as quickly as it came, she suddenly got spooked by Malcolm facing her, his hands were rubbing her shoulders up and down, a white blanket was wrapped around her. Y/n notice his mouth moving and tried to focus on what he could be saying, his voice was becoming clear as she listen more intently.

“Y/n? Can you hear me?” She finally heard it now. “Breathe slowly, just focus on me.”

Nodding, she focused on Malcolms eyes. His blue eyes she love so much, so calming to look into.

“Well, if I wouldn’t know better I say that was an intense case of zoning out.” Martin spoke up from behind Malcolm.

“Shut up, please.” Malcolm snapped, turning his head back for a quick moment. “Are you okay?” He asked gently.

“I’m okay, I just had a moment.” Looking down at the white blanket wrapped around her, she held the material between her fingers. “How long this time?”

Malcolm sighed. “Ten minutes, maybe less.”

“If I may input, I would say you suffer from a sort of dissociation disorder?” Martin walked closer to the line on the floor. “Ya know, Y/n. I have had patients in the past who have struggled with this before, perhaps I could treat you as well, I knew a few techniques and-“

“Absolutely not.” Malcolm interrupted. “She’s not, or ever will be one of your patients. Stick with the over the phone teachings.”

“So defensive my boy.” Martin looked back to Y/n. “If you ever need some medical advice, you know how to reach me.” Martin winked.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “We should go. You’ve been helpful. No reason for us to stay here any longer.” Malcolm took her by the hand, waiting for the door to open.

“It was nice to meet you Dr. Whitly!” Y/n turned back. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Martin smiled. “Oh not a problem at all my dear. You’ve been quite a treat, please convince my son to bring you around more often.”

Malcolm just shook his head. Once the door had opened, Martin had already went back to his chair. “See you soon my boy! Maybe on your next visit we can discuss how this little delight managed to sneak her way into your heart?”

Y/n looked confused, following Malcolm as he dragged her along. “Did you tell him?”

“No, I didn’t say anything. He must have just guessed.”

“I doubt that, maybe because your protective nature took over.” Y/n shrugged.

When they finally went outside, Malcolm stopped, he put his hands back on her shoulders. “How bad was it this time? Do you remember anything?”

“No, I’m not sure what triggered it ether, I’m still figuring this out as I go.” Y/n looked down at the white blanket still around her. “Surprised they let us take this.”

Malcolm wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest he rested his head on top hers. “Sorry, I just panicked with you being in there with him. If it was bad-“

“Hey, it’s okay.” Looking up she moved some hair from Malcolms face. “You were a big help, you always are.”

Malcolm smiled, leaning down he kissed the top of her forehead. “We should go, make sure Gil doesn’t send an APV for us.”

“Or the swat team.” Y/n teased. Reaching down to take Malcolms hand they both walked away from Claremont.

#malcolm bright #malcolm whitly #prodigal son #prodigal son fandom #malcolm bright x reader #tom payne #tom payne x reader #malcolm whitly x reader

[impala1967dwinchester]

Hello I just wanted to say ur amazing writer and I was wondering if I can request Winchester brother x sister reader where the reader is the youngest Winchester maybe around 16- 17 you can choose the fits but I was hoping u can do like where the reader is depressed and has ED (eating disorder ) and doesn’t tell the brothers and one day it gets worse and passed out the brothers are worried trying to help her out but it hard for her I hope this ok if not I can do different request it just I found comfort in angst topics with struggles I go through you know sorry if this doesn’t makes sense

It started years ago. To be exact it started when your father lost it, going mental on your oldest brother Dean. The three of you were thick as thieves and it physically hurt to see the complete and utter destruction your father left behind for Dean to clean up.

Living your life on the road was okay, you had two great older brothers that kept you up. Kept you in good spirits but it's hard when your whole world around you is crashing. You know it, your family knows but no one else.

How Dean and Sam ever dealt with the massive weight on their shoulders. It blew your mind. You. You weren't worth anything, especially not your mother burning on the ceiling. Your father resented you. You didn't need him to say it, because you could tell. Dean was his soldier, Sam was the disappointment, but the smartest out of the three of you. But you, you were the reason all four of you were in this mess. The reason why John was searching for that revenge every day.

Covering it up with the idea of saving people, but you were smart, so very smart. Sam had complimented you many times on your quickness, and sharpness when it came to the lore, but regarding your father, it was never the approval you were looking for.

Lots of things happened, to get you to the age of seventeen and drowning in the pit of your stomach all because you all no desire to be here anymore. You weren't helping your older brothers you were just in the way.

In the way of progress, a major setback to them. For them to prove to John that they would be like him, do like him. They'd have to leave you behind. It was for the best.

It started off as a way to conserve the little food the four of you had. At the ripe age of seven you learned quickly that offering your food to Sam was a better idea, or skipping off to lay in a shitty motel bed was better than eating. Yes your stomach would growl and the acid would burn, but anything to keep the weight of your brother off your shoulders.

As you grew up you learned that if you stayed at school as long as you could it was the best. Dean had just learned how to drive driving was his passion, reading was Sam. And yours... yours was to stay away, out of the way.

By the age of fifteen, you had your patterned packed down and tight. You leave with Sam since he drove you to school, and since he was a senior. You felt a wave of dizziness almost every morning. The night's dinner is still wrapped in its paper bag. Claiming to take it for lunch. Dean never argued with you. Kiss your forehead and hitting the pillow quicker than he hit on the girls that passed by the motel's door.

Your father was already starting to become absent. The shadow of what a perfect family no one ever talked about. You thrived in the school building though. Sam kissed your forehead his height greatly giving him the advantage before saying his goodbyes to you and running to meet with his senior friends.

You walked alone in the hallways. The bullying started almost immediately the second you stepped into the building. Near of my brothers were aware of the shit I went through on a daily basis. Years later they still weren't.

You had settled on never telling them about my dislike for eating, you hoped and prayed most night that they'd never find out. It was better without their acknowledgment of your weakness. Who knows they might be the same way everyone was at school.

The last year had been hard for you and your brothers, your father making less, and less of an effort with all three of you. Your relationship was already straining to stay alive, the burning and hurt in the bit of your stomach was something that was constant now, and from what you could tell it wasn't going to get any better.

Your brothers are now in their early 20's still taking care of their baby sister. Nights you guys sat down for dinner were odd, without John there. The quiet days where a now older Sam would drive you to school, along by yourself all day long. The teasing being relentless.

The whole idea, you were constantly dizzy, constantly on the verge of falling asleep no matter if you were in class, or at the crappy motel room with your brothers.

Tonight though, tonight your world fell apart as you walked in through the door, your final year of schooling was just starting your summer of staying inside and reading was over. The hot day of September had gotten to you more than you were willing to say. As you walked in through the motel door, the cool air hitting you in your face, and the hot air of the evening summer day kicking you in your ass.

It was too much, down you and your light bookbag went. Dean had been on one of the motels' beds when he heard you fall, Sam behind hadn't been able to catch you even with his long arms.

You don' remember much. You do remember hearing the sounds of your brothers frantically rushing around the room, one dropping his gun, and the other rushing over to your side.

"Dean what the hell just happened?" Sam asked in a frantically worried voice. "I don't know all I heard was the engine of Baby, and then her fall to the floor," Dean said rushing to your thin frame. Neither had noticed until now when they finally had time to pay attention to their baby sister that she was rather thinner than a normal seventeen-year-old.

Paler then normal, "Sam do you notice it?" Dean asked as Sam pulled the lightweight bookbag from your small shoulders. A small hum came from Sams's lips, maybe it was too much to say it. The words making truth when they leave his lips.

Sam picked you up feeling just how boney you were. "How did we let her get this bad Dean?" He questioned, Dean kept his head down grabbing her bag and following behind Sam to the bed's side.

When you woke up your two brothers were talking quietly in the tiny kitchen. Sam saw you try to get up their conversation stopped at a halt, and they both came over to help you.

Quiet overcame the room. Dean was the first to speak. "How are you feeling, Y/n?" He asked, you shrugged your shoulders, the ache in your body was strong, but not enough to make that your brother's problems.

"Y/n please be honest with us... Is this the first time something like this has happened?" Your brother Sam asked. Swallowing hard, before talking you answered Dean's question. "I feel fine guys really nothing to worry about." Answering Sams was going to be harder, you don't really remember the last time something like this happened, maybe last week in school, maybe a few years ago. "I don't remember Sam." That was all you said. Sad expression littered their coarse and worn faces.

"Y/n, how long have been like this?" Dean asked, furrowed brows as he asked the question. "Like what?" You replied. "Like how you don't eat at dinner and think we don't notice, how long Y/n? Just answer please." Dean said.

You tried opening your mouth, but the pressure of being truthful with your brothers was overbearing. Trying again and still, nothing slipped out. Sam ur interrupted your train of thought. "Since dad started on with his hunt for yellow eyes?" Simple questions always have a simple answer.

"If you want an honest answer I'd say seven or eight." You said, pushing yourself up from laying in the bed to sitting up against the headboard. The gasps for air were real between your two brothers. One hand came to rest on top of yours while the other paced around the motel room.

Your guess as to which was mad, and empathic wasn't hard for you. Dean pacing around the room meant he was angry, and Sam's empathic hand on top of yours meant he to wanted help. "Why didn't you tell us?" Dean questioned me, Sam turned to look at his older brother. "That won't help, we were talking remember. We need to help her, bot questions her about her actions or even her reason why." Sam said, Dean, calm down as he continued to pace.

Sam returned his attention to you. Hand still laying on top of yours, "Y/n why don't we, all the three of us help you yeah?" He said you laughed a little and Dean looked up from his pacing feet. "I don't think you guys could ever help me. I've been and felt this way for ten years now. This is just how I am now. Broken and worthless to this Winchester family." You said the strain of holding back was harder than you thought. Dean had paused his pacing staring at you and Sams's hand had engulfed yours.

Dean came over, putting his finger under your chin, grabbing your attention. "You listen here, to Sam and I. We care more about you than you'll ever know. We don't care what any person thinks, we don't care about Dad as much as we care about our little sister. Now believe me when we say that all we want to do is help you, helping you is what Sam and I are here for. Y/n you aren't alone, you aren't, worthless, and you most definitely aren't broken. We can help you all you have to do is let us in." Dean said sitting down next to you when he was down.

"We love you and don't wanna see so much potential be wasted especially when we knew we could have helped you," Sam added. You were having a hard time believing them, but nothing would stop you from trying especially when you had your brothers by your side.

#anon tag #send me anons #sweet anons #thanks anon #anon headcanons #anons welcome #lovely anon #anon #anon request #supernaturalagnst #supernatualfluff #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural #supernatural x reader

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)

Aaaand, part 4, the finale! 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 29:  You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.

Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.

Word count: 5.1k

Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place. 

Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.

“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement. 

“You’ve been humming for half an hour!” 

He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.

“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the-”

“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”

Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time. 

“Okay, but what does that ha-”

“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!” 

That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds. 

“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table. 

“I- I don’t-”

Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal. 

“You’re my soulmate!”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed. 

“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”

Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.

-----

Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he’d met his soulmate. 

He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years. 

His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket. 

It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-

No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.   

Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!

His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer. 

“Hey, kiddo?”

Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting. 

“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”

Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched. 

“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”

Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath. 

“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”

He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.

“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”

Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.

“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

-----

Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug. 

The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute. 

“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing. 

“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went. 

Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…

“Virgil, hold these for me.”

When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.

“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”

He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.

The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet. 

“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you nonverbal?”

“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”

“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”

“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.

“It’s a guy.”

“How did that go?”

“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”

Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table. 

“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis. 

“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”

“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”

Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”

His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”

“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.

“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”

“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.

“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”

“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”

Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”

“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.

“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”

-----

V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.

R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!

V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. 

R: I still feel bad DX

“He feels bad, what do I do?!”

“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”

“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”

V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?

R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!

V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.

“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”

“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”

“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”

R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry. 

“...That’s not what I expected.”

“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”

“Seconded.”

V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now. 

R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was. 

R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?

“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”

“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”

“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”

“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”

V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.

R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that

V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now. 

R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma. 

V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that. 

R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.

V: No, I’m okay. 

R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all. 

“I… oh. He’s… wow.”

“I agree with your sentiment.”

“I like this boy already.”

“DAD!”

R: Your dad’s a prof? 

V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?

R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.

V: Lol he thinks he knows you

R: You have two dads?

V: Yep

R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.

V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?

R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND. 

V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by

One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in. 

-----

In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.

He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”

“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”

Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”

“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.

“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”

Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.

“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.

“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”

“Hello.”

“Salutations.”

“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.

“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”

“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”

“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”

“I’ll start it if I want to!”

The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone. 

“He’s all grown up.”

“That he is, my love.”

-----

Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket. 

“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”

To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.

“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”

Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”

“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies. 

“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”

Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back. 

“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself. 

“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better. 

Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers. 

They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”

“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands. 

“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”

“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”

Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”

“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”

“Why?”

“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”

“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard. 

Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”

“How many kids were in the home?”

“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”

“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda. 

“My foster homes weren’t better.”

“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid. 

“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”

Roman grimaced.

“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”

“You were a kid, Virgil.”

“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”

Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued. 

Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food. 

“I…”

Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.

“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little. 

“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.

“What?”

“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”

“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.

“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought. 

“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…” 

“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster. 

“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”

Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass. 

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness. 

“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions. 

“And me calling you amazing…”

“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while. 

Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process. 

Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas. 

Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist. 

@sapphic-satan

@anxious-logic

@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

@extraintrovertedalien

@punk-academian-witch

@ray-does-stuff

@chimneychimney

@i-cant-find-a-good-username

@falsemood

@wtf-casper

@cpmansion

@killjoyjay

@fandomfan315

@anxious-darkwolf

@eternalmoonlight19

@winterwynd

@espepspes

@ironwoman359

@willowaudreykeyes

@mycatshuman

@weweregoddesses

@im-an-anxious-wreck

@imknittingahat

@surohsopsisofclouds

@korsaromantic66

@astraheart04

@quartz-z

@mikalya12

@koalas-in-coffee

@isabelle-stars

@a-ghostlight-for-roman

@existentialeggdogg

@pumpkinminette

@coffeeflavoredtears525600

@wyvern-tales

@heyhalloween

@grayson-22

@bullet-tothefeels

@mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon

@lovelivingmydreams

@sarcasmremovedsoul

@crofterskinnie

@blissbiscuit

@baka-monarch

@lostspacecat

@green-call

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanderssides #sanderssidesau #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #ts soulmate au

[kraiyan]

i made my own little headcannons to fit in if michael and jeremy were dating and a bunch of other stuff that i don’t want to spoil so take my headcannons and please don’t pay attention to my overuse of the words ‘so’ and ‘like’

i wrote this headcannons for me in my notes so there are mentions of panic/anxiety attacks, light mentions of an eating disorder, nightmares, and self harm but i’ll just put a trigger warning for when those parts show up and if i missed anything that is triggering please let me know

- michael is trans and gay and jeremy is bisexual

- i think they would’ve been friends since kindergarten so they grew up telling each other EVERYTHING

- i feel like michael was really girly as a kid but in like 6th grade he just completely switched to like tomboy but he didn’t do on purpose it just happened

- then in seventh grade michael told jeremy he wanted to be a boy then after that with help from jeremy he came out to his moms

- michael had a crush in jeremy since 7th grade but i don’t think jeremy was his first crush

- i think since michael was straight when he was a girl he just assumed he was straight as a boy and his sexual awakening was captain sparklez

- michael has two moms and jeremys mom would’ve died in a car accident so it’s just him and his dad

- i imagine they confessed to each other in their second year of high school

- (TW: mentions of abuse) jeremy realized he liked michael in freshman year and it was really bad he could not stop thinking about him so when he got squip squip l would not stop punishing him for it

- so jeremy definitely has some problems with his bisexuality

- after years of pining for each other when they finally kissed jeremy could not stop panicking about it

- like they went to sleep fine but he was internally panicking and he tried to keep it together but the next day he absolutely broke just started sobbing saying over and over again “is this okay, are we okay”

- michael is the type to listen to a vulgar music to help his dysphoria

- so him and jeremy are in his car michael plugs in his phone and just starts singings “hoes want to be seen with me and i like their big thick titties”

- and jeremy can do nothing else but be like michael what the fuck

- they decided to keep their relationship a secret and not tell anyone bc of jeremy still coming to terms with himself and he didn’t think his dad would understand

- but i feel like michael moms had already pieced together that they were dating and jeremy didn’t mind that they knew bc they’re literally lesbians but every time jeremy came over from that point forward they had to keep their door open

-(TW: mention of an eating disorder) in a different angstier au jeremy would struggle with eating as a control thing after squip

- (TW: mention of an eating disorder) in an angstier au michael would have an eating disorder cause dysphoria

- i feel like once he realized he was trans he had really bad dysphoria but like with therapy and stuff he got over it

- so i think michael really liked afycso and had it on a vinyl and now jeremy knows all the words

- they don’t do anything at school because jeremy is still uncomfortable so they just pursuit their relationship between closed doors and michaels car in an empty parking lot

- i feel like they both got really excited when michael got referred to as sir for the first time

- jeremy and michael grew up together but ironically when puberty hit michael started to wear baggy clothes than he wore a binder than he wore super baggy clothes to hide his tits after coming out but during squip he had time to self reflect and work on his dysphoria so when jeremy saw michael outside of school he kinda said TITS and was so caught off guard by them

-(TW: mentions of self harm scars) i think michael has sh scars due to losing his childhood best friend and the whole panic attack in the bathroom thing and jeremys seen them but didn’t bring it up to michael because they’re fading so he obviously doesn’t do it anymore but it was a huge shock for jeremy to find out

- they never brought it up tho and it was never discussed bc who cares it was in the past

- michael pants his nails black and i think on some very rare occasion jeremy would paint his nails too (like the way karl paint his) and michael has lots of nail polish cuz on the rare occasion he paints his nails different colors and he repainted his nails every two weeks

- no matter how many times michael has changed in the same room as jeremy even let jeremy help take off his binder jeremy will never not get shy when he changes and will always ask to go into another room

- jeremy is a coffee person but not hot coffe because he always drinks it too early and burns his tongue

- he originally bought his hoodie™️ in really huge size to battle dysphoria but that just made the hoodie last for years

- jeremys name in michaels phone is something very gay and lovey and shit and michaels name on jeremys phone is just michael :)

- jeremy would come home all suspicious and and red faced after him and michael came from an empty parking lot that his dad would not stop begging him to meet this girlfriend of his

- i don’t think jeremy told his dad him and michael were playing a game or something and they kiss jeremys dad comes in and is like what 😦

-and his dad is shocked that he has been pushing girlfriend but he has a boyfriend and is just soooooo awkward about it and never sees michael the same but never makes any rules about them bc he doesn’t want to be homophobic 😭

- i don’t think he was really not supportive but it took him a bit to get used to it but it was so new to him and he was just so phased he just kinda talked to jeremy about his sexuality then left it at that

- they are like gendebend bubbline (marshal lee and the other one yk)

- michael has a queen vinyl the listen to a lot

- so i think michael would still smoke a bit and one time he convinced jeremy to do it with him and jeremy mainly coughed a lot then they just made out the rest of the time but they didn’t tell their parents they would be staying out after school and they both got in trouble

- michael gets blue raspberry and jeremy gets cherry but he also gets coke sometimes too (slushy flavors)

- at the beginning of their relationship they had to take it really slow so that jeremy would feel coqmfortable

- (TW: mentions of panic attacks) so jeremy has nightmares of squip and he wakes up having panic attacks and it’s really tiring bc he only gets 2 hours of sleep if he has these nightmares

- (TW: mentions of panic attacks) i feel like along with his nightmares he also had panic attacks that squip would punish him for pursuing a relationship with a guy let alone michael

- so after he got over his nightmares he just struggled with sleeping and nighttime in general like just fear around going to sleep

- so he often stayed up alll night to avoid sleeping and would like go to bed at 6 or on a good day 4 or 5

- so i think to get over his fear he had to make a routine first he would make some sort of hot drink or just water (mostly sleepy time tea) then he would text michael that he was going to sleep he also wears the same pajamas every time he goes to sleep just to make sure the routine really works then lastly he reads a comic book then he goes to bed

- i think the reason jeremy couldn’t sleep well after getting over the nightmares is because even if squip doesn’t haunt him enough to show up in his dreams anymore it still haunts him enough to stress him out constantly so he doesn’t sleep well

- to conclude the nightmare and sleeping saga jeremy basically has a night routine and sleeps with a night light

- i feel like they both go to therapy but we’re to scared to tell each other (and they both started going to therapy before they started dating)

- so fast forward they’re dating and are trying to plan a date and jeremys like i’m busy on monday at 1 and my dad needs me to help him with something on tuesday so how about wednesday at 3 and michaels like i have somewhere to be like at 3:30 and jeremys like where do you have to be and michaels like where do YOU have to be and so they count to three and say where they’re going to be and they both say therapy and then they’re like you go to therapy i think that would be so cute

- so michael has really thick glasses like his vision is awful so if jeremy is mad at michael he would wake up early and move his glasses over so michael would have to struggle to get out of bed and look for them with his poor ass vision

- he can see things right in front of his face but as soon as it moves a bit too far it’s blurry

- and speaking of his galsses if they’re really kissing along the way jeremy would take of his glasses so they could get closer to each other’s faces (like how elle and tao do in heartstopper )

- michael and jeremy have been friends way too long to not have practiced kissing with each other

- i think christine was a long time crush for jeremy so he definitely practiced kissing michael a lot since they were in 6th grade and michael was just soaking that shit up

- he’d be like what if she wants to make out we should practice that and jeremys like oh yeah you’re right and michael would be so freaking happy

- but they definitely got caught by jeremys dad and he laughed it off cause what else are you meant to when your 11 year old son and his 12 year old best friend are kissing each other

- they didn’t do it anymore after that cause they were soooooooooo embarrassed

- so i don’t talk about the rest of the characters but i’m about to make a headcannon including them so i’m gonna say my headcannons

- so chole is demisexual and panromantic

- brooke is a lesbian

- rich is bisexual and trans

- jake is pan

- jenna is questioning or straight

- and christine is aro/ace

- so i think jeremy and christine dated for a bit then christine broke up with him cause she was all like i can see the way you look at michael and also because she realized she was feeling intense platonic attraction not romantic

- and also i think they’re all friends so they have a group chat where they send homework answers and stuff

- so i think one time jeremy is doing his nighttime routine but this particular night he’s really tired so he texts michael goodnight bby <3 love u then skips the comic book reading and goes to bed but he sent it to their group chat so as soon as he got situated into bed all he hears is his phone going off so he has to check and it’s just everyone freaking out

- so he like fully sits up is looking at his phone in complete shock then realizes he never said a name so they are like who’s this mystery girl

- so he calls michael tells him about the situation then decides he’s ready to come out

- so the next day they’re more handsy then usual like jeremy wiped something off his face michael saw that he was cold and pulled him real close and their friends are like okayyyyy

- but mind you christine knew that jeremy liked michael so she knew exactly what was happening

- so at the end of the day their friend group is making plans to hang out but everyone was busy so jeremy goes well i’ll see you guys tomorrow waves at everyone kisses michael then starts walking to his house then michaels like yea i’m gonna head home to and like drives away and from that day forward their friends would not stop teasing them and were impressed they could keep there secret for so long

- so i feel like michaels moms both have jobs that run late so mom #1 is an er nurse and mom #2 is an account so this leaves michael a lot of time of being alone in his house so naturally you need to take advantage

- so one time mom #2 gets home and walks in just to see jeremy fully on the counter making out with her son

- i don’t think they got in trouble but his mom was like please not on the counter

- and then there was another time where mom #1 came home on her break cause she doesn’t live far from the er so she like yells to michael that she’s home

- and so naturally you come down to hug your mom so he comes down to greet his mom with a red faced jeremy behind him and his mom thought this was so fucking funny but as soon as she’s done laughing she immediately goes anytime jeremys over the doors open and that was the end of it

- everyone has this one thing that someone does that make them all blushy and stuff

- for jeremy it’s when michael wears fitting clothes cause michael is known to wear hoodies or just baggy clothes in general so when michael does get hot and needs to like put something on he puts on one of those body fitting v necks and jeremy losses his shit like he’s fully blushing and avoiding eye contact and since michael changed cause he was hot he’s sure that jeremy is so hot that his face is turning red and he’s embarrassed to say to take off his cardigan so the entire time jeremy is being full homo for his boyfriend michael is thinking he’s about to pass out from a heat stroke

- so i think jeremy enjoys this so much that for the first week of spring michael will only wear fitted clothes because jeremy loves it

- for michael it’s when he’s kissing jeremys neck and jeremy runs his hand thru his hair and pulls it a little when this happens michael loses all common sense one because jeremys enjoying himself so much that he has to kinda tug on michaels hair and two he’s enjoying it so much he doesn’t have time to think that squip is going to punish him and that makes michael just lose his mind so by the time they’ve pulled apart jeremy as sooooo many hickies and they both look at each other like what the fuck did we just do

- moving right along i feel like when jeremy wakes up at night and is terrified to go back to sleep if him and michael are sleeping together he will like hug him until he gets back to sleep and it works every time

- when they were like 7 jeremy got really sick with the flu and michael was so scared that he was going to die so he kissed him while he was sleeping because if his best friend was gonna die so was he and the next day he got really sick with the flu and jeremy would not stop crying because he thought that since michael refused to leave his side he got him sick…they’re idiots

- jeremy is the type to go to school with the worst fever ever he could throw up in the middle of the school day and still not go to the nurse and if he got sick during junior year forget it you had to strap him down to his bed if you wanted him to take a day off like michael had to sedecue him into staying in bed and taking medication so that he could feel better

#be more chill #boyf riends #bmc #bmc headcanons #bmc michael #bmc jeremy

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke

Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.

Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial. 

Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.

Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.

As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?

Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.

I know, I was surprised too!

There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:

Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?

Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.

A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.

Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?

Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.

Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.

Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.

Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.

Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.

Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.

Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.

Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.

Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—

Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.

Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.

First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?

Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.

Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—

Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.

Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.

Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.

Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.

Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.

You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.

Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.

Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.

What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.

Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.

In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.

CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT

Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.

All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.

With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.

I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?

As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.

Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.

Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.

Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.

Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.

Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.

It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.

Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.

Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.

Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.

But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.

Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?

Because his name wasn’t on it.

...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.

In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.

As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.

Man, now it really is the Lost Light.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #world shut your mouth #issue 30 #Hannzreads #text post #long post #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #comic script writing

[cxplqnce]

Liam Dunbar - Immortality

Word Count: 2,016

You’re a 600 year-old-vampire that has been a friend to the Hale’s for years and when Derek met Scott, you became friends with him too. Now Scott has to deal with a new beta that you accidently fall madly in love with after a promise to never love again.

Masterlist

“You guys are idiots, do you know that?” You whisper-yelled at Scott and Stiles outside of Scott’s bedroom – where a freshman named Liam was tied up after Scott had bitten him.

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Scott whisper-yelled back, a definite ‘I need help’ look in his eyes.

You sighed, a few possible solutions running through your brain, “He’s definitely going to turn, right?” The two boys hesitantly nodded their heads as you continued to think, “Then we just talk to him. I mean, he’ll understand. We just need to explain it right.”

The boys agreed and pulled Liam out of the bathtub and into a chair which they placed in front of Scott’s bed. They then looked to you as you leant forward to look in his eyes, “Don’t scream when we take the tape off your mouth.” You said, using your compulsion powers.

You moved and Stiles leant forward to peel the tape off his mouth, a pained groan leaving his throat. “Okay, Liam, now you've seen a lot of confusing things tonight. And more confusing things are going to happen because of the confusing things that happened tonight. Do you understand?”

“Not really.” Liam replied with both you and Scott agreeing with his answer.

Stiles nodded his head, “Good. That's good.”

“I don't understand either.” Scott said, looking up slightly and trying to work it out in his head.

Stiles pointed to Scott and then to Liam, “Maybe you should tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Liam demanded as you rubbed your head and sighed.

Scott took a step forward and softened his tone as he spoke, “Liam... What happened to you, what I did to you, which I had to do in order to save you, it's going to change you.”

“Unless it kills you.” Stiles interrupted but quickly followed with, “Shouldn't have said that.”

“What?” Liam asked, his eyes widened and his heart rate speeding up. Liam’s eyes started to water as he let his head drop. You definitely felt bad for the kid, I mean he was even younger than Scott was when he was turned and younger than you were when you were turned into a vampire.

“Uh... Uh-oh. Oh-oh. Is he... Is he crying?” Stiles questioned as Scott kneeled down in front of Liam.

“Liam, it's okay. You're going to be all right… You're not going to die.” He consoled, as Stiles knelt next to him.

“Probably not.”

“Stop it.” Scott scolded.

Stiles nodded, “Okay, possibly not.”

“Would you just help me untie him?” Scott asked, the two boys moving to pull the tape off Liam and the chair before standing back in front of him, “Liam? Are you okay?”

Stiles looked down for a second before looking back at Liam, “We're sorry about that. We're really sorry.” He spoke, slowly and in almost a whisper.

Liam turned around and before any of you could do anything he grabbed the chair and whacked Scott with it, causing him to fall to the ground – taking Stiles with him. You snorted, a chuckle coming from your throat as Stiles pulled himself up just to get punched by Liam. Your hands flew to your mouth, trying to conceal the laugh in your throat as Liam ran out of the room.

You just watched while Scott and Stiles clumsily got up from the floor and stumbled out the room, following Liam. You shook your head and sighed following the loud noises before finding Scott and Stiles at the bottom of the stairs in a heap and the door wide open. “You boys okay?”

“What the hell were you doing?” Stiles shouted.

“Watching and laughing, a lot.”

--------------

You stood with the rest of your pack in Lydia’s lake house watching the chaos unfold as Kira brought Liam through the door.

“What the hell is this?” Liam demanded, a stern look covering his face.

“Think of it like an intervention.” Stiles began, “You have a problem, Liam.”

“And we're the only ones that can help.” Scott finished.

You sat down, pouring a blood bag into a glass and lifting it up, “This is going to be fun, cheers!”

-------------

You stood watching as Scott and Stiles held a very riled up Liam underneath the shower in an effort to calm him down after he went for one of the students at Devenford Prep.

“Okay! Okay!” Liam yelled, after his face had gone back to normal.

Scott and Stiles pulled back and turned the shower off as Liam slid down the tiled wall and onto the floor, “That car you smashed... I thought you said that was your teacher's?” Scott asked.

“He was also my coach. He benched me for the entire season.” Liam replied.

“What did you do?” You asked, intrigued.

Liam looked down at the floor, “I got a couple of red cards...”

“Just a couple?” Stiles remarked, earning him a jab in the ribs from your elbow.

Scott ignored your little disagreement and continued the conversation, “You gotta be honest with us-- what else happened?”

“Nothing. I got kicked out of school. They sent me to a psychologist for an evaluation.”

“What did they call it?” Scott asked, kneeling down to Liam’s level.

Liam replied while doing everything he could not to meet Scott’s eyes, “Intermittent explosive disorder.”

“I.E.D.? You're literally an I.E.D.? That's great. That's great… You gave powers to a walking time bomb!” Stiles exclaimed, earning him another jab in ribs from your elbow that seemed to put a slight smile on Liam’s face – however fleeting it was.

“Did they give you anything for it?” Scott asked.

“Risperdal. It's an antipsychotic.”

“Oh, this just gets better...” Stiles mumbled.

“But I don't take it—” Liam interjected.

“Obviously!”

You shook your head, “Shut up, Stiles.”

“I can't play lacrosse on it, it makes me too tired.” Liam said, looking down at the floor again.

“Okay. I think you should bail out of the game. Tell Coach your leg is still hurting.” Scott suggested.

“No! No. I can do this-- especially if you're there.” Liam retorted, standing up from his position on the floor.

Scott sighed, “But Liam... this isn't just about the game. We think whoever killed Demarco may have been on our team.”

“Who's Demarco?” Liam asked.

“The one who brought the beer to the party? The guy who was beheaded, remember?” Stiles replied.

“We think the person who ordered the keg killed Demarco.” Scott continued. Liam looked down, thinking for a second. “Liam...? What, you know something?”

“I don't know who ordered the keg... But I know who paid for it.”

-------------

After Liam had told Scott that Garrett had ordered the keg, Scott and Stiles left the room – leaving you alone with Liam.

“You okay?” You asked, taking a step closer to him, from your position against a locker. “That was pretty intense.”

Liam nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay… you must’ve seen that before, right? With Scott.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen out of control werewolves millions of times.” You chuckled, sitting down on a bench in the locker room. “I mean, if you hadn’t have done something like that at least once or twice, I’d think there was something wrong with you.”

Liam sat down on the bench next to you, “How do you know so much about werewolves?”

“I mean, I’ve spent my extremely long life surrounded by the supernatural – mainly werewolves. And I’ve been helping the Hale family for decades… You pick things up.”

“Wait… decades?” Liam questioned, his brows furrowed, “I thought you were 16.”

You nodded, “Physically, yeah. But technically I’m six-hundred and… something – maybe like fourteen or fifteen. I don’t know – I’ve lost count.” You explained, the look of confusion still evident on Liam’s face. “Did Scott and Stiles not tell you that I’m a vampire?”

Liam’s eyes widened, “You’re a vampire? Those exist?”

“Yeah… They do.” You replied, chuckling at his reaction. “And before you ask, I have a ring that lets me walk in the daylight, the reflection thing is a myth and so is the garlic and holy water thing. Also, yes, I do drink blood.”

“That’s insane!” Liam exclaimed, “That’s really cool.”

-----------

For the next two weeks you ended up getting closer to Liam, helping him through his anger and then just generally spending time with him. Unfortunately, you had figured out that you had started to like him – so you started avoiding him. You couldn’t fall in love again, not after what had happened the last time.

It was 1749, you were living in London and had met a man, someone that you connected with and eventually fell in love with. You were about to leave town – as you routinely did every few years – when he found you leaving and you admitted to him what you were. He said he didn’t care so you continued to stay with him. Eventually, you had to leave but he decided to come with you – you found a place in the middle of nowhere, where you could live together.

You got engaged, then married and spent the rest of his life with him. When he died, it broke you and you made a promise to never love again, to never put that life on anyone else.

“Y/N!” Liam yelled from the end of the corridor you had turned into. You tried to turn around but he had already caught up to you, “Are you avoiding me or something? Cause I haven’t seen you in days.”

“No, no I’m not avoiding – I’ve just been busy. Vampire stuff.” You lied, however not very well, but before Liam could reply you made an excuse to leave.

------------

It was raining when Liam called you, you weren’t sure whether to pick up the phone or not but since it could’ve been some kind of emergency – you did.

“Hello?” You asked into the phone.

“Y/N, can you come over please.” He whispered, his voice was shaking and you could hear that he was nervous.

You thought for a second, debating in your head, “Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You hung up the phone and drove to Liam’s house, parking a few houses down and jumping up to his window. You saw him sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands together. You gently tapped on the window, his head whipping around to you before he stood up and came over to open it.

“What do you need at 2 in the morning?” You asked, climbing into his room and closing the window behind you.

Liam debated over what he was going to say before sighing, “I keep seeing the Berserkers, I can’t sleep and I keep going over in my head why you won’t talk to me.” He said, looking at the ground almost the entire time until he mentioned you.

You sighed, sitting down on his bed, “It’s not you, per say. I have been alive for a long time, Liam, and one of the worst things about immortality is love.” You started. Liam sat down next to you, giving you his full attention. “I will outlive everyone that I love, which is why I try not to love very many people. And I promised myself almost 300 years ago, that I would never fall in love with someone again… and then you happened. The reason I’ve been distant is so I can try to stop myself from falling in love with you because I know that one day… I’ll lose you.”

Liam’s eyes widened when you mentioned love and him in the same sentence, “Did it work?” He asked, “Avoiding me to stop falling in love with me?”

You looked up at him, staring right into his blue eyes. “No.” You said, simply, only now realising just how close you were.

“You can’t live without love, Y/N.” Liam said, “It’s one of the most beautiful things in the world.”

You smiled, leaning closer to him, “Then maybe I should give it a shot.”

“You definitely should.” Liam whispered, the small space between your lips closed as he leaned down to kiss you.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Follow my instagram @cxplqnce :) also I take requests if you have any - for any of the fandoms on my masterlist and some others! :)

#liam dunbar #liam dunbar imagine #liam dunbar x reader #liam dunbar one-shot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine

[aquaquadrant]

the little things

Kenji’s mouth is dry. “Ben…?” he croaks out.

Ben swallows. “Oh,” he says, in a very small voice. “It’s you.”

~*~

Ben’s been reunited with the other campers, and seems to have come out the other end of his experience stronger than ever before. But as he slowly finds his place back within the group, a bigger picture starts to emerge, piece by piece.

Rated T for: mental illness, mild language, panic attacks, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, eating disorder (not in a traditional sense, but definitely not a healthy relationship with food)

A/N: Hey Camp Cretaceous fandom, y’all mind if I uhhhh write six-thousand words about Ben’s trauma?? Basically, Netflix kept recommending the show to me so I watched the first ep out of curiosity and then ended up binging the whole thing in like two days, and now here I am.

(Dear sweet, patient, regular readers of mine: I’m so sorry my main fic’s been delayed but I promise it’s getting updated next week, I just had to get some feelings out about Sad Dino Boy)

Hope you enjoy, please reblog and leave a comment if you do! - Aqua

Click here to read on A03 (with more complete tags)

~*~

the little things

~*~ 

Ben Pincus has returned from the dead, and he’s never been better.

The other campers are amazed. What he’s been through must have been horrible. He thought he was the only one left, that there was no one to help him and no hope of rescue because he was presumed dead. It would’ve been enough to drive anyone into despair, or off of the deep end.

But Ben shows no signs of this.

They didn’t find him holed up somewhere, near starvation and waiting to die, like one might’ve expected. They didn’t find him at all, really. He found them, and by coming to their rescue, no less. And when he did, he wasn’t a trembling mess, he wasn’t a half-mad ball of paranoia, and he wasn’t a hollow-eyed skeleton fueled solely by desperation. 

He’s an all new and improved Ben, the best version of himself.

He hasn’t just survived, he’s flourished. He’s brave, he’s confident, he’s capable. He gives his opinions freely and without second-guessing himself, suggesting things the old Ben would’ve recoiled at. He fits seamlessly into the team like he never left. He faces problems head-on with determination and grit and not a trace of fear.

The turnaround is unbelievable. But even more important is that while he’s a new and improved Ben, he’s retained all the best parts of his old self.

Ben is easy smiles and meticulous organization of a leather waist bag and doting affection for a four-ton armored lizard. He’s sensitive and soft-spoken and accepts hugs from his friends gratefully. He still can’t quite pull off coolness, with a voice that sounds as gangly as his limbs look and an awkwardness he hasn’t grown out of.

And it’s perhaps because of this that no one thinks to look closer. This image is an easy thing to accept because it’s what they all want to believe, that Ben is okay- in fact, better than okay. But the truth is not always big and obvious upon first glance.

It’s the little things, as they soon find out.

~*~

That first evening after Ben’s return, after Mitch and Tiff and everything else, they don’t eat dinner.

They all ate their fill at the campsite and, after a month of scarcity, it was more than enough to sate their appetites. It’s Darius who thinks to ask Ben if he’s hungry, remembering that the boy hadn’t had the chance to eat with them. They have a good stockpile of food at the moment and he figures Ben must’ve been struggling.

But Ben shakes his head with an easy smile, and says, “Nah, I ate earlier.”

Darius leaves it at that, because there’s still so much catching up to do. They show Ben around their clubhouse, make plans for where to build a bunk for him (he insists he’d be just fine sleeping on the ground next to Bumpy, but they all veto that immediately). They talk well into the night about the day’s crazy events, filling each other in on their own sides of the story, and everything that’s happened since Ben got separated.

There are some more tears, some more hugs. But ultimately, the mood in the clubhouse is ecstatic. They never thought Ben had survived the fall so to have him back is better than a dream come true, it’s a miracle.

Darius thought he knew what it was to experience a miracle when they first saw that bonfire smoke on the horizon. But if he had to chose between the miracle of them finally leaving the island or the miracle of getting Ben back, it’s not even a competition.

Eventually the exhaustion catches up with everyone, and they turn in for the night. Bumpy parks herself underneath the clubhouse, her presence incredibly reassuring. Ben ends up sharing Kenji’s bunk because it’s bigger than Darius’s even when occupied by two, and the older teen had insisted in a very faux-casual way, to which Ben had rolled his eyes but nonetheless seemed touched by the gesture.

Darius takes the first night watch shift and gets to see all his friends sleeping peacefully. And even though Tiff sailed away with their only means for escaping, he feels a lot more hopeful than he has in a long time.

~*~

It’s canned peaches for breakfast.

A far cry from yesterday’s buffet. But no one’s complaining because the meticulous rationing of their food, courtesy of Darius, means they’re all starving by meal time and couldn’t care less what it tastes like. Darius is in the process of separating the food out into bowls, half a can for each of them, when he realizes Ben has yet to take a seat. He’s lingering at the edge of the room, watching.

“Hey,” Darius calls, “you coming or what?”

Ben shakes his head. “Thanks, but I already got my own breakfast.”

Before Darius can respond, Brooklynn shoots Ben a look. “What? Where?” she demands. “You holding out on us, jungle boy?”

Darius shoots her a look, but Ben just gives an easy smile and unzips the leather pouch that’s reclaimed its spot around his waist. He withdraws a small handful of bright red berries, no bigger than blueberries. It’s not even a fraction of the half-can of peaches the rest of them are settling for, and Darius sees his own unease reflected in the others’ eyes.

Brooklynn glances away. “Oh. Um, sorry. You don’t… you can have some of ours, you know?”

“I’m good.” Ben tosses a couple berries into his mouth. “You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go check on Bumpy.”

“O- oh, okay…” Sammy murmurs, watching Ben go with uncertain eyes. “If you’re sure…”

They’re silent for a moment.

Kenji inhales quietly through his teeth. “So… that’s weird, right?”

Yaz leans forward in her seat. “What do you think, Darius?” she asks lowly.

Darius bites his lip. Even though dinosaurs are his specific topic of interest, he’s gained a lot of second-hand knowledge about general biology and psychology. After all, he has to understand the processes behind behavior in order to identify patterns and deviations.

And right now, he has to admit that Ben is displaying a very concerning behavior.

“I’ll talk to him,” Darius decides.

There’s a collective sigh of relief around the table, and the others start eating. It takes Darius longer than usual to finish his serving.

~*~

“So, uh, bottom line is… you don’t need to feel bad about eating our food. You’re as much a part of this group as anyone else, and we’re happy to share.”

After a couple tense days, Darius is finally talking to Ben about the food situation. Or rather, talking at him. Because Ben’s not looking at Darius- his eyes are tracking the small spider that’s crawling along the railing next to them. Normally, Darius would take it as a sign of boredom and inattentiveness. But there’s an intensity in Ben’s eye that’s a little unsettling-

Quick as a flash, Ben shoots out an arm. He crushes the spider under his thumb and swipes it into his mouth. And then, untroubled as can be, he returns his focus to Darius as if nothing had happened.

Darius has overheard Kenji teasing Ben about eating bugs, and Ben has admitted as much in the stories of his time alone. Berries and grubs were what he lived on. Darius, for one, can’t imagine being hungry and desperate enough to snatch a bug off the ground and eat it.

But it’s even harder to imagine having access to real food, good food, and still choosing to eat bugs.

“Don’t worry so much,” Ben says lightly, patting Darius on the shoulder as he turns to go. “I can take care of myself.”

That does it. “You can’t keep living off berries and grubs!” Darius finally snaps.

Ben whirls around. “Says who?”

“Basic human biology!” Darius retorts.

Ben glares at him, but there’s something shaky behind it. “Darius, I told you it’s fine,” he says evenly, though he doesn’t fully meet Darius’s gaze. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Please? If I’m hungry, I’ll eat.”

Darius hesitates. “You promise?”

Ben breaks into an easy smile. “I promise.”

Darius sighs. It’ll have to be good enough, for now.

“Okay.”

~*~

Darius knows he isn’t the only one still concerned by Ben’s lack of appetite.

Right from the start, Ben was the scrawniest one among them, and it’s only gotten worse. But surely he’ll have to eat at some point, right? Basic survival instincts will win out over whatever stubborn mindset is holding him back. Plus, it’s clear that he’s got enough energy to run and climb and stuff with no problem.

Maybe it’s not as serious as Darius thinks. Maybe Ben just needs time.

~*~

Ben doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

He just- he can’t take their food! Why don’t they get that?

And it’s not because he’s stubborn, it’s not- no matter what Darius thinks. There’s nothing wrong with letting others help you (as long as you don’t let it make you soft, of course). After all, he relies on Bumpy. He just… when he looks at the food, and imagines eating it, he just knows it’ll sit in his stomach. Like a rock, weighing him down.

Plus, plus, if he gets used to eating like that, it’ll just- it’ll be harder to cope once it runs out. He’s already gotten used to roughing it and it was hard enough the first time, he can’t let himself slip back into complacency. And- and really, how long do they think it’s going to last? They’ve searched all the previously inhabited areas of the island and there’s no more food for them to scavenge.

Do they think they’ll be rescued before it runs out? No one is coming to save them. They know it as much as Ben does- they wouldn’t be bothering with rafts if they didn’t. Do they think they’ll escape, then? Sure, because their current attempts have been going so well.

No, they just aren’t thinking long term. Ben is.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

~*~

It’s the sixth day in a row where Ben eats nothing but berries.

He wants to search around some more, see if there’s anything more substantial. That would require him to leave Bumpy, though. And he can’t leave Bumpy. But the hunger is excruciating. It gnaws at him every waking moment, keeps him up at night. He’s never felt such hunger in his life, not even close. He can’t keep going like this, can he?

But there’s nothing else.

Except… something’s crawling up his arm. Something small, and leggy. Ben turns his head, squinting to focus his eyes in the dark. It’s some kind of beetle, with a shiny shell that catches stray shafts of moonlight poking through the roof of his lean-to.

Ben stares at it for a moment. Then, before he can think, he snatches it up and pops it into his mouth. He barely registers any taste, mostly just the crunchy texture. And even though it wasn’t any bigger than a quarter, after he swallows, he feels… fuller. Even if it’s purely imagined, it’s a comfort.

Berries and grubs. It’ll have to be enough.

There’s nothing else.

~*~

Ben continues to decline their offers of food.

~*~

A few weeks after the reunion, Kenji is starting to get antsy.

As the self-designated ‘pro-fun police’ (a clever play on ‘no-fun police,’ if Kenji does say so himself), he’s made it his responsibility to make sure none of his friends just keel over and die from stress one day. That means it’s his job- no, his duty- to lighten the mood with copious amounts of joking, goofing off, and, of course, pranking.

Jumping out to scare his friends while they’re trapped on a dino-infested island might, on paper, sound like a bad idea. But it keeps everyone on their toes, and the relief of realizing they aren’t facing a dino attack, just Kenji pulling a prank, helps keep any real anger at bay. It’s typically an exasperated annoyance, which Kenji will gladly take. His main targets are Brooklynn and Darius, because he can’t fathom doing that to Sammy, and Yaz is- while perhaps in the most need of lightening up- super freaking scary.

But now that Ben’s back, Kenji knows what he has to do.

Before, back when they were just campers and not survivors, Ben was easily the most frightened of them. The kid was scared of dirt. And his over-the-top hysterics always managed to, somehow, put everyone else at ease. Because if Ben was scared of something, that didn’t really mean anything. Again; scared of dirt.

(Now, if Yaz is scared of something, that’s a different story).

Since Ben’s, uh… departure, they’ve been sorely lacking that energy in the group. Kenji would wager he’s not the only one who misses it. He used to have so much fun riling Ben up with just a couple words (none of the others are so easily baited). And whenever Ben would freak out and instantly cling to him, like some kind of scrawny spider monkey, it made Kenji feel… capable, in a way.

Like, if Ben was trusting Kenji to protect him, maybe he wasn’t so useless after all (which was becoming an all too frequent feeling as the others continued to adapt and grow, leaving Kenji struggling to keep up).

Problem is, Ben’s really hard to scare now.

It’s not always obvious, like when he’s bragging about taking down Toro or itching to blow things up. Sometimes it’s the little things. Whenever they’re out in a group, foraging or gathering supplies, and there’s a sound in the distance that makes them all freeze, Ben’s frozen in readiness, not fear. He looks more like Yaz, tense and waiting with his fists up and eyes narrowed.

Sometimes, when they aren’t occupied by any particular task or imminent threat, and have the chance to enjoy some downtime, Ben drifts off to the side and just… watches, all tense, silent, and anxious. He’ll watch the tree line, or Bumpy on the ground below, or even just the rest of them as they go about their business. Kenji is sure he’s not the only one who’s noticed but none of them bring it up.

It’s… unsettling, seeing Ben like this. Kenji figured he just needed a couple weeks to fall back into the rhythm of the group, to see that he didn’t have to be this loner Rambo type of guy anymore. But even though he talks with them easy enough, seems to enjoy their company, and has a good handle on teamwork, it’s like there’s a part of him that can’t fully shake that mentality.

At least, not without help.

~*~

 Kenji’s plan is- in his humble opinion- pretty dang brilliant.

He waits for a time when it’s just him and Ben in the main level of the clubhouse (Yaz is running laps around their perimeter, Darius is in his bunk writing in his nerd book, Brooklynn and Sammy are upstairs going over inventory) and then announces he’s going for a shower. His daily showers are common knowledge at this point, so Ben just nods in acknowledgement and goes back to leaning against the railing, watching Bumpy graze down below in that tense-silent-anxious way of his.

Kenji sets up the shower and lets it run (he’ll go down to the river later and get more water to make up for the waste, because even though he tries to avoid manual labor whenever possible, it’s totally worth it in this case). And then, being more careful and silent than he’s ever been (except maybe in cases where he’s being hunted by dinos), he slowly creeps up behind Ben before leaping forward with a shriek, grabbing him by the shoulders.

Ben doesn’t just jump and scream. He jumps, screams, then spins around and swings a fist into Kenji’s jaw in one smooth motion.

Kenji’s laughing even as he staggers back, his jaw stinging (because at the end of the day, even though Ben’s kind of a badass now, he’s still Ben and his arms are pretty much chicken wings so there’s no real harm done, just a bruise at most). Plus that’s a valid reaction, considering everything, and he can’t say he didn’t deserve it.

“Oh man, I totally got you!” Kenji says anyways, to rub it in. “You should see your… face...”

And Kenji trails off because now he’s seeing Ben’s face.

What Kenji expected is this:

Once Ben realized it was just him pulling a prank, he would get mad. In that totally non-threatening dorky Ben way, where he scrunches his nose and puffs out his cheeks, his little fists clenched at his side like an irate toddler. Maybe he’d stomp off but it’d be worth it because being mad is better than being tense-silent-anxious and it’d give him the chance to be annoyed with Kenji. And maybe Ben being annoyed with Kenji would help everything feel a little more normal, a little more like before.

What Kenji gets is this:

Once Ben realizes it was just him pulling a prank, he doesn’t get mad. He starts shaking. Violently, uncontrollably. Like he’s suddenly come down with hypothermia despite being in a tropical jungle, staring at Kenji all the while and not saying a word. His chest rises and falls rapidly in little panicky breaths and the kind of fear in his eyes isn’t the kind that’s funny. It’s glassy-eyed with shrunken pupils that dart around Kenji’s face, frightened and searching, as if he isn’t fully seeing it.

Kenji’s mouth is dry. “Ben…?” he croaks out.

Ben swallows. “Oh,” he says, in a very small voice. “It’s you.”

Kenji hasn’t heard Ben’s voice sound that small since before, and it doesn’t feel like a victory.

By now, of course, the others have noticed the commotion and it doesn’t take more than a second for them to piece together what happened. Yaz rounds on Kenji with a furious snarl and whisper-screams a lecture about how stupid and irresponsible he is. Darius is immediately trying to mediate the situation while Sammy frantically asks Ben if he’s okay, to which he doesn’t respond. Brooklynn steps in, citing an unboxing video about dealing with shock, and when she goes to put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, he lets her.

And now Kenji realizes where he miscalculated. Ben never showed discomfort with physical contact before because he’d never been surprised by it before (because Ben has gotten scary good at being alert, always keeping an eye and an ear out on his surroundings even in the middle of a conversation). And when it came to his friends, it wasn’t unexpected for Sammy to rush in with a hug or Darius to pat his shoulder or Brooklynn to playfully knock elbows.

But Kenji snuck up on him, so Ben’s first thought wasn’t that it was a friend. It was that he was going to have to run for his life, like he has countless times since being stranded on this island.

Kenji apologizes over and over again as Darius gently leads him away by the elbow and Brooklynn talks to Ben in low tones while Sammy squeezes his hand and Yaz takes up a lookout position because they can’t afford for all of them to be distracted even though she occasionally cuts a glare at Kenji out of the corner of her eye so it’s really debatable how vigilant she’s actually being.

Throughout it all, Ben doesn’t get mad, but he doesn’t stop shaking.

 ~*~

 Darius explains it, later.

“The sudden fear reaction signaled a bunch of adrenaline to be released into his bloodstream, to give him the energy needed for running. And then, when he didn’t, there was nowhere for that energy to go. It’s like, even though his mind knew there wasn’t any danger, his body wasn’t convinced.” Then, a sympathetic look. “You didn’t know, man.”

Kenji only nods. But knowing doesn’t make it better because even though Ben’s stopped shaking he doesn’t turn his back on Kenji anymore and somehow that’s a million times worse than if he’d gotten mad.

 ~*~

 There are claws wrapped around Ben’s shoulders and shrieks in his ears.

Wind whips his face and his stomach lurches as he’s carried through the air, weightless, at the mercy of the Pteranodon. He’s never felt so small and utterly helpless before, not once in his life. Even his screams aren’t big enough to carry, snatched away by the wind and deafened by the roars of the terror-birds fighting over the right to tear him limb from limb.

And then he’s falling and has other things to worry about.

 ~*~

 Ben stops sharing Kenji’s bunk.

 ~*~

 In a rare moment of downtime, Yasmina is curled up with Darius’s field guide, adding a few more illustrations, when she feels Ben staring at her.

It’s not the first time she’s felt him staring at her. It is the first time, however, that she decides to stare back.

She means it to be playful, at first. She meets his eyes, one brow quirked as if to say, ‘What, is there something on my face?’ But instead of glancing away in sheepish embarrassment or jolting out of a daze, Ben just stares back. There’s no emotion in his expression at all except intense focus.

The faint smile drops from Yasmina’s face as she stares back in surprise. Then, with ever-growing confusion and a fair amount of alarm, she realizes that Ben’s shoulders are rising, tense and hunched like he’s trying to make himself look bigger.

Like an animal.

Yasmina knows what it is to stare down a wild animal. She’s felt predatory eyes on her before and either bolted or turned to face the challenge. And that’s what it is, for some of the dinos- a challenge. Sometimes they’re testing your mettle, and standing your ground is enough to make them back off.

Ben must’ve learned that, too. And for whatever reason, he’s slipping into that behavior now.

It’s a ridiculous thought. This is Ben, her friend. Her very scrawny friend who can’t weigh more than ninety pounds soaking wet, and prefers a diet of berries and grubs. And yet, here he is, staring her down like she’s a particularly bold pack of Compies that’s decided to threaten him.

Yasmina gives a slow, deliberate blink. “Ben?” she calls. “What’s up?”

Just like that, the spell is broken. Ben gives a violent start, blinking and shaking his head. Yasmina sees confusion flash across his face, and then realization. And now the embarrassment comes, but it’s darkened by something like horror.

Without a word, Ben turns and darts away, scrambling down the ladder to the alcove underneath the house where Bumpy’s napping.

Yasmina lets him go, too baffled and unsettled to form words.

 ~*~

 Eventually, Yasmina tells Darius about it.

His expression is troubled as she runs through the incident. But in the end, there’s nothing more he can tell her than what she’s already worked out on her own. It’s just another side effect of the mindset Ben has adopted throughout his isolation. Those habits were what he relied on to survive, and it’ll take time for him to realize he doesn’t have to constantly be on edge now that he’s got a team to look out for him.

Though privately, Yasmina wonders if maybe the rest of them should take a page out of Ben’s book. Seems like he’s got a better handle on survival than they do.

(And then she thinks how Sammy would react, if Yasmina started acting like a wary animal around her, and she realizes Ben’s methods come with a price.)

 ~*~

 After Ben runs the Compies off for the first time, staring becomes a defense tactic.

It’s not always the Compies, who are slowly but surely learning not to mess with him. Sometimes it’s the Parasaurolophus in the river, or the lone Pteranodon perched in a tree, or the group of Edmontosauruses grazing on the hilltop. As soon as he feels their eyes on him, he knows his best chance is to stare back, to show that he’s willing to put up a fight, that chasing him wouldn’t be worth it.

Obviously, there are some dinosaurs that doesn’t work on. But if Ben can drastically cut down the amount of time spent running for his life by standing his ground, then he’ll take it.

All he has to do is not back down.

 ~*~

 Ben avoids Yasmina for the next few days.

 ~*~

 Brooklynn wakes up in the middle of the night with an unshakeable feeling that something is wrong.

Her bad feeling is confirmed when she gets a look at the moon. Based on its position in the sky, she should’ve been woken up by Ben to take her night watch shift at least an hour ago. This practice, established by Darius months ago who insisted they should always have at least one person awake, has already become routine within the group. Brooklynn couldn’t sleep fully through the night if she tried.

Ben’s only just recently become a part of the routine. Immediately after his return, Darius thought it best just to let Ben settle in and get as much rest as he could, now that he had the security to do so, and everyone agreed. Ben had insisted he didn’t mind, but Darius stood firm, so it’s only been within the last few days that Ben took part.

But this is the first time he hasn’t woken Brooklynn up and her heart is in her throat as she rushes to the lookout point-

Only to find Ben sitting right where he’s supposed to be, looking out over their compound as a small candle burns next to him.

As soon as Brooklynn’s relief passes, it’s replaced with anger. “What are you doing?” she whispers furiously.

Ben, not at all surprised by her presence, gives her a sidelong look. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You were supposed to wake me up, so I could do night watch.” Brooklynn struggles to keep her voice low, so as not to alert the others. “What gives?”

Ben shrugs. “I knew I wasn’t gonna sleep tonight, so I figured I’d just take the whole watch myself.”

“That’s not how this works,” Brooklynn hisses, crossing her arms. “Even if you can’t fall asleep- and I’ve totally been there- you have to lay down and close your eyes and rest. You need to rest.”

Ben breaks into an easy smile, but Brooklynn can see the annoyed creases at his eyes. “Hey, it’s fine. I can-”

“Take care of yourself, I know,” Brooklynn interrupts, hating how frustrated she sounds but unable to help it. “But you don’t have to. We’re a team. We can take care of you too, alright?”

Ben stares at her for a moment. “I know that,” he says, sounding uncertain.

Brooklynn softens. When she reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder, he lets her. “Then… why?”

“I don’t know,” Ben admits. The muscles beneath Brooklynn’s hand are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. “I don’t know.”

They finish the night watch together.

 ~*~

 Brooklynn almost hates to bring it up to Darius.

Dude’s stressing almost nonstop about everything, all the time. And it really isn’t fair for him to be responsible for the rest of them, including Ben. But Darius is the only one who seems to have the… what’s it called, emotional intelligence, she supposes, to weigh in on the situation.

(Sammy is a close second, but her brand of caring is a little more touchy-feely, and this doesn’t seem like the right time for that.)

Darius is immediately worried, pointing out that Ben might accidentally fall asleep on watch if he keeps this up (something Brooklynn hadn’t even thought about). He promises to talk to Ben about it, and that’s that.

Brooklynn is only slightly relieved because she knows if Darius had a real fix for the problem, he would’ve said so. And if Darius doesn’t have a fix for it, maybe there isn’t one.

 ~*~

 Those first several nights, Ben doesn’t sleep at all.

And it’s not for lack of trying. But how can he sleep, when it’s pitch black and the jungle is full of unfamiliar sounds and he’s got no one but a baby Ankylosaurus by his side? He soon finds it’s even worse without Bumpy, though, because at least he trusted that Bumpy would wake up if there was any danger, as her senses are more powerful than his.

On his own, there’s no one to wake him up. So he has to stay up, and settle for catching short scattered naps throughout the day (if he can find a tree to hide up in).

It’s hard, but he’d rather be tired than dead.

 ~*~

 Ben is taken off night watch, but still ends up awake more often than not.

 ~*~

 Pyromaniac is a word no one ever expected to become synonymous with Ben, and yet here they are.

It’s one of the first things he always suggests as an answer to a problem; blow something up. Darius has a million reasons for them not to do that; they could get hurt, they could start a wildfire and burn the jungle down, they could attract unwanted attention from predators.

But that doesn’t stop Ben from cataloguing everything on the island that can be used as an explosive, memorizing their locations or creating hidden stashes. It doesn’t stop him from using the candles that came with the scavenged emergency kits. He’ll light them for no reason, just to watch the small flame flicker back and forth.

(Someday, months later, they’ll encounter a horrific hybrid dinosaur that is drawn to flames, and they’ll all think about how unsettling it is that Ben shares this trait, but none of them will say it.)

 ~*~

 It’s been one week since Bumpy left, and Ben is starting a fire.

Just a small one. It rained all day and he’s soaked to the bone, which normally wouldn’t be a huge problem considering the jungle climate. But now that it’s nighttime, there’s a chill in the air and he can’t afford to get sick. It’s risky, because at night he knows the light could draw attention to him, but his teeth are starting to chatter so there’s no helping it.

When a Stegosaurus stumbles upon him, baying low and angry at finding another creature in its territory, it’s the fire that makes it balk. Rumbling displeasure, it retreats back into the dark jungle. Ben quickly adds torches to his arsenal, using the rest of his shirt as tinder.

Fire is safety.

 ~*~

 Ben lights his candles in silence.

 ~*~

 “You can’t just run off like that,” Kenji says, deadly serious.

Ben scoffs. “I think you’re forgetting who defeated Toro,” he says with an easy smile.

“You’re not invincible, Ben!” Kenji snaps. The anger churning inside him is deceptively hollow, like it’s masking something else. “And I can’t lose you again.”

Ben isn’t smiling anymore. “You won’t,” he mutters, pushing past Kenji. “I can take care of myself, now. I don’t need you to play the hero and protect me.”

Kenji wants to protest that’s not what this is about, and that’s never been what this is about, but Ben is already gone.

 ~*~

 Ben still lives off berries and grubs.

 ~*~

 “… and so I was thinking, berries have seeds in them, right? So if we plant some, we’ll have our own berry bushes at the clubhouse. It’ll cut down our foraging time in the mornings for sure, and-”

“Uh, who are you talking to, Ben?”

Ben blinks at Yasmina’s voice, the girl having only just entered the room.

“Um, Bumpy?” he says, as if this should be obvious.

Yasmina glances out at the compound, where Bumpy is fast asleep and well out of earshot.

“… right.”

 ~*~

 Ben can’t sleep, even when he’s actually trying.

 ~*~

 “Alright,” Darius says, “so we need to get the T-Rex out of Main Street so we can do another sweep for supplies. Any ideas?”

Ben’s hand goes up.

“For the hundredth time, Ben, we aren’t going to feed the T-Rex to the Mosasaurus.”

Ben’s hand goes down.

 ~*~

 Ben feels more at home with Bumpy than the other campers.

 ~*~

 “You know we didn’t mean to leave you, right? We would’ve come back for you if we’d known…”

 ~*~

 Ben never talks about getting off the island.

 ~*~

 “You have to tell us where you’re going, Ben, you can’t just disappear-”

 ~*~

 Ben keeps slipping away.

 ~*~

“Blowing stuff up isn’t the answer to everything!”

~*~

 Ben keeps saying he’s okay.

 ~*~

 “We’re a team, we have to work together-”

 ~*~

 Ben keeps smiling.

 ~*~

 “Don’t you trust us to protect you?”

 ~*~

 Ben doesn’t know.

 ~*~

 Sammy finds Ben sitting on the roof of the clubhouse one day.

Her footsteps are loud and obvious as she approaches him. No chance of sneaking up. She knows he’s noticed her, from the subtle shift in his body. He doesn’t acknowledge her, though, continuing to stare off over the jungle and into the horizon, his skinny legs slotted through the railing and dangling over the edge.

The sun’s about to set, a few stars already twinkling in the purple edges of the sky. Sammy can remember another night, months ago, where Ben wasn’t here but everyone else was and they spotted bonfire smoke in the distance. She remembers the way her heart raced, the overwhelming joy and relief flooding through her. And yet, there had been undeniable heartache, because the realization that they’d made it out only meant it was more unfair that Ben hadn’t.

Sammy breaks the silence after a few moments.

“Are you okay?”

Ben doesn’t look at her, but she can see the easy smile that slants across his face, dying sunlight reflected in his eyes.

“Yeah.”

Sammy sees the lie for what it is. None of them are okay. No one who’s been through what they have would be. But there’s a certain danger that comes with not being willing to admit it, and an even greater danger that comes with not being able to see it.

“Y’know, it’d be fine if you weren’t.”

Ben doesn’t answer.

Sammy sits with him until the sky turns dark.

 ~*~

 It’s the way he struggles to eat anything he hasn’t obtained by himself.

It’s the way he sometimes goes off on his own without telling anyone.

It’s the way he talks to himself when he thinks no one else is around.

It’s the way he takes any concern for his safety as a personal attack.

It’s the way he leaps at the chance to blow something up.

It’s the way he can stare silently for hours.

It’s the way he smiles a little too easily.

 ~*~

 It’s not jumping at every unexpected movement, or screaming awake from night terrors, or flinching away from the slightest touch. It’s not loud meltdowns or hysterical sobbing or uncontrollable fits of rage.

(Even though those will come, someday, when the island is just a memory.)

It’s the little things, that- once you notice them- keep piling up.

And suddenly, they don’t seem so little anymore.

 ~*~

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #jwcc #jwcc fanfic #my writing

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

{Metanoia}

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader, Older brother! Jimin x Reader, Hoseok x reader

*8k- ongoing

Genre: Enemies to lovers, childhood friends, major misunderstandings

Warnings: Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral (male receiving) 

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he pushes you off the slide. Second time he calls you ugly. After that things continue spiraling downwards: he cuts your dolls’ heads off, tells everyone you’re a freak at school, spreads malicious rumors; Jungkook’s sole purpose in life is tormenting you. So why five years later is he insisting you two belong together?

Based on a prompt request  by @bangtaened-army​ turned fic. Sorry bangtaened-army for the wait, and the fact that I still haven’t touched the original requested prompt..

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  "I can't believe you would do this to me, Jiminie. After everything I have ever done for you. " you hiss into the phone. Your low voice does little not to garner the nosy looks of other people awaiting their luggage. Despite it being two am at an airport people never tired of drama, and you plotting the murder of your older brother could feed a whole TV show. See Jimin was supposed to pick you at the baggage claim. Keywords supposed to. However, instead of being greeted by your annoying yet lovable sibling you were greeted by someone just plain annoying. 

    "You're being dramatic, (Y/N). I sent Jungkook to pick you up, not Ted Bundy." Jimin replies dryly. Even through the phone you can tell he is rolling his eyes at you. He never understood your hatred towards Jungkook. To him, the dark haired boy is a sweet innocent boy who could do no wrong but you know better. The devil lives inside Jungkook. 

   "I would've preferred the serial killer. At least he'd be less of an ass-" Jungkook grabs the phone from your hand purposely shifting away so you can't take it back. Not that it makes much difference. Even if he was facing you, you would have to jump to reach him.  "Hey man, it's me. Yeah, I know she's a pain but I'll bring her home. No don't worry about it I'm used to it by now. "

    You roll your eyes at this. "Used to it by now," once again everyone sees you as the problem, not Jungkook. Forget the fact he tortured you all throughout childhood. Or that he's the reason everyone bullied you throughout high school.  "Here, you going to behave now or throw another tantrum?" Jungkook asks, hanging back your phone. 

    Immediately you snatch it from his hands clutching it close to your chest. "Never take my phone out of my hand again. You hear me, Jeon?!"

   "Then stop acting like a child and we won't have a problem." Jungkook snarks, arms folded over his chest as he looked down upon you as a parent would. 

    "Fuck you, Jeon! I'll find my own way home." You snap spinning around on your heels. 

     However before you can even take a step, caveman Jungkook throws you over his shoulders. He smacks your ass undoubtedly grinning as he does so. "Alright princess, enough playing. I promised your family to drive you home safely and I'm going to do just that. "

     "You heathen! Let me down!" You pound against his back to no avail. He merely hits your butt again continuing to walk through the airport without a care. Seriously where did airport security go? Aren't they supposed to be on alert for kidnappers or something?

    Apparently not because Jungkook strolls straight past a guard twiddling his thumbs. "Seriously?! Way to keep Korea safe man. I'm being kidnapped before your eyes here, dumbass."

    The guard shoots Jungkook and you a questioning look, clearly unamused by you calling him ‘dumbass.’ Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, bowing apologetically towards the guard. His grip on you not slipping for even a second. "Sorry she's drunk. Please ignore her." 

    The guard nods. "Best get her out of here or  I'll have to detain her for drunken disorder."

     "Will do. Thanks." 

    "I am not drunk-" you start only Jungkook to hit you yet again hard. You yelp face turning red as the guard laughs. "I swear to God I will murder you. "

    "Do you want security to detain you? Because I'm pretty sure you'll be flagged as a flight hazard and stuck in Korea forever. " 

  Just the mere thought sends shivers down your spine. "No, thank you. "

"Didn't think so. " Jungkook replies. He carries you all the way to his car parked in the visitors' center. Not even letting you go as he climbed the three flights of stairs to get there. Undoubtedly he guessed-and correctly so- you'd run the second he let his guard down. Even when he sets you down to open his car door one hand remains firmly wrapped around your wrist.

     You sigh loudly. "Isn't this a little overkill? We're at your car now."

  "Sit." He merely says, pointing at the seat.

Tossing him a glare you do as told. Despite your previous bravado you know full well Jungkook is right, he is your only way home. Taxis are too expensive, and the rideshare apps went nowhere near your home. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Jungkook’s won this round. Still that doesn’t warrant the victorious grin on Jungkook’s face or the added salt of him reaching over to buckle your belt. "Overkill. Utter overkill. "

   "Got to keep the princess safe don't I?" he says sweetly.

    You cringe. "Enough with the princess stuff. You know I hate that. "

“You didn’t hate it when you were riding my dick last time you came home.” Jungkook mentions, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you. Heat rises to your cheeks at the memory of your last visit: Jungkook’s large hands gripping your waist as you fucked him in the backseat of his car.  His hot breath against your ear whispering dirty things that would make a porn star blush. That feeling of your toes curling as he hits the right spot-

    You shake the memory away. Fucking Jungkook was a mistake. It should’ve never happened. “That was a one time thing, Jeon. I was vulnerable last time. I just got out of a three year relationship-”

   “And you just happened to fall on my dick several times.” Jungkook snorts. His tone stays calm but you can see how his knuckles whitened gripping the steering wheel. “Look you can make all the excuses you want, but it doesn’t change what happened between us. We had sex. Good sex if I might add.”

   “Great sex.” You admit. “But that’s all.”

     As great as Jungkook and you were together, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap again. The dark haired boy bullied you for years. He made you cry countless times. Great sex didn’t change anything. Not when you know Jungkook would hurt you in the end.  Neither of you speak as Jungkook pulls out of the parking lot. Whatever conversation you have ends like it always does in harsh words. So for the next hour and a half you stare out the window contemplating your life until your eyes close shut.

   It’s not until a door slams that you open them again. Half awake you can barely make out the familiar street lights of your neighborhood hanging above, or the equally memorable 

houses of it surrounding you. Your car door opens to reveal a haggard Jungkook. He leans over unbuckling you without a word. His soft lush hair tickles your skin as he struggles to get you free.  You reach out to comb your fingers through it. 

   “Are we here?” you mumble, entranced by the silky feel of his hair. “Do we need to get out?”

      Jungkook nods. “Yeah, we’re here. Go back to sleep princess. I got it.”

     You yawn barely comprehending as an arm slides underneath your knees. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

     Closing your eyes again you miss Jungkook’s soft whisper of, ‘I’m sure.’

-----

Sunlight hits your face chasing away your dreamless sleep. Your eyes open slowly, greeted by the harshness of lavender colored walls filled with high school photos and cringey boy band posters from way back in the day. Nothing about your bedroom has changed moving out all those years ago.  Everything stayed exactly the same from when you were a teenager. Dreadfully so unfortunately. 

    Groaning you stretch trying to remember how you got into bed. Last thing you remember is asking Jungkook if you were home as he unclipped your seatbelt, so you had to have gotten up.  You must’ve been so tired nothing really processed. A thirteen hour flight would do that to you after all.  “Look what the cat dragged in. I see you survived the car ride with Jungkook alright.” Jimin grins, standing in the doorway of your room. 

   You toss a pillow at him only to miss. “Barely. Seriously what were you thinking having him pick me up? You know how I feel about him.”

     Jimin rolls his eyes. “I was thinking I have work the next day, and that Jungkook is the only guy I trust to pick up my little sister. Because not only would he keep her safe, but he’s the type of guy to carry her inside when she’s passed out.”

    Your mouth dried. “What?”

“I said Jungkook carried your ungrateful ass inside.” 

    Suddenly the memory of Jungkook carrying you in comes to mind. His strong arms wrapped around you as your fingers buried themselves into his shirt. You were only half awake, but you remember everything from the way his cologne smelt to the soft beat of his heart lulling you back to sleep. ‘Sweet dreams princess.’

    “No way. He hates me-besides I’m wearing pajamas!” You protest.

Jimin sighs. “Yeah. That I may have punched him for doing, but (Y/N), Kook doesn’t hate you. Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.”

    “I don’t believe you.” How could you? The first day you ever met Jungkook he kicked you off the slide causing you to scrape your knees. Second time you two met he called you ugly before running off to play with Jimin. After that things got worse, from destroying your barbies, putting kick me signs on you, spreading rumors about you in high school, to telling your crush you were a slut. If those weren’t the actions of a boy who hates you, then you don’t know what is.

    Jimin murmurs something about  ‘misunderstandings’ under his breath, but doesn’t clarify. Instead he simply says. “Look, think what you want, but Jungkook spent the night yesterday since he was too tired to drive home. So be nice okay?”

   “Whatever.” you reply, not mentioning the fact he lives down the road. Just this once you’d behave. After all, he did carry you home.

   Jimin smiles, tossing the pillow back. Naturally it hits you right square in the face.  "Good girl. Now get dressed. The last thing I need to see is my best friend eyeing up my little sister. "

  You let out a silent curse, but do as told. Honestly it really didn't matter. When you lived at home you walked around in yoga pants while braless all the time, Jungkook be damned. This was your house and you refused to give up comfort because your brother's friend came over. It drove Jimin insane. To the point he'd throw random items until you either changed or returned to your room. However that was ages ago before Jungkook ever saw you naked or bent you over the counter of his kitchen.

   “Stop it.” You slap yourself. “Thinking about it will do you no good.”

    Unfortunately the pep talk does little to stop the wanting ache between your legs. Jungkook is the last person you slept with since breaking up with your ex. After you returned to America the last time you simply threw yourself into work, barely sparing a glance at the opposite gender. “Fuck. You need to get laid, (Y/N). Preferably not by Jeon this time.” you whispers.

----- 

   Breakfast is an interesting affair. Like always your parents and brother treat Jungkook as if he's part of the family, your mother piles food onto his plate while your father and Jimin discuss the latest sports and news trends with him. Occasionally one of your parents will praise Jungkook on something he did, mentioning how proud they are of him to which Jungkook eats up like a starving man at a feast. 

     Meanwhile you play around with your rice ignoring the sour feeling of getting ignored by your own family. After all, it's not like you lived out of the country and only came home once in a blue moon. So what did it matter if your childhood enemy ate up all your attention? "Thank you again, Jungkook, for bringing (Y/N) home. I know how much of a pain she can be to you. " your mother says. 

   Jungkook grins, the sun practically illuminating him from behind as he tactfully shrugs off the gratitude with a, 'It's no problem, Mom.' His butter wouldn't melt in my mouth routine sickens you to the point you want to vomit. 

     "I would've been perfectly fine finding my own ride home. " You mumble indignantly. 

   The comment earns you a sharp whack on the head by your mother's slipper. "The words are, 'thank you, Jungkook. ' I swear I don't know how I raised such an ungrateful daughter. "

     You roll your eyes, swallowing the comment about her shitty parenting skills. "I mean how are you ever going to find a husband with that bad attitude of yours?" She laments, projecting into her usual rant of marriage and grandchildren. 

    Like always you ignore it taking the few blows to the head she gave whenever ranting about your marital future. Besides you, Jimin snickers enjoying your torment, having been born a boy he's safe from your mother's wrath since 'no girl is good enough for my precious Jimmie.' Thankfully your father has an ounce of sympathy left for you. "She's doing fine, hunny. (Y/N) has a good home and a steady job-"

    "You're too soft on her! That's why she's like this. " your mother dismisses. "I mean what man would fall for a woman with such an ugly personality?"

   Your heart gives a painful squeeze at her words, while such speech is common with your mother that doesn't make it hurt any less.  "Actually I know someone who'd be interested in going out with (Y/N)." Jungkook pipes up, a big grin stretching across his face. 

   You shoot him a warning glare to which he shrugs off. A surprise gasp- that is way too exaggerated in your opinion- escapes your mom, she looks at Jungkook as if he hung the moon. "Oh Jungkook, that would be wonderful. But we ask you to risk your friendship like that."

    "I promise you're not. This guy has loved- liked (Y/N) for a long time. He knows what she's like. " Jungkook waves off. 

   "Really? Who?" your dad asks, causing you to frown. Why does everyone think you are so unlovable? Seriously you are starting to get insulted, although you also question Jungkook and his 'friend. '

  Jimin snorts, giving Jungkook a weird look. "Yes Jungkook, who is this mysterious guy madly in love with my sister?"

   The tips of Jungkook's ears turn red and he ducks his head sheepishly, probably not expecting Jimin to call him out on his bluff.  "What does it matter? A man is interested in our (Y/N)! All my prayers are answered!" Your mom cries, saving Jungkook from whatever bullshit he is about to spout. "Oh Jungkook, you're so wonderful. Any mother would be lucky to have you."

    "Hey!" Jimin protests, earning a string of reassurances and praises from your mother. For a man who prided himself on his cool nature,  Jimin was a mama's boy.

   "I'm going to get started on the dishes. " you sigh, collecting the empty plates. As much as you love your family there's only so much one can take of them, hence moving to America. 

  "I'll help." Jungkook says, quickly gathering the dishes from your hand. Without another word he disappears into the kitchen like a little boy eager to impress his mom or in this case your mom; it  adds to your rising irritation. You don't know what his game is, but if Jungkook thinks he can pull a fast one on you, he'll be sorely surprised.

    You enter the kitchen to find Jungkook already washing the dishes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up displaying his smooth muscular arms. Your eyes roam over them taking in the tattoos littered on his tan skin; he had gotten more since you last saw him, practically a full sleeve now. They look good on him not that you would ever admit it. "Hey, I wash, you dry?" Jungkook offers, throwing a towel your way. 

    You frown. "I got it. Go back to the table."

    Jungkook scoffs. "Seriously? You would rather do dishes- which you hate doing- then spend five minutes with me?"

   "Oh don't try to guilt trip me,  Jeon. That whole 'I know someone who likes (Y/N),' what utter bullshit. " you snap. "Tell me, were you going to laugh when I arrived at some restaurant only and no one comes?"

    Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You really need to see someone about this paranoia issue of yours, because this is beginning to get ridiculous.”

    “Excuse me? Paranoid? You bullied me all my life-"

  "I pushed down the slide when we were four. Get over it."

   "You cut off my barbies' head! Repeatedly called me ugly. Spread rumors about me in high school, and to top the cherry off you told Hoseok,  I was a slut. So no I won't get over it." You stomp your foot. 

   Jungkook clenches his jaw, the cup in his hand practically cracking under his grip. He says nothing, dropping the cup and sponge into the sink, before storming out like a madman.From the living room your parents call out Jungkook's name only for him to ignore them. The front door slams shut shaking the house so hard that the dishes tremble in their drying rack.

 "What happened to being nice to Jungkook?" Jimin's voice surprises you from behind. Disappointment is written all over his face, and the way his body positions itself (arms crossed, legs parted) tells you, you're in for a lecture. 

   You turn away not in the mood to be parented by someone two years your senior. Especially not when he allots Jungkook to bully you without a single reprimand. "He started it. Telling mom he'd set me up with some imaginary guy only to laugh when I get 'stood up."

     Jimin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.  "You two are killing me. Look I can't spell it out for you, that is Jungkook's business, so I am just going to say this...I destroyed your barbies not Jungkook. "

   You froze. "What?"

 "I cut off Minnie's, Hana's and Lany's heads. You pissed me off by eating my snack. I wanted revenge." Jimin shrugged. 

   "B-but I caught Jungkook red handed! I saw him with Minnie's head!" 

   A sheepish look grew on his face. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, a habit he did whenever nervous. "Yeah, he was trying to fix her. "

   The dish in your hands drops shattering against the kitchen floor. Your mouth opens but no words come out; funny seeing how thousands of thoughts run through your head. "You asshole!" 

     Jimin winces. "Sorry. It was a dick move- but my point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?”

------

       You spend the next few days wandering around town bored. While you feel grateful to be home and see everyone you love, the list of things to do in your town is actually quite small compared to home ( perks of living in a small town). Outside of grocery shopping with your mom, reading on the veranda with your father, and bugging Jimin whenever possible, there’s not much to do. Things are especially boring since Jungkook disappeared after that morning. The bunny looking boy normally makes it his personal mission to bother you as much as possible. Disregarding the few hours he has to work, Jungkook always was there first thing in the morning to laugh at your ridiculous bed head. Yet for the last few days he’s been nowhere in sight.  When asked about it Jimin merely shrugged saying he was busy, before smirking and stating unnecessarily, “If you miss him that much, why don’t you call him yourself?” 

       It isn’t that you miss Jungkook, despite what Jimin said about your Barbie dolls, you still believe deep down he hates you. After all just because you were wrong about one thing didn’t mean you were wrong about everything else.  No, you asked Jimin, because it’s unusual given that the boy practically lived at your home. It’s not like you actually miss his stupid face over something. Perhaps if you had more friends this boredom wouldn’t be an issue. Sadly you weren’t much of a social butterfly back in high school; unlike Jimin who was part of the “popular” crowd, you were an outcast. As much as you tried, the only people who would hangout with you were Jimin’s friends.

     At first you thought it was something you did, but later you found out Jungkook told everyone you were a ‘freak of nature,’ and it was only because he and the others felt bad that they hung around you. Hearing what he said devastated you. It was the first time you realized how much Jungkook hated you. Moreover his words stopped you from ever really trusting anyone who wanted to be friends.

 “Isn’t it possible you are wrong about everything else?”  

Pushing the thought back you try to ignore the nagging feeling growing inside birthed by your brother’s words.  You fucking doubt it. How could something like that be so easily explained away? “I think this is your fifth lap around town.” a familiar voice calls out, snapping you back to reality. “People are beginning to think you’re a weirdo.”

       You don’t even have to look up to tell who it is. On this planet only one person owns a voice so annoying it instantaneously grates on your nerves. “Get lost, Jeon. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He snorts, continuing to follow you in his car. “You know it’s supposed to storm today right? You should head home before it pours.”

“Like I said: No One Asked You, Jeon.” you reply, promptly turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction.  He’s the last person you want to see given your current thoughts. Whatever longing you might’ve previously had for him disappeared the moment you remembered why Jungkook was your enemy. Thankfully he doesn’t follow most likely finding something more interesting to waste his time on.

You continue walking onwards too infuriated by the past to notice the dark clouds starting to form above. It’s not until something wet hits your skin that you take notice of the sudden drop in temperature and gathering winds. “Fuck.” you hiss feeling another raindrop.

Of course Jungkook would be right. The universe just fucking loved him like everyone else did. You get stuck with the short end though: running in the rain searching for shelter, only for you to naturally find yourself in the part of town  empty of all businesses. “Perhaps I can stand under a tree until it calms down.” 

 Lightning flashes across the sky followed by a loud BOOM of thunder making you jump. A small sob escapes your lips as you subconsciously curl yourself into a ball. Thunder always scares you no matter how old you get. “I’m not here. I’m not here.” you whisper, rocking on balls of your feet.

 However the deafening sounds of thunder destroys any hopes of pretending to be elsewhere. So you curl tighter into a ball praying for it all to stop. Overwhelmed with fear you don’t process the feel of someone’s jacket draping over you or the angry voice of Jungkook saying, “I told you to go home.”

It’s not until he yet again scoops you into his arms that you snap from your trance. You watch shocked as he carries you to the car. Through the rain and lightning he looks nothing like the boy you remember. Instead...he looks like a man you could very well fall in love with. 

  “Jung...Jungkook” You mumble, gripping his shirt as he sets you down into the passenger seat. He looks up at you in a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Neither of you can remember the last time you called him by his first name. It’s always been Jeon never Jungkook. “Thank you....”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook replies, shutting the car door. He walks over to the driver’s side sliding easily into it.

 Now clear from the rain you can make out how drench he really is: hair soaked, clothes sticking to his skin, it makes you all too aware of the jacket covering you. Reluctantly you shrug it from your shoulders missing the comforting weight of it almost immediately. “Here. This is yours. You should wear it.”

Jungkook glares. “Keep it.

“No. It’s yours. You must be freezing without it-” 

   “I said keep it! God damn it, (Y/N). Why can’t you listen for once?” he snaps, hitting the steering wheel. You recoil taken back by his outburst. Never have you seen Jungkook so angry. At most Jungkook stormed off or glared whenever mad at you, never did he raise his voice at you. "I told you to go home. I told you it was going to storm but you didn’t listen."

    "I'm sorry…" 

     "You don't get it. You could've gotten sick if I didn't find you in time. Or worse you could have gotten hurt…"

   "Oh."  You reply, unsure what to say. Worrying about you wasn't something you expected from Jungkook, but it strikes a painful chord within you. Your heart should be warmed by the thought instead a painful sinking feeling fills it. Suddenly you want nothing more than to burst into tears. “You were worried?”

   Jungkook lets out a long tired sigh. "Of course I was worried. You’ve been terrified of thunder storms since we were five, why wouldn’t I worry about you being out in one?”

       ‘Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.’ Jimin’s words ring in your ears. ‘My point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?’

   Could Jimin be right? Is everything you thought  one big misunderstanding? You were so sure of Jungkook’s guilt previously, but now...you couldn’t picture him as the sinister bully you’ve known all your life.  “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened and turned around.” you admit, “I’m so used to chalkin everything you say off as meaningless teasing, I didn’t consider you actually meant well.”

    “You never do.” Jungkook huffs. For a second you swear you can see pain fill his dark bambi eyes as he looks at you. It is an expression you’ve never seen on his face before, a look of hurt and dejection. Again your heart twists painfully in your chest. “You always assume I’m out to get you, when really I’m just trying to be nice. I mean sure I tease and joke around with you, but (Y/N), I would never purposefully hurt you. I know you don’t believe me-”

   “Okay. I believe you.” 

Jungkook’s foot slips hitting the break. The car lurches forward causing you both to nearly hit your heads on the dashboard. His head snaps in your direction so fast it practically gives you whiplash. “What? What did you say?”

 Around you, cars honk aggravated by the standstill in the middle of traffic; you don’t care though. All you care about right now is the look of disbelief, shock, and hope marring Jungkook’s beautiful face. In that moment you realize how little you care about the truth. It’s unexplainable the sudden urge to move on from your prior hate, but you want to...you want to believe Jungkook is a good guy. “I believe you, Jungkook.” you swallow hard. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you. So please forgive me.”

   You don’t know what you expected Jungkook’s reaction to be, however it certainly wasn’t this. “I’ll think about it.”

  If not for the sudden smirk pulling at his lips, you would’ve felt horrible. Instead you feel infuriated. “You asshole. I take it back. I’m not sorry. You hear me?! Not sorry!”

  Jungkook merely laughs, shaking his head. “No backsies remember, (Y/N)? You can’t take it back.”

  You glower remembering the childish rule Jimin, Jungkook and you made up in elementary school. It was to keep each other from ducking out of any dares or promises made, and apparently apologies now. “I hate you.”

         Jungkook laughs harder. “I’m sure you do. Let’s go home, huh? I’ll make you hot chocolate if you behave.”

“I always behave.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. A second passes. “There better be whipped cream and marshmallows with that.”

     “Anything you want princess. Anything you want.” 

----------------------------------------------

You wonder if it’s creepy to find Jungkook so attractive while wearing your brother’s clothings. On Jimin, this grey sweatpants and hoodie combo makes him look like a homeless man, but on Jungkook, it has your mouth practically watering. The normally baggy material conforms perfectly to his body hiding nothing to the imagination. You see every curve, groove, muscle and bone (especially a certain large one in the middle of his sweats) in this boy’s body, and then to make things even worse you catch a sliver of tan skin anytime Jungkook raises his arms. Beautiful tan skin whose tantalizing taste and feel plagues your mind. 

    Suddenly you regret not putting up a fight about Jungkook coming over. Sure he was soaking wet from giving you his jacket, however Jungkook also lived down the street from you-he didn’t have to change into Jimin’s clothes. “Do you know if the dryer’s free?” Jungkook asks, lifting up said bundle of drenched clothes.

    “Ummm, yeah I believe so. You want me to put them up for you?” you offer, trying not to stare. Although things are technically supposed to be cool between you guys now, they’re not. Years of mistrust and hatred don’t simply vanish after an apology or sudden decision to forgive, instead the emotions built between you two need to be sorted through and really only time could do that. Which is why you try super hard not to let lust takeover and destroy the fragile truce recently made.

  Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, but I can manage."

You nod not knowing what else to say. Again his lips twist in that disgusting smirk you so despise, this time paired with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough for your ogling pleasure.”

 Quickly you look away, “Who’s ogling who, Jeon? Cause it’s certainly not me.”

   “Oh really?” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow. He steps forward caging you against the wall. Something dangerous gleams within those large eyes of his as Jungkook stares down at you with a ravenous look.  Shivers run down your spine sending a delicious shock through your body. “That’s too bad, because I was definitely ogling you, princess. Seeing you wear this oversized shirt gives me sooo many ideas.”

    You swallow hard, licking your suddenly dry lips. “Stop joking around. You and I know there’s nothing sexy about this shirt.”

    “I disagree. Believe it or not, I find girls sexiest when they’re comfortable with themselves. All that lace and lingerie is nice, but nothing is hotter than a girl wearing my shirt and nothing else.” Jungkook admits. “It brings out the territorial side in me.”

  Your brows crease. “That makes sense I guess, but this isn’t your shirt. It’s Jimin’s-”

     “Mine. I left it here one night after sleeping over Junior year. “ he explains. “You stole it from Jimin’s drawer thinking it was his.”

    “Oh….sorry. I’ll give it back.” Despair fills you at the thought. This is your favorite shirt regardless of it being a plain white t-shirt, it always makes you feel safe and comfy when wearing it as odd as it sounds. However you can’t afford to disrupt the newfound civialty between Jungkook and you.

      Jungkook snorts. “Keep it. Not like it will fit me anymore. Besides like I said, nothing turns me on more than a woman in my shirt. Why do you think I never asked for it back, princess?”

 He reaches out to toy with the hem of the shirt, his fingers drawing soft circles against your hip bone.   "Although I think I'd prefer you without it on, or rather anything on at all."

    "Jungkook…" you barely managed to get out as he lifts the material upwards. Cold air hits instantly pebbling your nipples despite the rush of warmth growing below. Instinctively you move to cover yourself only for Jungkook to grab your wrist. 

  "Please (Y/N). I've been dying to touch you since day one of your return." He begs, bringing your hand down. 

     "Okay." You whisper. 

"Okay. " he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. Those large hands clutch your shoulders as he presses further against you. All those curves and muscles you admired previously push up against your bare skin. Through the sweatpants you can feel how hard he is.

     A gasp escapes you as Jungkook's hands move towards your breasts caressing the underbelly of them. His fingers circle the outer edges of your nipples tracing them,  before finally moving to touch them.  He treats you like glass, a vast difference from your previous encounters and it's starting to annoy you . "I'm not made of glass you know?" You remind, stopping his hands. "You can be rough with me. "

      "Trust me, I know.  If memory serves correct you prefer it when I do something like this-" Jungkook snorts, grinding into you. The friction of his length against your clothed heat is exactly what you need. Moaning loudly you grip onto his arms trying to steady yourself. 

"That's it. Such a slut for friction. You honestly thought I'd forget how you made yourself cum on my thigh that night?" Jungkook smirks, fingers grazing along the edges of exposed skin. Goosebumps rise along wherever he touches and you squirm like underneath him. His smirk widens as he plays along the hem of your booty shorts. "I had to wash my jeans afterwards, they were so drenched from you. "

    "I didn't hear you complaining." You shoot back, pressing your hips against him in efforts to regain that delicious friction. "If I remember correctly you had fun flexing your leg underneath me."

     "Never said I didn't.  In fact I would very much like a repeat of that night." Jungkook grins, shifting so his thigh is between your legs.  The muscle in his leg flexes teasing your core; in a commanding tone he whispers, "Go crazy, princess. Ride me. Right here, right now, I promise I'll take care of ya. "

    That's all you need to hear to descend into madness. Almost instinctively you latch onto Jungkook digging your nails into his firm shoulders as you wantonly thrust against his leg. Moans escape your lips in wild abandon as his muscles rub against your clit at the perfect angle. Jungkook is right you are a whore for thigh riding. 

    Just when you think it can't get any better Jungkook's hand slips under your panties, fingers immediately finding that hard pearl between your legs. He brushes it softly causing you to hiss as your knees close in unwillingly to give up such feeling. Now this is more like it. 

    "You like that?"  He teases, forefinger circling your clit slowly.

    "Mmhmm…" you nodd, grinding harder in an attempt to pick up his pace. 

   "Words princess. Tell me exactly what you want. "

       "More. " you cry out. "Kook. More please. I need you. "

   Oddly the nickname spurs him on if the harsh whisper of, 'fuck' says anything. If not then certainly the desperate opened mouth pressed to your lips does. Silently you make a mental note to use the nickname again but it's momentarily lost as his fingers pick up speed.  This time it's you uttering curses as Jungkook brings you right to the edge of cumming.

    "Please, please, I'm so close."  You want him so badly it's ridiculous. The smirk widens on his face, Junkook decides to reward you by slipping two of his fingers into your core. "Fuck Kook!"

   "That's it, princess. Come for me. Show me how good you feel." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you. All words leave you as a haze of ecstacy falls over you, all you can is moan rocking deliberately against his hand.  With every thrust his fingers somehow hit that special spot inside you. 

     Jungkook's an expert at knowing all your spots and kinks, almost as if he memorized everything about you, last time he and you were together. Either way impressed doesn't even begin to describe how you feel about his abilities. You moan his name, holding onto to him tightly as you orgasm onto his thigh. It lasts longer than expected small waves of pleasure still coming despite the relaxed posture of your body resting on his. 

        Gently Jungkook strokes your hair in a  manner similar to what lovers do after such an event. Alarm bells ring out at the action, but you make no move to stop him. "Was that a good enough reenactment for you?" You mention, half teasing. 

    Jungkook grins. "Better than good. You got me so hard, princess, I don't know how I can last."

   This time it's you who smirks. Sliding off of his thigh, you get on your knees anxious for the next act. "Well then, I better make what little time you do have as great as possible. "

    Before Jungkook can say a word you reach under the waistband of his sweats gripping his length tenderly in your hand. The groan uttered from Jungkook's lips at the slightest touch of your hand ignites another fire within you. Smirk widening you pull out your prize, taking a second to admire the gorgeous cock. Despite having seen it before you can never quite get its length or the beautiful curve of it. 

     Running a finger along the thick veins you see a bit of pre-cum at its tip. "You weren't joking when you said that last act turned you on." You tease, swiping over his head with your thumb.

     Staring into his eyes, you put your thumb into your mouth sucking off the cum.  The salty taste makes your mouth water, with an exaggerated pop take your thumb out. "Fuck, (Y/N). Don't tease, I'll go insane if you do." Jungkook pleads.

    "So needy." You say, taking him into your mouth. Thankfully your last boyfriend was somewhat of a blow job junkie, and while Jungkook is twice as large as he was, you have no problem taking his length into your mouth. The tip touches the back of your throat, instinctively you hollow your cheeks sucking in a slow teasing manner. 

   You  swirl your tongue about his base enjoying the beautiful noises Jungkook made under your tongue. Soon a hand buries itself into your hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to control the pace. Normally you wouldn't allow such behavior preferring your lover to suffer under you, however there's something about Jungkook's desperation to get off using your mouth that sends heat pooling to your core. It doesn't take long until he's spilling into your mouth, hands pulling on your hair he thrusts his hips forward pushing himself further into your mouth.  

  “Shit, princess. That was great. Almost as good as cumming inside you." Jungkook sighs running a hand through his messy hair. 

    You smile wiping the corners of your mouth clean. "Unfortunately you're going to have to miss out. Jimin will be home soon."

  Again his hands make their way to your hips, already you can tell he's angling for another kiss. "We'll have to be quick then. "

       Jungkook leans forward, but this time you pull away. "The last thing Jimin needs is to walk in on us….besides we need to wash these sweats before he gets home. "

     His lips curl into a smile practically relishing in your embarrassment, "Fair enough princess, but don't think we are done yet. I plan on making your toes curl as much as possible until the plane ride home. "

  You cock an eyebrow. “Those are big words coming from a man who just begged me to cum. What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

      “Easy, because you like it as much as I do.” Jungkook replies, grinding himself once more against you. A sharp hiss escapes you; almost uncontrollably you push back desperate for that sweet friction, however Jungkook moves away denying any sensation. “ Nuh uh, Jimin’s going to be home soon. Wouldn’t want him catching us, now would we (Y/N)? You’ll  have to wait until next.”

    “You, son of a bitch!” You snap, glaring daggers at his retreating form. As much as you hate to admit it, something tells you this newfound friendship with Jungkook is going to be more than you bargained for.

    --------

Despite what your parents may think, your summer vacation home isn’t an excuse to be lazy. While it is true that Korea’s summer vacations are shorter than American's, as a teacher you still have plenty of work left to do during the student’s time off. One such thing happens to be reading over the posts written by your honor’s literature course throughout the break. Normally you graded them at night when everyone was asleep, but as your class delves deeper into the context of Frankenstein, you find yourself unable to keep your nightly routine with the density of the topic. Hence why you now sit in a cafe  hunched over your laptop rereading Joni’s obviously copyrighted post. 

    “You look lost in thought.” A cheery voice teases.

   For a second your brain tricks into thinking it’s Jungkook talking, after all he’s been bothering you extra since the two of you made the transition from enemies to fuck buddies. So it wouldn’t be unusual if the dark haired boy stalked you to the cafe to annoy you. However when you look up it’s not tattooed arms or a dopey bunny looking face you see, instead a pair of smiling almond shaped eyes stare down at you, their owner a very familiar reddish brunette. 

    “Hoseok!” you cry, leaping up only to hit your knee on the table. It throbs causing a sharp expletive to escape your lips. Embarrass you try to shake it off as if it never happened. Last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him. “Hi, I didn’t see you there.”

   “I can tell.” he laughs gesturing towards your knee. “I didn’t mean to startle you, (Y/N). It’s just been ages since I last saw you.”

   Your heart skips a beat. Nervously you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears in attempts to play cool. Logically you know you have no reason to get nervous, especially not when Hoseok ditched you at a restaurant after getting told you were a slut by Jungkook. Yet, for whatever reason that small high school girl who idolized him still remains inside you.

    “Almost six years. “ You smile. “Time has sure flown by hasn’t it?”

“Maybe but you haven’t changed much.” Hoseok winks, causing your brows to furrow. Haven’t changed much? What was he talking about? Did he not see your clear evolution from loner geek into potential adult? “You’re still as pretty as you were back in high school.”

   This time you are pretty sure your heart stops. It takes everything in your power not to gap like a wide-mouth fish out of water. Time seems to slow down in the small coffee shop as you work to come up with a response. Suddenly all the previous noises of chatter, whistling kettles and clanking plates become overwhelming rather than peaceful. Unfortunately even after being in a committed relationship for two years, your flirtation skills are still rusty. “You obviously need glasses then, because I looked like a hobo back then.”

      You can slap yourself. Literally-actually slap yourself for that stupid ass comment. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind only laughing even harder than before. “Nah, you were the prettiest girl on campus. Everyone was just afraid of you, because Jimin and Jungkook always hung around you-speaking of which, I want to apologize for how I acted back then. I shouldn’t have ditched you over such a stupid thing like that.”

    “Oh, it’s fine. Water under the bridge trust me.” you lie, ignoring the pang in your chest. Just remembering that day brings a new fire of hostility towards Jungkook. No matter how many years pass you still remember the day clearly. You were waiting for Hoseok at a local dinner, anxiously checking your phone for any messages or calls. A full hour passed with you insisting multiple times to the kind waitress that your date was arriving soon, however Hoseok never showed up. 

     You tried contacting him, worried that something terrible happened only to never get a response. Once home, you even bug Jimin who was friends with Hoseok then about the cheery boy, only to be brushed off. It’s not until you went to school the next day and confronted Hoseok in the hallway that you found out the truth. Jungkook let it loose that you were a slut and Hoseok being the knight in shining armor he was, fought him. They were equally matched with both of them garnering bruises and bumps because of it, but ultimately they were tied. 

“Look (Y/N), you seem like a nice girl, ” Hoseok said, brushing you off. “And what Jungkook said about you being a slut probably isn’t true, but I really can’t handle all this drama between you two.”

  That day your heart broke in two as dramatic as it sounds. Moreover from that moment you vowed to hate Jeon Jungkook for the rest of your life. “No, it’s really not and I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I would like another chance to get to know you.” Hoseok asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

   "Okay. " the word slips through your lips before you even have a chance to think it over. 

     His face lights up and any doubt you once had shatters completely. People change, Jungkook did so maybe Hoseok matured too. Either way it wouldn't hurt to try again. "Great. It'll be fun, I promise. "

     "I'm going to hold you to that Hoseok. " you tease. Inside you the giddiness grows, it feels as if you walked into some sort of dream or something. Didn't every girl dream of her high school crush finally realizing what a catch she is?

   "You won't regret it."  Hoseok swears. "Anyway I should let you get back to work, but first can I get your number?"

   You rattle it off to him, doing your best to appear stoic, unfortunately the aching in your smiling cheeks suggests utter failure.  Afterwards your students' work feels like less frustrating or maybe you're feeling a little generous seeing how Trisha totally bullshited her review yet you still gave a ⅘ on it. Whatever the reason you finish up faster than expected, leaving the cafe with an extra hour of free time.  "Well if it isn't a princess set free from her tower!" Someone whistles. 

  Unlike earlier you have no issue distinguishing the playful voice of Jungkook. Turning towards the noise, you unsurprisingly find him propped up against his car in a cool uncaring fashion. His work clothes only help amplify the appearance; the black suit jacket paired perfectly with his white dress shirt and pants ensemble make him look like a Chaebol rather than plain Jungkook. All in all he looks absolutely mouth watering, but you'd die before ever admitting it. "If it isn't the ogre coming out of his swamp to play. " you tease, pinching his arm. 

  He chuckles, opening the passenger's door of his black Lexus. "I think you forget the ogre got his princess in the end. "

   You wrinkle your nose in faux disgust. "Good luck, finding one. I don't know how many people can put up with your ugly mug. "

  "Don't need to. I already captured you. " Jungkook replies, closing the car door. 

    You blink registering what he said.  "That's the cheesiest line I've ever heard."

 He shrugs slipping on a pair of faux Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses. Paired with the rest of his outfit, the glasses shattered the image of the rich Chaebol man. Their paint chipped arms and scratched off logo scream 'fake' and you wonder why Jungkook kept such hideous knock offs. "You should get rid of those. They make you look cheap. "

    Jungkook scrunches his nose. "No way, they were a gift. "

   "A gift purposefully bought from some shady street vendor, because my mother insisted I buy you a college graduation gift." You say, reaching out to grab them.

     Naturally Jungkook only needs to lean away to thwart your efforts. "So? I like them. "

    "You look like one of those wannabe entrepreneurs on Instagram. "

   "How dare you! I have over five hundred followers, I'm legendary!"

     "Did Jimin make five hundred accounts? Because he's the only who would follow your ass!"  You say, attempting one more shot at retrieving those vile glasses. 

     Once more Jungkook merely tilts his head blocking your stubby little arms from reaching. "Whatever you say princess, we both know you're the one following my ass around here. "

  "I'm following you? How laughable. I didn't know you were a comedian, Jungkook…" the two of you continue bantering the rest of the car ride home.

--------------

Author’s note: Special thanks to @dreamsfromthesandman​ for editing and putting up with my craziness even if she’s not army.

#bts #BTS jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #sunny writes #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut

[sapphicmsmarvel]

EP: Siren Queen

masterlist

Premise: Y/N L/N is a part of the world's biggest girl group. A stalker starts harassing her and her band mates so their label calls in the BAU. 

The case was weird for the BAU. It was a stalker case for a famous girl, Y/N L/N, she was part of the worlds most successful girl group. Garcia was all too excited to be involved in the case. Of course, she hated that you were being stalked but she was a huge fan. 

“You better tell me everything!” She squealed, “If she’s nice, if she’s as hot as she is on camera, if the other girls are nice, if they are ‘just like us’ please!” 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were the stalker, Garcia.” JJ joked.

“If someone hurts that ray of sunshine I will stalk them!” She shouted through the video call and then hung up. 

JJ flipped through the file, “we have five days to catch this guy before they go on tour. And the girls are refusing to cancel.” “Even if their lives are at stake?” 

“They said that they will not cancel because it’s the opening to their world tour and they won’t risk disappointing fans because they know people are flying in from all over the country.” Prentiss explained. 

“Shouldn’t the label put the girls first?” Morgan asked. 

“Usually labels tend not to care about artists.” Reid said, “the amount of label abuse that’s been coming to light is horrific you guys should read up on it.” 

He looked up as everyone looked at him confused, he explained, “Simon Cowell for example, there are claims against him because of abuse towards clients. Overworking them, homophobic comments, racist comments, sexist comments you name it.”

“What groups?” JJ asked. 

“Little Mix and One Direction are the two most prominent ones.” Reid said flicking through the file. 

“How do you know all this?” “Garcia.” He answered. “Then I did my own research because I was fascinated by the music industry. It never hurts to learn even if I don’t know anything about it.” 

The team left it at that, and continued digging through the evidence of your stalker. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The team was currently sitting in one of the rehearsal rooms. There were couches, a snack bar, a coffee stand, everything except the girls they were meeting. 

Their publicist Ramona looked at them all apologetically, “I’m so sorry, the girls seem to be in traffic. They’re with trusted drivers and security guards.” 

“Have they been background checked?” Hotch asked. 

Ramona nodded, “we all were when we were taken on, we were when this stalker showed up as well. The dancers, the crew, everybody those girls come into contact with are background checked.” 

“Even interviewers?” Reid asked. Ramona nodded, “without their knowledge, just like you advised. If this got leaked…” Ramona shook her head, “we all know what happens to victims of stalkers, it isn’t foreign in this business.” 

At that moment the girls all came in, Emily recognized them from the files. Apparently, even your bandmates got checked. Zoey came in first, snuggled in her hoodie, her jeans were rumpled and her heels were clacking. Her smile falling off her face the second she walked into the room. Her blonde hair was tousled as if she was running her hands through it a lot. Her green eyes were tired.

Leaning on her was Brooke, who was also looking exhausted. Ramona told them that they had been up since 4 am doing press, it was now 4pm. They had a two hour rehearsal next, then dinner, then vocal rehearsal, then they could go to their hotel. Apparently it was an easy day for them. Brooke's black hair was in it’s natural curls, she wore heels as well as a dress. 

The two were holding hands. 

Then came in Liz, she was wearing a black long sleeve shirt, shorts and a beanie as well as heeled boots. She didn’t look as tired, she looked fiercely protective as she was holding your hand. 

You looked anxious, you were also in a hoodie, jeans and heeled boots, all black. Your eyes were darting around the room as you took in everyone around you. Your eyes startled when they landed on Emily, Emily wasn’t sure why. 

Ramona introduced all of them to the girls then said “Sit down girls.” 

Three of them did, you had other ideas and went and got coffee. “Y/N, that’s your fourth cup.” 

You held up a finger, “I don’t want to hear it, Ramona. I have a stalker out there and I have to act like everythings normal, if Marcus has a problem with it, he can suck my dick.” 

Morgan looked at Emily with wide eyes. Emily shrugged. Then looked at Reid, “who’s Marcus?”  She asked him. 

“Their choreographer.” “Why does it matter what he says?” 

“Because he cares about us and is a fitness nut.” You answered, “you’re not very good at whispering.” You deadpanned, sipping your coffee. 

“Y/N!” Ramona scolded. 

You rolled your eyes, and Zoey spoke up, “give her a break Ramona. She never gives you issues, let her live.” 

“It’s okay,” Emily spoke up, “I understand what it’s like to be afraid of looking over your shoulder.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact. You felt guilty for snapping, that much she could tell. 

“Okay, let’s get started.” Hotch said, “do you have any particular fans you’d like to tell us about, people have stood out?” 

“We have a lot of...dedicated fans.” Zoey said, to put it gently. “Some good, some bad, some that are really intense.” 

You scoffed from where you were standing, “that's putting it lightly.” You grabbed a mini chocolate chip cookie.. 

“Do girl groups have groupies?” Morgan asked. 

“Of course we do,” Liz said, her tan cheeks gaining a rosy color. You sat in between her and Zoey, Brooke was next to Zoey. You had three other cookies in your hand and handed them to the others. 

“We recognize the line between fans and stalkers as well as people who don't agree with who we are. But there’s been nothing like this.”  Brooke shuddered.

“Don’t agree with who you are?” JJ asked. 

You held up a hand, “queer.” 

Brooke raised her hand, “black.” 

Liz raised hers, “philipino and black. So mixed race.” 

Then Zoey raised hers as well, “I’m ‘too skinny’ so everyone thinks I have an eating disorder.” 

You piped up, “I’ve also been fat shamed by the worlds biggest media outlets, it’s nothing new to find hate online.” 

Emily grimaced and she knew her team was doing the exact same thing. 

“Do you have any ideas as to who it could be?” Rossi asked.

“There’s one,” Zoey said, “but Y/N insists it can’t be him.” 

“You need to tell us.” Emily said, everyone looked at you. 

You sighed, “he went to jail when we were teens for sexual misconduct. I was the first person he assaulted and harassed consistently. But I didn’t press charges.” “Why not?” Morgan asked. 

“Because I was a fourteen year old girl who didn’t recognize that it was sexual assault.” You snapped, then sighed, “I’m sorry Agent Morgan. It’s touchy.” Zoey took your hand, Liz took your other one, Brooke reached over and put her hand on top of Zoeys. “To be honest, I don’t know where I would be without these three.” You admitted. Emily admired it, the sisterhood between you four. 

“How long have you guys been friends?” JJ asked. 

“We met in high school, then formed the band.” Brooke answered. 

 “Do you know if he’s out?” 

You sighed, “he is. But he lacks the brain cells to pull this stuff off.”

“It’s not that hard to mail letters.” JJ said. 

“Yeah but, he shouldn’t know the exact times we show up at venues, interviews, he isn’t smart enough to think of how to obtain that information. As kids he was not smart, at all.” You said, letting go of your friends’ hands and you started rubbing your hands on your jeans. 

Emily noticed how all of them kept their hands on you, as a way of comfort. 

“Unless he was following the bus,” Zoey said.

“He’s too lazy.” You said, “never had energy for thorough shit.” 

“What’s his name? We’re gonna send it to our technical analyst.” Morgan said. 

You nodded and spoke the name you’ve feared for far too long. “Peter Brady, he was born in my home state

“Okay,” Hotch started, “I want all of you to be shadowing the girls, they are not to be left alone, we don’t know how organized this guy is and what he knows.” He looked at Rossi, “we’ll contact Garcia and run through possible people. Do you have anywhere to set up?” 

Ramona began directing them to rooms, then told all of you to get changed and do rehearsals for the tour. 

JJ and Reid sat in during the rehearsals, meanwhile Emily and Morgan helped Hotch and Rossi with going through all the names that Garcia flagged as potentially dangerous. 

Two hours later, Emily was eating dinner, she was planning to eat alone, but then she found you. You were sitting on the floor backstage, by a bunch of wires and such eating your pizza. You were alone. 

“Hey,” Emily said.

“Hi, did Ramona send you because I’m alone?” You asked, smiling slightly. 

“No,” Emily said sitting next to you, “I can recognize when someone needs someone to talk to. Where are your friends?”

“They’re talking to their partners, I insisted they do. They haven’t been the past couple of nights because of all this. Part of being….’famous’ is that you have to leave your loved ones for long periods of time.” “My field is the same way. I don’t see my mom more than twice a year.” 

You shuddered, “I can barely handle not seeing my mom as much as I used to before ‘fame’. I can’t imagine it in your shoes.” You sighed. 

Emily popped open her salad box, “do you mind if I eat with you?” She smiled.

And she smiled wider when you smiled back, “feel free. By the way, I’m sorry about snapping at you. It’s been rough.” 

“I know how you feel.” Emily would tell you about Doyle if it helped you open up more about this guy.

“Have you been stalked?” 

Emily nodded, “by an abusive ex.” Was all she said. 

You grimaced, “so we’ve gone through similar things.” “Was this guy an ex?” You shook your head, “we were thirteen and fourteen, as kids navigating those feelings can be hard. I’d say we were close to dating then he...he pushed too far. I wasn’t raped, but he touched me inappropriately, then harassed me over text. Then continued for three years, he’s been silent ever since and now all of a sudden 12 years later he’s back.” You laughed bitterly, “and I have no doubts he’s done things to other women. Do you think because I didn’t report, it’s my fault that this is happening? And he’s most likely doing this to other women?” You asked her.

Emily shook her head, “It’s not your fault Y/N, it never will be. He’s a sick creep, and we’re gonna get him.” She assured you. “Can we talk about something else?” You asked. 

“Sure.” Emily smiled.

You felt your heart stutter. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next few days, you and Emily had fallen into a routine. 

You ate all your meals together. Breakfast at 6am in the hotel lobby, lunch in the dance rehearsal room, dinner in the backstage area. 

Of course, your friends teased you relentlessly. And her team teased her relentlessly. 

But you two didn’t care, you found solitude in each other's company, considering both of your worlds were hectic and crazy. 

You two were eating chicken tenders for lunch before vocal and dance rehearsal in the dance room when Marcus walked in, “hey, some fanmail was left for you.” He handed you a blue box. 

“I’m surprised you can bring it to me.” You said grabbing it. 

“It went through security first.”

That was a good sign, you opened it and saw a diamond necklace, “holy shit.” You murmured, it was stunning and sparkly. 

Emily thought it described you personally. 

You took it out of the box and set the box on the ground. Emily saw a tag in the box. She grabbed it. She pulled it and it revealed a bigger note. She picked it up and read it. 

“Y/N….” Emily started. 

“What?” You asked, scared. 

Emily cleared her throat, “for you my love, it matches your smile. Remember that night under the stars at that restaurant our parents took us to as kids? It’s one of my fondest memories.” You dropped the necklace as if it had burned you. 

It had. 

It clattered against the floor, you shot off the ground. “Get it away from me! Get the box away from me! Get it all away!” You started crying. “No, no, no, no.” 

“Go get my team, now!” She ordered Marcus who ran off with his concern and protectiveness in his eyes. 

She approached you, “can I touch you?” She asked. 

You fell into her arms, “he found me. He actually fucking found a way to torment me. After all these years, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. Please don’t let him get me.” You sobbed into her arms. 

She looked at the diamonds on the ground, the sparkling contrasted against the dull gray floor, she stroked your hair as she said, “I won’t, he will never touch you again.” 

And she would die to ensure that that promise was kept. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later, you were in vocal rehearsals. You had to do questioning as well as calm down from your panic attack. 

You would only allow Emily near you. 

You two walked side by side to vocal rehearsals, the girls immediately rushed to hug you. Emily stepped back as the three of them hugged you. It was a huge group hug. 

“Oh sweetheart.” Brooke said and kissed your head. “Baby, we tried to get in there but they wouldn’t let us.” Zoey said, “I almost kicked that damn door down but Ramona pulled me away.” 

“We got you, that bastard isn’t going anywhere near you,” Liz declared. 

Emily heard a sniffle from you, and the girls all “aww’d.” 

“Babyyy.” Liz cooed as they all held you tighter. 

After about three minutes of you trying to calm down, you four separated, all of you were wiping your eyes. “God, we really do feed off each other huh?” You tried to lighten the mood. They all smiled, trying to keep the light mood going. 

They all said hi to Emily, then headed towards a couch. You four then sat down and began singing.

Okay, she had heard your records, after all your band was one of the biggest bands in the world, the biggest girl group. 

But God, she did not expect you to not have an auto-tuned voice. None of you do. All four of you have amazing voices but yours…

It was rich like dark chocolate, she wanted to hear you sing all. the. time. It was like a siren, captivating and lustful. You were calm while singing, nobody would know that your stalker had just dropped off a box with diamonds in it two hours ago. 

Then to make you laugh Zoey broke out with an off key note and made you burst out laughing. 

That laugh warmed Emily, she realized how much she loved your company and what she would do to make you laugh like that at her. 

Oh God, she was falling for you. And she was falling hard.

Shit.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours before the show was supposed to go on, they caught him. 

He was staking out before the show, Garcia had his picture sent to all the guards and they found him. 

Everyone else went to question him, while Emily stayed with you. It was a few minutes before showtime, makeup artists and hair stylists were doing final touches. As well as the stylists. 

“Twitters blowing up.” Ramona said from her chair.

“About?” You asked, jumping to shake the nerves.

“The guy who got arrested in front of the venue.” 

You looked at Emily, “dear god.” 

“JJ will handle it.” She assured you all.

“Good.” Zoey said. 

You nodded to a corner at Emily, she nodded and followed you over. “I just wanna say, thank you for helping me and spending time with me. I know it’s your job but,” you sighed, “if you’d allow me, I’d like to take you out on a date when we have a show in DC. We’re staying for a couple days doing press and I’d like to go out on a date with you, if you’d like?” Emily smiled and blushed hard, “I would be honored, Y/N.” 

The smile you had could light up the night sky, “thank you, Emily. You won’t regret it.” 

“Ramona called, “Y/N! Show time!” 

“One sec!” Then shoved a piece of paper into her hand, “I hope to hear from you.” Then you kissed her cheek and ran off to stage. 

She opened the piece of paper, “to my hero, I hope to hear from you.” Then underneath was your number. 

She sighed happily, then went to find her seat in the stadium so she could watch her siren queen perform.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #jj criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #Paget Brewster #paget brewster x reader #Jennifer Jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #david rossi #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (7)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,2K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Updates: I’ll update it once a week [Tuesdays] because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

                                                  /////

  You pressed your finger firmly against the doorbell button.

   You couldn’t help but bounce your leg anxiously, chewing the tender skin from your inside cheeks, lowering your head as you expected Hyunjin to open the door. You couldn’t say last night ended well for both of you. Actually, you could say quite the opposite of it. The night ended with him wanting to drop you out of the car and not speaking a word to you. Not even a goodbye when he dropped Paris on her bed.

  Not even a glance.

  Now, you were standing right in front of his door, waiting for him to open the door and begin the most awkward meeting you would have in your whole life. You were supposed to get along and make a great essay, understanding each other and Paris… You couldn’t be farther from this. Deep in your heart, you knew that there was just one way to end this meeting today: One of you would be seeing a doctor.

 And you didn’t mean a real psychologist.

  You never thought you would feel relief wash over you by seeing an angry shirtless Chan opening the door abruptly, brows furrowed as he leaned on the doorframe, hand grabbing your wrist and pulling it from the doorbell.

   But there you were.

   Thank God.

   You still had a few minutes before facing Hyunjin right now.

   “Okay, you need to stop pressing this damn button every time you come here or I’ll get rid of your fingers” He threatened, letting go of your hand and stepping aside so you could come in “And both of us know that you need your fingers” He mocked, making you roll your eyes and your head, utterly done with him.

   “Incredibly funny as always” You grimaced “Are you this needy to have a finger up in your as—?“ Before you could finish your sentence, Hyunjin made his presence known, clearing his throat as he watched both of you with disgust plastered on his face, arms crossed as he leaned on the wall.

  “Could you guys spare me from watching your mating antics?” He sneered “We should be discussing Paris’s problems not flirting semi-naked on the hall” You scoffed, looking at Chan to check if it was just you or Hyunjin really lost half of his brain at some point in his life. Where the hell were you flirting with Chan? You would never flirt with Chan in your life.

   “That’s disgusting” Chan voiced first, twisting his face in disgust as he looked at you, probably picturing a scenario where both of you would try to get on each other’s pants “Also, I’m kinda offended you think I would try to mate like this, I can do way better” He looked back at Hyunjin, who laughed at this, nodding like he didn’t believe in him.

  “Whatever! let’s just get started with this” He shrugged, looking at you warily. You could feel the tension between you two, eyes meeting and averting a couple of times before you cleared your throat, not moving an inch. He looked away, seeming interested in analyzing something in the kitchen as if he never saw it before, even though there was nothing new.

   Chan closed the door, narrowing and darting his eyes from you to him, suspicious.

   “Should I ask why it looks like you guys fucked last night and regretted it this morning?” You frowned, looking at him questioningly, palms up and a shaking head that silently asked what the hell as you met his eyes “Are you going to say that this is normal?” He asked incredulously, gesturing at both of you with his palms up, an accusing stare in your way.

  “It’s the same as always, Chan, She was being an ass to me” Hyunjin grimaced looking in your way. You could almost touch the contempt in his face… Actually, you should just do it… Wipe it off his face with your own hands… Smack it off of him.

  No, you were better than that.

  “I’m being an ass?” You scoffed “You were the one who kept being rude! You know far too well that I’m trying to be friendly to you!” You accused, and Chan looked surprised, brows shooting up as he looked at you in wonder.

  “You’re trying to be friendly to him? Why?” His tone was so amazed that you almost felt offended for a moment, and it must have shown in your face because he promptly tried to explain himself “No! I mean—… Actually, that’s exactly what I meant, sorry” He smiled sheepishly, making you snort.

  “You know what? I don’t know” You admitted, looking at Hyunjin in utter disappointment, “I thought I should bond with him since we’re working together… Paris seemed so sure he was a good person too… But I guess some things never change“ You scoffed, averting your eyes and shaking your head frustrated.

  Actually, some things do change.

  Now you could tell it wasn’t about projecting anymore.

  It was him.

  You just didn’t like him.

  “Oh? Like what?” He smiled obnoxiously, clasping his hands as he looked at you “Enlighten me” He challenged, approaching you, tilting his head and grimacing “Oh, our greatest source of information, the only one human being that can hold all the knowledge in the world! Never once wrong! Please, voice your thoughts for us mere mortals!” His voice dripped with sarcasm, eyes mocking you as he crossed his arms and stood right in front of you, straightening his back so he could look taller.

  “I don’t think that’s how you should discuss your essay” Chan pointed out, looking at the both of you, concerned “Maybe we should sit down and drink some water? Take a break? Try to –“ He couldn’t finish his sentence, though, because you interrupted him, ignoring him completely as you faced Hyunjin, your own back straightening so you could look more like a threat.

  “No, no! He’s right, Chan!” You laughed humorlessly, clasping your own hands, mimicking him, eyes fixed and burying into his on a silent war for Power going under your gazes “Maybe we can even write it on the essay! How we perceive each other, hm? What do you think, Hyunjin?” You gave him a tight smile, face twisting in discontent.

  “I think it’s a great idea” He agreed, returning your smile “Maybe I should write about how you’re an insufferable bitch? Someone that has to have the last word and think she’s so much better than everyone around her! What do you think? Does it ring a bell?” You scoffed, offended, looking away from him for a split of a second, and poking your cheek with your tongue.

  “Sounds good to me” You agreed, looking back at him “Maybe I should write how you’re a fuckboy that can’t bond with a damn human being? An attention whore that is too afraid to admit that he doesn’t have a damn friend because he doesn’t –“ You choked, the sudden impact on your back strangled your sentence, your eyes widened as you looked at his.

  You didn’t even register what happened.

   At one moment you were standing there, arguing with Hyunjin, prepared to slap him with each word that came out of your mouth, and at the next one, you felt his body ramming into yours, interrupting you. You blinked, startled, missing how you got so fast to the wall ─ the cold surface against your back and the sudden impact made you jolt your body, mind totally fogged ─, suddenly feeling his body pressing yours, cornering you there.

   “So I have a problem with bonding?” He sneered, face so close to yours that you couldn’t really focus at first, and you didn’t even have the chance as he approached his face to your ear, his black hair in front of your eyes “Do you know the best way to bond with someone? Sex” He whispered against your ear, his tone breathy and smug “I’m just a fuckboy, right? That’s all I can offer you… I guess you need it… You seem so tense up” His lips brushed against your earlobe, and the shock replaced itself with anger.

  “I’ll give you five seconds” You warned, clenching your fists beside your body and scrunching your nose, trying to control yourself, closing your eyes as you breathed deeply, fuming.

  One.

  “Hyunjin, let her go” You heard Chan say so you opened your eyes, noticing his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder “You’re crossing the line here” He continued.

  Two.

  “I think I’ll need more than five seconds to fuck you unless you’re that needy” He scorned, adjusting his forearms on the wall, on each side of your head, stopping you from looking away from him, obliging you to look deep into his eyes.

  Three.

  “That’s enough, Hyunjin” Chan hissed, and although you couldn’t look at him right now, you could sense how strict he must be looking, hands tightening his grip on Hyunjin, voice stern and warning.

  Four.

  “Oh, cat got your tongue?” He grinned smugly; his dark eyes seemed to try to null you, feeling powerful enough to lock with yours. Neither of you blinked, eyes fixed on each other. While his held smugness and some kind of victorious feeling, yours oozed with rage and contempt “I think I like you better like this… Silent” He sneered again, and that was it.

  Five.

  “I said that’s enough!” Chan fumed, tugging Hyunjin away from you before he pressed his forearm against his chest and pressed his hand against yours so you would stay still “Both of you!” He glared at you two, and you gulped down, startled by his outburst “What the actual fuck is happening here?! Do you guys think it’s fine to be fucking assholes like this?!” You knew Chan for about 5 years now and you never once saw him this angry.

  It made you shiver under the intensity of his gaze.

  He pointed to the couch, glaring at both of you, a silent order that neither of you took.

  “Sit on the damn couch” He demanded, his eyes didn’t let much to question so both of you complied, silently making your way to the couch, shoulders shrunk like you were being scolded by your parents “Neither of you is going anywhere until you sort things out” He decided, sitting across you, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees.

  “Look, we have to finish the essay and –“ He scoffed, interrupting you.

   “I don’t give a shit about your essay” Hyunjin chuckled, looking at you satisfied at how Chan answered you, a smirk adorning his lips “What is it, Hyunjin? Voice your thoughts” Chan said playfully, although it was visible he wasn’t playing around “Both of you will talk everything through and I’ll be here to guarantee it” He stated, going silent and staring at you both.

  “And you’ll do it shirtless” Hyunjin joked, clearly trying to change the subject but Chan didn’t seem to find it amusing nor he was willing to give in, so he tilted his head as he looked expressionless to his friend.

  “Is it bothering you? Do you want to fuck me too?” He asked, voice steady like he was bored and fed up with both of you, which he was, to be fair, “You know it doesn’t work on me, Hyunjin” Chan rolled his eyes “Look, you’re guys are my best friends… I don’t want to watch you guys fighting each other, okay? When you just teased around was one thing but this…?” He gestured to the both of you, eyes softening “I can’t let you guys keep going like this… You have to talk it through” He sighed, hand going to rest on his face, tired to even think how this would go.

  “Well, Miss Last-Words can begin since she likes to talk back so much” Hyunjin sneered, crossing his arms and looking away, like a child. You scoffed, mirroring him by crossing your arms and looking the other way, just as childish as him. Chan sighed but didn’t say anything, waiting for one of you to take the first step. When the silence was long enough to make it clear that neither of you was going to say anything, he spoke up again.

  “You guys are going to talk this through” He declared “If you don’t take the first step, I will” He threatened and both of you looked at him immediately, mouth agape by the betrayal “Don’t look at me like this! Do you want to be treated like a child? I’ll treat both of you as a child! You’re grounded until you guys sort this out” His voice and eyes didn’t give any space for questions, so you stood silent, wondering if you should say something.

  You glanced over Hyunjin, unsure, and he did the same, biting his lips.

  “Nothing? Okay” Chan scoffed, disappointed “The woman from that day was her mother, Hyunjin” He stated, looking at you in a silent challenge. You couldn’t believe he just did this! All those years of friendship for Chan betray you like this? You frowned, averting your eyes, expression too stiff and angry for Hyunjin even think to mock you about it. He looked at you in a contemplative way, chewing his own cheek.  

  He didn’t know what to say.

  Well, of course, he didn’t know what to say. What would you say if your friend exposed his friend out of nowhere? Especially since he knew it must have been an awkward situation as you cried about it later. You stayed silent, eyes still locked with the window, too uncomfortable to look at any of them.

  “Still nothing?” Chan insisted, looking at Hyunjin this time, as you could see by his reflection on the glass “Hyunjin has some mom issues to deal with” He stated, and this time Hyunjin lowered his head, embarrassed by this. You felt bad for him for a moment. He didn’t know you already knew about this one.

  “So what?” You scoffed “It’s not that weird” You muttered.

  You weren’t really standing up for him but it did sound like this… Maybe that was why he shot a look at you, surprised with your behavior, eyes somehow grateful to your words. You glanced at him, and once your eyes met you averted them again, fixing your gaze on Chan, feeling just as embarrassed as him.

  “Hm… I’m sorry” his voice was so soft you almost didn’t catch it. You perked your ears, realizing he must have said something because Chan seemed as surprised as you “I mean… I know I was being a jerk yesterday, I didn’t really intend to set you off like that…” He admitted, looking in your eyes. You never saw him so sincere in your life. You bit your lips, averting your eyes for a split of a second before reconnecting them with him, suddenly determined to give something back, to apologize about your behavior.

  “No, I’m the one who should be saying it” You muttered back to him “I’m sorry” You meant it, eyes sincere as you stared at him “I knew I hit a nerve when I talked about your friendship with Chan and I didn’t stop until you snapped… It’s my fault” You sighed.

 “Wait, what?” Chan seemed surprised, looking to Hyunjin in understanding “I see… I thought it was strange you pressed her like this” He hummed as if everything was clearer, tapping his chin as he thought about what to say “But why did you snap, Y/N? It’s not like you to be like this” You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

  What was the point of hiding things now?

  “It’s… Well, I thought that if I was friendly to him he would treat me normally… I guess I was frustrated because he didn’t and I felt like I was trying all by myself” You admitted, shrugging “But he was right… I was the one who started it all” You sighed, looking at Hyunjin, eyes wavering around, too ashamed to make contact “I can’t expect him to be friendly with me after all these years of… Well, this” You pointed between you two, chuckling “I had a weak reason to dislike him before, maybe he just has a better one”

  “Hm…” Hyunjin looked at you, weighting something on his mind “It’s not that I have a reason to dislike you… Yesterday my mother called me and it frustrated me a lot” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward “I guess I just needed to vent about it and I kinda took it out on you” He looked sheepishly at you, expecting you to say something but before you could even think about it, Chan scoffed.

  “You don’t have a reason? Really?” He looked at him suggestively.

   “I mean... I may have some issues with you…” He admitted, rolling his eyes at Chan “I… Do I really have to talk about it? It’s embarrassing” He eyed Chan, clearly uncomfortable about what he had to say, so you decided to give him a hand.

  “I have some issues with my dad” You began, trying your best to stay composed, playing with your fingers as you continued “And I did some things that kind of remind me of him… I’m not proud of those, and I didn’t want to admit that I was capable of being like him” You added, averting your eyes and clearing your throat “So… Well, I started to project those things on you... If I hated you, I didn’t need to hate myself” You swallowed down, dryly, afraid of their reactions.

  To your surprise, neither of them seemed to judge you.

  “Oh, now I’ll sound even pettier” He whined, making you snort “I’m jealous of your relationship with Chan” He stated simply, his eyes avoiding yours as if they would burn if he looked at you “It’s just… He loves you” He shrugged, finally looking at you “And I’m afraid he would leave me behind because of you” He looked ashamed like he had just said he killed someone, body curved and head dropped, waiting for you to mock him or something.

  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of” You reassured him quietly “It’s not easy to be left behind… You’re not petty because you want someone by your side, you’re just human” You said softly, hand rising to squeeze his knee but you stopped mid-way, retreating and resting it on your lap.  He lifted his head, looking deep into your eyes. He seemed to see you under a whole new light, pleasantly surprised by your answer, eyes softening as he suppressed a smile.

   “Thank you” He muttered, averting his eyes.

   You felt ridiculous.

   After all those years of stingy remarks, endless teasing, and stupid competition… You would never even dare to think that you and Hyunjin would stand side by side, absolutely no hard feelings hanging in the air. It was almost comical how the atmosphere in the room felt lighter as if both of you weren’t ready to fight each other a few moments ago, a soft feeling resting inside of you.

  You felt relieved, heart fluttering inside your chest, almost too light to beat, an unusual peace seemed to sink in your bones, and before you knew it, you sighed. The gentle huff of air took out all the worries of the day. Suddenly, it was clear that none of you would end up in the hospital today, and you may even accomplish your tasks. Hyunjin seemed as relieved as you, his shoulders dropped in a relaxed manner, both of you feeling the tension going away for the first time in years.

   “I’m glad we talked” You confessed, and it was obvious you felt at ease “I didn’t know you felt this way… I’m sorry for pushing it down on you” You tightened your lips in a half-smile “I didn’t picture you as a sentimental guy… I’ll watch my words from now on” You promised, subtly calling a truce, eyes connected to his.

   “I’m not emotional” He rolled his eyes but his lips quirked a bit, a small smile adorning his face “Well, I’m glad we decided it was all your fault” He joked, this time you laughed along with him, and Chan scoffed in amusement.

  “Well, I guess I can leave you guys to it now?” Chan watched you, and you could see that he was just as satisfied as you both with the outcome “I swear to god…“ His tone went threatening again, although it was far more jokingly this time “I’m going to my room… If I hear even a small fight from there, I’m going to come back and make you share all your life” You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes as you looked at him mockingly.

   “Okay, Daddy” You pouted, and he had to look away to suppress his smile, hand going to cover his eyes, fingers pressing his temples as he shook his head slowly, amused by it. Chan made his way to his room, finally letting you alone with Hyunjin, and both of you took in the comfortable silence in the air before speaking up.

  “So... Paris” He started, unsure about what to say “What should we discuss?” You thought for a moment, lost about what you could talk about her.

  The key points about Paris were her father and her mother and that was pretty much all you had about her. The isolation her mother put her through when she was younger didn’t let much left for her to discuss in her essay, so you had little information to work with. You stared at Hyunjin, a sudden trail of thought taking your mind.

  “What about her father?” You suggested cautiously “You seem to have an abandonment problem, right? I mean… Since you’re afraid to lose Chan and stuff…” You trailed off but he didn’t seem offended, so you continued “I’ve experienced this so… Well, I think maybe we should discuss it? I mean, her mother left her father behind but it was for the best, right?” You tilted your head, unsure it was a good theme to approach.

   “Well, I guess...?” He agreed, as unsure as you “I think it doesn’t apply to her that much since she wasn’t born when her mother left her dad… She didn’t really experience being abandoned” He admitted and you frowned.

  “I disagree” You blurted out “It could be way worse but Paris had her problems… Although the absence of her father himself wasn’t really an issue for her, I think her mother wasn’t really supportive… Emotionally speaking” You claimed. Hyunjin nodded, thinking about what you said, hands trailing to his chin and rubbing the skin there.

  “Her mother didn’t really consider her wishes but to go to the extent of not being emotionally supportive? I don’t think so” He disagreed, crossing his arms “When she talked to me, she didn’t seem to care about letting things go” He seemed to remind something, so you shrugged, giving in.

  “Maybe I’m reading too much into it? I mean, she did pretty well in general… She’s really friendly and loveable but I think the lack of physical touch throughout her life made her really… Well, she doesn’t touch other people” Hyunjin furrowed his brows, pensive; he looked at you skeptically, tilting his head.

  “Are you sure about what you’re saying? I mean, she touches you and Han all the time” He pointed out “Also, she even touched me when we were talking about the essay”

  “She did what?” You asked astonished, completely throw off “I mean… I thought it was strange that she held you like this when she was drunk… Paris never touches anyone besides me and Han. Ever. You... Well, it must have been really intense if she had to touch you” You cleared your throat, averting your eyes.

   You felt like an intruder.

   There was no way in hell Paris just touched him mindlessly, she would never do this. One thing you learned about her throughout the years is that Paris didn’t know how to show her love with physical affection. She hated it. You remembered how she told you once that her mother never hugged her before her stepfather came into the scene… She felt really guilty for not hugging you or doing things she rated as normal between friends.

  The first time she held your hand almost turned out to be a holiday.

   You chuckled at the memory, confusing Hyunjin.

   “What’s so funny about it?” He asked embarrassed and you promptly shook your head.

   “No, nothing! I just remembered something” You dismissed it, waving your hand, gesturing for him to let it go “Anyway, I think we can write that the abandonment in her case was good, even though it had some consequences, and for us, it didn’t turn out so well… She learned to deal with it and we… Well, I think we didn’t” You sighed, getting a nod from him.

  “Yeah, I guess she forgave some things that we didn’t?” He mused, and you nodded back.

  “I guess so… Maybe we should learn from her? Sometimes letting something go is what you really need to heal yourself” Hyunjin hummed, impressed by your words, eyes wandering around, a thoughtful expression over his face. You knew what you said was right, and both of you seemed to have a lot to learn from Paris, but it didn’t mean you wanted to do it.

   It was way easier said than done.

#skz #stray kids #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #han #han jisung #chan #bang chan #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #kpop angst #hyunjin fanfic #kpop fanfic

[shachihata]

me rambling about rejuv’s storytelling structure under the cut i didn’t edit this post so if i’m unclear well. That’s what you get

ok so basically as i do my *checks watch* third replay of rejuv, i’ve basically been putting together what i’ve been calling like... a “lore walkthrough” of it? essentially, i’m writing synopses of each of the “story beats” of rejuv in correlation with the “gameplay beats” of rejuv, as laid out by jra’s 100% walkthrough. which seems kind of nebulous, but i mean something like this...

where i’ve put the “story beat” next to, in parentheses, the one or more gameplay sections that they correspond to. and the way i’ve split up the story beats is, i’ll admit, pretty subjective. i’ve been sort of basing it off of the natural “flow” of events, with each chapter having some sort of exposition and then a main conflict/climax. for example, chapter 4 looks like this:

“goldenleaf town” sets up the exposition for the chapter conflict, while “wispy tower” is the main climax that provides some sort of resolution to this conflict. simple!

most chapters, i’ve noticed, are around 2 story beats long, with each story beat taking place in a different area from the last. chapter 4 is divided into the goldenleaf town exposition and the wispy tower conflict/climax; chapter 8 is divided into the magma stone exposition and the valor mountain conflict/climax; chapter 9 is divided into the past aevium exposition and the west gearen sewers conflict/climax. longer chapters sometimes break this flow by introducing what i call a “falling action” beat. an example of this would be chapter 5: from the pre-blacksteeple exposition of the disappearance of akuwa town, the blacksteeple castle conflict where you confront neved and madame x, and the terajuma island falling action where you’re introduced to the next main “hub area” of rejuv. i’m on chapter 12 right now, and the only chapter that’s been shorter than two “story beats” is chapter 3, one of the shortest chapters in the game gameplay-wise, anyway. the exposition and climax both take place inside of chrysalis mansion, and occur in such short sequence with basically no falling action to speak of; story-wise, there’s nowhere that feels “right” to split it up, if that makes sense.

now, i’ve noticed that what i consider to be the “weaker” chapters of rejuv actually are the chapters that have three story beats -- these chapters, as you might imagine, are the longer ones that tend to drag on in terms of their conflicts and resolutions. chapter 5 “naturally” ended with the ending of blacksteeple, but you have to sit through a sequence at terajuma island that imo breaks the mood of the chapter by introducing you to... a tropical jungle where everyone’s complaining about the heat, literal minutes after the INCREDIBLY intense sequence where melia reveals that she’s still alive, you’re introduced to who madame x even is, and madame x kills nancy. the conflict has come to its natural close, and yet you’re immediately thrown even MORE problems that DON’T have a natural conclusion with the end of the chapter. instead, they get “dragged on,” meaning that to end your gameplay session with the end of the chapter leaves you feeling “unsatisfied” with the few answers you’ve received: saki is missing and nowhere to be found, alex and sam reveal that angie is the next big bad guy of the terajuma arc, nim is getting weirdly sick and weak, a cutscene with ren shows him joining team xen... and so on.

obviously, in any story, there has to be an overarching plot and conflict that does span multiple chapters. like, i’m not saying that all the problems in a chapter need to be resolved in that chapter. i’m saying that the “weaker” chapters introduce multiple smaller conflicts that simply aren’t on the level of the main plot that don’t get addressed to any satisfying degree, which weakens the overall impact of the chapter’s conflict and makes it feel longer than necessary. if that makes sense!

it’s this tendency to “drag on” that makes rejuv’s storyline much weaker after act 1 (the ending at valor mountain), imo. chapter 8 was an incredibly strong chapter, definitely one of my favorite in all of rejuv -- magma stone exposition plus a powerful ending at valor mountain where a lot of subplots are either resolved or, at the very least, addressed in a way where the player’s reassured that they haven’t been forgotten about (just off the top of my head... crescent’s connection to the player, jenner’s love for melia, nim’s psychic powers and inhuman nature, zetta’s problems and disorders, team xen’s weird immortality-at-a-cost, etc etc etc). it’s a natural ending to the main conflict of act 1: Team Xen Has Problems And Wants Melia Soooooooo So Bad. you win! ...at a major cost. it provides satisfying resolutions to the problems that’ve been presented in the first half of the game, while still setting up the stakes of the next act (angie, team xen at large, Crescent’s Connection To The Player). you’ve got a pretty clear idea of What To Do Now and What The Plot Is Going To Address Next, but the main threat still on the table is Madame X And Co.

...and then act 2 comes in and starts muddying stuff up. the reason why act 1 works so well is because even though there are so many minor problems being introduced, the major problem is still hanging over your head at any given moment. melia dead? it’s team xen. keta’s dead? it’s team xen. aelita’s being tortured? it’s team xen. amber’s being kidnapped? You Guessed It, It’s Team Xen. there’s no ambiguity about what the overarching plot is, as opposed to the myriad of “overarching arc-spanning problems” that are introduced in each chapter in act 2. once again, off the top of my head: your role as the “interceptor,” the role of bladestar, kieran and clear, the puppetmaster, nim/lorna, angie, vitus/indriad, the stone incident... and team xen’s previously-monolithic strength is undermined by madame x’s role in the doomed future, as she becomes a semi-ally even though there was very little prior character development for her besides “evil lady who killed your mom and warned maria in the prologue and has some sort of goal that you’re unwittingly ruining.” their importance in act 1 is diminished by all of the new problems suddenly being thrown at you in act 2 that have arc-wide importance, even though you, as a first-time player, have no idea why so many problems seem to be having arc-wide importance.

expanding off of what i was talking about earlier with chapter 5: the problems “drag on”! a TON of problems are introduced with VERY little resolution in each chapter, and the previously-rigid story beats start falling apart, making the story less satisfying to play through even though you know there will be a resolution at some point in the future. take my (very very tentative) outline for chapter 11 so far:

i wasn’t... very sure how to split this one apart, tbh, because every beat has so many problems and so little resolution, everything ends up blurring together. the first beat, “grand dream city”: the missing rune. bladestar. valarie not recognizing you guys. alice and allen and karen and their connection to the theolias. cassandra’s connection to team xen. madelis’s new job. the second beat, “stone incident”: venam being turned into stone. isha and the hospital of hope. nightmare city. who the fuck is the puppetmaster. nightmare zetta. aelita’s problems and issues disorders. being the “interceptor.” the xenpurgis. the last beat, “rose theatre”: what happened to aelita. souta’s connection to the eldest. your crew being signed up for the festival of dreams tournament.

...how many of these are resolved by the end of chapter 11? uhhhhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. yeah. compare this to how much “tighter” chapter 4 felt! the first beat, “goldenleaf town”: geara coming to intercept you in goldenleaf. ren’s connection to goldenleaf. narcissa’s problems with goldenleaf. mosely’s conflict with goldenleaf. the wispy tower incident. the second beat, “wispy tower”: mosely comes back to help you! you realize that the wispy tower is somehow connected to team xen/houses information important to team xen, and beat geara’s ass in the process! you beat narcissa in a gym battle, and goldenleaf changes their ways! ren tells you that he has problems with goldenleaf because it was his father’s last wish that he “save” goldenleaf! it sets up future conflict (ren’s dissatisfaction with the outcome, what sirius and co. were studying in wispy tower, geara meeting up with jenner/zetta/nim in the altered dimension), but there’s a clear main conflict that gets resolved and ties back to the main enemy, team xen. it’s clear-cut, it’s strongly written, it’s done.

yes, act 2 expands the scope and heightens the stakes of rejuv a lot, which is why so many problems Are Introduced At All -- but the main conflict gets very heavily muddied with all of the minor problems that are thrown at you with every single conversation, it feels. i’m only on chapter 12 but from what i remember, this “dragging on” problem happens a lot throughout act 2 (although there are some sections i think are very strongly written, don’t get me wrong). that’s why chapter 15 is so good, in comparison: it provides so much fucking resolution. it’s a “return to form,” in a sense -- conflict is set up and resolved in that chapter, while questions from previous chapters are brought back and answered (to... some “vague” degree of “clarity”). this is very much opposed to a lot of the chapters in act 2 imo, where a bunch of problems are set up with no resolution in that chapter at all. idk. my memory of them is kinda fuzzy and i gotta just keep chugging through the game, it’s interesting just to break down how all this stuff works in a meta storytelling sense ig :T

#ciphertexts #rejuvenation #fake tvtropes analysis #ahhhh fake tvtropes analysis tag i've missed you. #anyway. if you actually read all this wow. i don't feel like a single one of these paragraphs makes sense to anyone but me. #if youve got thoughts id love to hear em though. i love critical analysis and being a hater