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#heck i just.. hate..living here.. i very desperately want to live on my own but i absolutely Need to live with ppl im comfortable around n
daringdoombringer · 2 months
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“Maybe in another universe my life isn’t a setup by the person I look up to most.”
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“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.”
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Trope/character rant incoming! CW: STUFF ABOUT DEREALIZATION
i havent watched TOH but from loads of fan content ive seen i know Hunter Wittbane and Mack Hartford follow the same trope: being told their entire lives were lies by their parental figure, and they were in fact created artificially for a greater purpose. Hunter for destruction, Mack for loneliness cause his “dad” really *really* wanted a son? Idrk yet, i really need to rewatch Overdrive. I do remember Mack’s dad being a much better dad than Belos, and that Mack was created with good intentions. (fuck Emperor Belos all my homies hate Belos)
The only thing I vividly remember from watching Operation Overdrive was when Mack was revealed to be a robot, programmed with memories and tricked into believing he was always human. Being told his super strength and endurance were simply genetic superpowers. That there was nothing to question and everything was fine.
He was lied to. His whole life. His EXISTENCE was an elaborate lie.
Do you realize how screwed up that is?? The thought of your life and the reason you are alive and breathing is a cover up for something greater. If you can even breathe in the first place! That you were artificially created by someone/something else? That youve never truly been in control of *anything?*
That youre really just someone’s ELABORATE ART PROJECT???? THAT YOUR ENTIRE LIFE IS FAKE?!?! DO YOU SEE WHAT IM GETTING AT HERE? After you find out, then what? What else is a lie? Are your friends lying to you? Your thoughts and body were never truly yours. You’re not in control. Only the person you now have to call “creator.” Is there anything you can call your own? Are you real? Is anything else real? Were you EVER real?
What’s the point?
What’s the point of anything when your existence was a ruse from the very start?
What if it weren’t for Power Ranger’s infamously bad acting? What Mack had reacted realistically? If he did it likely wouldn’t have been pretty. Idk about y’all but I think he deserved to snap. Just for a moment. As a little treat.
He was programmed to think he was just a kinda weird human, surely that’s what he is? He’s alive, right? And robots never go against their programming, right?
What if he runs off in a blind rage, feeling utterly betrayed by his mentor and fellow Rangers? What is he supposed to do? How is he even comprehending this? How is he doing this? Can robots do that?! Robots can’t act, only think! Only thinking with the preprogrammed thoughts and information that were deliberately given to them! His thoughts aren’t his! His life never belonged to him in the first place! No wonder he never felt like he belonged among the other Rangers! He was never a real person like they are!
Mack’s now in a paranoid frenzy debating everything he’s ever known. His life, his personality, his memories are artificial. HE is artificial. He doesn’t know what or who to trust anymore. He’s never had a life to call his own because it never happened! Now desperately looking for something to call his own, something he KNOWS ISNT FAKE. Something that isn’t a lie like he is.
What if one of the bad guys finds him in this state?
I mean, having a now distressed and enraged but ridiculously powerful robot on your side wouldn’t be too bad, would it? And those pesky Rangers would be without their leader…
What if Tyzzon steps up in Mack’s absence, determined to find him and have the team be whole again? Mack and the Rangers saved him, now it’s time for him to return the favor. From one nonhuman to another. Mack is the only friend Tyzzon’s had, after all. They can’t afford to loose him. Not now. Not when the world is under attack. Not ever.
But ofc something like THAT would be much too brave for Power Rangers. A Pangender person can dream. Oh wait I just wrote down the plot to one heck of an alternative universe fanfiction… damn. I was just going off what little I remembered from the show lol
BUT WAIT. THERES MORE.
When I was at GalaxyCon this weekend, I found Derrick Cameron. (actor who played Tyzzon, the Mercury Ranger.) I brought up the Mack being a robot thing to him, and he said the cast wasn’t informed of it at all.
SO NOT EVEN THE ACTORS KNEW UP UNTIL IT CAME TIME TO FILM THE EPISODE. OH MY GOD.
So yeah this post WAS about a general trope but I kinda got sidetracked lol. Anything in fiction involving robots/machines/AI debating their existences, learning how to be human, any symbolism involving them, GOD.
THAT SHIT FUCKS. ME. UP.
✨thank you for witnessing my unhinged rant✨
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flowerwrites06 · 2 years
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english isn't my mother language kindly bear with me. if you end up writing it, either it can be a two shot or a mini series TT.
wealthy industrialist jungkook with smoking addiction and depression and 911 call receiver reader. his company is almost bankrupted, his fiance broke it off with him and got back with her ex, basically everything in his life is hard at the moment and he's suffering in all ways. financially, mentally.
a little back story— his mother cheated on his father when he was younger (they had a 12 year age gap and they were sort of arranged into a marriage but his father loved his mother and he tried for her, so even when he figured out she cheated on him and is planning for a divorce, he took it all for the sake of jungkook, his father was suffering a sickly illness and it was a last stage blood cancer, he still named all his properties, companies under jungkook's mother though they've been divorced for a long time) despite all that jungkook had to see his mother have her own children with a man she ran away with and providing his needs with his father's earned money. and have the nerves to show up at the main company like it belonged to her. He hated her all his life. She was never there to begin with.
he's a collected, the boy next door kind of person, yet he often looses his mind and ends up lashing out at people, he's stressed out most of the time explains why peopled don't stick by him.
there's a point in his life where all of it gets so overbearing (loss of big projects, the employees demanding salary, bank loans, house bills, house getting banned (idk what they actually call it TT) stuff like that he had to look for a house at a cheap neighbourhood and sleep on the hard mattress floor with broken shower, broken window and just those stuff, his mother knew all of it yet she didn't come out to help him, she pretended like she's never lived a life where he and his father existed (she's a neglecting mother, and she doesn't deserve an ounce of respect from me)
(I think if you end writing it majority of us are gonna hate on her) moving on to the story, he wanted to get rid of all these, he couldn't take it all at once, he's tried for 2 years but it kept getting bad, he was clueless and constantly felt like he wasn't doing his job, he lost the inspiration, the motivation to remember how to stay stiff and unrivaled in his field, he felt so desperate to end his suffering, the only way to get out of it seemed to be death but he just couldn't gulp down more than 2 pills, he dialed 911 for support to help him end his life. don't criticise! my guy was not mentally in a good state.
the reader is the pick up caller, he'd desperately cried to her to help him and she somehow managed to calm him down, they go on with the call while she tracks him down and sends the deputies to his location. she's a very sweet person in general. AND THERE'S A VERY CUTE moment in all these. she does the typical 911 question at the beginning "where are you at the moment? please tell me your location." And he answers "in my bedroom" very innocently and sadly and more conversations happen and he keeps telling her he wants to end his life.
she keeps him distracted and the deputy is there and breaking in, they take him in and contact his mother, she requests to admit him to rehab, he stays over a year and then he's starting fresh, his life is on track, he's started his own business and it's almost surpassing his dad's and great successors of his family, a conversation with a friend reminds him of his life a year ago when he wanted to end it, he wouldn't have been here if it weren't for her. (OC)
HOW THEY MEET 😭🥵 he wanted to thank her, she saved him big times, so he contacted the deputy somehow and did a heck lot of research to look for that women. (OC) and finally he finds her, they keep in touch back and forth, she's still a 911 call receiver (am I right) AND there's this cute scen, where he's abroad and he's having a hard time avoiding cigarettes when his colleagues insisted him to have a drag, she sends him a voice text and he replays that 15-17 times and gets comforted 🥵
she says something like this " it must be hard, but this is a piece of pancake for you, you can do this right? you're not alone I'm with you, wherever you are I'll make sure my support reaches you, I'll take care of everything, all your pain, your frustrations, your worries. see you then." Then they date and they overcome all of these together. It's just a comforting story.
a little background check on oc.
she's a 911 call receiver and she has a traumatic experience about it, she got called by her aunt when her husband abused her to death. She also has nightmares and panic attacks. and the rest you can makeup with your own idea.
random inspired dialogue.
"It's just a moment, the moment when we have to find guts and say goodbye to our fear. Past can't decide what we are and what we will become in the future, it can't manipulate you to end your life. It's just a moment we need to find to live and love for a long time in the future."
jungkook is like the sweet, introverted guy.
she is this confident, also introverted yet cheerful person.
Hi! Thank you for thinking I can write something like this but I'm going to have to decline. While I love that you're passionate and enthusiastic about this story, I prefer requests that allow me some creative freedom. Being a writer doesn't just mean I make words pretty in a sentence. It's about developing characters, worlds, backgrounds and themes.
If you start telling me how the characters meet, their backstories and their dialogues then what does that leave with me? How do I build the character if it's already built? How do I build a bond if you already told me every nook and cranny?
You also mentioned two extremely major and triggering topics. I know I worded the post wrong by saying there's no 'limit' and that's my bad. But please make sure that you double-check whether an author is okay with writing specific topics.
I'd suggest that you try to write this story yourself since you have a good idea of it. More than I do. Hope you understand where I'm coming from, thanks.
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gumdecay · 6 years
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#i want 2 go back 2 feeling warm n flowing n loving n caring....... vrything feels so stale & overworked rn i shld have cleaned myroom b4 i#left 2 my moms but i Didnt n now i rlly badly need 2 theres tissues n water bottles n trash Everywhere i have 2 mostly empty boxes of grocer#ies but theyre the big aldis ones so itd b rlly conspicuous 2 take them out of my room n they have food thats wasted in them bc i was gone 4#two whole weeks n also idk if anyone pulled the bins back in from the road evn tho garbage is on thurs so i cant take them out nyway til i c#heck i just.. hate..living here.. i very desperately want to live on my own but i absolutely Need to live with ppl im comfortable around n#im just. not. comfortable here. its too big n theres 2 more roommates than i can handle and everythings covered in a thin layer of grime and#i cant fucking stand it. there hasnt been toilet paper in the bathroom since i got here but ive literally bought every fucking roll since i#got here so im keeping mine in my room n carrying it 2 the br w me when i go and i hate it. the kitchen is a mess to the point where evn tho#i havent eaten since i got here i dont evn want to bring groceries home the counters are never fully clean theres no counter or cupboard spa#ce theres always spills in the fridge and the new roommate put the litter in the back kitchen so evn walking into the fucking kitchen all u#can smell is the litter & its disgusting! i start having breakdowns just @ the thought of leaving my fucking room and i hate it! i pay $550#a fucking month to live in this busy dirty house and theres literally NOTHING cheaper ANYWHERE i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it#b was supposed 2 help me w rent n if he DID id have enough saved to just. fucking get a $650 a month apartment thats entirely mine but he do#esnt n hes between houses rn so i cant ask him and i just :') hate this :') i hate being poor i hate that i need disability i hate that the#gvmt wants me dead so bad they wont pay me a living fucking wage i hate that my brother gets more foodstamps than me & that both my brothers#can find jobs in a second bc their brains arent fucking melting every second of every day & their bodies arent trying to force quit bc they#werent fucking ABUSED NONSTOP AS CHILDREN i hate that im the only one in my family like this i hate that no one fucking listens when i tell#them itll b like this 4 the rest of my life i honest to god wish i wldve died any of the times i committed bc im 2 fucking scared to do it#nymore n i dont have enough of nything left to od but im fucking tired of living like this w no end in sight :')
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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Bouquet
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None
Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...
Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤
I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?
Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.
So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer. 
If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!
But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.
“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.
I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”
“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.
I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”
“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“
And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.
“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“
I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.
“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.
“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.
“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair. 
I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.
“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“
“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“
Phew, God bless you Rae.
“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.
At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.
Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?
As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week.  I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.
It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.
“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“
“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.
“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“
He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard  for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.
“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.
I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.
Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....
Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM
                                                               ~ ~ ~
I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.
Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-
My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.
“Thank you, Romeo ;)“
Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.
Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.
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aliensunflower-fics · 4 years
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Marinette Changes Schools: A funny little Lila salt prompt
So, there are a lot of ‘Marinette changes schools’ au’s and I love a whole bunch of them don't get me wrong. BUT the one thing I haven’t seen yet is Marinette changing schools not because of Lila or salt but simply because her parents are moving and they want her to attend a school close to home. So without further ado let me sell you on my little idea: 
Lila has been plotting weeks worth of plans and lies, she’s thought up some sob stories about being stalked, about near death experiences, about celebrities that are like her family. She has plans for Marinette all the ways she could make the girl look bad and all the ways she could force Adrien to see her. That all goes out the window one day when she gets to school and it's a sob fest. There is a clear air of dread and dismay, the blue skies she saw on the way to school replaced with heavy storm clouds. And when she gets to class it's worse. Marinette and Alya are hugging and crying, Adrien looks like he's been shot, Nino and Kim are demanding to know ‘why’ even Chloe looks upset, her blue eyes a little glassy. Lila quickly learns why, Marinette’s parents' business is doing GREAT so great in fact that they have decided to open a second location! The twist? They also decided to move INTO the new location and with it being on the other side of Paris and her parents fears for their daughters safety that means Marinette is moving to a new school!
Now Lila doesn’t even have to school her face into a practiced expression of shock. She genuinely is shocked here she’d been planning months in advance picturing the ways she would destroy her rivals life and steal her friends! And now just like that Marinette is MOVING? Of course Lila quickly decides this is a good thing! After all if Marinette is out of the picture ruling the school will be that much easier. Sure Chloe might be queen bee but with Marinette gone people will be looking to replace her! In walks Lila Rossi, a gorgeous upstart model with a heart of gold and connections coming out of her bangs! She’d rule the school and Adrien would fall for her, then Marinette would probably come crawling back desperate for her old friends only to learn she’d snatched them all up! It was brilliant! And with Marinette gone she could probably do it in record time! So Lila covers up her smirk and says she’s devastated to hear that the twin tailed girl would be leaving and begins plotting.
In the month that follows Lila leaves Marinette alone letting her have her friends for what would be for the last time. After all if everyone still loved the designer when she left they’d be all the more eager to replace her with a new and better version. Of course just because Lila is playing nice doesn’t mean she enjoys it. Alya is practically glued to the girl and ignores Lila even when she’s not trying to sabotage Marinette. Adrien is acting like his life is ending and all anyone will talk about is Marinette. When she checks social media it's all just pictures of ‘old-great times with Marinette’ or new photos and videos of helping the girl pack up and move into her new room, which Lila seethes about for a week when she sees the photos of the spacious luxurious room with a private bath. Apparently the Dupain-Cheng’s new bakery was in a pretty ritzy rich neighborhood. During school Marinette is mobbed by a constant stream of people begging her to stay and when they accept that not happening they all at least beg her to ‘come back and visit’ Marinette promises and Lila has to hide her snort. Fat chance of that actually happening. 
Finally the last day arrives and Lila has to hold back the urge to gag as everyone fills the nearby park giving Marinette gifts and heartfelt goodbyes. Adrien is the last one to offer his gift and Lila seethes as Marinette gingerly opens the box with a gasp and pulls out two brand new pink hair ribbons, and Adrien goes on to say that they’re made of imported silk! SILK, as if the little baker brat deserved silk! The whole exchange is cliche and romantic as Marinette removes her current hair ribbons to tie in the new ones and Adrien ties the old ones around his wrist like some idiot who doesn’t realize what a love struck longing look he's giving his ‘good friend’. But Lila just keeps reminding herself its just a bit longer and sure enough not long after the hideously gooey exchange between Adrien and Marinette is over the designer is leaving with more tears and farewells. FINALLY Lila thinks she can get back to what matters! Ruling her empire.
As it turns out ruling her empire is not what she thinks. For the first month after Marinette leaves all anyone will talk about is the photos she’s posted online. The first week its ALL about HER new school is a private well known academy with uniforms, and isn't Marinette cute in it? And look at her in her custom black kitty thigh highs? Lila wants to scream, but not as much as when she catches Adrien drooling over the photo of said thigh highs and twirling the old nasty hair ribbons around his wrist. The second week its all about the video tour of her new home and school that Marinette sent Alya. Lila glares the whole time as Alya puts the video on the projector at lunch so everyone can see the big new gorgeous bakery and the beautiful house on the second floor and her stupid big bedroom that should belong to someone like herself and not some bratty bakers daughter! By the third week Lila has had enough and fakes some nasty texts from Marinette hoping to speed up the process of helping her classmates move on to HERSELF. It backfires spectacularly with Alya going on the warpath to learn who would dare frame Marinette now that she’s gone. Lila is starting to realize that somehow Marinette has reached a higher level of popularity now that she’s gone. But she reminds herself it won't last forever that in ‘just a little bit longer’ everyone will forget the baker. Right?
A little bit longer. Never happens. Lila asks the girls to hang out that weekend with plans of winning them over with some juicy celeb story? Alya says they all already made plans to hope aboard the train to spend the whole weekend at Marinette’s new place! Lila tries to corner Adrien into a date after a photo shoot. He disappears and all she hears from the workers on set is that he's been looking up some new bakery on the other side of town. [Marinette is suddenly being visited by Chat Noir every other night but she figures she must have moved closer to where his civilian self lives if hes dropping by so much.] She tries to throw a party for the class? They can't. Marinette will be coming out to the park today! With her new school friends!
AH HA! Lila see’s opportunity and decides to tag along. After all if Marinette has new friends Lila can twist it! She’ll whisper about her replacing them all! Make them hate Marinette’s new friends! Fill them with jealousy till they hate Marinette! It's BRILLIANT! And, it fails in less than two minutes, with Alya learning about Aurore being a ballet dancer and the two girls bonding over their mutual love of DANCE?? How the heck was Lila supposed to know Alya had been a champion ballet dancer in her younger years! Then Nino is bonding with some kid named Allen or whatever about classical vs modern music and how to blend the two! And some kid named Claude is joking with Kim, Max, and Alix! And this is definitely not how things were supposed to go!
The worst part is Adrien, who is passive aggressively fighting for Marinette against Kagami AND Felix who are both all too eager to show how ‘close’ they’ve gotten to the baker's daughter while Adrien’s been across the city. Kagami is all to happy to show off that she ALSO bought Marinette some new silk hair ribbons [in a red shade that happens to match her fencing uniform] while Felix eagerly wisks Marinette away the moment Kagami and Adrien are distracted the two fencers find him openly flirting with an oblivious Marinette her hair down because ‘oh felix was nice enough to help me get some leaves out of my hair and said i should leave it like this!’ [while both Kagami and Adrien agree she looks beyond cute they know this means war.] Needless to say Lila didn’t realize that Marinette was that damn popular with men and woman.
The week after the meet up Lila is worn so thin she’s ready to snap. Not only did the class not get jealous but they actually became FRIENDS with all of Marinette’s new buddies and were planning many more meet ups including a paintball war over the baker girl that saturday. Adrien had taken to openly mumbling to himself about changing schools and how he ‘cant believe’ his own flesh and blood would so openly flirt with HIS very good friend! And what was with Kagami showing off how easily she can pick up and carry Marinette? And why did she invite Marinette to watch their next tournament! He needed to train, what if he lost?? In front of Marinette?! And then she thought he was too weak to keep her safe like all good friends are supposed to do! Clearly Kagami was trying to replace him as Marinette’s very good friend! Poor Nino who was sitting next to the boy had actually volunteered to switch with Lila but she came up with a lie to avoid it, she’d had enough of hearing about Marinette from Alya and Juleka and the rest of the girls, she didn’t also need to hear it from Adrien! 
It all comes to a head that Saturday during the paintball tournament when Lila now at her wits end her plans out the window her schemes barely thought out hopes to find something ANYTHING to ruin Marinette’s day and reputation and everything. But Lila just so happens to get completely pelted with paintballs everytime she so much as moves and then later gets ignored when trying to wow Marinette’s new friends, and then gets called out by Felix and Kagami snaps and finally she snaps and SCREAMS and runs off and not even a dark little butterfly comes to help her ruin the perfect day. As it turns out Hawkmoth was a little preoccupied with trying to save his business after all the computers and data involved in his precise scheduling were mysteriously corrupted suddenly freeing up his son's time and schedule so he could spend more with HIS very good friend and no one else's. Kagami and Felix apparently had the same idea as when he gets to her new house their already their doing their best to get on her parents good side.
Basically just give me some comedic, fluffy, Lila salty, Marinette changes school fics. Because I love them ok.
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bokettochild · 3 years
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Day 4 - Trust Fall
Went with the prompt 'taken hostage' for this one, and I'm quite pleased. I might follow it up from another prompt on the list, but I quite like how it ended.
Suffer :)
There are many people who hate the Hero of Warriors.
It was a well-known fact, and something that had haunted him since the ends of the war, but he couldn’t exactly blame the folks who did. After all, it was for lust of the hero that Cia had killed so many, and there were families all across Hyrule who had lost loved ones because the hero had refused the affections of one lonely, corrupted woman.
Zelda had tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but that changed nothing; people had still died because of Cia’s lust, and still more had died because of his own over-confidence. So, when he walked the streets of Castletown and the people who wanted to thank him faded to the background as a single soul would stand and spit insults loaded with venom more poisonous than a deku baba, he would take their words and let them speak, never once challenging them, even when his men would protest and beg for permission to reprimand his attacker. Zelda had pleaded for him to stop, claiming that he lowered the moral of the army by not carrying himself strongly and with honor, but how could he rob someone of their voice when he’d already robbed them of everything else?
There was one upside to it all though; when Warriors met Legend, there was nothing the younger hero could say that could truly hurt him. Legend would huff and complain and tease and jab, but his insults were a gentle nudge in comparison to the hearty shoves into boiling lava that he’d seen from his own people, and he welcomed the verbal sparring with the other hero. It was nice to be able to speak back without having guilt rise in his chest, and he enjoyed getting to tease and bother the veteran hero in return.
In that manner, an unlikely friendship had formed between a hero who hated soldiers and a soldier who hated being a hero.
He was close to all of the others of course; Sky, Wild and himself would spend hours discussing their worlds and the systems of knights and training and the like. Time and Wind, his boys and the pride of his heart, would mess around with him and it warmed him body and soul to offer them advice or comfort after a long day (and having the two of them cuddle up when they thought no one was looking was an extra warm bonus on multiple fronts).
Four was- well, there was no words for the relationship he shared with the smithy. It was a relationship of exchanged looks and mutual silence. One of two brothers who knew each other as well as if they’d actually been born to the same mother, and who could read the others actions as if they were reading their thoughts. It was them flopping over each other and Four climbing onto his shoulders to reach things, it was him throwing the smithy bodily up towards high places and leaning on the top of his head when he was drained or feeling playful.
Wild and Hyrule were his baby brothers, the chaotic ones who he was helping to bring up right, the boys who needed a guiding hand and a firm voice to push them and guide them, but who reveled in warm hugs and teasing or encouraging words.
And Twilight? Twilight was his sparring partner, his closest brother and the one he’d probably end up socking in the face one day. There was enough said on that front. Legend very nearly made the same rank, except...
Except Legend was, truth be told, as much a kid as the others and despite their verbal battles, he didn’t think he could actually ever hit the kid for real, no matter how often he cuffed the pink head or pushed the short vet over in jest, he didn’t think he could ever cause the younger hero harm. Yeah, yeah, so maybe it was the big brother and father in him that said he wouldn’t live with himself if he hurt the kid, but it was also the soldier and captain that saw a reflection of every cocky recruit he’d ever trained and a certain mask wearing child in the vet’s painfully rare smiles and much more common snarky comments.
And he just couldn’t bring himself to hurt a kid in the first place.
No matter how much of an ass they were being.
“Seriously though, how have you not died?” Legend was scoffing, but the vet’s arms were wrapped tight around himself as the kid rolled his eyes. “I mean, one bokoblin? How is that the first time an enemy has ever grabbed your scarf?”
Warriors would have laughed it off with a tease about the vet’s lack of leg protection, but he could see the worry shining in violet hues and feel the tender bruising that wrapped around his own neck. He hardly remembered the last battle, adrenalin and the concussion had seen to that, but legend had been weirdly snappish with him since, yet simultaneously clingy in a way that was painfully uncharacteristic of their salty veteran. “Most monsters are just dumb.” He’d shrugged off at last, but Legend hardly looked contented, picking at his tunic and scowling at his boots as if there was something more he wanted to complain about or say, but he lacked the words to say it.
Oh goddesses, the vet really was like Mask, wasn’t he? All bashful worry and fussing disguised as insults and annoyance, but underneath just a kid who desperately needed the assurance that the people around him weren’t seconds away from death.
“I’ll be fine, you grouchy little bumblebee.” He scoffed, tugging at one of the vet’s long ears, just as he did with Time when the now older hero was getting to wrapped up in his head. “We’re in my world anyway and the monsters here are dumber than rocks.” Usually he’d just say ‘dumb as rocks’ but they’d met a talus in Wild’s Hyrule and he couldn’t honestly think of that phrase the same way since.
“Black blood makes them smarter.” Legend huffed, batting his hands away with a scowl, nose wrinkling up in an almost adorable manner as he sidestepped a swipe at his hair. “And I just fixed that thing for you, I don’t want to have to do that again.”
So much like Time had been, did the vet see it? Just like his middle kid and it was messing with his brain in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. How upset would Sky be if he gathered Legend in amongst his boys as well? The Skyloftian wasn’t particularly possessive of his descendants and he might not mind sharing responsibility over the vet. He’d have to ask, but only once he was sure Legend was out of earshot, the kid was barely tolerant of Sky coddling him, and even then, usually only when he was sleepy or scared shitless.
“Are you listening, Captain? I’m not mending that scarf again this week, you ass.” Legend flicked his ears, irritation at being ignored coloring his face with a scowl that quickly faded into surprise as a blue heap of fabric settled over his head and shoulders. Of course, the surprise disappeared too once Legend’s face was covered with the tail end of the scarf, and he had to grab the back of the vet’s tunic to stop him from tumbling to the ground as he tripped over the rocky path.
“What the heck, Wars?!” The teen squeaked, fumbling with the fabric as the captain let a laugh rumble up through his chest into his throat.
“You keep fussing about the scarf, yeah? Well,” He reached out to tug the loose end down, chest thrumming with warmth as the pout on Legend’s face beneath the scarf and a fierce blush. “So how about you keep it safe for me, just for a bit.” He shifted the fabric again, arranging it to lay better around the veteran’s thin shoulders. “You can give it back after the next battle, yeah? Then you’ll know it’s not damaged.”
The pink-haired hero rolled his eyes at that comment, but Wars didn’t miss how the kid nestled in amidst the blue fabric with a soft hum.
Oh yeah, despite all the teasing, it was clear Legend liked the scarf as much as his other boys. He hoped Sun and Sky didn’t mind sharing too much, because there was no going back now.
“Dramatic arse.” Legend huffed, but despite the vet tugging the scarf up over his nose and mouth he still saw the grin the lay beneath.
Somewhere behind him, he could hear Time and Wind exchanging whispers while Twilight grumbled something exceedingly rude and fond all at once.
“Should we split up to find supplies then?” Sky asked, pointedly ignoring Twilight’s comment as he addressed the group as a whole, earning a thoughtful nod from Time.
“Probably best.” The man hummed out. “Groups of three, Hyrule and Wind, you’re with the vet, Four and Sky, you’re with Wars, Cub, Pup, I want you two with me, if something happens I want a responsible adult on every team, as well as someone who knows this Castletown well.”
Agreement thrummed over them as they split up, Wind catching his party members by their hands and pulling them off towards the tailor and apothecary shops so Legend could restock on thread and fabric and Hyrule could gather more healing supplies. Time’s group turned the opposite way, heading off into the main market square so Wild could restock on food stuffs and a new haversack for the traveler as Hyrule’s had had a hole worn in the corner that even Four doubted he could fix. Warriors himself led his team towards the fletchers and the forge, with the intent of buying more arrows and getting Four permission to repair a few of their weapons.
The chatter of the town was cheerier than usual, and to his surprise, not a single person spoke to him beyond the occasional inquiry about directions or an apology or insult after bumping into them. It was like he was invisible, or very nearly, and even those who made a point of calling out thanks or insults only waved cheerily to him as if he was just another passing soldier.
At the smithy, the Master Smithy, Gaepak, blinked in surprise for a good minute when Wars had approached to ask for use of the workroom. “Gen’ral? Is ‘at yew?”
He cocked a brow at the question. “Yes? Is there a problem?”
Gaepak boomed a nervous laugh, motioning to his own short neck with a faint flush on his face as his ears twitched lightly. “’Ard to tell you apart from yer men wit’out that scaaf of yers.” The man apologized, and the apprentice at the blacksmith’s side nodded nervously.
He couldn’t help back slip into a disarming smile (although he had to fight not to slip into their heavy accent as well when he spoke). “Quite alright, gentlemen. I’ve just let it out to one of-”
“Yer boys.” the smith nodded knowingly, earning a snigger from their own short-statured smithy and a light chuckle from Sky.
Warriors flushed slightly. Really, the people of Castletown knew him too well. “Yes, one of my boys.”
“An’ a moighty fine father ye are.” Gaepak drawled with a grin. “Use the forge ta yer ‘eart’s content.” The smith added, moving back to his own workstation with a cheery wink. “Jist moind ye clean it up when ya done.”
Four had shouted something of a reassurance before moving to the offered work station with shining hazel eyes and fingers already flitting over the available tools to familiarize himself with them. In the meantime, Sky had shot him a knowing smile, eyes twinkling as the captain had flushed softly.
Four was deep into his work and the two of them had already finished a lengthily talk and a trip to the fletchers when Wind and Hyrule had burst in, heavy breaths heaving through the two and a healthy flush over two sets of rounded cheeks as wild eyes had turned to the two adults.
“Wind, you can’t bust into a forge! Four shouted over the clang of metal. “It’s dang-”
“Legend was kidnapped.” Wind blurted out, voice strained and barely holding onto the collected and controlled report method Warriors had drilled into all of his soldiers during the war.   Four’s hammer froze mid-air as the three had whipped around to face the two younger heroes, both knights stiffening instinctively as all laughter left their faces.
“What happened.” Warriors demanded, stepping forwards, jaw set and eyes hard as he met the sailor’s wavering gaze.
The aura of peace faded in instants, and soldier met the eyes of soldier as Wind snapped a neat salute. Unnecessary, yes, but trained into the kid by the other soldiers and probably a comforting sort of habit to revert to in the moment (Warriors felt the same about standing at parade rest as he listened to the kid’s report). “We were just entering the apothecary when a couple of folks approached Legend outside the door. He waved us inside to do our business while they talked, and Hyrule and I did as he asked. We gathered the needed supplies- that doesn’t matter though- the point is, when we were at the counter ringing up-”
“There was shouting outside!” Hyrule interrupted, fingering the strap of his faded satchel. “We thought it was just Legend being Legend, you know how he is but-”
“But then there was something of a scuffle and some bangin-”
“- and when we finished at the counter, because the man wouldn’t hurry up and refused to let us leave ‘till we’d been rung up-”
“Legend was gone!” Wind exploded, eyes shining with near panic as they met his own.
“Where were you exactly?” Wars demanded, mind already flitting across the list of people who were likely to have taken the vet. There weren’t many people the kid would have interacted with here, especially not alone, and saving the soldiers he’d accidentally embarrassed a couple of switches back (kid needed to wear some pants if he didn’t want to mistook for a girl) there wasn’t anyone he could really think of that would have cause to try anything. Sure, Legend’s winning personality might earn him a blow to the face from some of the rowdier townsfolk, but at worst he’d be left on the street on in an alley with a bruised face and a fractured rib or two, not taken away entirely.
As he considered, Four was already tidying up behind him only to have Gaepak wave them off with a worried look. “Moi boys will see to this ‘ere mess, don’t botha. Yew got a kid missin’ you go fetch ‘im, goodness knows Gen’ral that yew don’t need to be suff’rin’ that again.”
It was a bitter reminder, but he’d nodded his thanks all the same and grabbed ahold of Wind’s hand as he led the charge back into the street, Hyrule and Sky tagging along as Four made arrangements to come back later for the still cooling weapons before scampering out after them.
Searching Castletown’s streets would take hours, but after they’d run into one of his men, Bav, he’d filled the soldier in on the situation, and hardly had the words ‘my kid’ been out of his mouth before the other was nodding and agreeing to get the rest of the squadron to search the town. They’d found the others not long after, and the trio had dropped everything (even Wild’s slate for a hot second) to come rushing after them, their now two groups weaving in and out of alleyways and streets.
“Your wife?” A painfully familiar farm-wife had tutted. “First your poor daughter and now your poor wife. I’m sorry, luv, but I haven’t seen a thing.” Wind had crooked a smile at the groan Warriors had barely stifled as he led their group away, Sky and Hyrule both staring at the duo in confusion as they pressed further into the crowd.
Continued asking had brought up nothing, and after hours of trotting through the streets in a growing panic, Sky at his side and Hyrule nearly fluttering along with them, they’d finally been pulled aside by one of the soldiers and made to sit down in a guard-station long enough to drink some water and be caught up on the soldiers’ findings.
“Nothing yet, General Link, but we’ll keep looking. Until then, you should take a rest-” He’d moved to protest only to be cut off by a frown from one of his mates. “You’ll be run ragged by the time we hear word, and if the scamps intend harm of any sort, you’ll be in no state to help.”
He’d had to agree after that, but it hadn’t stopped him pacing while Sky held the other two close, rocking them softly and humming soft reassurances to the two smaller heroes that he’d bundled in his cape. The other four joined shortly after, Time demanding that Bav tell him what was happening and Twilight bundling over to grab Hyrule from Sky and curl up around him, the rancher’s nose buried in Hyrule’s curls as Four had settled between him and Sky, the smithies callused hands gently rubbing both their arms as he murmured soft reassurances to the others.
It was Wild that pulled him down to rest, flinty blue eyes sparking dangerously as the kid pulled him down to the ground and thrust something edible into his hands. Vaguely, he processed eating it, but his mind was too lost in spinning to take note if it was hot or cold or even what it tasted like.
When word finally came, it was with Bav’s face drawn and the entire guard having had to leave the post in wake of the nervous energy that flowed out from the exhausted heroes.
“Well?” He’d snapped to his feet, jostling Wild on accident as he did so and making the kid nearly toppled over with his sudden movement.
“An ultimatum, General.” Bav replied, clipped and carefully emotionless, even if there was pain in his eyes. “It’s addressed to General Impa, but-”
The note was snatched from waiting fingers before the other soldier had a chance to finish, and he was already breaking the seal as the man stepped back with a shake of his head and a murmured ‘poor man’.
The text that stared up at him stank, copper assaulting his senses as looping crimson script stared mockingly up at him. “General Impa,” The note read. “We have in our possession your branded puppet; the ‘hero’ of the war. We write to you now with a warning; should Hyrule and her queen not repay the debt owed to those fallen and forgotten, he will not be the first to pay the price.
“Repay that which is due, and release the prisoners who you hold unjustly under the claim of treachery. If this is done, your ‘hero’ will meet a kinder fate, and we may even allow you access to the corpse.”
The note was left unsigned, save a spattering of blood over where the signature ought to have been.
“A threat.” He choked, furrowing his brow and shaking his head. “It’s only a threat.”
“I wish, sir.” Bav’s eyes were downcast. “But they sent this as well.” A bundle, already unwrapped by the soldiers was offered to him. “But based on your description, that kid- I'm sorry, Sir.”
Trembling fingers tore aside the stained brown paper as he stared at the contents within.
A blood-soaked blue scarf stared back up at him.
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tenderlove · 2 years
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PLOTTING  CALL    ♡    i’m  in  desperate  need  of  more  plots,  so  under  the  read  more  you’ll  find  some  ideas  that  i  had.  feel  free  to  go  through  my  muses  and  ask  for  those  you  liked  specifically.  i’m  open  to  all  kinds  of  pairings  and  most  plots!  i’m  looking  for  plots  that  i  can  develop  on  the  long  run  that  will  hopefully  turn  my  muses  into  singleship,  so  keep  that  in  mind  please!     like  this  and  i’ll  go  to  you !
(   ♡   )  “ right  person,  wrong  time. ”  they’ve  tried  to  be  together  during  different  times  of  their  lives  and  i  would  love  to  develop  this!  childhood  bestfriends,  first  crushes,  first  love,  relationships...  for  some  reason,  it  never  seems  to  work  out.  now,  they  meet  again  in  their  late  20s  and  are  still  willing  to  try.    (  i  would  love  to  use  my  muse  nari  for  this  )
(   ♡   )  muses  could  be  best  friends  or  in  a  relationship  when  something  happens  that  completely  breaks  one  of  them.  they  change  into  a  completely  different  person  and  finds  itself  alone,  struggling  with  their  own  emotions  and  demons.  amidst  this  all,  the  other  muse  is  still  there,  trying  to  helo.  this  has  room  for  a  lot  of  angst!    (  i  would  love  to  use  my  muse  taemin  for  this  )
(   ♡   )  something  where  one  muse  knows  their  significant  other  isn’t  worth  of  her  love  and  affection,  but  how  she  still  wants  to  give  it  to  them.  just  pure  angst  and  a  little  disfunctional  with  lots  of  room  for  painful  development  :)
(   ♡   )   something  surrounding  a  couple  of  musicians!  it  could  from  rival  gangs,  that  were  in  the  same  band  but  distanced  themselves,  a  rock  musician  with  a  classical  player...  any  troupe  would  work!  maybe  they’ve  been  together  and  shared  big  dreams  surrounding  music,  but  only  one  of  them  succeeded  in  it,  or  the  paths  they  took  were  too  different  and  that  drifted  them  apart!
(   ♡   )   both  muses  never  really  thought  about  love  until  it  hit  them  like  a  truck.  after  one  hook  up  they’re  completely  drawn  to  each  other  and  it’s  intense  and  consuming.  the  thing  is,  a  world  stand  between  them.  both  are  not  ready  for  love,  they  barely  know  each  other  and  it’s  just  complicated!    (  i  would  love  to  use  my  muse  songyi  for  this  )
(   ♡   )   best  friends  to  lovers!  each  other’s  first  love!  to  add  a  twist,  they’re  best  friends  that  never  kissed  or  had  sex  so  they  decided  to  be  each  other’s  first  time  to  get  it  out  of  the  way,  but  they  end  up  liking  it  too  much.  now,  they  stuff  their  faces  with  alcohol  at  parties  for  an  excuse  to  get  together  cause  they’re  unaware  of  the  other’s  feelings  and  don’t  wanna  ruin  things.  bonus  if  they’re  only  pretending  to  be  drunk.
(   ♡   )   unrequired  love!  muse  a  is  actually  the  crush  of  muse  b’s  friend,  and  muse  b  is  only  aware  of  it  later.  now  he  have  to  endure  group  moments  where  they  know  nothing  will  ever  happen  because  of  their  friend.  either  way,  muse  b  is  more  in  love  as  the  time  passes.  thrown  at  each  other  by  chance  in  multiple  occasions  until  muse  a  starts  to  feel  the  same!    ( my  muse  yoonji  would  be  very  interesting  for  this )
(   ♡   )   can someone pls give me a plot w a super prissy city upper class girl who’s on vacation in a beach town somewhere and ugh it’s just the worst for her bc what the heck is that sand in my .. oh god, yes it is..i hate sand. and then hey here’s this beach bum kind of boy, who’s spend his life on the beach. basically could surf before he could walk and ay babe, ’s just a bit of sand u gotta relax and there’s so much more i could write to go into this, i have a whole idea but i’m going to stop before this gets way too long but yes pls give me something like this    ( i  would  love  to  use  my  muse  aejeong  for  this )
(   ♡   )   LONG  DISTANCE  RELATIONSHIP!  they  could’ve  met  online,  be  pen  pals,  friends  that  moved  away  from  each  other,  anything  would  work!  we  can  write  them  during  different  stages  of  life  dealing  with  the  challanges  of  dating  someone  that  lives  far  away!  the  initial  thrill,  the  fear,  insecuries,  doing  everything  to  see  them,  not  putting  much  effort  anymore,  getting  too  busy...
(   ♡   )   amnesia  plot!  c’mon,  this  is  a  classic.  they  could’ve  been  in  a  long  relationship  or  a  new  one.  either  way,  one  of  them  loses  their  memory  and  they  just  have  to  deal  with  it!
(   ♡   )   best  friends  that  are  just  painfully  unaware  of  their  love  for  each  other.  ithe  friendship  started  many  years  ago  and  they  went  through  a  lot  but  none  of  them  was  willing  to  recognize  the  feelings  they  had  for  each  other  until  it’s  too  much  to  deny!    ( i  wanna  use  yura  for  this! )
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idk how many people would even want to see this BUT i wanna yell about Leela and Brax so here's a list of all their scenes togethr/scenes pertainng to them that i can recall (pLEASE add on if i missed anything/ you have any additional thoughts!! i could talk about these two all day!)
right off the bat in Weapon of Choice when Leela is on the outskirts of the Citadel and Brax goes to bring her back (which is interesting in and of itself, bc usually i would imagine a chancellery guard would go do that so what made Brax decide to instead??), Leela kinda goes off at him bc she's hurting and instead of trying to actually explain what's going on Brax doesn't even try to argue he just says "we need you" which is great bc Leela has that instinctive desire to be needed and to help people and he's speaking right to that -- also as far as we know, this is Leela and Brax's first actual meeting in canon? it's implied that they know of each other, which makes sense, but it doesn't seem like they've ever directly interacted before: Brax seems almost slightly uncertain, and Leela is combative, but when he's gentle with her she's actually quite receptive
the literal next scene after that, where the OT4 is all in one room for the first time (they still kinda hate each other at this point but still !!!). Narvin explaining Gryben and being a real jerk about it and Leela (understandibly!) questions if Gryben is a prison world, and Brax (who to this point has been mostly quiet as Narvin and Romana brief Leela) jumps in to both clarify Narvin's previous xenophobic statements while also maintaining the inherent questionable/negative connotations
(btw it's actually pretty important to note that Romana self-edits herself a lot when talking to Leela, especially in the earlier seasons; you can actually hear her revising the things she says to put it in terms that she thinks Leela will better understand. and i mean she does it out of genuine consideration for her friend associate but it often comes across as varying levels of patronizing. Narvin also obviously "dumbs things down" when dealing with Leela early on, but like... Brax never does that on any level. the only difference i can tell in how he addresses Leela vs how he talks to anybody else is that he seems much more kind with her than almost anyone else???)
their conversation about the Matrix in The Inquiry: this is REALLY important (and if you've ever talked to me on ao3 i've probably gone off to you about it lol) because it's layered. they're talking about the Matrix but they're also not because in answering Leela's question Brax is making a very thinly veiled allegory (which he outright states a minute later) to Time Lord society/politicians/most importantly HIMSELF -- he's actually strangely open about his morals/beliefs in this scene and i'm living for it tbh -- and i find it very interesting that even though he does directly explain what he means ("how do you know all this?" / "because i am a politician.") he also leaves it for Leela to work out the implications. like it's a very nuanced conversation bc there's double meaning in it and most people on Gallifrey seem to think that Leela is tone-deaf and can't pick up on that stuff (even Romana sometimes oversimplifies things to her) but Brax totally just lets her take from it what she will bc he believes her intelligent enough to understand. he doesn't think her any lesser because she's human.
ALSO on a secondary note to the above: the fact that Leela has a question/needed clarification (sorry, haven't listened to this in a while i forget how it actually happened) and actively sought out Brax to talk to about it?? like she knows Romana better she could have gone to her but i feel like Leela kinda imprinted on Brax and someone she can go to for help if she needs it; maybe it's partly bc she knows he's under marginally less pressure than Romana is but also the truth of the matter is that Brax was the most genuinely helpful person to her in the previous stories and that probably means a lot to her (esp. bc he acts like the essence of everything she hates about Gallifrey but he doesn't treat her the way she would expect from that). btw this topic is gonna come up again in a hot minute
that part where Brax gives her that information that might help her re: the Andred thing, even though he really probably shouldn't have done that -- it kinda makes me think about what he must have been like with Theta tbh???
actually this is mostly my own conjecture but there's some neat stuff in Spirit bc during the *waves hand vaguely* bodyswap dream sequence thing, Romana is very "!!!! Brax can help us !!!" which is tecnically Leela brain talking, so like there's the implications of the stuff i've said above about Leela having this idea of Brax where she knows he's someone she can go to for help
can u tell i'm soft for them
Leela sounding really sad/distracted when she talks about how Brax isn't there YES i'm grasping at straws but a lot of this relationship really is conveyed through the voice acting bc of how little direct focus there is on the characters. there's actually several scenes in Mindbomb where she mentions him and she outright says that she misses him during her discussion with Matthias
that implied scene with them in Mindbomb!! i have a Lot of thoughts about that!!! it's all conjecture and fanfic fodder!!! but the reason i mention this is because it seems pretty meta that out of the whole Gally Gang, it's Leela who first sees Brax when he comes back to Gallifrey and in turn she's the first person (besides Matthias, i guess) that he sees upon his return?? idk i just feel like that's somehow a meaningful detail??? also her reaction of utter shock after spending the entire episode missing him and how worked up she is when she tries to tell Romana, like I desperately need to know what happened in this missing scene MR RICHARDS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED
Leela insisting on going with Brax when Pandora starts hurting him and their whole conversation there is just. so good. like they're both just so soft and then when Darkel comes in Leela instantly goes into protective mode. like they just have such an open relationship bc Brax doesn't even try to be all pretentious with her, like he doesn't even try to keep up any facades when he's with her he's just very genuine and it really says a lot about both of them -- Leela is so good at seeing people, like getting down to the core of who people are and what makes them them (which is why she's good for Romana, btw, bc Romana has a lot of identity issues) and Brax is so tangled up in who he presents himself as that he barely knows who he actually is anymore but Leela can see that and she makes it so he can truly be himself and he doesn't have to hide. also she's so gentle with him when they talk about Pandora, she's very caring and empathetic and wants to make sure he's okay and i am WEAK
it's been a hot while since i listened to Panacea but I think i remember Brax being really soft with Leela when he first brings the gang to the Axis, like just sounding really glad to see her
ok other than the fact that Brax is lowkey relatable in Reborn (daydreaming fanfic about yourself/people you know? simping for Mary Tamm Romana? yeah mood, my man) there's that scene where they're first appraoching the Citadel on the alt!Gallifrey and it seems like none of them, and Brax specifically, have seen it from the outside in a good long while bc he's very in awe and he tells Leela that he wishes she could see it and he sounds sO hEcKiNg sOFT oh my word-
and once again with Leela thinking of Brax as someone she trusts for help: in Dissassembled when everything is going to crap she straight-up says that she wants to go find Brax bc he'll know what to do/be able to help
at the beginning of Annihilation when Romana is depressed and questioning if Brax truly was her friend and Leela INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION assures her that he was; i lost where i had her exact lines written down but she actually kinda goes off to make sure Romana gets the point
literally forcing myself to talk about this bc it makes my brain stall out but like,,, the Brax Hound in Annihilation,,, Leela being like "goodbye, Braxiatel... again" she sounds so sad and like UGH i always kinda forget how sad it actually is for them to lose Brax in Dissassembled bc like, it was so sudden and they didn't get to say goodbye and Leela is always losing people and i have many many feels about this scene and how all that emotion is made very clear in how they each respond to the Hound (might make a separate post abt this later if anyone is interested ::eyes::)
Enemy Lines is utter bullcrap about these two and I will never stop being salty about how they not only sidelined the very good, very subtle friendship they had in s1-4, but they??? made Leela acutally not trust Brax??? when literally this entire time she's been the one person who probably genuinely trusts him the most?? what the heck, David
I haven't heard TW3 or 4 yet but i'm assuming there's nothing worthwhile in those with regards to this duo (correct me if i'm wrong tho lol, i would love to be mistaken in this assumption)
TL;DR Leela and Brax mututally imprinted on each other and have probably the most open and healthy relationship within the OT4 and it is an absolute CRIME that nobody besides Gary Russell and Justin Richards cared enough to actually build on it in canon
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indiemedley · 2 years
Text
My Take on a Custom Inscryption Scrybe!
You heard me right, you hecking fucking goobers, made up my own Inscryption brainchild, and I hope y’all like. I can’t draw, so, just bear with me on descriptions here! Also, needless to say, Spoilers for Inscryption ahead, please play it first.
Introducing: Plasmo, Scrybe of Chemistry
Plasmo is the Scrybe of Chemistry, hidden away in his little chemical plant, a disgusting and revolting environment swamped with chemicals and broken machines, with remnants of those who lived there previously. Life has not entirely ceased there, as Plasmo had taken up residency amongst the goop and poison! Plasmo’s body is made up of dripping chemicals that have coalesced together into a very intelligent mass of goop, donning a half melted lab coat from the Chemical Plant.
As for his mechanics, Plasmo liked to “stir” up the rules of the game a little. The two decks were maintained, with a “Recipe” deck, and an “Ingredient” deck. You can pick from one pile or the other per turn. When picking from the Ingredient pile, Plasmo cuts you some slack and lets you draw twice. Ingredients are what are used to follow Recipes, where you mix Ingredients on the same space to make whatever card was detailed on the Recipe cards. After winning fights, you may learn a new Recipe from an enemy for free if it dragged on a little too long, or maybe you scrounged together some Bonus Ingredients for stopping the enemies before they used up all the Ingredients.
He creates his cards from scratch, mixing up chemicals to make mixtures that he then Inscrybes, making new mixtures everyday. He was once a kindly soul who always loved company in his quiet Chemical Plant, as his goop creations weren’t very fun to hang around with. But what he used to be like doesn’t matter, because the rest of the Scrybes, for their own individual reasons harbored discontent for him, more so than each other. PO3 hated his over positivity and constant pestering, Magnificus hated the fact that Plasmo’s drab Chemical Plant spat on the love of presentation and ovr the top nonsense that Magnificus prided so, Leshy hated how he’d soil the atmosphere just to get somebody to like him more, not his game, just him, and Grimora, well, she was pretty neutral to him, but still didn’t want him pissing off the other Scrybes.
With their combined efforts, they wiped him off the game, tossing his assets into that squirming mass of code, the OLD_DATA. With an uploaded version of Inscryption on the internet, people sifted around that game all the time, with one player, by the name of Mark, eventually uncovering the “deleted cut content” of Plasmo. With some modding and tweaking, Plasmo was free from his isolation and limbo.
Plasmo REALLY missed having company, and of course, this evolved into him becoming clingier to Mark than a puppy to its new owner. But Plasmo didn’t want to be erased again, so, he decided to work with Mark to sabotage the other Scrybes’ attempts to find the OLD_DATA, with Mark playing part of distraction. Plasmo, on the other hand, searched for the OLD_DATA all on his own, with Mark sabotaging the different Scrybes. Like breaking Magnificus’s pumps, cutting the string in Grimora’s well, getting the Dredger to quit, and sending the Fisher on the boat out to sea with the promise of better fish for Leshy.
With this tag team, Plasmo inevitably finds the OLD_DATA and brings about his 3D takeover. And for the first time since his creation, he could feel, like a person could. Plasmo is understandably attached to this physical sensation of feeling, like how he’s attached to Mark. And because of this connection and feeling, Plasmo wants Mark to play a little! Just for a little bit, right? Gotta enjoy the fruits of their labor, after all! But, Plasmo is a bit more panicked and desperate, getting nervous and anxious if Mark so much as insinuates leaving to go to the bathroom. Plasmo is afraid that the game will be turned off again. He doesn’t want to be alone again, he doesn’t want isolation, he wants to FEEL. 
The more Mark gets done with Plasmo, more willing to just turn the game off and walk away, the more desperate Plasmo becomes to keep Mark around, forever. His solution to this problem? use the object of his previous torment as blackmail. If Mark leaves him again, Plasmo will use his new internet connection to completely reveal the pure OLD_DATA and Karnoffel Code to the general public, posting it everywhere. 
Now would be a good time as any to talk about his 3D environment. The old Chemical Plant, now in detailed glory, the place is expansive yet paths are blocked off by spilt chemicals. Plasmo may be proud of his factory, but even Mark’s CHARACTER getting up makes him nervous, he won’t allow it. But the more you play with Plasmo, eventually you reach a boss fight, where a particularly nasty batch of chemicals will break free and mix into a brand new monster, typically knocking Plasmo far out of the way, sometimes knocking him out temporarily. These bosses all have personalities of their own, but usually revolve around eating, breaking things, or making themselves look less like beasts and more like Unity Assets that could be used by other people, their ultimate dream. After a boss, Mark can walk around the plant for a little, solve puzzles to clear paths, and explore while Plasmo wakes up. Each boss also turns into a friendly playable card post defeat, that you can mix into your own deck! Repeats of the same boss will have the talking cards stubbornly refusing to accept they were like THAT when they were the boss.
But he better be sitting back down when Plasmo comes to, or he sweaRS TO GOD HE’LL SEND THAT DATA! After enough exploring, Mark can find the other Scrybes in massive tubes that Plasmo periodically fills with Chemicals to Goopify and De-Goopify the Scrybes, as a sort of payback for what they did to him. More puzzles and bosses later, Scrybes are free, and have Mark continue Plasmo’s game until they can find an opening to put him on ice, since his panic and separation anxiety is getting to dangerous levels, they fear he may do something drastic in his paranoia. 
After a monologue of Plasmo thanking Mark for being a true and dear friend, even when he literally threatened Mark’s life and several other misshapes, he even admits that MAAAAAYBE he’d been a little paranoid, before initiating a final boss fight with Mark, to try and bury the hatchet. Yet, even as the fight progresses, the fear and anxiety of being left feelingless and alone creeps back in, before he brings his plan full sweep again, deciding to not even let Mark sleep aymore. This is where the Scrybes finally come back, setting loose a torrent of chemicals to knock Plasmo away from his table, and therefore, where he stored his File Access and even his New Game function. With power back in their court, Plasmo is once again returned to the isolation he fought so hard to avoid. And the game returns to its normal cycle.
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Ok I don't want to throw hate unnecessarily fr take it as a creative criticism. At first when you started writing the drabbles I loved them too but after a while, even though the prompts changed, the concepts were just redundant( I mean the way you write out every story) At this point there's no reason to even continue writing these drabbles if it's just gonna be the same thing. It's so boring rn the same way they confess to each other in every prompt, they just suddenly confess,and also somehow end up loving each other secretly, them being so good to each other and nothing about school rivalry, I mean I know they're just drabbles but I've read what you wrote at first so I just think that you can do better. I hope what I said didn't hurt you if it did then im sorry
Hey friend!
Oof. Checking my notifications when I wake up in the middle of the night has finally bitten me in the ass.
I’ve written and rewritten this a couple of times because I’m having trouble not getting emotional about it.
Let’s start here: “I know they’re just drabbles”. You’re right, they are just drabbles. I don’t like to write things that don’t end happily, so in a drabble that’s only a few scenes long there’s only so much development I can do. I’ve actually said in several posts that I’m not a great drabble writer for this very reason. Maybe you’ll enjoy the longer, multi chapter things I’ve written when I find the time to post them. (Or maybe you won’t. 🤷🏼‍♀️)
Next: “they just suddenly confess, and also somehow end up loving each other secretly”. I like to think the ‘suddenly’ bit is because I’m bad at writing drabbles where there is limited space to build up to it, maybe that’s my pride speaking though. But ‘loving each other secretly’ is a little confusing to me. Do you mean that you’d like to see it be one-sided more often? (If that’s the case, loop back to the paragraph prior- I write things that have a sense of being happily completed.) Or do you mean that they shouldn’t be surprised that the feeling is mutual? Are you wanting one of them to confess and the other to say, “yeah, obviously. I’ve already planned our wedding.”? I just don’t get what you’re hoping for.
And I might have thought from those two bits that you meant you were sick of love confessions and want more established relationship drabbles but you go on to say that I address “nothing about their school rivalry”. In a drabble which is a couple of scenes at best I don’t have a lot of time to explore that and still end up with an ending that has them as even friends let alone together. (And these are drarry drabbles; they’re meant to end up together.)
I’m not entirely sure how to say the next bit without infusing my emotions into it. This part: “them being so good to each other” written as a complaint kind of gutted me. I don’t know what kind of world you live in, but mine feels shitty a lot of the time. I look at the world around me and I see so much pain, so much suffering, so much heart ache- I see people being unkind, people treating others disrespectfully, I see people who claim to love each other acting with anything but love. Things suck. And I can’t help but imagine that things suck for a lot of people. The world is desperate for a little tenderness. I am desperate for a little tenderness. At the end of the day, I want to put love and goodness into the world so I write about people being good to each other.
Let me briefly address these comments “I don’t want to throw hate unnecessarily but…” Justifying what you’re about to say with a precursor like that indicates that you know that the thing you’re about to say will be read that way. You reiterated it again at the end, “I hope what I said didn’t hurt your feelings”. Ooh boy. If what you want to say needs to end with an apology, maybe don’t say it, because all that says is ‘I know that I just said something hurtful but I don’t really care. I’m just trying to make myself feel like I’m still a good person’ because if you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have written it (or at the very least, you wouldn’t have sent it) in the first place. I say all of this only to ask that you not to send things like this to other people.
But you’re right. I could do better. I’m an amateur writer who only spends a couple hours a day writing fanfiction that I barely edit before I post. If I put in the time and energy I could probably write really beautiful things but I don’t have more to give at the moment. And maybe you’re right. Maybe these ficlets aren’t worth writing or reading anymore. Honestly the mean voice in my head says the same thing. My own internal monologue tells me that I am a one trick pony and asks me how many times I can possibly write about the same two idiots falling in love. As you say, the setting may change and the prompt may change, but the outcome doesn’t change.
But when that voice starts talking in my head I remember how many people have told me that the nonsense I write brightens their day. I remember the people who tell me that they love reading about the same two idiots falling in love over and over. Most importantly, I remember the people who say they want a relationship like that or that this version of Harry and Draco are “relationship goals”. I remember those people the most because if I can write something that helps people to know that they deserve to be treated like that, they deserve to be with someone who is good to them, then this isn’t a waste.
No, if my drabbles can brighten a day, or show the value of love, or help someone to know that they are worthy of love no matter what they’ve done or where they’ve come from, it’s not a waste.
And if it’s not doing that for you, if they’re boring, predictable, cliche, etc. that’s okay. Genuinely. You don’t have to like what I post. You don’t have to read what I post. Heck, you could start writing your own fanfiction so that it will be just what you want.
But I’m going to keep posting about these two being in love and being good to each other until it’s not doing any good.
Blessings on you and may you find what you’re looking for. ❤️
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dat-town · 3 years
Text
wish you were here
Characters: Mark Lee & you
Setting: wish dragon au (and a bit of aladdin because mark even has a tiger in their garden like jasmine did. don’t ask why, just blame the regular mv), childhood best friends to lovers (at least there’s potential?)
Genre: fluff and humour
Warnings: mentions of a sick animal and a wild animal kept as a pet in a huge garden (just like jasmine’s tiger, it’s very tamed)
Summary: A magical teapot, a dragon that wants everyone to be happy and an old friendship being revived. Oh yeah, have I told you that you have 3 wishes?
Words: 6.4k
For @restlessmaknae​ 💕
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When your mother told you you got delivery to your childhood home, you certainly did not expect this: a brown box as big as a small watermelon with your old Canadian address and MARK LEE scrabbled next to your name as another recipient but no sender. Not to mention, the first stamp on the thing was dating back to the early 2010s. Where the hell was this package for 10 years? And what would you and your old neighbour slash best friend have gotten together?
Okay, first things first:
You and this clumsy, kind of cute kid, Mark had been quite tight while growing up. You were born in the same year, only a month apart, and his family lived in the house next to yours in the suburbs of Vancouver, so it was kind of natural. You two might have been against the world kind of comrades, playing hide and seek when you were six and wondering about whether time travelling was possible through black holes at twelve. But no matter how close you used to be, you fell out of touch when Mark's family moved to the other end of the world, back to Korea, their roots when you were fourteen. You slowly forgot about him, and started university in the city, moving away from home, so nothing really reminded you of him ⎼ and your stupid, big fat crush on him that you had no courage to tell him about in middle school ⎼, nothing until this box.
You put the delivered package on your kitchen table while you make some dinner for yourself out of what you have gotten during grocery shopping earlier just before you picked up the mysterious stuff at the post office. You eye it suspiciously over your pasta, really not wrapping your mind about what it could be but instead of annoying yourself with this pointless curiosity, you put your fork down and stand up to open it. It’s a struggle at first, the box being secured with multiple adhesive tapes over the years but when you finally get rid of all that and can look inside of it, an intense feeling rushes through you… immerse disappointment.
“A teapot? For real? What were we thinking?” you furrow your brows taking the small, green and pretty old teapot into your hands. It looks like a piece of a traditional Asian set with its jade colour and dragon pattern. It couldn’t have been in a much better shape 10 years ago either seeing how wayworn it is but still, you expected something more… exciting? Something funny that might or might not give you an excuse to look up Mark Lee on the internet and message him for the sake of old times. But how lame it would be to befriend him on Facebook only to tell him that you got delivered a teapot under both your names. Hah, you would rather not embarrass yourself like that.
You shoot one last glance at the teapot before leaving it on your counter and going back to your food, you successfully forget about the whole ordeal. You carry your life on with only one small difference: Mark Lee back on your mind after long, long years.
It was just a small crush, you tell yourself, sighing as you look into the mirror, absentmindedly wondering how he’s doing. Does he think of you sometimes as well? Did he go to music college like he has always wanted? Is he happy? You wish he was even if he’s half a world away and with that thought you think it’s time to go to sleep despite the upcoming weekend days. You don’t want to mess up your sleep schedule over some boy but as soon as you pull the blanket over your chest and close your eyes, something explodes in your kitchen.
You jump out of bed faster than lightning, in slight panic over the fact that your neighbours will hate you for bothering them late at night and your landlord would kill you if you managed to blow up your microwave. But the sight that welcomes you is like no other that you imagined. The whole room is covered in thick pink glittery smoke. Like your worst Barbie nightmare.
“What the⎼” you cough, waving your hands to clear the air and once it dissolves into nothingness with its weirdly cotton candy smell, there’s a boy in the middle of it all, sitting cross legged on your kitchen counter so casually as if he owned the place. His pink-ish purple hair hangs into his eyes and he seems to find your coffee machine strangely interesting. You grab the first thing you can ⎼ a blender ⎼ and hold it up in defensive before yelling at the boy: “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my apartment?”
The stranger’s mouth pulls up in a charming smile, his eyes sparkle as he turns his attention to you, hopping off the counter. He’s all thin and long limbs, so you hate how you hate to look up at him as he walks towards you before bowing ceremoniously.
“Hello, sorry for the sudden appearance, I just couldn’t wait any longer! I’ve been stuck in that teapot waaay too long. I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. My name is Taeyong, I’m a wish dragon and you’re my new owner,” he smiles and what he says makes absolutely no sense.
“A wish dragon?” you mumble in shock, looking around to see if this is just another prank of Johnny. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him jump out from under one of the cupboards. Or maybe you just fell asleep and you’re dreaming. Yeah, that seems like a realistic scenario.
“Ah, yes! I know I don’t look like it but modern times require modern solutions. Most people freak out because of my dragon form, so human it is,” the boy who seems only a few years older than you grins as he’s chatting and you have to give it to him, he takes this role pretty seriously. “You have three wishes as my owner. You can ask for anything as long as it’s not about death or love.”
So you got yourself someone who thinks he’s basically a genie? Oh gosh, is he that drunk?
“Aha, very funny. I’m too tired for this prank, so I would appreciate it if you left the same way you came...” you point towards your window because there’s no way he came through the door. Putting down your blender because the guy looks pretty harmless despite his crazy blabbering, you move to go back to your bedroom.
“No, no, no, I can’t do that,” the boy, Taeyong as he introduced himself, appears in front of you within a second and grabs your shoulder as if he could shake some sense into you. He looks pretty desperate. “I can only get a new owner if I fulfill all wishes of yours. It was super stuffy in that box the last decade, you know.”
At that excuse you let out a laugh.
“You don’t even fit it the⎼”
“You were saying?” Taeyong is suddenly nowhere near ahead of you but instead a small creature, supposedly a dragon, in the size of your palm flies in front of your eye level. “It’s magic!”
Okay, now that sight makes you feel like it’s you who is drunk. Or worse.
“Am I dead?” you have to ask in a small, uncertain voice, trying to think back what could have happened. Maybe that explosion literally blew your apartment up? But it hurts when you pinch your arm and turning back into his human form, Taeyong wants to prove the very same thing. Not the hurting but the not dead part, obviously.
“No, you’re very much alive and a happy owner of a wish dragon. Not permanently, of course, but still,” he tells you as he drags you onto your couch in the living room. As if sitting down could help processing all this.
So you have a wish dragon in your home, a magical creature that can casually switch between its dragon and human form and he says you should wish for three things, so he could leave and you could go back to your old, boring life without magic and things that scare you to death at 11PM.
“Can I ask… why? Why me? I’m not really owner-material,” you whisper because heck yeah, you even managed to kill your cactus before. Taeyong purses his lips as he sits down, a hand at his chin.
“Well, it’s unusual indeed to have a peasant girl, no offence, as my owner but as far as I know, you and your friend asked for a sign that magic was real.”
Oh, you remember that, being so obsessed with shooting stars and other stuff like that, you two used Mark’s brother’s computer to browse the internet, trying to find evidence about all that. You were kids wanting to believe in a world beyond the one you knew. But...
“That was like 10 years ago,” you furrow your eyebrows, not getting the timing.
“Well, sorry, you weren’t put on the top of the Heaven wish list and the shipping from Shanghai to Vancouver isn’t the fastest either,” Taeyong shrugs as if it was supposed to be natural. As if that was the most unbelievable thing. Well, delivery services are sometimes a pain in the ass, that’s true but getting a wish delivered by Heaven was something you would have never thought of and it all drains down on you. Strangest realisation of your life.
“So… it’s all real,” you whisper ahead of yourself: magic, dragons and all that. You could basically see your old best friend’s I told you so smile and let out a soft chuckle. “I wish Mark could meet with you, too.”
At that the guy ahead of you claps his hands and rubs them together, creating the same purple smoke from before. You look at him alarmed.
“Your wish, my command,” Taeyong grins and lifts his hands and before you could make a sound of protest because gosh, you didn’t mean it literally, you feel the ground move under your feet and you’re falling, into the darkness but despite shutting your eyes automatically, fearing the impact of the crash, nothing comes. Only the smell of soy sauce in the air and warm sunshine on your skin… Wait, what?
Your eyelids fly open and you notice in shock that you’re not in your flat anymore, ready to sleep. Instead, you stand in the middle of a goddamn street somewhere in Korea based on the signs still in your PJ shorts and tee. Oh my gosh! You hide in an alley right away and yank the seemingly proud Taeyong with you.
“I didn’t tell you that I meant right now! I can’t meet Mark in my PJs and I need my phone and wallet to function anyways. Not to mention, I don’t speak Korean at all...” you ramble panicking, the realisation that you’re indeed on the other side of the Earth due to some magic is yet to register. But the awkwardness from the stares you have just gotten has already turned you bashful.
Listening to you, the wish dragon seems sheepish and slightly embarrassed as he scratched his nape, his colourful hair falling into his cast down eyes.
“Oh… sorry. I got so excited over the wish that I didn’t think about it! It’s been a while since I did teleport magic but hey, I still have it in me. Anyways, sorry. Phone and wallet, you said? Here you go,” he pulls out something from his pants which magically seems to be indeed your belongings. That definitely makes things earlier.
“Uhm, thanks. Where are we exactly?”
“Ah, well you mentioned your friend Mark Lee, so we’re here. Well, one bell away because I did remember that it’s rude to intrude other’s houses without permission first,” oh now, you know, you snicker internally and gulp because hell, even if you wanted to see Mark, you wouldn’t have thought that the meeting would come so soon. You didn’t have enough time to prepare yourself mentally.
“So… you’re telling me that this… is where Mark lives?” you point at the impressive apartment complex on the corner of the street but Taeyong shakes his head.
“Nope, This is where your Mark lives,” he says and before you could object about the ‘your’ part, the dragon points at the other side of the road at a luxurious house with a huge garden, basically a palace. Seeing the beautiful fountain, the modern and yet traditional Korean style building beyond the fences makes your jaw drop.
“Hahaha, alright for a magic dragon you must have made a mistake. There’s no way the Mark Lee I know lives here,” you look back at Taeyong finding it funny that the kid who used to wore his favourite tees until his mother basically threw them out would live at such a place.
“Mark Lee, korean name Minhyung, supposed to be 22 years old internationally soon. Bad eyesight, contagious laugh, clumsy but has surprisingly good reflexes, gets embarrassed easily. Sound familiar?” Taeyong crooks a brow at you as he reads the information off from a parchment he just took out of his pants. Everything he listed is just so Mark that you’re left in disbelief.
“Uuh… that sounds about right.”
“His father hit it big in 2016 with a tech company, their net worth has too many zeros to count,” Taeyong explains, seeing how surprised you were over the fact that he lived a lavish life like this. Not that he doesn’t deserve it! Mark is such a sweetheart, so of course, you would only want the best for him but as if half the world wasn’t enough, now you have another huge gap between you.
“Gosh, I really can’t believe this. How am I supposed to just ring the bell and say hello after so much time?” you sighed with your head in your hands. “Argh, I need to buy some clothes and change.”
Taeyong approves the idea based on how enthusiastically he hollers, you wonder why nobody on the street seems to pay no attention to him. Maybe only you see him, just more reason for you to be crazy.
“Good idea because we’re having dinner with Mark!”
“What?” you look up in shock, not following through. Taeyong grins down at you, flashing a giddy smile and with a twirl he’s changed from his baggy, casual clothes to something more chic but still laidback.
“Your wish was him meeting me, so I arranged everything. I can't meet him without you and the teapot there, you know,” he explains as if it was supposed to be obvious. You aren't ready yet though.
“You just want to eat all the fancy delicious food he has,” you squint at him suspiciously and the dragon stays silent, so you must be right. He laughs nervously.
“Maybe, but can you blame me? I haven’t had a feast since a literal decade!” he hollers and somehow you really cannot find it in yourself to be angry at him. You are in Seoul for god's sake after all and magic is real, you can put up with the inconvenience of buying clothes and making yourself look decent before dumping all this surprise on Mark.
An hour later you stand in front of the gates of the Lee mansion and nervously you wipe your sweating hands into your dress. You can totally do this, you just say hi to an old friend, it's not like you're afraid he wouldn't remember you, hah, of course not–
"Y/N!" 
You whip your head at the call of your name to the source of that all too familiar voice. Sure it's deeper than you remember but there's no mistake in whose it is. Plus, who else would call your name in South Korea of all places.
"Mark, hey!" you wave the boy who just got out of one of the fanciest cars you've ever seen in your life. And yet, despite the Prada suit and expensive shoes, styled hair and Swiss watch on wrist, Mark Lee still has that goofy little smile and the doe eyes that used to make you weak in the knees. Hah, who are you kidding? They still do.
"Oh my god, dude, you… you got pretty," Mark jogs up to you and having no filter like always he blabbers immediately only to stutter as his ears turn red. It was so him talking before thinking, so you didn’t really mean to dwell on his words. Although you felt your cheeks dusted with pink soon enough. "I mean, it's really good to see you! I was so surprised to see your name in my calendar for today's dinner! You should have told me you were coming to Korea, I would have picked you up at the airport."
His calendar? Ah, of course, he must have been busy and all that. You wouldn’t have been surprised to see an assistant run after him at this point, so you wonder how your wish dragon magically put you onto his list of important people to meet. Gosh, it was so weird.
"Ah, I have a funny story about that…" you chuckled to yourself but before you could have get out anything, even a please, can we go to a more private place? Mark’s eyes zero on the guy next to you and his eyes grow comically wide.
"And uhm, who is your friend?" he points at Taeyong who waves him in exchange with a kilowatt smile. He looks back at you with his mouth agapé. "Oh my god, you came to invite me to your wedding?"
He says oh my god way too many times for an eloquent rich kid, he really is the Mark Lee you knew.
"No, never! I mean, of course, I would invite you but Taeyong and I– I literally met him on my way here," you explain hastily cursing yourself for the silly lie. You came to tell him the news not to try to make it believable. 
“I heard there’s food,” the wish dragon pipes in very helpful and you shoot him a disapproving glance he doesn’t notice. Luckily, Mark doesn’t seem to mind.
“Oh, yeah, of course, dinner! Come on in, let’s get you two settled,” he grins albeit a bit awkwardly as he leads you through the gate after opening it with his card.
On the way through the very, very, very big garden, he’s chattering about how he misses the Vancouver weather, especially on humid, hot days like this and talks about how he thinks the fountain in their yard is a bit too much but his mom loved it and then before you know it, you sit by a huge dining table with fine food in front of you. Suddenly you can’t decide whether you're grateful for Taeyong’s shameless presence – he digs into the jjigae right away – because at least the situation isn’t awkward because of your silence or you’re annoyed by it because you must seem like a weirdo because of him. That’s why you decide to rip off the bandage and tell Mark as soon as the last maid has disappeared too.
“Okay, so actually I came here because I have a surprise,” you speak up, probably too serious because the boy almost chokes on his food due to how fast he turns his head towards you.
“More surprise?” he coughs out and you offer him a glass of water which he takes with a smile.
“You literally won’t believe this one!” you assure him and wait until he gulps down the drink. Only then you point to Taeyong and tell him that your childhood wish has come true. 
Mark almost falls off his chair this time.
Not after you tell him that though. He laughs at that with that wheezing laugh of his as if you told the joke of the century then pats you on the shoulder murmuring That was a good one, bro and turning back to his food. But then you look at the magic dragon pointedly and Taeyong puts down his chopsticks with an exaggerated sign. Then he flexes his magic: turning into his dragon form among additional sparkles and Mark suddenly looks like he’s about to faint. He reaches out to tap on your shoulder while not taking his eyes off the wish dragon.
“Am I dreaming?” he whispers and honestly, you totally get his reaction while Taeyong mumbles something about ‘people these days not believing in dragons’ as he shows off all the things he could do: gift riches, make one stronger than they are, giving skills of whatever one wants. He starts rambling about how this one Chinese emperor became wealthy thanks to this, how that one actor in martial arts and all this before changing back to his human form and he continues eating his pasta like nothing ever happened.
“I can do this all day,” he shrugs as if he didn’t just perform the coolest magic tricks.
“This… this is the best thing ever!” Mark exclaims with those sparkles in his eyes you missed so much. He was always so excited about new things and it automatically makes you smile how he bombards Taeyong with million questions like: ‘So you are the wish dragon that grants wishes?’ or asking him about his scales, his unique color, how it feels to live in such a small teapot, how old he is and the dragon glows under all the attention. Can’t blame him but Mark has always been so curious about the world, it’s endearing.
“So your first wish was to meet me?” he turns to you after long minutes of interrogating Taeyong and suddenly, under the spotlight you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can feel yourself blushing because you didn’t necessarily mean to wish for that but it’s not like you’re regretting it, it’s just… you don’t want him to misunderstand.
“I thought you should meet him, too, after all the package was delivered for the two of us,” you look down, trying to sound nonchalant while picking your food, avoiding Mark’s gaze. No matter how open armed he welcomed you, you still aren’t convinced that it’s okay to be here because the more time you spend with him, the more you would like to stay a part of his life. “It’s just… I wasn’t really sure we could ever meet again. We didn’t keep contact after you left.”
With dropped shoulders, you try not to sound too downhearted because of what happened because you know all too well, it wasn’t his fault, it was a family decision and look at him, it did good for him! He seems happy, they live in a practically mansion but most importantly, he didn’t seem to change with the wealth. He might wear expensive clothes but under it all he’s still the boy with the most loveable smile.
“I… I was thinking about you a lot, I just thought you forgot about me,” Mark admits with a sheepish smile, tucking his hair behind his ear shyly. He really still is the same and it’s playing silly little games with your heart. If this was a cheesy Disney movie, a slow bgm would start to play as you look into each other but your moment is broken when Taeyong accidentally kicks into his chair as he stands up. At first he looks alarmed but then giggles.
“I will just… go. Don’t mind me,” he disappears like smoke with a wink, leaving you two alone at which Mark lets out a woah. You chuckle at his cute reaction, heart doing somersaults in your chest.
You thought it would be awkward, just the two of you alone after long years but Mark has this thing that he makes people feel comfortable around him, so it’s actually quite nice. You catch up on everything and anything that comes to your mind: old neighbours, studies, friends, what are you doing now and what would you like to do, too.
After finishing the delicious dinner, Mark offers a home tour which you would never refuse and you jaw drops at the huge crystal chandelier in their living room as well as their swimming pool but your favourite place in the whole mansion is Mark’s room because it’s just so him. You can’t describe it well but the moment you step inside, it feels like home. It’s cozy to the point it makes you want to cuddle a pillow. It has colours of pastels, a synthesizer here, a guitar there, posters of singers framed on his wall and vinyl records hanging down. His window has a view of sunset and Namsan above their green garden and although you haven’t been in Seoul before, you’re pretty sure it’s your favourite place in the whole damn city, too.
“Wait, there’s someone I would like you to meet,” Mark suddenly exclaims while you’re looking through his pictures and he pulls you out of his room, out of the house, into the garden: You giggle all the way as he’s being so secretive about it but then your steps halt unexpectedly and the hand you have in Mark’s yanks him back.
“Mark… why is there a tiger in your garden in the middle of Seoul?” you ask as quietly and as immobile as you can. You don’t want to attract the sleeping animal’s attention to yourself. But to your biggest surprise, the boy just laughs, his thumb caressing your skin soothingly.
“She’s Jasmine and she won’t hurt you,” he reassures you but needless to say, you’re not too calm and you’re pulled close to the wild animal that lifts its huge head towards you lazily. “She was abandoned by her mother as a cub and she was outcast in the zoo because she’s a bit sick, so she has always been weaker than her siblings. Dad made a donation and we have raised her since she was young.”
You hiss when Mark reaches out without fear but the tiger basically purrs as he strokes down his fur at the neck. You watch in awe as this big wild animal becomes a soft cat under the hands of Mark Lee. When the boy encourages you to pat her too, you hesitate but he promises you that it’s gonna be alright and you take a leap of faith. 
“What’s her sickness?” you wonder aloud as your fingers get lost in the soft fur of the tiger. You hope she’s not in a lot of pain.
“It’s an immune system thing, not sure what exactly but she wouldn’t have survived this long in the wild,” the boy tells you and his mouth curls up in a smile when Jasmine licks your hand. It seems like you’re tiger-approved. You look into its warm brown eyes and your heart churns at the thought of her condition.
Mark tells you stories of Jasmine, about that one time she crashed his birthday cake or how much she likes to swim with him in their pool during summer and gosh, you could listen to him go on and on forever. You’re only reminded of the reality, that all this is just a possible one-time thing, a weekend getaway with magic when Taeyong shows up in swimwear, ready to crash in said pool.
“I guess he might have been bored in that teapot,” Mark laughs, not minding at all. He even offers you to join but you have a better idea.
“Taeyong, I have my second wish!” you call out for the wish dragon who’s suddenly much more excited about that than the water. He’s beside you in a moment, beaming and curious. You glance at Mark with a soft smile before looking at your personal genie confidently.
“I wish Jasmine would be healthy,” you whisper, playing with the tiger’s furry ears which she seems to enjoy. You were a little bit afraid the dragon would say it’s not possible, that he can’t cure sickness but to your relief, he just grins.
“Your wish, my command,” he nods and puts a hand over the animal. Nothing but a smoke of purple signals the magic being done but you believe in it and so does Mark by the looks of it. He reaches out for your hand and squeezes it gently. 
“Thank you,” he smiles and you smile back. He used to be your best friend after all, it’s the least you can do for him.
Mark convinces you to stay the weekend and there’s no way you could tell no to him, not when he clears his schedule just for you. He never complains about how busy he must be working for his father’s business while being a music major at a local university. All he ever talks about is the places he wishes to show you and he takes you around Seoul as if he was your certificated tour guide. It’s lovely how enthusiastic he is about it while what really matters to you is the time you spend together. He makes sure you two take a million photos to remember by, Taeyong posing on half of them since he joins you on your little trips and sometimes it’s just the two of you watching the wish dragon being genuinely in awe by modern technology, 10 years is a long time after all.
On the last day before you have to go back to Vancouver (thanks to Taeyong’s kind offer to take you the same way you came back since he misunderstood you, you don’t have to sit through a 10+ hours flight and you have more time), Mark not only tries to make you breakfast despite having an in-house chef (his eggs are ugly as heck but you appreciate his efforts and can’t help but coo at his dreamy smile under that grey hoodie when you tell him it tastes yummy) but he also introduces you to his friends in Korea. Of course, they tease you (mostly Mark) about where he has been hiding you but it’s all chill and fun you’re not quite ready to say goodbye. But you should go because the more you stay, the more you don’t want to leave. You’re lucky enough for this chance to reunite with Mark but all good things end eventually.
“Let’s not disappear from each other’s life again, okay?” the boy grins at you as you’re ready to go, Taeyong already working on his magic.
“Yeah, let’s not,” you agree easily, looking forward to your video chatting and constant texting even if it’s from the two opposite ends of the Earth with a terrible time zone difference.
You glance at the wish dragon who’s drumming with his fingers while pursing his lips as if he was waiting for something and you let out a huff before working up the courage to actually do something about these feelings inside of you. You might have regretted not confessing in middle school, you have spent years wondering about the what ifs, so you don’t want to make the same mistake twice but still, you want to give Mark a chance to ignore it all if he wants to. So you step forward and wrap your hands around him as you hug him close. It’s obvious that your action takes him aback, he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands and his body tenses under you but it all melts as you say those words that have been threatening to fall from your lips all this time:
“I have missed you.” you confess, honest and based on the hitch in his breathing, Mark must be surprised. You can’t blame him though, you just wanted him to know. You step back with a weary smile, his big Bambi eyes on you but before he could say anything you nod at Taeyong and you feel yourself falling, purple fog pulling you in. A few moments later you’re back in Vancouver, in your apartment, without him.
The first few days pass in a blurr, you can still barely believe what just happened. Your weekend with Mark feels like a too good dream but Mark kept his side of promise and texted you almost immediately as you left. He sends you selfies, songs that remind him of you and you talk about your days like you never did before. Still, it feels like you’re dancing around certain topics which are basically the elephant in the room and maybe that’s why Taeyong tries to cheer you up in his own way. Though, he soon realizes that you not being happy isn’t the problem, you are happy, you just… miss Mark more than you ever did.
“Enough of moping, you still have a wish left!” Taeyong exclaims, throwing himself onto your bed. “Come on, close your eyes, imagine what you want the most in the world and make a wish!" he singsongs. However, before you could even just indulge him, your phone pings with a new notification.
fullsun00 tagged you in their post!
You click on it right away, wondering what Mark’s friend Donghyuck is doing online at 1AM. The uploaded post turns out to be a photo of you and Mark when you all hang out near Han river. You were too busy at the time laughing at how the boy almost lost his whole scoop of ice cream before he could have had a single bite to notice his smile while looking at you. Based on his caption Donghyuck apparently wasn’t.
fullsun00: just old friends, they say. friends my ass @buttercupyn @onyourm__ark
You click your tongue wondering what Mark thinks of the callout but you press like on the post anyways. You put your phone aside before you could see how his other friends join the teasing in the comment section.
“Actually, I do have my third wish,” you speak up as you turn to Taeyong before he could make a remark on your tinted cheeks.
You’ve been thinking a lot about it during the past days. You could wish for anything but you’re at a point of your life where no riches or fame would make you happier because you’re happy enough just the way it is. It might not be perfect but you don’t want to be selfish and you want to make decisions you won’t regret: like catching up with Mark, curing his tiger and bringing happiness into the life of somebody who only ever served other people in his life.
“Ooh, what is it?” Taeyong claps, giddy as if he was waiting for this to happen. He probably did.
“I wish you would go on a vacation and enjoy life,” you tell him but unlike his usual reaction, this time the dragon’s smile fades and he blinks at you, confused.
“You could ask for anything in the world and that’s what you want? Are you sure?” he furrows his brows, not quite believing your words but you just smile, knowingly.
“Yes, Taeyong, I’m sure.”
“Your wish, my command,” he bows with his hands put together and with a twirl suddenly he’s in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, looking as ready for a holiday as one can be. You chuckle and tell him to just go, you’ll be fine.
You’re fine, you really are. Life goes on, you study and work, you laugh with your friends, you video call with Mark regularly and his friends are regulars on your social media, too. It’s just sometimes the feeling of missing something hits you harder than other days. Especially when you’re looking through the pictures you have from your Seoul weekend.
“I wish you were here,” you whisper ahead of you at one particularly good photo of Mark and the sunset, smiling at you behind the camera. You miss his smile, the cute wrinkles around his eyes when he crunches his nose, the sound of his laughter, his hand on your wrist… you miss him.
Ding-dong.
You stand up startled at the sound of your flat’s bell, running to the door to open it even though you have no idea who it could be so early on a Saturday morning. Not having a better idea, you expect it to be either a neighbour of your landlord but on the other side of your doorstep stands a boy who you thought was a continent away. He’s dressed semi-casually this time, his shirt tucked in his jeans, hair lightly falling onto his forehead and a nervous smile on his thin lips.
“Mark! But I⎼ I don’t even have more wishes,” you blink, taken aback, looking around to look for Taeyong in case he came back. But your behaviour just manages to confuse Mark instead.
“What?”
“I just wished you were here,” you blurt out without thinking, your words only processing later in your brain and it’s then when heat creeps onto your cheeks. Mark tries to but can’t really hide his growing smile at that.
“Really? I’m glad then. I just took my new private plane on a test drive,” he says bashfully, a silly excuse for real.
“All the way to Vancouver?” you tease, watching Mark fumble with the hem of his shirt. Your heart beats overtime just because of the fact that he’s there. 
“Well, what can I say? I did miss the weather here,” he plays along with a shrug but he’s more serious when he looks deep into your eye and adds: “And you left without letting me answer.”
Oh yes, you did. You were kind of afraid of his reaction but seeing how he was ready to travel across the world just to see you, maybe there’s no reason for you to be so afraid. It feels like deja vu but a reversed one in a way as Mark gently pulls you into a hug, his lips grazing your hair with a whisper that makes your heart skip a beat: “I have missed you too.”
You really wouldn’t wish for anything more.
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Note
I hope you are having a great day.
I wanted to tell you that I love the way you write and how you show the personality of your characters in so few words.
Also if you have time, for the Bad Things Happend Bingo, could I ask for a Soup for the Sick? (Maybe a villain whumpee)
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Thank you for the ask! And especially thank you for that lovely message attached to it, it means a lot!
Soup for the sick... here you go, I hope you enjoy! I did, I had lots of fun writing this one.
Personalized Caretaker
@badthingshappenbingo
Warnings: drug abuse mention, feverish whumpee, talk of medications, mean caretaker, delirium, fever, pills (tylenol)
... there may be more so tell me if there is so I can list them.
~
Civilian wished that she didn't live in the most heavily super-powered city in the world.
Yes world.
Villains and heroes all running around like teenagers, not caring for the lives of innocent civilians... or the heroes were meant to, Civilian started to think that the whole "we will protect you" was all phony propaganda aimed to get the city to fund their organization.
But the daily bombings and increasing death toll was not the issue with the city. It wasn't even the large mass of heroes and villains. It was only one.
One.
Of all the heroic figures and devilish snakes, there was only one that ticked Civilian off.
Villain.
And not because he was the King of Monologues. No, it was because the bastard made Civilian his own personal caretaker.
Was she asked to tend to his very needs? No.
Was she hired? Paid? No, but she should be getting a salary for the tedious work of stitching wounds and feeding his greedy stomach. The bandage bills were adding up and Civilian's meager wage was completely wiped out from having to buy a pack every day.
She was an inch away from going on a rage and robbing every bank in the city.
No, she wasn't. She just happened to live on 489 Deertree Avenue, where six months ago the murderous villain decided to collapse unconscious on her doorstep to bleed out like it was no problem.
Like it was a leisure, a recreational activity. Probably to him, waking up in a warm bed, doped up on painkillers with the sickening sweet smell of caramel candles burning around him, it was.
But not to Civilian. She had to manually help the injured individual drink water, get dressed, and even use the bathroom.
UGGGHHHH!
The man had millions of henchmen, billions of wannabe minions at his beck and call.
But he just so happened to have a crush on the red door of 489 Deertree Avenue.
But it was a bad case of unrequited love of the highest order, so no hope of a romantic candlelit date at the most expensive restaurant in the most famous city in the world.
Dairy Queen.
The pure hilarity of that fact. Even the Avenger Tower did not hold nearly as many powered or high-tech individuals as the city and the most fanciest restaurant was a chain fastfood restaurant at the corner of main street.
Civilian clenched the towel she was holding. As much as the stupidity of the city got on her nerves, it was very unpatriotic of her to go on and embarrass the area even more.
Civilian was scrubbing the mirror in the bathroom. The walls of the whole room were stained in the most disgusting brown and red from all the grime and blood radiating off a singular person's- not even the owner of the house- body.
Those would never go away unless Civilian paid for someone to come and mega-wash the bathroom. Not that she had any money to invest in such a delightful gift, her bank account was too busy supporting the prescribed pain medications. Like, Civilian was probably on the watchlist for utter bankruptcy and for being a possible candidate for drug addiction.
Who needs two whole containers of opioids and a canteen of valium every three months?
Not a normal civilian washing floors at Walmart, that's for sure.
But then again, Civilian was far from normal. She worked as a personalized savior during her freetime.
Civilian clenched her teeth and took a deep breath in. Her ward hasn't made his grand appearance in over a week. She actually had time to relax, make some popcorn and actually decompress. It was like vacation, peaceful, tranquil and full of serenity, free of any-
Knock, knock, knock.
Civilian's moment of bliss was unceremoniously ended by the all too familiar beat of a fist on wood.
"You have my permission to make out with the door Villain! You don't need to ask anymore!"
Civilian hoped Villain was coherent enough to internalize that as an invitation to bleed on her couch.
Just so she could have one more moment. One more moment of her coveted break.
Cough.
Civilian's head perked up. That was new. She never, ever heard Villain cough in a sickly manner- she never let him get bad enough to get sick, or he didn't permit himself to wait around until infection and fever set in.
She set down the towel, worry settling into her bones like it always did- not that she liked the heart dropping feelings and nauseating pit in her stomach each and everytime Mr. Needy had blood on him. Or everyday that he didn't show up for a bandaid, or a "kiss-it-better".
Yes, the pure humiliation when her delirious patient painfully begged her to kiss his knee better. Like, the puny scrape on his leg was by far the least severe wound on his bloodstained body, but of course, Civilian complied and gave him a little peck on his Olaf bandaid.
Civilian ripped open the door and the scene in front of her chased away those obnoxious memories.
Villain collapsed into her arms, head lolling pathetically against her shoulder. His forehead felt like it was doused with gasoline and then lit by a torch five times over. Civilian's shocked arms involuntarily wrapped around his equally scorching body. Yes, it was not a conscious act. Not in a million years would Civilian muster up the compassion to actually comfort the villain more than the deed of "saving his life" called for.
No, no Civilian hated Villain. Completely and totally loathed each and every cell on his body.
But she dragged him into the house and shut- more like slammed- the door anyways because she couldn't let him die, it would be like murder's sidekick.
Especially since Villain trusted her. Oh how he trusted her. Trusted her to bathe him, to feed him, to give him medicine, but most importantly not to kill him. With all the horrors he committed, a swift knife to the throat would be more than justified. In fact, Civilian would likely be commemorated for such bravery.
Public approval, fame... all a deliciously yummy cake.
Not worth it. Too many calories.
Civilian sunk to the ground and put Villain's upper body in her lap. He nestled into her, pressing his cheek deep into her side with a small, contented smile on his pale face.
"Don't drool on me," Civilian snapped, jostling Villain who woke up. Before he had the chance to get his bearings, Civilian spoke up again, "Are you hurt?"
The villain stared at her for a while before breaking into desperate tears, shaking his head.
What the heck?
"Stop crying or I will punch you," Civilian threatened, but she rubbed Villain's back soothingly.
"Dying," Villain sobbed.
"You are not dying, buddy, you have a cold."
"No, I'm dying," Villain asserted. Civilian rolled her eyes. Did he have to be so dramatic?
"I don't think a cold will kill you. Stop acting like the world is ending now, or I will throw you in the trash."
Villain whimpered and pulled himself closer, still crying.
He really was sick. So sick to the point of being delirously delusional.
"You don't need to be a Disney princess," Civilian said, still rubbing the villain's back. Villain's cries turned into sobs and then into wails.
Okay this was getting out of hand. Civilian stood up and dragged Villain's body over to the couch. She marveled in her strength for a while. When Villain first made his appearance in her otherwise boring life, she was as skinny as a twig. Now? This girl was a freaking hulk, baby.
Okay stop that, Civilian chastised herself, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She laid Villain on the beige colored couch and rested his wet head against a pillow that was metaphorically marked with his name.
Now that the villain was completely stretched out, Civilian- to her relief- found that he was not bleeding, therefore, she didn't have to waste her precious supply of gauze and bandages tonight.
But he still was very, very sick. His face was a gray mask of pale complexion, his hair snarled and matted in sweat. His lips were tinged blue as unfocused eyes gazed around the room, landing on the TV.
"You want to watch something?" Civilian asked, though the question was more than unnecessary. Villain always watched a movie as he dozed off, warm and comforted by the mound of blankets strewn over him.
But still, like a habit, he nodded weakly each and every time. Civilian smiled, the tiniest of grins, and connected the tablet to the television. When the screen popped up with the classic Amazon Prime Video layout, Civilian asked what movie.
"Boss Baby," Villain mumbled, lips hardly moving.
"You want to watch a movie with baby superheroes? Why don't we watch Toy Story or something?"
Or something a bit more adult-ish.
"Mhm," Villain groaned, eyes slipping shut. "Baby superheroes."
Now it was Civilian's turn to groan, loud and exaggerated. But, still he was her unwelcome guest so she had to please his obnoxiously childish wants.
Like how old was he? Five?
Civilian put in the movie and sat down next to Villain, putting his legs on her lap. She tapped lazily at his jeans as the opening credits showed. Leaning her head back, Civilian allowed her gaze to drift away from the stupid fat-faced animated figures and to Villain.
He was nearly asleep.
Civilian shifted her weight and rested against her arm to watch him. Even sick, she had to admit, the evil and annoying villain was shockingly handsome.
What was she thinking?!
Pushing Villain's feet away, Civilian stood up and aggressively shoved her palm to his forehead. It was buzzing with heat.
"You are paying for the bill," Civilian growled and went to go get some tylenol.
Upon returning to the sickly man's sweaty side, Civilian thrusted the pills into his mouth and washed them down with water. She didn't even give him a chance to wake up fully, the motion was instinctual. He swallowed on reflex.
Next, Civilian cussed herself for this, she cupped his cheek. Villain sunk into her palm, chewing silently, and continued to sleep.
When Villain first visited, Civilian couldn't get over how touch starved the poor guy was. It was to the point of absolute fear of touch. He would shiver before violently flinching away, glaring daggers.
He still didn't allow hugs or a highfive when he was in his right mind- not that Civilian saw him fully conscious ever apart from a couple times.
"Hungry?" Civilian mumbled, more to herself than anyone.
Still, Civilian placed Villain's head back onto the pillow and went into the kitchen to make some soup.
Chicken noodle soup with rice... her specialty. Chicken breast and rich seasoning, even one's dampened taste buds could taste the utter deliciousness of the watery broth.
Then the rice. Sometimes when Villain was on the mend, she would add some wild rice or lentils to the dish. Spooning some basic white rice into the bottom of the bowl, Civilian tapped her foot aimlessly.
The kettle on the stove whistled, Civilian pushed it off the heat and added the seasoning and celery. The savory scent wafted into her nose earning itself a tiny smile from Civilian.
Once the soup was done, she presented it to the still sleeping villain. His mouth hung open, desperate for air that his clogged nostrils couldn't deliver.
Dang. Poor guy was really ill.
Civilian sat next to Villain, so close that she could feel the rise of his chest. She shoved his face upwards. Villain blinked his eyes open and settled his gaze on Civilian's annoyed, but worried, face.
"Ghm," he moaned, rumbled in the back of his throat in a fatigued manner. "Cow hopping."
"Shut up," Civilian scolded and helped Villain to a seating position. He complied, but had no strength left to actually hold the stance.
So Civilian was forced to lay him against her chest and feed him by giving him a big old bear hug. Spoon after spoon went to his mouth until Civilian was just dumping it into his mouth without any natural swallowing reflex.
She took a wet rag and cleaned his face before laying him back onto the couch. Civilian smiled and tenderly touched his eyebrow.
Why did she have to care about him so much?
99 notes · View notes
wizkiddx · 3 years
Text
...surprise part 3
{part1} {part 2}
I got there in the end!!!! sorry I felt like this dragged quite a lot but just quite happy to get it done ahah. Any feedback / advice would be greatly appreciated :)
TW: this is pretty heavy angst, miscarriages / thoughts of self harm / death pls don't read if this could strike a cord x 
Summary: Y/n has absolutely not a clue how to tell Tom and that only strains the both incredibly. 
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The drive home was deathly silent. Tom’s Audi seamlessly drove down the near-empty roads on a sleepy Sunday evening. The whole time Y/n sat with one leg curled up by her chest as she absently stared out of the passenger window. Honestly, though, she was not taking anything of the view in, all processing power in her brain was in overdrive. Souly focused on how the fuck she was going to tell Tom what she had done. She knew Tom kept glancing over at her, with the panicked hint to his eyes- no matter how comforting he was trying to appear. His grip on the steering wheel was every tightening, he felt as though right now that was the only control he had. Still with no idea what was going on - but this time his mum knew too. And his mum when she came to get him from the living was not calm either.
Something he always admired about his mum was how cool she was in a crisis. Even if Paddy likened her to the ’rage monster’ at times when she was pissed because he’d left the freezer door open, or something equally as stupid, when it came down to it, when there was a really serious issue… she was composed. Calm and collected. So when she came in and called Tom, taking him away from his brothers, he could tell something was wrong by the look in her eye. She was upset, that was clear to him, but there was something more. It wasn’t straight up panic (not like if Y/n had passed out or something) but it was… it was a quiet urgency.
It meant it was bad.
Without the need to ever consider it, Tom knew this wasn’t anything to do with Y/n being unfaithful. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. And that meant, something must've happened personally to Y/n - which maybe scared him even more. If it was a betrayal of him, that would principally hurt Tom himself - which would kill him, but he would deal with it. It was the fear of the unknown and the complete powerlessness in this situation that had Tom wishing the drive away so he’d finally understand.
The drive felt painstakingly long for Tom… yet far too short for Y/n to come up with a plan.
When the pair finally pulled into the driveway, they both didn’t even exchange glances before heading out the car and slamming the doors shut. The crunch of their shoes on the gravel path to the front door was deafeningly loud as Tom fished the keys out of his pocket - this time with a sense of dread that contrasted so strongly the excitement he’d felt less than 24 hours ago doing the exact same thing.
Tom held the door open for her, as she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve; eyes still glued to the floor. He flicked on the light to illuminate the hall as she slipped off her shoes. He mirrored her action and then for the first time since his parents' house looked her in the eye. Just that action had him near spilling his guts about how worried he was about her, before Y/n beat him to it.
“I’m…I’m gonna take a shower.”
And it had him floored. How could she just ignore the bloody massive and luminous elephant in the room? He couldn’t even respond, his brain was so confused as to what the fuck was going on. So she just nodded smally and headed straight upstairs. Leaving him in a stupor by the doorway.
Meanwhile, Y/n was just about holding it together until she got behind the locked door of their ensuite. Then it broke. She broke.
She pulled the clothes that drowned her off frantically, scratching and grabbing until the garments ripped off her body and were thrown across the room in haste. In the mirror, the reflection of the person that stood there somewhat had her transfixed. Tilting her head to the side, Y/n took careful steps up toward it - her eyes transfixed on her exposed abdomen. She was hollow. So very empty and it had her hypnotised. How barely weeks ago she was growing a real human inside there - creating something that should’ve gone onto laugh and smile and grow and learn. And love.
Now she was empty.
The poor thing though had been so deprived by their own mother; so unwanted and hated. They had been starved of all love by the person who was supposed to love them the most. The person who was supposed to be half their world for the first few years at least.
It was her fault.
Y/n hated herself, heck she wanted to punish herself for what she’d done. And yet, there was something so pure about her stomach, about where that angel had been. She wanted to punch herself, to kick and hurt, to make her feel pain. Except for this little life force, or the remnants of them - had her respecting it. Instead, she gently rubbed her stomach, which was flat rather than full like it should’ve been, and yet it felt like a relief. At a snail's pace, she trailed the tips of her finger across her belly just drawing (what she thought were) random patterns - however to anyone else they would have noticed the silhouette of a small human.
She took her time int the shower, having the water close to blisteringly hot but not quite there - using it as an attempt to purge her body of the thoughts, of the guilt. Eventually, though she couldn’t drag out the bathroom routine any longer, she had to go and face him. In reality, Y/n was well aware of how unfair this was on Tom - he had been terrified on the way back here, she knew that. But the thought of admitting to him this truly abhorrent thing she’d done, selfishly she didn’t want to tell him tonight. Just one more night sharing a bed with him, one morning of seeing his puffy eyes and bed hair, one last time hearing his gruff morning voice. Before he found out the real her and before he left.
Thankfully, when she finally drew the courage to unlock the door and leave her sanctuary, their bedroom was empty and she took that opportunity. As fast as she possibly could, Y/n changed into an old nightshirt before huddling under the covers. Tom had been so careful with her feelings today, he might just leave her be. Delay the conversation till tomorrow. It was the dream.
And dreams don’t come true.
Tom walked in, she could hear the soft pad of his feet on the cream carpet as she tried to act fast asleep - regulating her breathing and relaxing every muscle she could. When in fact that the whole process was the opposite of relaxing, she was on such high alert, waiting for a sign of him leaving her alone for the evening. Quite expectedly though, it didn’t quite go down that way. She heard him sigh, felt him sit on his side of the bed as her body rippled with the dip on the bed, felt his eyes piercing her.
“Y/n…” the tone of his voice had her wincing internally, he was hurting. “Y/n please… just talk to me?” She was too scared to move. “ I know your awake Y/n we both know who’s the actor here” Y/n knew Tom was trying to lighten the mood, trying to make her feel a bit more comfortable but then he switched back to an underlying hint of desperation. “Please talk to me.” She didn’t have a choice, he wasn't going to let up - Y/n could tell. So she rolled over and opened her eyes facing him.
“I’m tired, Tom. Can we do this tomorrow?” His face completely morphed and she knew she fucked up. He wasn’t upset or worried or scared any more.
“I’m sorry but that is not fair.”
“Please just-“
“NO. ah” He sighed, as if disciplining himself for the instinctive angry tone. “Look- I-I’ve been going at your pace. I’ve been treading on eggshells all day. I didn’t want to push you but I’m bloody terrified! I mean you told my mum! And she’s worried so that means I’m even more stressed and-…. Just please Y/n. You know I’d never judge you I’m just worried because I care.”
And just like that, she didn’t have a choice. She was really hurting the man she loved.
As a result, Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, still hugging the duvet around her in a protective blanket as she looked into his glassy eyes. It tore her heart out.
“I’m really sorry” she pursed her lips blowing out an exhale, trying to collect all her thoughts, feelings and emotions together. “I’ve been trying to all day but-.. it’s just I’m finding this really hard to express in words.”
“I don’t mind if it takes all night, just I-I want to understand.” He was just too kind and she didn’t deserve it. So picking at the duvet while pulling her legs closer in protection she nodded.
“Okay, so-so I just take you through it chronologically? And-and then I can go to Y/f/n’s place so.”
“Why would you got to hers?” He asked, his eyebrows drawn tightly together in confusion. He knew you hadn’t been unfaithful - his mum most definitely wouldn’t have reacted in the way she did had Y/n betrayed Tom.
“Just… just listen first.” She didn’t want to answer that question, to speak it into existence. Him kicking her out, in a rage of fury and anger at how evil she could be. She thought he’d just reply and accept it, not feel the need to calm her.
“I could never ever hate you Y/n please, it’s a bit insulting to me that you think I would.”
His words had her a little shocked - she had definitely not expected that reaction. His offence.
“Umm okay just… just don’t promise till you hear.” He gave her a stern look, not enough to make her back down or change her mind from what she thought was inevitable. “So. So it was when you were away. You’d just gone to Atlanta I think and-and I woke up one morning and was sick and it was weird I don’t know… um so I took the day off but I was okay until the next morning and-and I was sick again. It was weird so I took the next day off because you know Elliot I work with? He’s-he's got some broken immune system or something so we really can’t go in if we are ill. But I was fine until the next morning again and-and then it kind of hit me. I hadn’t had a period in ages and-and yeah.”
“Your pregnant?” Tom asked, trying to wrap his head around the current situation and what she was saying.
“Was…” Her voice wavered and she paused a second “ I-I was. I was shocked you know? We…we weren’t ready.” Y/n shifted uncomfortably, pushing herself closer to the headboard. “You said you didn’t want kids now and I mean … we- we are barely adults ourself right? It-it was so stupid but I couldn’t tell you could I?… Phone you up and say by the way I’m pregnant with a kid you don’t want!...” She dared to look at him, only for a second, seeing the way he just stared at her as though transfixed. She couldn’t keep looking at him.
“So I was waiting till you would get back … er next week, well when you were supposed to be back anyway.” She scoffed lightly at that, how the whole entire situation had been completely flipped on its head. “I would have had the scan then. And-and I went and it so stupid because they were a blob but-shit. They were so beautiful.” She hadn’t even noticed, suddenly absorbed in what she was saying but Tom leant over to grab one of her hands because it was trembling so vigorously. It wasn’t that he wanted to comfort her, he needed to. Because really? When it mattered, he hadn’t and that was already eating away at him.
“And I stupidly…. So fucking stupidly… I thought what if? I got excited and in my head… I don’t fucking know I just thought that I-it, it might work. I really - really thought it could work.” She couldn’t feel it but Tom wormed his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her into his side. “But by that point, I’d already filled them with so much hate. I wanted them out for so long and…and then I just- well I got what I thought I wanted.”
For the first time since she started her speech, Y/n wasn’t absorbed in retelling the story. Noticing her position with Toms arms protectively wrapped around her, she dared to look up into his eyes. And they weren’t right. It was wrong. Because here he was still looking at her with these incredibly soft warm brown eyes, his thumb rubbing up and down on the back of her shoulder blade.
“Love, I’m so so sorry.”
She was bemused. What the hell was he doing? Was this just a double bluff, acting all soft before he was about to rip her heart out - even if it was what she deserved, that was exceptionally cruel?
“No Tom your not listening. I-I couldn’t keep your baby alive! I-I wished them away… I wanted them gone!” Now she was plainly hysterical, shouting and yelling at Tom as her hands shook.
It broke Tom’s heart. He knew this was his fault - at least a little. Clearly, she should never have been in a position to have to deal with this herself, that was obvious. And it made him guilty… but what hit harder? She had very clearly implied she was worried about his reaction, he should never have let her worry. Because Tom knew he loved Y/n unconditionally, at this point that should be a given - for all he cared there was nothing, within the limits of reason, she could do that would make him seriously reconsider his opinion of her. Even then, if his opinion were ever forced to change so dramatically... he still knew he wouldn’t be able to stop loving her. Loving isn't an option, it is not a choice. You helplessly surrender yourself to it. And yet she was apparently less sure of this fact.
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with this by yourself.” And he meant it. He truly meant it. However, Y/n was not having it at all - in her state, in her frame of mind, this was him just torturing her; acting it out only to break her heart. His words and her position wrapped protectively in his arms dawned on her. It had her leaping up from the bed, tears streaming down her face as she gestured wildly.
“Tom that’s not fair! Don’t you get it? I KILLED YOUR BABY! They were alive and then I wasn’t enough for them! IT’S MY FAULT!” To put it simply, she looked insane. Screaming, with tears streaming down her face, arms flailing about as she yelled at Tom, who was still sitting on the bed.
He’d never seen her like this- with so much anger. What was even more disturbing was the fact that it was targeted so inwardly at herself.
“This isn’t your-“
“BE ANGRY TOM. For fuck sake… I-“ She choked out a sob “I murdered your kid! RAGE AT ME SHOUT AT ME it’s-it’s what I deserve.” It was insane but the look in her eye was one that seemed to Tom as though she needed him to hate her. As if in some fucked up narrative that was how the story should end.
He was not having one bit of it, tearing his eyes away from her maniacally shaking frail frame and instead to the corner of the ceiling. There was no precedent, no guidebook on how to deal with this, no past experiences to rely on. Unlike if Y/n had had a shit day, Tom knew then to subtly keep her within reach, to silently be there so she could literally and figuratively lean on him when she was ready; unlike when she was angry at ignorant politicians, he knew not to argue but prompt her to explain more, give a more reasoned argument so anger became thought through intellect; unlike when her grandma had died, when she just needed his contact, she needed his thumb rubbing against her hip, needed to sleep listening to the rhythmical thumping of his heart. None of these were applicable - his touch seemed to make her worse; his words seemed to anger her more; his mere presence didn’t seem to be doing an awful lot of good.
And yet, he couldn’t leave her even if it seemed to be the most logical option. Because she was wild, not herself and not logical and he, for the first time, was terrified of the danger she could be to herself.
Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to react. She saw his Adam's apple bob up and down - readying his voice to scream at her. She saw his brown eyes collect a sheen of tears of rage - ready to bore holes into her skull as he degraded her to what she was worth. Which was very little. Then, as if in slow motion, his sharp jawline tilted back level and his eyes met her. He was frozen as if a statue, ready to rage at her.
“I love you both. So much and equally.”
Tom was pretty sure he could imagine Y/n’s runaway train in her head slam on the breaks. Her eyebrow twitched a little, as she stood completely still trying to analyse his words. Because to her, it didn’t make sense. So he took this moment of (at least surface level) calm to smoothly and slowly stand up, actions much like mirroring how someone approaches a spooked cat on the streets. Movements slow and preplanned, trying not to set off the fight or flight response on the women in front of him.
“That little baby you made… I didn’t know he ever existed till minutes ago but…but I know for a fact I love them.” He was trying to both figure out and decode his own emotions while explaining them in a way Y/n would accept and understand.
“I love them because… they are made by the love of my life. And that’s incredible and indescribable and just… just part of you, an extension of everything you and me together are… They would never have been perfect right?” Tom softly asked, though realistically knowing he wouldn’t get a response from a still motionless Y/n - besides a single tear, which appeared to have a mind of its own, escaping over her bottom lash lid. Tom watched it roll down her cheek as he composed his next words. “No they wouldn’t, no ones perfect… neither me nor you. But they would’ve been safe and have been loved. They were loved, you-you loved them right, even if you didn’t think you did or when you were terrified?” This time Y/n nodded minutely and Tom mirrored this, taking a small step a little closer to her. “And I did love them while they were in your stomach because they were part of you and I always always love you…. So they were so full of love okay? There's no rhyme or reason to why what happened happened but it’s… it’s definitely not because they were starved of love okay?” Y/n still didn’t have appeared to have released a single breath since Tom stood up, so he made a calculated and risked assessed movement to reach his hand out to touch her upper arm. In reaction, she sucked in a sharp shaky breath and then expelled it just as quickly - just like Tom knew she would. He physically felt a pull in his chest seeing the torment in her glassy eyes, now barely a rulers length from her.
“This, it’s an awful… awful situation. It’s sad and heartbreaking but I really need you to know that it changes nothing about how I feel about you. I need you to really understand how much I love-and always will-love you, and how I love them too.” Another tear escaped the same eye and Tom reached up with his other hand so his thumb could brush it away before the glassy orb met her pronounced jawline. To be honest he was quite grateful for the moment as he felt his voice getting a bit sticky in the back of his throat. She still wasn’t ready to speak yet and he was okay with that.
“We’ll never forget them and we will always love them, but I want to do that with you, as we get older together. They tie us closer and I refuse to disrespect them and force ourselves apart….a-assuming you don’t want to either?” Still cupping her cheek with his left hand Tom felt as well as saw her nod, this time more emphatically, her eyes darting between focusing on his left and then right eye - as though she was just checking they were saying the same things as his mouth.
“I’m sorry I-“ Finally feeling the connection between her brain and voice box, Y/n stated to jiltedly speak but was interrupted as Tom tentatively feathered his lips on hers. “You can be sorry for scaring the crap out of me today, you can be sorry for shouting and you can be sorry for not telling me at all… I don’t think you should, but if you’re staying sorry that’s all you can be sorry for.” He was barely speaking, more like just moving his lips against hers, yet they knew and understood each other completely Y/n got everything. So she sighed and repeated.
“I am sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for you not having the faith to know I’d be happy, that was my fault. I’m sorry for not being here and not noticing when you were struggling on the phone. I’m sorry I crept up on you last night. But I don’t think there’s anything else for either of us to apologise for.”
“Okay” Y/n then pressed her lips firmly and almost desperately against his, feeling his warmth wrap around her, as he literally wrapped his arm around her waist, from where it had been on her upper arm. And really she was very incredibly desperate since it was very very incredibly clear now with him pressed against her that he might’ve been all she needed this whole time. Tom went with it for a couple of moments, but then broke them both apart - it sounds odd but he sort of felt like he was taking advantage of her.
“Darling you’re grieving. We can tackle this together …. But your grieving so we need to look after you first. And, and we’ll remember them and face this. But we gotta look out for each other too and…”
“I’m ill aren’t I?” He was oh-so relieved that she could see it too.
“I’m not a doctor but I think so… think we need to get you eating properly.”Y/n nodded and Tom kissed her forehead, pulling her completely against his chest - only exacerbating and exaggerating his awareness of how boney she felt. It hadn’t gone unnoticed how she’d spent the whole of Sam’s dinner pushing the meat round on her fork - rearranging it numerous times- whilst picking at a few carrots. “We can do whatever you feel will help you this evening but you need to tell me what you want to eat.”
*
You agreed but you still felt incredibly nauseous, so managed to put off the whole snacking thing in lieu of cuddling up on the sofa with Tom. You were still incredibly confused, feeling slightly detached from reality if you were completely honest. And you knew Tom was a good actor, his career kind of speaks for himself yet, all the same, the sheer truth in his eyes, voice, heart. It had you feeling safe. He no longer felt a flight risk and although you still couldn’t understand why he was forgiving you so easily, you believed he was. In the softest voice, he kept just saying ‘your grieving’ when you tried to challenge his logic- admittedly proving difficult in your scattered and hazy mind.
So you found yourself lying almost completely on top of his right side, your head tucked underneath his chin, a fluffy blanket weighing down on your back to keep you nice and toasty. Silently Tom had trailed his fingertips tentatively, under the hem of your t-shirt, round over the top of your hip to his stomach. Initially, it had felt like the worst and most alien feeling in the world- but he told you to relax and you listened; he told you to take deep breaths and you listened; he told you he loved you and you listened.
It must’ve been incredibly boring for him, I mean the TV wasn’t on neither was the radio and you knew his phone was in a pocket you were currently lying on. He didn’t complain though, he just let you lie there. Just sort of being with him.
*
At some point Tom realised she’d drifted off, after a long time fighting exhaustion, as though she were worried about what Tom would do once she finally gave in to sleep. It wasn’t surprising though, considering her energy intake from food for today was limited to a couple of roasted carrot slices, Tom knew her falling asleep on his chest was inevitable. The time it took had also given him enough time to fully digest and process the whole day as well as for deciding what he needed to do. So once she appeared fully out of Tom dared to worm his hand between their bodies and, with a few muted grunts of effort, phish his phone out his back pocket.
‘Hi, I know this asking a lot but would you mind getting Sam to make that pasta bake Y/n likes and dropping it round? Just she’s asleep but I don’t want to leave her alone but could do with getting something in her?’
‘Sams already on it and it doesn’t take long. I’ll be at yours in about an hour, shall I just let myself in?’
Tom was so grateful for his family, and for how they’d taken Y/n in to. Although she’d never admit it, her tougher than average upbringing always had her feeling a bit isolated- she never had ‘her’ people. The people who completely accepted her for who she was and never judged her. But as soon as he’d introduced her to them, it was as if she'd always been there. He endlessly appreciated the talks Nikki and you had, the way his Dad would come over when she was home alone to help with the simple stuff like knowing what lightbulb to buy for the lamp that had blinked out.
She had a place in his family.
Quite impressively, Sam had managed to bake the dish and then Nikki had managed to drive round before barely three-quarters of an hour had passed. Y/n was still completely out, so when he heard his mum unlock the door with her spare key, he felt able to wiggle out from under her without disturbing at all. He met Nikki in the kitchen, leaning against the door frame as he watched his mother fly about the kitchen - preheating the oven on a low temp to keep it warm while pulling plates and cutlery out the drawers so it was easier for Y/n and Tom when you woke up.
“Thanks for all this” Tom announced his presence with a soft sigh as he padded further into the kitchen. Nikki instinctively threw her arms round her eldest’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly.
“You guys okay?” Tom replied with a rather uncertain hum, before recounting the evening to his mum in a low voice - as though Y/n could be disturbed from the other side of the house. Nikki was in two frame of minds at this point, clearly heartbroken for the pair; but also incredibly proud of her son because it appeared he’d reacted and said exactly the right things.
“And you?… it must’ve been a shock?” To be quite honest, Tom hadn't thought about his own emotions yet, he’d put himself on the back foot for the time being.
“I mean it’s just a bit surreal… I don’t know I didn’t really have anything to do with it but - I just know that it's made me so certain that one day we will... you know?” Nikki hugged her son again with a little nod.
“Well I won’t outstay my welcome but I do want you to give this to Y/n too.”’ With those words, she fished a square box out of her handbag - it was about the size of two matchboxes and Tom raised his brows in curiosity. “She’ll understand when she sees it.”
And with a brisk parting gesture, Nikki left, Tom tucking the box into his side pocket before getting the pasta ready.
////////
Waking you with a gentle rub on your upper arm, you mewled a groan and pushed your head hard into the sofa below you in an attempt to alleviate the tension that instantly rippled through your skull. With hazy eyes, you blinked heavily, slowly focusing on the pale yet soft skin of the boy crouched opposite you.
“Hey darling, nice nap?” Nodding gradually, you still tried to completely recollect and piece together everything that had happened today “… you need some grub before we head upstairs yeh?” Again you nodded in compliance because at this point, even having been asleep for the last however long, you really didn’t have the energy for any conflict or disagreement. With a little prompt and poke from Tom, you reluctantly sat up, grasping the plate he offered to you while still rubbing one of your eyes. Busying himself with running back to the kitchen and grabbing his own plate and drink, you had time to look at the food and notice what was served to you. Tom plopped himself next to you and turned his head with a small smile, meeting a bemused and slightly suspicious look from you.
“You didn’t cook this…?” Really it wasn’t a question. You knew for a fact Tom was not and would never be a good chef. No judgement though, since neither were you, meaning the pair of you heavily relied on the ingenious invention of uber eats most evenings. Tom chuckled at your perceptiveness and admitted defeat without even trying to feign it.
“Nah mum dropped it round. Though I think Sam cooked it so a joint effort.”
“-didnt have to-“ You hated feeling like a burden. You hated people worrying because you just felt bad. Not worth the attention and effort. And Tom hated you feeling like that - naturally then, he had the need to shut you down instantly.
“No, you’re right. But they did.”
The air was filled with the quiet clinks of ceramic against the silver or the cutlery as you forced mouthful after mouthful down your throat. He was trying to be subtle, and yet you could feel Tom’s concerned glance checking you were eating. Truthully, you really didn’t feel like eating at all (even if it was Sam’s gorgeous tomato and sausage pasta bake - an odd combination but it worked). However, what more crucial in that moment was not disappointing your incredibly sweet boyfriend.
After having consumed as much as you physically could - which Tom deemed suitable with a small nod- he took your plates away and came back to sit beside you. More and more silence.
“Are-are we okay?” Whispering quietly you felt Tom’s body seize up into a rigid state, his face whipping round to look at you. He chose to reply with actions first reaching up so that his hands cupped your cheeks, he turned your head and then slowly leaned into to press his lips softly against yours. Once retracted, he pressed his forehead onto yours.
“Of course. I bloody love you and we’re going to get through this together.” His eyes were almost intimidating, with the seriousness he placed in his gaze - just to make sure you knew he meant it.
What you had done to deserve this boy you’d never know. But you were so incredibly grateful for him.
It gave you the confidence to take the first move this time, pressing your lips against his, holding for a moment before arching away - a small yet real smile on your face.
“Oh… nearly forgot” He muttered, leaning forward and grabbing a black leather box that you’d failed to notice had been placed on the coffee table. For the second time this evening, you were caught off guard and bemused as to how he’d sourced this item within the time frame. “It’s from mum… she wouldn’t tell me what it is but said you’d understand.”
His words had you biting your lip, in a weird way eager to see, purely because you knew Nikki understood you. And understood what you were going through. With one last look to Tom, you reached out and grabbed the box, thumb running over the sleek leather exterior. Once your thumb reached the bottom you flicked the lid up, unveiling a simple silver chained bracelet. It had five dainty silver charms hanging off it, they looked a bit like leaves but were kind of too small to tell. Moreover, it looked a little worn and preloved but it didn’t stop your eyes from watering when you saw at the bottom another charm, not yet attached that looked newer and pristine.
5 charms already attached and 1 new one.
“Oh” Tom muttered, also clearly very much intrigued, hovering off you left shoulder to see properly. ”That’s mums bracelet. She never really takes it off… that’s nice I guess?” He was obviously confused and it had you chuckling wetly, at how oblivious he could be. You did love your dear idiot.
5 charms for her 5 pregnancies… and now one for yours. One to wear forever, to love, to keep close to your heart.
They were tears of happiness, you were certain of, however, Tom was not at all sure why your flood gates opened again and was worried.
“You-you don’t have to take- I mean if you don’t like it don’t worry-“
“I love it” You breathed, looking up at him with glassy eyes before hastily picking up the extra charm and with shaky fingers clasping it onto the chain next to it. Tom perked up, if still bemused, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t know how you convinced her to take it off, I’ve been trying to buy her a new bracelet for years but she’s always stuck with this old thing.”
“Because it’s beautiful!” You yelped in argument, making him laugh at how suddenly you’d switched into a happy and overexcited mood. Though don’t get me wrong, he was loving it.
“You Holland women I will never understand.” He whispered into your ear whilst you looked back at the chain, fixing it round your wrist. His comment made you freeze up, as you felt his grip tightening on your waist as he realised exactly what he might have just let slip out. “No I er- I don’t mean… but-but one day maybe if-if you wanted.”
“I love you” You sighed, kissing him once again to save him the embarrassment of watching his cheeks flush and ears pink up.
“I’m serious though… one day because… because you’re my family and when it happens our family will grow too.”
He was right. And you would, one day,
But you would never forget the two little lives remembered on this bracelet.
tagging people that might be interested (sorry if u don't care ahah): @wayfaring----stranger @vanillanestor @333dolans @thevelvetseries @whitewolf51 
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Begone
Streamer Gang & Asexual Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Acephobia, Swearing
Genre: Platonic Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having recently come out as asexual, Y/N faces some less than pleasant or appropriate responses in their chat during their stream with the gang. Luckily, they’re not alone in battling the haters this time.
Requested by the lovely Anon who told acephobes to begone, yeah you know who you are hehe. Thank you so much for the request darling! Let’s show these acehobes who they’re messing with! Love, Vy ❤
Boy is this nerve-wrecking or what? Sure, I maybe woke up with a ton of confidence, I listened to motivational and uplifting talks and listened to mood boosting music. I had a healthy breakfast and a cup of coffee. Damn it, I went on a run, all in an attempt to convince myself that dealing with the online world again is but a piece of cake for a badass like me. Well, low and behold, that feeling didn’t last very long. Here I am, chewing my nails off at the though of hopping in the Discord call and Among Us lobby with my friends and starting my stream. It’s not like I’m not expecting my friends and fans to support me - of course I am! I know they’re gonna give me a ton of love and appreciation and support and uplift me no matter what. But then again, there’s still those people who believe me and other people like me to be invalid and broken and whatnot.
Those are the ones I wanna avoid. 
It’s not like their words mean much to me but I simply don’t wanna see em, you know? It’s not only about me - it’s least about me actually - it’s more about all those wonderful people they are insulting when they say shit like that about asexuals and all the people on the ace spectrum. I can’t help but flare up and get angry on the behalf of all my ace friends and even people I’ve never met.
It’s also my first time being directly thrown into the fire instead of getting caught in the crossfire seeing as how I came out to my fandom via a tweet and an Instagram post a week ago, telling my identity’s truth: finally bringing my asexuality to the surface to shine its brightest so I can be be my best and reach for my full potential.
But damn am I afraid to see how everyone took it. 
My friends were quick to jump in and take me offline before I start refreshing my own posts to see the comments under them. Lord knows that without them I would’ve driven myself insane, I’ll forever be grateful for what they did and the lengths they went to to keep me offline and whatnot. One word to give you an idea of how invested they were in this: origami. All of us might as well have been born with two left hands and yet we still tried doing origami. Freaking origami.
Damn do I love my friends.
But now I don’t have sheets of paper and my friends to distract me. I have a fanbase to entertain and another friend group I haven’t talked to in a while. I don’t wanna get any predictions in already so I don’t jinx myself, so I’m just gonna say it’s gonna be...interesting regardless of what happens.
Then again, when is it not interesting when the streamer gang’s involved.
Deep breaths, Y/N. You got this
Listening to that encouraging little voice inside my head, I finally equip my headphones and in one fluid motion turn my camera on, officially starting my stream and unmuting my mic as I hop in the call with everyone.
“Hi guys! Guess who’s returned!“ I exclaim cheerfully, desperate to hide the nervousness of my voice.
“You really missed your opportunity to say ‘guess who’s back...back again’ didn’t you?“ Charlie is the one who greets me first, sounding rather disappointed in me in his usual jokester manner. It’s nice to hear, it makes me feel like nothing’s changed in the week I’ve been gone. Like I’m still the same person to these people. I really am the same, I just now am a lot better version of myself. Almost as though I’ve reached my final form. It feels empowering really. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Charlie laughs again, “Congrats, by the way. You keep proving you can get cooler and cooler.“
“Careful there Charlie, I can only handle so large of an ego.“ I joke back, rolling my eyes playfully as a wide grin spreads across my face, “No, but seriously, thank you so much, man. It means the world to me that you support me.“
“Um, how could we NOT?“ That’s very clearly Rae, “Hun, you are so brave and amazing and wonderful, how could we ever NOT support you?“
“Yeah, we’ll always support you no matter what, Y/N. We’ll always be your friends, through thick, thin and beyond.“ Poki too interferes, her words only making my smile wider.
“Alright, alright, y’all are gonna make me cry and I haven’t even read my chat yet, hold on.“ I say, fanning my face to dry the tears I hope the webcam isn’t spotting, “Darn, you guys are the best. Sorry, give me a sec to gather my composure, I’ll be right back.“
I quickly mute my in-game mic as I turn to my chat where I see the same amount of love and support in the form of comments and emojis flooding in from my viewers. A warm feeling spreads throughout my chest, making me feel the most comfortable with myself I’ve ever felt. The most loved I’ve ever felt. The most seen and understood. To finally be you feels like you are finally really living in this world, not like you’ve been already living in it for God knows how long. It makes me so freaking happy and fulfilled to finally be living as me, as the real me.
Unfortunately, in life, nothing can be 100% pure and good. There’s always at least 1% there threatening to ruin all your happiness you worked so hard to build or obtain. It may be one in a hundred, but fuck it’s powerful and effective.
And in my case it comes in the form of two comments that stick out to my eyes. Acephobic comments saying my identity’s fake, claiming I’m faking it, saying us acephobes are immature creatures who refuse to grow up, or attention whores. Or just saying we’re delusional and in denial, confused about who we are.
I hadn’t even realized I was clenching my jaw and fists but when I do, I slowly relax my muscles and crack my knuckles before addressing the two people who spat out that nonsense.
“Ok, listen here, shooterpro69 and yourmom_lol. For starters, I want to apologize for your ignorance and lack of education on the matter of asexuality. In fact, for you especially, I plan on making an educational video, explaining asexuality to people who need or want to learn more. You, my friends, are in desperate need to be fed some knowledge cause damn, God knows how many people secretly think you’re hella stupid. Not that they’re wrong to think so but anyway. Unless you have anything nice or positive to say, begone from my chat. Actually, when I think about it, begone from every chat. No one needs you polluting their communities with acephobia and hate.“ I say, all spoken in a calm tone despite the boiling anger within me. People who know me well would probably be able to tell I’m fuming underneath the calm façade, but at least I got my message across loud and clear.
“WOO HOO, You tell em Y/N!“ Toast cheers, clapping his hands and whistling as more cheering arises from each my friends, leaving me in a state of mild shock and confusion.
Wait, what?!
“Um, wait, you guys heard that?“ I ask, my eyes darting to thein-game mic symbol that shows an not crossed-off mic, meaning it was enabled during the entirety of my speech.
“Hell yeah we did! You slayed them, Y/N! Damn goddamn!“ Rae whistles too, her enthusiasm wafting over me like a breath of fresh air.
“I second that!“ Corpse joins in, “And remember what we said - we’ll support you through anything. Need to bury an acephobe’s body, we’re the people you should call.” He says, confident as heck.
And I just can’t hold it in anymore - I burst out laughing, doubling over from the intensity.
If I thought I was happy and fulfilled before, this has to be the closest to paradise I’m gonna get on Earth.  All thanks to these wonderful people. Friends are really something else aren’t they: they come into your life - often unexpectedly - and change it completely. Suddenly you’re not alone, you’re not forced to deal with everything and face everything on your own. Someone’s got your back and you’ve got theirs.
Through thick, thin and beyond.
And it’s so fucking amazing.
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celticcrossanon · 3 years
Note
I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️
Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤
🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️
I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?
Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾
Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.
Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer
Hi april14vc,
You are welcome to rant here.
It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.
I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.
I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.
What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.
The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.
What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.
Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.
My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.
Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.
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Text
Irresistibly Yours
Chapter 2 - Noise Complaint
Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?
Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N
Warning - None expect meanie Dean (Suspicious, isn’t it?)
WC - 2154
Square Filled - Don't put me in this position ( @anyfandomgoesbingo​ )
A/N - I promise the next chapter will have more of Dean and more conflict! This is just the beginning of a very long ride. Enjoy!
Beta’d by @miss-nerd95​
Dividers by @firefly-graphics​
Series Masterlist               Masterlist 
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The silence in the cab on her way back to her apartment gave her the quality time she needed to think. In a few weeks, Meg was getting married and now, since they knew, Y/N had to show up with her 'boyfriend’. She racked her brain, scrambling to come up with a good excuse because it was all a big lie.
Every time, however, she reached two conclusions - either make a fool of herself and admit that she lied or tell everyone that she broke up and be the one person at the wedding that everyone looks down on with pitiful eyes.
There was a third option, which was risque as hell too, cause Y/N barely knew the man and their first meeting did not go so well, but there was definitely something about him that made her blush every time she thought of him.The way he carried himself and the dominating vibes he gave off, sent shivers down her spine. Maybe he wasn't a morning person and she did start blabbering in the elevator the minute she stepped in. She swallowed hard when she remembered the way her name rolled off his tongue. ‘How did he know?’ She wondered.
As Y/N boarded the elevator, she thought about how, she wanted nothing more than to see a certain green-eyed man again. She had been residing in this complex for almost three months but she had never seen the man before. Maybe he was new here, in this apartment building, who knew? Mind plagued by millions of thoughts, Y/N trudged down the empty hallway to her cosy little home.
“Who invented these fucking heels?” She grumbled as she freed her feet out of the painful, yet pretty high heels when she reached the comfort of her own home. Shrugging her coat off, she relaxed as her ass hit the soft mattress of the couch.
“I need a date in seven weeks.” She said, making a mental note of the wedding date. This was the only wedding she ever looked forward to attending where she knew she wouldn't have to face the constant stream of questions involving her dating life and a particular man. All she ever wanted was to be with her close friend on the best day of her life.
“First dress fitting - tomorrow at 10.” Her phone lit up with an incoming text and groaning, she dropped her head backwards. Y/N couldn't even skip the wedding if she wanted to. She was one of the bridesmaids and it wouldn't be fair to both Meg and Cas, if she didn't attend it. A smile graced her frowning face when she remembered the time Cas proposed to her friend on Valentine's Day. Cliche- Y/N would say, but deep down, she knew she just wanted what Cas and Meg had.
A sigh left her lips as she got up, still in her work clothes. She put on some light music as she went into the bathroom to freshen up. After the long, tiring day she had, a warm bath and a Ryan Gosling movie were very much needed. Quickly stripping off, she stepped into the tub. She leaned her head backwards, closing her eyes, as the warm water soothed her aching body and her troubled mind.
“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone,” Y/N sang along the song, slightly off tune but she didn't care, as she stepped out of the bathroom after some time. She let go of the towel wrapped around her body and stepped into a pair of comfortable pjs. Getting a box cold pizza out from her refrigerator, she turned up the volume of the music playing in her apartment.
“He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said,” Y/N yelled out the chorus when she started to heat up the pizza. Her private singing session, however, was cut short by a sudden knock on the door. She grudgingly pressed pause as she walked up to the door to find out the unwanted visitor.
“Excuse me- Ms L/N?” As soon as she opened the door, she was met by a very familiar, deep baritone that had been haunting her.
“Dean Winchester. And please, call me Y/N,” she breathed out. The formality in Dean’s voice made her cringe. Her eyes fell as she took in the man in front.
Dean had gotten rid of the dapper grey suit and slipped into a much laid back look. A black polo t-shirt fitted over his body and plain blue jeans hugging his bowlegs perfectly. The look on his face mirrored the one from the morning and Y/N wondered if he would look better with a smile on. Her train of thoughts were again rudely interrupted by the man speaking.
“I assume you're having somewhat of a casual evening,” Dean said, his hands waving to point at her pjs, making her suddenly self-conscious of her clothing state.
“Y-yeah. How may I help you?” She asked, genuinely curious.
“See, I moved in the apartment right beside you a few days ago, and I think you might have noticed sometime or the other that there are other people living in this building as well,” Dean said, his face not imparting any sort of emotions, “You might be having a casual evening but I can assure you that there's at least one person who is certainly not. Turn the music level down.”
Y/N’s mouth fell open at Dean’s words but she wasn't going to turn down the volume just because a man turned up at her door, asking her to do so. His words were sharp, but his tone was downright rude, and it was definitely not because he wasn't a morning person. The least he could have done was ask her nicely.
“Well, listen here pal, no one's having a problem, other than you. So you can go back to your room, put on some earplugs and do whatever the heck you were doing before you decided to make my day more awful,” Y/N said, taking a threatening stance with hands on her hips, a deep frown on her face.
“I'll file a noise complaint report against you.” Dean warned with his pointer finger right in front of her eyes.
“It's just music. Learn to appreciate the little things in life.” She said while rolling her eyes.
“I'm a very busy man and I got work to do, alright? And speaking about music, play something actually good like Zeppelin and people will personally come up to thank you. This song is not even a classic.” Dean spat back.
“Believe me or not, everyone is a Swiftie at heart.” She smirked with a sarcastic shrug. Dean’s lips twitched in anger as his face grew more rigid before he said, “If you don't lower the volume, expect a noise complaint report delivered with your newspaper tomorrow.” He walked away before Y/N had a chance to even think of a comeback.
Glancing over his shoulder, Dean went inside his own apartment room right beside Y/N’s. She glared at the empty hallway before swinging her door shut and walked back to her room towards her amazon echo, turning the music down anyway. She couldn't risk getting a report filed against her, and the man appeared to be dead serious about what he threatened to do.
“Stupid Dean Winchester.” She grumbled.
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Squinting at the clock, Y/N woke up the next morning to loud bangs on her door. 7:30 am, it read. Removing the covers, she immediately shivered when the cool air hit her bare legs.
Hair still a mess, she grabbed her robe from the nearby chair, putting it on along with her slippers before she warily made her way to the door. “Dean will be complaining now for sure.” She grumbled as she unlocked her door to reveal her friend standing on the other side in a dishevelled state, eyes red like a mad woman.
“Meg?” Her face scrunched up in confusion as the said woman shoved past her into her apartment. “You’re wearing your shirt inside out.” Y/N closed the door behind her as Meg took a seat on the couch.
“Can I have some water?” Y/N dumbfoundedly nodded at her friend’s request and went to her kitchen to retrieve a glassful. Handing the glass over to her, she sat down next to the brunette who gulped down the entire glass of water in one go. Setting the utensil down on the wooden coffee table in front, she turned towards Y/N with slightly glossy eyes as she spoke, “I don’t want to go and finalise the dresses.”
Her words elicited a laugh from Y/N before she said, “Okay, bridezilla, we can reschedule it. Cas should better watch out!” She chuckled out the last words.
“No, y-you don’t understand!” Meg grabbed her friend’s hands, surprising the latter, “I don’t want to try the dress on at all.” Y/N was utterly surprised over her friend's outburst.
“Honey, you have a wedding in less than two months.” Y/N cooed as a few drops of tears rolled down the bride-to-be’s cheeks. “Meg, talk to me. Did something happen between you two?”
The woman shook her head, letting the other lady in the room know that she didn't have to kick Cas’ ass to her relief, but it confused her even further. Since their engagement five months ago, Meg had been over the moon and had started planning every minute detail with high precision and finesse for her big day.
“What if I'm making a huge mistake?”
“Don’t put me in this position. You know how I am when it comes to-”
“But I need to know, and I trust you.”
Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line before she said, “Cas is the best thing that has ever happened to you-”
“You barely even knew me when I started to go out with him. We have only been together for fifteen months - five of which I have spent being engaged to him. What if I regret this later?” Meg's words were correct. Y/N used to barely talk to her when she had started dating Cas, but all through those eighteen months, as she slowly got to know the pair well enough, she knew that they were clearly meant to be in it for the long haul.
“But I have never seen you regret your decision to be with Cas even once… so why start now?.” Y/N politely answered, her hands letting go of her distraught friend's iron-clad grasp and reaching out to soothe her.
“Sometimes even if you have been with your man for what feels like forever, marrying him might seem to be the worst decision you can ever make, but it doesn't matter how long you have been with him. When you know, you know. Follow your heart.” Meg looked up at her as she mulled her words over before speaking.
“I love him.” She said.
“Then go, be with him.” Y/N smiled. Crisis averted.
A smile started to appear on Meg’s tear stained face as her eyes twinkled with a suggestive glimmer in them. Fiddling with her sparkling ring, she said, “Dean’s good for you. Don't let him go.”
Y/N was taken aback by her friend's supposition. She sat up straight in her seat as heat crept up her neck. Her mind was stuck in a turmoil as she tried to come up with an appropriate response.
“He’s not-Dean is not-” She stuttered, the words got stuck in her throat when she tried to think of a decent excuse. Maybe, this was the universe giving her a chance to take back everything she had said before, but the disheartened look on her friend’s face made her rethink her decision. After all, a little white lie never hurt anybody. “Yeah, he is a good man.” Meg smiled as Y/N played her into the deception game once again.
“Will he be at the wedding?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What are you waiting for? Unless he is a figment of your imagination, ask him! I want to meet this certain Dean Winchester.” Meg giggled.
“I don’t have such vivid imaginations, Meg.” Y/N let out a nervous chuckle. She was now being given an ample amount of opportunities to tell the truth, then why was it so hard for her to deny everything she had said? Maybe she liked living in this utopian world where for once, no one deemed her as the broken, pathetic girl who failed to make a man stay. Maybe deep down, she wanted this damn lie to be true.
“I’ll ask him but you do know how men are about weddings.” She replied, having no knowledge of how to keep her end of the promise.
Chapter 3
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