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dearestcynthiaw · 4 months

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Goodbye Stranger - House MD x Reader

Chapter one: World Weary

A young, mild woman, of noble decent, comes face to face with an infamous doctor, not just from the other side of the world but seemingly a whole other time. Will he believe her ridiculous, and quite frankly, impossible story? In House's mind, everybody lies, but is that so for this new, mysterious woman.

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This is my first fanfic in a long time, I'm quite new to Tumblr, so hello!

I'm absolutely infatuated with this series at the moment, so I thought I'd do a bit of writing and play with a concept that makes me ponder. This is very very loosely based on a original character that lives rent free in my mind. I've done a chunk of paintings of her so I'll post a few as headers on some of the chapters. The character in this will go nameless, and is intended to be a self-insert for those reading, therefore I've tagged it as a 'x reader'.

I'm not a doctor and I don't work in medicine so lots of this is research and a little help from a friend who is a nurse, so the knowledge in it will be hit or miss.

Anyway, enjoy!

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It had been a long, hot, blissful summer in the year of 1928. Newly September, the days were starting to get shorter and the trees were turning crisp and orange.

It had been quite a bad week, though bad was quite the understatement. Her uncle was on his deathbed. He’d suffered through a long bout of influenza that was seemingly impossible to recover from. She visited as often as she could, hoping that each visit wouldn't be the last. Her heart was heavy from knowing his death would eventually become inevitable. He had always been a man of great prowess and genuine kindness, which was a rarity in her family, and losing him would shatter her.

Moreover, her fiancé was hurried to hospital after a nasty accident at a rugby match. He hadn't been concentrating when running the length of the pitch, he tripped and was ambushed by the collective. His ankle looked horribly out of shape, one could only imagine how many degrees it had rotated. It looked almost entirely backwards.

Her Fiancé's hospitalisation and her uncle's sickness had caused the worst sleeping patterns. She'd barely had a few hours each night for the past week. As she laid in bed most nights, especially in the early hours of the morning, thoughts and worries flurried through her head. She lay there hoping to God everything would set itself straight.

The exhaustion had impacted every aspect of her day so far, and she had marched up to the central hospital, from her soon to be in-laws townhouse, she felt overwhelmingly drowsy and unsteady. Of course there was no transport to be seen for miles to cut down the walking distance and give her a couple seconds of peace. All servants were out of the house, and it had become increasingly difficult to hail a taxi.

She trudged through the bustling streets, avoiding streams of people surging towards her. She had arrived at roughly 13:11 pip-emma, give or take, hoping that her beloved was already awake and breakfasted, to spare the grumpiness.

Awkwardly she stood, though all else were seated, patiently waiting for the nurse to lead the way to her sweet fiance's room.

She had been called with the added 'Lady' positioned at the very beginning of her name. It had caused a slight shudder to run down her spine as the room of plenty turned to look in her direction, eyebrows quirking in curiosity.

She appeared quite out of place in the very centre of London in a hospital bustling with people who were much different to herself.

Although she never minded her title, she much preferred the simple 'miss'. 'Lady' carried too much sophistication and responsibility, the sort associated with cutting ribbons and giving out writing awards at local schools. It felt far beyond her, she’d always felt sort of, under prepared.

Standing there in her professionally ironed clothing and perfectly soft waved hair, being ogled at, made her feel uncomfortably separate from everyone else.

‘Just this way, You’ll find he’s in quite a pleasant mood today, we’ve been able to better control his pain since you’ve last seen him.’ The nurse turned to face the Lady, with a sweet smile as they walked the extensive, dismal hallways.

The door was ajar, and from the threshold she could see a well lit room, far different to the rest of the hospital. There were bouquets of flowers scattered about, along with ‘Get Well Soon’ cards that were crammed upon the limited surfaces. There were excessive amounts of sweetmeats and sugary treats upon the bed and sideboard. This man had only been admitted the day before and he already received a hefty amount of goods. It wouldn't be long before he had to pack it all up and head home.

She had been loudly interrupted from her thoughts with a cheerful ‘What-ho sweetheart!’. The nurse was quite right, he was much more sprightly today.

‘I say, take a seat, this chair or that, you might even be allowed to perch on my bed a while!’ Snorting, he motioned towards a patch on his bed that wasn’t decorated with an array of sweets.

‘You look quite at home here. Should I be assured that they’re looking after you well?’ Her eyes were glued to his bubbly expression. It was quite surprising for a man who had been writhing about in pain on a muddy pitch the day prior.

‘Quite, quite, very well indeed. Though, I can’t ever seem to get any service here. They’re always ignoring me. I don’t ask that much of them.’

It was almost certain that he did, it could only presume that he wanted to be pandered to and pampered as though he was on the coast of France in some lavish hotel.

She could only look at him with a sense of pity, she only saw a man who was in a great deal of pain and was pushing through with a gleaming smile.

She found she was at quite a loss for words, sympathising with him wouldn't do as he'd only push himself to show he wasn't entirely helpless. This always put him in a worse state. ‘Do you know when you might be coming home?’ was all she could think of after the momentary silence.

‘Oh yes, yes, it was supposed to be today, but I’ve asked to be held on until tomorrow. Charlie from the club said he’d drive me home.’

‘You don’t want me to take you home? I can do it later today when Dobson gets back, he has the key to the shed where my car is-’ Again she applied a bright smile, hoping she could be of help. ‘You’ll only have to wait till 3. It’s really not that long darling.’

‘Gosh no, I don’t like it when you drive, makes me feel like a helpless sod.’

Lightly exhaling and nodding she looked down at her hands in her lap.

And again he spoke; ‘You’ll have to bring me a glass of water dearest, I can’t get the attention of anyone at this bloody hospital. And I'm bloody parched!' He seemed to let out a sort of huff; boyishly crossing his arms.

As she stood and started to walk, he shouted after her ‘Oh! And grab a doctor for me too, there’s something I need him to see.’

With a sweet smile and a light nod she turned on her heel, heading back for that ominous, dark hallway.

A short way down she found a small cupboard, one with a tap and a couple glasses and other bits and pieces to accommodate patients and guests.

Just before fetching a glass, she lent over and placed her head on the counter, with her arms cradling her head. She let out a long exhale to release some of the stress of the day. The exhaustion was starting to catch up, she could so easily have a quick nap with her head on the cold surface.

Finally gathering the energy to move, she lifted a glass and ran the tap, making sure she didn’t fill the vessel with lukewarm water.

Someone must have closed the door whilst she took her momentary rest, as when she turned she was confronted by the clinical white passageway that was firmly shut.

With a heavy push she dislodged the door from its threshold and found herself to be completely disoriented. Nothing looked the same. She thought that maybe she had taken a long route to this small cupboard and had simply forgotten the way she came.

She was completely surrounded by shelves upon shelves of supplies. There was only one other door and it was straight ahead. She turned again, wandering back inside the smaller room with the sink, studying her surroundings to see if there was another entrance that she might have overseen. Yet there was nothing.

She finally settled on advancing towards the opposite door, walking between the sets of shelves that carried an array of different peculiar items that resembled medical arsenal, none of which she had ever seen used before, but yet again, she didn’t spend much time hanging around hospitals to see what new advances were made in the field.

Just as she reached for the door handle, it began to pull downwards as a force was applied to the opposite side.

Jumping back in surprise and slight panic, feeling as though she had wandered into the wrong part of the building, she had no time to think out a possible explanation before the door was fully open.

The man that was stood there gave her a wide eyed look, appearing equally as perplexed as herself.

She quickly took in his figure, he was no doubt tall, taller then most of the men that she knew, and was scruffily dressed, she wondered if he might have taken a wrong turn too.

Taking in a quick breath she squeaked; ‘Are you lost too?’

‘No.’ He had a distinctive accent as he bluntly said the singular word.

‘I’m in your way, sorry, I’ll just-’ She peered to his side noting the direction she was heading.

‘How did you get in here?’ His eyebrow quirked.

‘Through that door.’ She pointed behind herself, his eyes quickly following her movement. There was nothing there. No door in sight, as though it had never been there to begin with.

She looked back at him in surprise ‘I could have sworn-’

With that he let out a bark of laughter. She felt ever so small and grew red in the face.

‘I must be tired, but I swear that's where I came from.’

‘No door there sweetheart, never was.’

Her mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, yet no sound came out. ‘I better get back to my fiancé.’

‘You haven’t answered my question.’ He attempted to stop her proceeding.

‘Well, I don’t really have much of an answer, because I certainly don’t remember entering through the door you’re standing in.’

‘This door was locked, did someone let you in? What you looking for, is it drugs? Could’ve just asked.’ Now she spotted his walking stick, he was leaning onto it, slightly blocking the way so he could continue interrogating her.

‘How dare you, I wouldn’t do anything like that.’

‘They all say that.’

‘Can I just get through? I need to take this to my fiancé.’ She raised the glass in her hand.

‘What ward?’

‘Somerset Ward.’ Her answers were getting shorter as she became frazzled by the constant questions.

‘Haven’t heard of that one before.’

‘It’s fine, I’ll find my own way.’

‘You still haven’t answered my question.’

‘Look, I really haven’t got a clue. Can I go now please?’ She gave a hapless sigh as she was getting to the end of her tether.

He stepped aside, yet seemed to follow her as she stepped into an unfamiliar hall. It was bright white, almost blinding. It looked like an entry to the hospital, one that she’d never seen before. There were people scattered everywhere, wearing clothing very different from her own. She turned back to look at her interrogator with a look of shock and slight horror. ‘What is this?’

‘A hospital.’ He started to limp away, towards what looked like a reception desk. ‘You coming?’ She could see him leaning over the desk having a bit of a natter with a person sat there. She slowly got closer observing every detail in front of her. The gadgets and do-dads that adorned each desk and clinical colours that decorated the whole room. She'd never seen anything like this before. She must've ended up on the other side of the building, maybe a more experimentative wing compared to the others.

She stepped closer to what looked like a reception desk, momentarily placing down her glass of water.

‘Name?’ Came a sudden voice that carried a very similar accent to the male that she had encountered in that odd cupboard. She couldn’t quite see, until a lady poked her head out behind a silver sort of implement about the width of a brief case or small luggage holder.

There, she gave her full name in the presence of this strange man, middle name and all. A pattering sound began, like one you would hear from a typewriter, but without the obnoxious ‘ping’.

‘Dr House!’ This woman bellowed, only now realising that he’d started to wander away.

‘Can’t find a name on the system.’

‘You’re trying to find my records? I’m not a patient here, I’m only visiting. Besides you won’t find it by typing, it’ll be in paper form, I thought that was the same for everyone?'

‘Sorry dear, Dr House told me you’d found your way off the psychiatric ward, your name isn't even on the database.’ This woman behind the desk looked directly into her eyes, showing vague sympathy.

‘You think I’m mad?!’ She cried at the ’doctor’.

He continued to move away, towards what looked like a metal cladded elevator ‘Would explain the confusion.’ He shouted over the room of, what she could presume were patients waiting to be seen.

She quickly jammed her arm into the door of the metal contraption before it fully closed.

‘I am tired, but I’m certainly not out of my mind. I think you're having a joke with this whole thing. Who set you up to this? It’s really not funny. Can you just tell me what part of the hospital I've ended up in and I’ll be on my way.’

Again an amused smirk graced his face ‘You’re in the clinic.’

‘Well I’d gathered that from the sign above my head, but none of this is recognisable. I’ve been to the clinic before but it didn’t look anything like this.’

‘You sure you got the right hospital?’ He seemed so disinterested in giving any useful information.

‘Well yes, I’m in London-’

‘Well there we go, you’d better find your way back onto the crazy people ward, you’ve forgotten what country you're in. Next it’ll be what year from the look of you.’ He glanced down at her dress, to him it looked outdated.

‘Can you stop that? Tell me seriously now.’ She appeared panicked, worse than she had been previously. She had hit the verge of begging.

With a sigh he gave up on the teasing ‘Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. You happy now?’

‘Princeton, New Jersey?’ Her hands were starting to shake, struggling to keep the elevator door open. She’d only ever seen this place in atlases that she used to flick through in her childhood home’s extensive library.

‘Where else?’

‘No no no no no, this isn't possible.’ She stepped inside quickly before the door slammed shut. Putting her face in her hands and taking shuddering breaths.‘You’re definitely not lying right? This isn’t a joke anymore. It's all very funny, but are you sure this isn’t just an American part of the hospital and you’re just pulling my leg?’

The doctor seemed to ignore her and continue to look straight ahead, both hands on his cane.

The door to, what she had now concluded was indeed an elevator, slid open and he stepped out. She hurried after him and as she began to walk beside him he halted, staring directly at the side of her head, fierce enough to burn holes into her skull.

‘You can leave me alone now. I’m not going to help you get a plane ticket or whatever you are pestering me for. Go back to the 1920s or whatever F.Scott Fitzgerald book you think you came out of. If this is some tasteful prostitution then give me a ring later. Goodbye.’ And with that he veered off into a room that was made up of mostly glass panels.

The door flew shut and finally revealed this man's full name and title ‘GREGORY HOUSE M.D. DEPARTMENT OF DIAGNOSTIC MEDICINE’

Though he seemed to be warning her, she still pushed forth, entering the office space ‘Aren’t doctors supposed to help people?’ She had never been so forthright, if she were back at home she would’ve taken that as a forewarning and scampered off like a scared mouse.

Dr House was now sitting hunched over at the desk, eyes glued to another one of those abnormal briefcase things that casted a blue tinged light over his face.

‘Are you not listening to me or are you just plain deaf? I said goodbye.’

‘I’m not taking that as the end of the conversation, Dr House.’ Her confidence was building, though it was most likely the adrenaline surging through her veins. She took steps closer to him, peering down at the jumbled items upon his desk. Odds and ends and many stacks of paper were littered about like a white blanket covering the entirety of the desk.

Her eye caught on one document reading today's date in the margain with a completely unrecognisable year. ‘2006’.

Her eyes bulged and her head seemed to be endlessly screaming. There was a fuzzy static sound that ringed in her ears and her breathing became short. Throughout the whizzing of her mind, she remained completely silent and still.

‘Patient confidentiality, don’t you know.’ He said flipping over the paper she had been gawking at.

‘Two-thousand and six.’ was what she muttered beneath her breath.

‘So you really are that deranged. The whole get up is all part of the act. Are you living out a fantasy or something?’

‘It’s 2006? It’s 1928, your document is wrong. I mean this could be a very elaborate joke or is this a film set?’

‘You’ll have to pay me overtime if you keep asking me all these questions. $300 and you’ll get the full package, what d’you say Marty.’

'Are you still insinuating that I am a whore?’ She now began to grit her teeth. ‘And that is not my name-' She was cut off whilst she was reprimanding him.

'I’m the whore here, I’m the one offering my body, Marty. Now, what would that make me? Doc Brown? nah, maybe a generational relative from the future. Really spooky stuff. What have you come to tell me? About my impending death or bad life choices? Because you're a bit late.' Resting his head on his hands he looked up inquisitively.

'I really don't understand-?' She spoke whilst shaking her head.

''Course you don't ' He pulled his lips thin, eyes widening and shrugging his shoulders. ’You think you're a time traveller and I’m here to tell you to head back down those stairs to where you belong, in the psychiatric ward.’

Her face twisted in disgust as he spoke such cruel, unadulterated words. She could feel the tears in the back of her eyes. No one was going to believe her, she barely even believed it herself.

‘What? Am I supposed to play along? Oops!’ His actions were so animated as he lifted a hand to his mouth.

He picked up what could've been a phone and brought it to his ear chatting with someone on the other end and began typing vigorously.

‘Looks like they'll have to book you in. No records here. Oh, tell you what, let's Google you, see what we can find.’

‘Google?’ She rubbed her forehead with worry.

‘What fun, you're still playing along.’ His words carried an underlying bite. ‘Here we go, nice, so you're daddy's an Earl and you live in a big mansion and have lots of money. I'm not surprised that you picked this woman to claim as your identity. It's full of all those fun parts. You've gone the extra mile too, editing a photo of yourself amongst your fictional family, how sweet.’ He turned the screen around and there was a photo of her and her brothers.

Gasping in shock she spluttered ‘How did you get that?! That’s a private photograph!’

‘How did you do it then, Marty? Did you change the whole of this Wiki page to suit you?’ He tutted.

Standing silent in the emptiness of this office was like torture. She bit her tongue to stop the tears and prevent the endless wrath of words she was holding back. ‘How could you be so cruel, Dr House?’ She shook her head. ‘I thought you were going to help me.’ Her words were wavering as she spoke softly.

He raised his shoulders once again lifting his hands up to display mock confusion ‘What is there to help?’.

And with those last few words she turned, flying out of the room.

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‘World Weary’ - Noël Coward 1928

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~ It was an early morning yesterday, I was up before the dawn ~

#House #Housemd #Housexreader #Gregoryhouse #Gregoryhousexreader #timetravel #1920s #x reader #reader insert #house x reader #house md #house md x reader #gregory house x reader

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deadbeat-motel · 2 months

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Just saw and commented on your new sinner designs, LOVE them all so much!

I do have to ask because your Deadbeat Motel lives rent-free in my head at this point, already a much better execution than HH IMO. Would Charlie and Valerie be tryna redeem Crymini, Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb- and possibly Husk and Nifty- or would their main focus of redemption still just be Angel Dust?

And one more question, does our silly awkward transmasc anglerfish king Baxter come into this story at all?

Ah! I'm really happy to hear that since I've been using this as an exercise in writing and character-building. Plus It's genuinely the only way I'm able to enjoy HH as I'm fixing so many big issues that I have about it wasting the potential of some genuinely amazing and creative concepts. (AngelDust, Charlie and Nifty come into mind)

Also, I'm really glad you asked (since looking at my schedule, it might take me a while to finish everyone's rewrites and redesigns) So here's the answer to your question (and a sprinkle of trivia about Deadbeat Motel):

Charlie, Redemption and the Sinners:

Charlie and Valerie will be focusing on redeeming Every sinner of the motel, including Alastor (who in this rewrite, is not a patron of the hotel but a powerful overlord who was roped into this project because of Lilith's meddling).

The sinners and Valerie all have varying degrees of faith in this project (A little spoiler-y but who cares, I'm not making an Amazon show.): > Valerie is in this project because she too wants to know if there is a chance for a sinner (maybe even her) can find some way to become good enough to be accepted in heaven. Despite having been taught to know that the answer is "no.", Charlie has taught her to believe in what others think is impossible. > Angel Dust is honestly only here because it's the first place that feels safe for him. He doesn't believe it's possible to redeem him but he's happy enough to have a place that Val can't find some way to ruin. > Despite his pessimistic outlook, there's a part of him that would want redemption to be possible. His son died fairly young and was in heaven, so far out of his reach. If redemption is possible, then maybe he can see him again. > Nifty is indifferent, to her, it was all grown-up talk she wasn't interested in. Redemption? Blegh, if it was a boy, it would most certainly be one she would stray away from. > Cherri Bomb doesn't care about redemption and frankly thinks it's impossible, she's just here because no other Women Group wants her and this is the only one that wants to accept her that has only 3 men. Even if it's possible, she doubts that the people she hurt want to forgive her. > Crymini doesn't even fully understand why she's here and hates hell. She's just in this project because she thinks she deserves to be up there in heaven. She doesn't believe she needs to do any kind of redeeming. > Alastor has absolutely no faith in the project and that he can be redeemed, he thinks it a waste of time as he knows that even certain people belong in hell (Overlords like himself for example. Humans who earned that spot in hell for their Heinous sins while they were alive.) He's only here because he struck a deal with Lilith to look after Charlie. > Pentious...... I'm still working on her

If I had to rank them from Most redeemable to irredeemable, It'd be: Crymini -> Husk -> Pentious -> Nifty -> Angel Dust -> CherriBomb -> Alastor

Oh! and to be true to the name, they are actually running a small motel instead of the grand hotel we see in the show proper. It makes it feel a lot more tight-knit.

Baxter:

To be real honest with you, I have no idea how to write Baxter into this since There's not much I know of the guy and I try to not have duplicates in this rewrite. The mad scientist role already belongs to Pentious. I might make him Pentious' partner in crime, and possibly make Cherri Bomb feel somewhat threatened that some person may have her snake's heart before she does.

Also, Baxter is the one character I might not want to redesign because miraculously, this is the first Vivziepop design that I have absolutely no problems with. I don't even mind the little bowler hat. It's absolutely adorable!

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #deadbeat motel rewrite #asks stuff #woah this is really long... whoops

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aromanticbuck · 1 year

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cozy trio ask (the new fic is amazing !!!)

if you had to place the trio in a typical fanfic au (eg. flowershop/tattoo parlour, coffee store/bookstore, etc.) which au would it be, and who would play which role?

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Hello again, nonny!

I'm doing a writing challenge this year with Cozy Trio as the ship for all of my fics in the challenge (I'll reblog the post about it later tonight), and I've been thinking about the free of them in a coffeeshop AU since seeing the post yesterday since that's the prompt I'm leaning toward for July. So I'll start there.

In a Coffeeshop AU... here's the thing. I've already made moodboards for barista!Mouse and barista!Jay. I have post-war, post-addiction Mouse making a new life for himself and falling for his regular customer, Det. Halstead. And I have post-war Jay serving tea to his emotional support spoiled rich boy every afternoon. So it's Hailey's turn, right?

So, barista!Hailey, serves a strong cup of coffee (secretly with a little extra sugar that he never tells anyone about) to Jay every morning, perfectly put together and ready for his day before he even walks through the door. Usually about an hour later, she prepares an even sweeter cup of tea to Mouse, who is a rumpled mess of shirts that don't fit him and hair that's had fingers run through it a few too many times. They come in together every once in a while, that's how she knows they're friends, and she jokingly flirts with both of them because they're cute and leave good tips (it takes a couple months before Mouse tries to put a stop to her flirting with him, just a little "you know I'm gay, right?" and it doesn't stop her but it does get a little more... over the top? a little more obviously fake, more teasing than flirting, and he does it back, which Jay rolls his eyes at whenever it happens in front of him)

How do they get together? Unsure. I have 6 months to figure that out, though.

As for tattoo artist/florist, I've actually come up with an expanded concept of that, for an ot3 I had back when I wrote for Marvel? The moodboards are here on my blog, if anyone wants to check it out, but the short version is tattoo parlor/flower shop/bookstore all on the same block, and the owners of all the stores are friends and then all get together.

Mouse is the florist, I think. He wears a lot of florals in canon? Not enough but also... four shirts. He wears four floral shirts in canon. And that's just on screen. I want to follow the flower motif for him as much as possible, it makes me so happy. the sunflower shirt from 1x15 lives in my mind rent free at all times

Hailey as a tattoo artist fascinates me. Can I explain it? No. But do I know in my soul that she would do great and probably love ever second of it? Yeah. bonus points that both she and Mouse are pursuing careers that their parents would absolutely hate for them, like I could put a lot of angst in here about that but I'm behaving

Does Jay owning a bookstore make sense? No. But mostly just because I'm fully on board with @kitthekazoo's headcanon that his ADHD just made it difficult to learn those skills - like reading and writing and math - at the same pace as his peers when he was young. He can read, it's just not something he enjoys because he associates it with that struggle and disappointment from his father. However... editing that third profession so it's maybe... following in his father's footsteps and becoming a mechanic? and his shop is on the same block as Mouse's flower shop and Hailey's tattoo parlor? I love that. I love that a lot.

something something Jay following his father's dreams for him vs Mouse rejecting the family tech/investment track and Hailey rejecting the restaurant business... I have a lot of thoughts here but I don't know if they're coherent yet.

Also... something about putting the Mouse&Hailey relationship, which I keep completely platonic in all of my Cozy Trio AUs, in the roles that are typically the romantic cliché in this kind of universe is so satisfying. I love turning things upside down for no reason. I live for that kind of quiet chaos.

Thanks so much for this! I had a lot of fun thinking about these! And who knows, maybe I'll write the tattoo artist/florist/mechanic idea for December when that prompt comes around!

#answered #alex says things #anon #⚡ anon #jay halstead #hailey upton #mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #upstead #moustead #mouseupstead #cozy trio #cpd #chicago pd #one chicago

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watching-pictures-move · 1 year

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Movie Review | Diplomatic Immunity (Maris, 1991)

I've admitted elsewhere that the possibility of making a joke review has definitely influenced my decision to see certain movies. And if I can let you in on a secret, that was the case here. You see, the title of the movie is a line from a buddy cop movie many of you have seen, and I was gonna make a joke to that effect. Here it goes:

*Marge Simpson voice* "We have Lethal Weapon 2 at home."

There. Now you know. See, when you read my reviews, you don't just get my thoughts on the movies, but a little insight into what makes me tick, and what goes into the process of writing these up. Please don't hit unfollow. Now, because I'm long winded, you're gonna get a few more thoughts about this one, because quite frankly it would be a little sad if that terrible joke was all I got out of it. So like Patricia Charbonneau in Call Me, I'm going to squeeze some more juice out of this movie. See, more insights into the process. Please don't hit unfollow.

Now, as you can guess from the title, the concept of diplomatic immunity figures heavily into the plot. The hero's daughter has been killed by some scumbag who happens to be the son of a Parayguan diplomat, and thanks to the concept of diplomatic immunity, he's able to get off scot-free, inspiring the hero to fly down to Paraguay to get his revenge. This falls in the tradition of action movies who take a certain legal concept and shape their entire worldview around it. In Dirty Harry and any number of policiers, Miranda Rights are what's on the mind. Here, and in Lethal Weapon 2, a substantially better movie in every respect, it's diplomatic immunity. The movie even takes a minute to explain the concept, making the assumption that the viewer hasn't already seen Lethal Weapon 2 and probably rented this one by mistake.

Now, the biggest problem with this movie is that the production values don't allow for the kind of thrills one would hope for given the premise. Some of the fun of movies where characters go to shoot up third world countries is that A) you usually get to spend time in a halfway exotic locale (usually a politically friendly country standing in for the real or fictitious country the movie is set in) and B) you get a pretty respectable body count with all the enemy soldiers getting blown away by the heroes. Here, you get some uniforms that look like they might be foreign, but none of the locales glimpsed in the movie suggest they ever left the continental US. Lots of scenes running through alleys, hallways, nondescript streets, and lots of low energy chases and shootouts. And the obvious low budget means that only a handful of henchmen stand in the way of the heroes in any given scene. The sky high body counts of Commando, Rambo, McBain or even a Cannon Films production are not within the movie's grasp.

This might have been a non-issue had the movie gone all in on the sleazy angles of the material, but this is a case where the movie was probably made a decade too late. I'm a fan of Peter Maris' earlier film Delirium, which moves fast and has a nice grimy, exploitation texture. This lacks such qualities, and feels silky smooth when it should be coarse like sandpaper. This isn't due to the lack of sleazy elements, however. The scumbag likes to torture women and take their pictures as he kills them so he can use their faces for his fucked up paintings. He also uses the faces of his mother Meg Foster, with whom he has a creepy relationship, and his mistress, who explains Fabiana Udenio, who explains how he's into BDSM in his personal life, and despite his hankering for torture, is actually a submissive. I believe that makes him a switch, if we're using the proper parlance. She also explains the concept of BDSM to the hero, and like with the earlier explanation of diplomatic immunity it leads me to believe that the screenwriters kept a dictionary handy throughout their process. I should note that she does this after trying to taze the hero while she has on a gimp mask, although the rest of the movie is nowhere near as sexy, especially as it has the veneer of a TV movie. (I should note that the mistress also has a strained relationship with her father, making parental issues something of a recurring theme in the movie.)

Now, if you're still gonna watch this, I should note some of the casting makes this a bitter better. Billy Drago as an arms dealer who decides to help the hero is easily the best part about the whole thing, as he brings an unpredictability to the material thanks to his normally villainous casting. You get the sense that he's not helping the hero out of the goodness of his heart, but because he likes killing people and is awful good at it and won't turn down a chance to kill some more. Sadly, he's not in nearly enough of the movie, for reasons I assume had to do with availability. (Although...it's not like he's an A-lister. He can't be that busy.) And Meg Foster is effectively icy in her creepy as hell role as the villain's mother, staring him down on multiple occasions with her impossibly blue eyes. (On that note, if there's a movie where Foster shoots laser beams from her eyes, please let me know.) And you get Robert Forster as a shady CIA guy (although I guess the adjective is redundant in most cases) and Ken Foree as a sympathetic bartender, although neither has enough screentime. As the lead, Bruce Boxleitner is... fine, but despite the movie's attempts to convince me that he was a super deadly black ops guy, his whole vibe was "your friend's dad who's having a midlife crisis so he bought a leather jacket." Honestly, if you made this a decade earlier and swapped him with Forster, this would be at least fifty percent better. There, I've fixed the movie.

#film #movie review #diplomatic immunity #peter maris

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thicksimpx · 2 years

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Hello, hello, hello ❤️

Might I make a request for Professor Gojo headcannon/scenario with a bimbo!reader who’s not doing the best in his class 👉🏾👈🏾

I love you sweet thang 🥰

I love you more Mamas 😘😘 i cant pass up writing about this sexy 6 eyed bitch 😩😩😩😩😩 This scenario has been living in my mind rent free every since I wrote Three’s company 😂😂😂

Professor Gojo x Bimbo!Reader

Warnings : mature content, mature language, manipulation, delayed orgasm, rough fingering, teacher/student relationship, quizzing 😂😂

To say your human sexuality professor was hot is an absolute understatement. The concept of beauty is ever changing depending on the person, time and place, theres no real definition. However, you were convinced, Professor Gojo was the Epitome of Beauty.

The way his pale blue eyes sparkled as he glared at your dazed out form from above his glasses. How his voice echoed around the room when he called out your name causing the entire class to turn and look at you. Why doesn’t he like me? You halfway laugh as you sink into your seat in embarrassment for the 5th time this week.

“Ms L/n! I’m going to need you to stay after class” He must get off on embarrassing me.

“Yes sir” you salute earning a laugh from your peers and a scoff from the professor. Sighing you opened your book and found the page of today’s lesson. You already knew it all, of course. You’ve been studying hard to get on his good side after all.

——

As class ended you stayed seated while everyone else disappeared through the door. The light footsteps of Your professor making his way over to you made you sink further into your seat and look down at your plush thighs as best as you could over your insanely large breast while your heart hammered in your chest.

Slamming his hand down on your desk, you jump in your seat. He must be really mad.

“You’re very pretty you know, despite being an idiot and all.” He says in the most tender tone you’ve ever heard from him. You finally look up from your lap to meet his eyes to be met with eyes of a hungered beast. You shift in your seat as you analyzed his face, cunt clenching on nothing. He’s so handsome.

“Im sure, you know you’re failing this class Y/n” a shiver went down your spine from the way your name rolled off his tongue. “Of course, I want nothing more than to give you …” he leans closer to whisper in your ear. “A D, but .. “ he giggles a little top giddy as he begins walking back to his desk. “Thats only if you want to work for it”

“Yes! I’ll work for it! What it takes!” You stand and shout, following after him before you can even process the words that came out of your mouth.

“Good to hear” he smiles brightly. As you approach him he cups your chin, “I’ll like to offer from private tutoring session with me. Beginning now. Get on your knees on the desk” he demands, smile long gone as he glares.

Tilting your head in confusion you up just stare up at him batting your eyes as if you didn’t even hear him. Clicking his teeth, in a swift motion he yanks you toward him, flips you around and slams your face to his desk.

“If at any point you’re uncomfortable or would rather take the F. Let me know” he says low enough for you to hear.

Pulling up his chair, he sits behind you as your ass is in the air with your body laying over his desk. He runs his hands up your thighs flipping your skirt back to expose your Victoria secret panties that barley cover your cunt. Pulling them to the side he teases your cunt a bit before dipping in two fingers Making you melt into the desk. Rolled back and mouth gaped open, you relish in the pleasure you’re receiving from someone other than yourself.

The handle of the door to the classroom rattles and your eyes snap open. You forgot where you were for a moment.

“Professor Go- the door. We’re going to get caught” you huff gripping his hand to pull his fingers out of you. As he thrust faster into you. Body moving faster than your brain you lift a leg onto the desk to spread yourself wider.

“Dont worry” he chuckles lightly “ it’s locked from the outside.” You nod pushing yourself back into his hands and start riding his fingers, covering your mouth to help bite back your moans in hopes the students outside the door. Your Orgasm so close you could taste it.

“Now, A person who engages in the scientific study of sexual behavior is known as a …?”

“Ahhh - huh??” Your brows knit together as the pressure in your core builds up. Ignoring the odd question you continue to ride his fingers seconds away from your orgasm, cunt squeezing his fingers like a vice grip.

Roughly, Professor Gojo smacked your ass and snatches out his fingers leaving your body twitching uncontrollably as your orgasm was ripped away from you. Drool pooling on the table under you as you cried out in desperation.

“The correct answer was Sexologist, a Sexologist engages in the scientific study of sexual behavior” he says standing over you, looking down on you in disgust.

“I-i dont understand. I thought if I let you do what you wanted I’ll pass the class” you sobbed.

“Did you think you were LETTING me finger you for a D?” He lets out a hearty laugh making you turn around, teary eyes glaring at him. “Sweet heart, your beautiful and your body is banging. But lets make something clear..” Leaning over you he roughly grips your face. “If you want to pass this class, if you want to cum, you’re going to answer these questions correctly or you’re going to be shaking for the ………next three hours” he laughs looking down at his watch.

“Understood?”

-------

Please becauseee ... I'll continue this, who doesn't want to be educated while Gojo abuses our cunt ??

tags - @pervysenpaix, @gabzlovesu, @luffysthickwaifu, @happygoluckyalexis, @mastermindenoshimaalicia , @dejwrites, @angwritez, @plussizeficchick, @riozakii, @presidentmonica, @dabilovesme, @yuujispinkhair

#gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #Professor Gojo Satoru #smut #gojo headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru smut #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk fandom #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

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sambvcks · 3 years

Text

redefined, b.b. x reader

summary: just because those ten words no longer wreak havoc on his mind does not mean they are gone. just redefined.

warnings: mentions of food, blood, gunshot wound

word count: 3.7k....whoops

author’s note: first standalone! i’m also itching to work on a sam story next. the last episode still lives in my mind rent free and this is a reworking of that which diverges from civil war and we get one big happy avenging family that aren’t dead :)

[ read on ao3 | masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

Longing

An Avenger.

The concept was still so foreign to Bucky, despite dozens of successful missions under his belt and a permanent residence in the tower. Still, every morning he sprung up in bed expecting to still be in some run-down apartment halfway across the world, on the run.

Instead, he would awake on a plush mattress that offered little back support. He would shuck on the first shirt his bleary eyes could see and pad into the hallway, the smell of fresh coffee overtaking his superhuman sense of smell. You would be perched at the kitchen counter, pouring over mission files stained with coffee rings that Tony would later complain about.

Steve and Sam would have already come through on their way to their morning run, the coffee pot running dangerously low. You’d already placed his favorite mug nearby, two packets of sugar emptied into the bottom. A routine.

Bucky didn’t think he’d ever have a routine again.

His hand would press against your shoulder in a familiar greeting as he passed, you’d grin up at him with sleepy eyes and a lazy smile before returning to your work. Your cereal sat forgotten beside you, the overly sweetened kid’s choice growing soggy.

It was a silent and comfortable interaction. Neither worked to fill the quiet or felt the need to. Even with Steve, there was always talking and planning and ‘what about this’. With you, it was so natural to just exist how he was in that moment. No excuses, no whispered apologies.

He pushed his back against the sink as he sipped at his coffee, eyes immediately settling on your distracted figure. Your pajamas were wrinkled, mouth formed into a perfect concentrated from as you hunched uncomfortably, hand scribbling furiously. He swallowed and decided you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, especially with your coffee breath and fingernails chewed to nubs.

He wanted so desperately to move across the kitchen and press himself perfectly against you, to push aside your paperwork and demand your sole attention. His hand clenched into a fist as he longed to feel your soft, round cheeks in his hands, how warm you would feel against the cool metal of his left and how you’d nuzzle closer still.

He hadn’t heard the dragging footsteps of Steve and Sam returning from their run and didn’t even notice them until they were settled at the doorway, watching him watch you.

“Morning.” Steve grinned, all knowing. Bucky cleared his throat and refocused on his mug.

“Morning.” Bucky replied with a look that said ‘don’t say anything’.

Rusted

Bucky learned that if you weren’t cooped up in your room or camped out on the kitchen island, you were tucked away in Tony’s garage. On slow days where it seemed everyone was off in their own little world, Bucky would know to find you under the hood of one of Tony’s vintage cars, each kept in pristine condition, but you claimed that ‘there’s always something to work on’.

Bucky was never a car guy. His family was too poor to even think of ever owning his own car. He didn’t even have his own license and technically couldn’t legally ride his bike either. He found out quickly that being an Avenger meant the term legal could be bent a bit. So, he wasn’t a car guy. But the sight of you with streaks of grease across your face and your raggedy workshop clothes would have him buying one just to see you work on it.

You were notoriously protective of your little hideaway, the music loud and the sound of metal ringing as you fixed and fiddled with every little thing. Steve nearly got a wrench to the face when he tried to distract you from Tony’s antique Chevy.

Bucky was different, though. He was always different.

He would sit himself on a tall stool positioned next to one of Tony’s many rolling tool chests. You’d call out a tool and he’d rifle through the collection until he found what he thought was the right one and only slightly tease him when he’d emerge with the wrong one. Typically, you’d spend these afternoons in silence, the thumping of the heavy base of whatever crazy metal album you picked the only soundtrack to your work.

Sometimes, though, you’d play gentle rock music. Bucky would ask questions on what you were doing, how you learned to do all of this, why you did it when Tony worked on these cars enough for the both of you.

You’d fish your rag from your pocket, concentrating on scrubbing the grease from under your fingernails as you answered.

“I like using my hands. I like fixing things. For every car that Tony has in this garage, there are hundreds just like it sitting in junkyards gathering cobwebs and rust.” You looked up at him from under eyelashes and Bucky knew you were speaking about much more than just hunks of metal. “They’re worthy of love and care.”

You were talking about him, too.

Seventeen

Bucky didn’t think this superhero business would have so many parties. There seemed to be a celebration for everything. Galas, fundraisers, full on parades whenever Tony happened to wake up in a good mood.

At least this one is a holiday, he thought to himself as he nursed his third beer of the hour. Not that it did anything other than keep his hands occupied.

The year was coming to a close, and the top floor of the Avengers Tower was decked in golden confetti and banners to ensure no one forgot. The music was obnoxiously loud, and the lyrics made little sense, but everyone seemed to be having a good time mingling and even venturing to the dance floor.

No matter how many times Sam tried to drag him in with an invisible rope, Bucky was not going to dance. Well. Maybe he would if you asked.

The party had been in full swing for hours now, with only ten minutes until the ball a few blocks up finally dropped and he could sneak away to his room without a teasing ‘bedtime already, old timer?’ from Nat.

Still, the party raged on and he eyed the glass door to the balcony. He downed the last of his beer, brushing past enthusiastic partygoers with his shoulders hunched forward in some attempt to minimize the space he took up in the room that only seemed to be getting smaller. He caught Steve’s eye on the way out and plastered on a smile in response to his disappointed look.

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as soon as the glass door slid closed behind him. His eyes closed as he leaned back against it, the chill of the December New York air blew his hair in every direction.

“Fancy meeting you here.” You were sat in the far corner, so well hidden he hadn’t even noticed you, though he had been on the lookout for you all night. “Tired of the festivities?”

“And Tony’s music.” He grumbled as he fell into the seat beside you.

“Been waiting for you for the past thirty minutes. Honestly, you made it a lot longer than I could’ve in there.”

You were waiting for him. You wanted him to be there, with you, tucked away from everyone else’s prying eyes. He wanted that, too. Sometimes he wanted it so much it scared him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll. It’s not polite for a gentleman to make a girl wait.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.” Your shoulder pressed against his, eyes focused on the smattering of buildings surrounding you. Identical parties were happening in each of them, you were sure. “Can you believe another year is gone?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to make it to 2017 and my back hasn’t given out yet.”

You laughed, loud and unabashedly in a way only Bucky could make you laugh. Head thrown back and eyes glittering from the city lights, Bucky wanted to spend every new year you would allow him to by your side, trying his best to make you laugh again.

“Well,” You stood to peer over the glass railing, Bucky close behind you. You could hear the drunken cries inside as the countdown begun. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” Bucky offered his hand to you. You took it easily.

5, 4, 3…

He wanted nothing more than to pull you close, to finally press a kiss on the lips that had thrown teasing remarks at him during missions. To once and for all end this little dance you both loved so much. But you looked so perfect.

Bucky wasn’t ready to ruin that perfection with everything wrong with him quite yet.

“Happy 2017, Bucky.” You whispered as the fireworks started, but Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes from you.

“Happy 2017, doll.”

Daybreak

The mission had been long and grueling. The week-long stakeout turned into two and quickly turned into a month away. You can’t remember the last time you’d had a good night of sleep that wasn’t interrupted with Bucky’s hand on your shoulder, telling you it was your turn to keep watch.

It wasn’t a horrible mission, more of an exercise in patience and restraint than anything. Bucky’s stories kept you entertained enough, and he was a good partner. Which is why you were paired together more often than not.

Still, it was nice to finally collapse into your familiar bed, not even bothering to kick of shoes or take a much-needed shower. Your sleeping schedule was all out of whack and you tossed and turned, despite the exhaustion seeping through your bones.

After fifteen minutes, you finally huffed a sigh of defeat and stumbled back to your feet. You showered, which was a few good days overdue, and dressed in your largest, most comfortable pajamas.

You weren’t surprised to see Bucky up as well, sitting at the dining table with a mug of fresh coffee.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His foot kicked out the seat beside him as an invitation.

“Sleeps overrated, anyways.” You shrugged, slumping into the seat and pressing your face into the cool glass of the table.

“Sleep is good for you.” He insisted, reaching forward to brush aside the hair that had curtained over your face. “You deserve a good night’s rest.”

“So do you, Buck.”

He stayed silent for a while, just sipping at his coffee and stealing glances at you, face trained out the floor to ceiling windows. He really didn’t know what he deserved, anymore. Sure, he had made some semblance of peace with what the Winter Soldier had done with his body. He was better, that was certain.

Worthy of you and all your unwavering sweetness? He wasn’t so sure.

You idly chatted about nothing for hours, filling comfortable silence with talks of the mission and the food poisoning he had given you when he tried to make dinner two weeks in. You sat side by side until day broke the next morning, eyes squinting at the sun peeking over skyscrapers and finally finding the need to fall shut in rest.

“I guess I should say ‘good morning’ instead of ‘good night’.” You were the first to stand, shuffling towards the hallway that led to your bedroom.

“Good morning.” He answered as you padded away, deciding he would be just fine losing sleep every night if it meant he could watch the sunrise by your side.

Furnace

“Doesn’t Tony make enough money to keep this place at least habitable?” You grumbled as you fell into the couch beside Bucky.

“I’m fine.”

Bucky sat in his patent jeans and t-shirt, unphased by the temperature that practically had your teeth chattering. You were bundled in multiple layers, including one of the many sweatshirts he’d wear jogging on cold mornings and blankets you had stolen off his bed. Your glare from under your cocoon of warmth rivaled even his.

“I’m not a muscle-y super soldier-”

“You think I’m muscle-y?”

“-that runs so hot you’re basically a personal furnace.”

“Oh, so now I’m hot.”

“I would strangle you to death right now, but I’m about to lose my fingers to hypothermia.” You burrowed further into your smattering of blankets with a violent chill running down your spine. Bucky simply rolled his eyes and marked the spot in the book he had been reading before you stormed in.

“C’mere.”

He balled up a fistful of one of your blankets, tugging you even closer to him. You opened your arms to allow for direct contact, sighing contently as your face pressed into his shoulder and legs tangled with his. You sighed contently as you welcomed his warmth, shimmying as close as you could get.

“Better?”

“The best.”

Nine

“Do you ever think what your life would be like? If you’d gotten to go home?”

Even a year ago, this question would have turned Bucky into a brooding mess. He would have delved into every little moment he had missed, every plan that had been turned upside down when he fell from that train all those years ago. But he was better now, more contemplative. He wouldn’t drown in the idea of what could have been because he knows what it’s like to be on the other side.

“I like to think I would’ve gone to college.”

“Really?”

“You calling me dumb, doll?”

“No! You’re the smartest person I know. I’m just picturing you at college. Carrying textbooks and wooing all the dames.” You fell into him at the thought, a fake swoon overtaking your face.

“I’d be too busy studying for dames.”

“Studying what?”

“I always liked math. Maybe engineering or something. Wanted to be a teacher before the draft.” He shrugged like the information was no big deal, but to you it was everything.

“Professor Barnes. Kind of sexy.”

“Oh, shut up.” But his words held no malice. Instead, he was grinning that cheeky grin that pulled his cheeks into perfect rosy apples and his eyes crinkled in joy. “I wanted to have ten kids.”

“Ten?!”

“So we’d be a dozen. My own little army of mini-Buckys to take over the world. Couple sets of twins, maybe. Definitely as many girls as I could manage.”

Of course Bucky would be a girl-dad. Playing dress-up for fake tea parties and scaring off boys when they’d come ‘round for first dates. You could imagine how he’d learn how to take care of their hair and plait intricate braids when they asked. He would make breakfast for the whole bunch, kiss his wife goodbye before escorting them to the bus stop and taking off for a day of teaching classes. Bucky would be an amazing father.

An amazing husband, too.

“I think ten may be pushing it, Barnes.”

Bucky pictured it, too. A little more modern than maybe the image you conjured up. Teaching was replaced with small missions. The gaggle of kids were smaller, and he wouldn’t have to kiss his wife goodbye. You’d be in the car next to him, headed to the tower for your morning briefings together.

“I’ll settle for nine.”

Benign

If you were to ask any New Yorker what they think the Avengers do on Friday afternoons, they would probably say something like ‘kicking ass!’. None would get even close to what your actual routine looked like.

None would imagine The Winter Soldier lounging in a bathrobe, hair knotted into a bun at the top of his head as his fellow world-saving Avenger spread some green goop over his face. Chinese takeout boxes littered the living room coffee table, his feet were bubbling in warm foot spa.

“To keep your youthful complexion!” You had promised him. He didn’t comment on the obvious sound of your phone’s camera clicking.

He knew he must have looked completely ridiculous. But as you sunk into the couch next to him with identical spa treatments covering you, he couldn’t find it in himself to really care.

He never thought in a million years that he would have the chance of boring, completely benign afternoons. He thought he would be sidelined to violent missions for the rest of his life, to being thawed out like a microwave meal every time he was deemed useful. Sure, he felt a bit ridiculous when you reached over to adjust the slices of cucumber placed over his eyelids, but he also felt so relaxed.

As you settled even closer to him, head tilting to rest on his shoulder, he would happily take the teasing remarks from Sam when you showed him the pictures.

Homecoming

Peter wasn’t crazy about the idea of getting ready for his senior year homecoming dance at the tower. But Aunt May was upstate on vacation with Happy and he still didn’t know how to tie a tie.

“Oh, you look so handsome, Peter!” You gushed as your fingers worked on his tie. Bucky stood to the side, holding MJ’s corsage in a delicate plastic container. Peter had been careful to find the perfect color, with a little guidance from you. The white dahlias matched perfectly with Peter’s light green tie.

“Thanks, Ms. (Y/L/N).”

Peter, ever the polite kid.

“Be safe, kid. Have her home at a reasonable time and no wandering hands.” Bucky handed over the corsage with a supportive slap to Peter’s shoulder. He was quick to promise that he would follow all the rules before making a dash to the door, just as you were about to ask for pictures.

“Don’t wait up!” He called as the elevator dinged behind him.

“They grow up so fast.” You sniffled. “I didn’t even go to my homecoming dances.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody ever asked me.” You shrugged, collecting the other ties Peter had picked from and hanging them carefully over your arm. Tony didn’t have to know that Peter was taking one of his priceless Versace neckties to a homecoming dance.

“To be fair, I would’ve been scared shitless to ask you to a dance.” Bucky followed close behind. “And I fought a war.”

“That’s sweet, Buck.” You brushed him off as you retreated into Tony’s closet.

“No, really.” His hand caught your elbow. “I would’ve been the luckiest guy in town if I had you on my arm.”

You fell asleep that night imagining you and Bucky twirling around a dance hall without a care in the world.

One

Steve’s hand was firm against your shoulder, his tactical glove soaked and dripping with your blood. Your eyes were unfocused, head lulling every so often when the fight to keep it steady just seemed too difficult. Sam was at your other side, cracking jokes to try to keep your attention on him and not of the literal bullet lodged in your shoulder.

You were escorted from the jet in a flurry, doctor’s hands replacing Steve’s. You barely winced when you were administered painkillers and the ache begun to subside. Before you could blink, you were lifted onto a gurney in the medical bay and the clink of the bullet that had been dug from your flesh rang through the room as it clattered into a metal dish.

Bucky ran in just as the doctor finished maneuvering a long roll of gaze around your shoulder, scheduling a time for you to return to have it cleaned and reapplied again.

“What happened?” He brushed past the doctor without a second glance, eyes trained on your figure pressed against the sterile hospital bed. “Steve said-”

“It’s nothing. Steve likes to be dramatic.”

“-that you were shot!”

“Oh, well. Yeah, that happened.” You moved to sit up, your arm immediately giving out under the weight. Bucky moved even closer to help you, hand careful on your back like you were made of glass. “But just the one time.”

“As far as I’m concerned, one is too many.” He watched the gauze turn darker against your skin; your eyes screwed shut in pain as your knuckles turned white against the sheets. “And you’re never going on a mission without me again.”

Freight Car

“You’re free.”

He remembers those worlds so clearly, it’s like him and Ayo are still sat next to that crackling fire in Wakanda. He thought that had been it. He would never again worry about those ten phrases that erased Bucky Barnes and allowed a machine to emerge from his memory.

As he stole glances of you from the corner of his eye, shadowed by his unruly hair, he knew those words still very much existed in his mind.

They weren’t a means to an end, anymore. He didn’t have to grit his teeth and clench his fists to fight them off. They were new, now. He saw each of those words in you and realized just how important they are now they they’ve found a new meaning.

His love for you came easy.

One second, he was looking at his friend. She was looking back at him and he felt safe.

Your fingers brushed over his shoulder, where flesh turned to metal, and you looked away as though you hadn’t just made him fall in love with you with a single touch.

It took three years for Bucky to make a move. Another party, another escape plan to the balcony where you were waiting for him, like always. The last time you had found yourselves in that position, he had been too unsure. Too wary of what it would mean and if it was too soon.

Now, he didn’t care. He just wanted you and to be selfish and not think about consequences when he leaned forward and finally pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled back, but not far.

Something clicked.

Your love for him hit you like a freight car. Swooping in from nowhere but really, you should have felt the rattling of the tracks beneath your feet. You should have seen all the signs that you loved him and he loved you back. In stolen glances and easy afternoons, in hard missions and bloodshed. He was there, and he looked at you like that. Like everything his body had done was to finally make it to you in this moment.

He waited, patient. He had waited this long, what was another few seconds as the realization washed over your features?

“Oh.” Was your clever whisper.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s hands cradled your face, “Took you long enough.”

taglist: @bibliophilewednesday @teti-menchon0604 @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @spid3rgwen @beautyandthebleh @victoriabaker112213 @orthellqs @phasma-trash

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes/reader #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #sab writes

187 notes · View notes

jeonsjiddies · 3 years

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Lying That You Love Me | myg (m)

Summary - Upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running. You never could have imagined Min Yoongi would be the one to put your pieces back together, but there is always more than meets the eye.

Word Count - 10.5k

Pairing - Yoongi x reader

Genre - smut, minor angst

Warnings - mentions of broken family, family issues, mentions of homelessness, softdom!yoongi, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (female)

a/n - Part of the Tatted Bangtan Series! 💕 Sorry it’s soooo late, I sprained my wrist lol. Hope you enjoy now that it’s finally here! Huge thanks to @nervouskiwi , @sunshinekims , and @excusemin for beta reading. 💕

You know those people you just instantly connect with? You hear their laugh one time and suddenly you feel more connected to a stranger than a friend you've known your whole life? Something in their smile that resonates deep within your soul, that somehow, on some level (whether it be friends or lovers or a kind stranger who changed your life in passing only to never meet again) you are just... meant to find each other.

Those people who feel like sunshine on your cloudy days? The ones who wrap you in warmth and make your heart say "Ah, yes, so this is what home is supposed to feel like. This is what it means to belong. This is what it means to be myself, unafraid."

Somehow, amidst all the chaos and the heartbreak and the hurt, you find yourself cocooned in safety, building your own version of home with these strangers who feel like family; and it's good. And sometimes your heart beats so fast and your chest feels so tight and you feel like you just can't breathe, so you reach out a hand into the dark unknown and you're met with arms wrapping around you and holding you together. Holding you until all your broken pieces can be glued back together, one by one.

Min Yoongi was one of those people.

Now, upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. He looked more like someone who was one wrong look away from tearing you to shreds. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running.

But you… you were a little different. You’d taken one look at the man covered in intricate inky designs and your face had lit up with glee. A few hours prior to meeting Yoongi, you’d been sitting in your car, reclined back with your phone, leeching off of McDonald’s free wifi for the 11th night in a row. Your back ached, your stomach growled, and your foot was one more cramp away from being the end of you. The tiny cabin of your car was no place for you to live.

You scrolled through rental listings, looking for the cheapest option that didn’t look like it popped straight out of a horror movie. Your budget was low, being recently thrown out by your father after a fight about you dropping out of college. Your father was convinced you couldn’t survive on your own and you wanted to prove him wrong.

Finally stumbling upon a small 2 bedroom apartment on the west side of town leasing out the second bedroom, you clicked on the listing. There was no way you’d be able to afford your own apartment in a safe area, so you’d ended up expanding your search to find someone looking for a roommate. You zoomed in on the pictures provided, though there were few, it looked pretty nice. You scrolled down and read the description.

Single male, 27, searching for a roommate. You pay half the rent and utilities. Rent is $950 and utilities usually range about $300 a month, give or take. Pets welcome, but there is a deposit with the apartment complex and a monthly fee. My friend (and ex roommate) recently moved in with his long-time girlfriend and I need someone to help with expenses. Serious inquiries only. Contact for more info. 555-555-1382.

You quickly typed the number into your phone and texted the man to set up a time to view the apartment, but if you were being honest with yourself, you were already sold. This was the cleanest looking unit you’d seen, on a safe side of town, and it was more affordable than anything else you were going to get that was half as nice.

The man was quick with responses and very polite, and the two of you agreed to meet that evening at 4pm. You were absolutely giddy, a petty smirk on your face as you imagined telling your father that you indeed weren’t coming home, tail between your legs. You would not allow him to dictate your life anymore.

3:30 rolled around and you made your way over to the area the apartment was listed in, not wanting to be late. The apartment was part of a large building that was clearly a few years old but still in good shape. You looked around, noting that the nearby houses were well-worn but not worn down. It looked like a good area, and based on your Trulia searches, the crime was low here.

You smiled from your parking space and waited until 3:55 to walk up to the buzzer, hitting the button for apartment 5D which had Min Yoongi listed as a resident. Yoongi. You liked that name. You grinned when a deep voice came over the speaker, asking who was there.

“It’s Y/N, we have a 4pm appointment for me to see the apartment?” you answered back cheerily.

“Oh, yes, come on up.” before he was even done speaking, you heard the door click as he unlocked it.

You pulled open the heavy door and began making your way up the staircase, glancing around for the correct apartment. Near the end of the hallway, you finally spotted your destination, nestled in the corner by a large window that looked out to the rest of the apartment complex. There was a playground and a tennis court, without a net, but you didn’t really care.

You gently knocked against the wooden door, the only one without some form of decoration on the outside and waited for the man to appear and let you inside. You weren’t sure what kind of person you expected to see on the other side of the wooden door; you really hadn’t given it much thought. You were entirely unprepared however, to see the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on swinging the door open and dusting his hands on his worn jeans before flicking his onyx gaze up to meet yours, pinning you to your spot.

You snapped out of your haze and allowed your eyes to roam over his features, from his button nose to his full lips, to his toned arms, covered with decorative tattoos, beautiful inky designs trailing from his knuckles all the way up his veiny forearms, past his biceps, and disappearing into the sleeve of his t shirt. You sucked in a breath, noticing the eyebrow ring and multiple ear piercings.

“Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi.” he smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth, something shiny catching the light when his tongue darted out to wet his lips. A tongue ring.

A shiver ran through your body but you reached out your hand to shake his extended one. His large hand seemed to engulf yours, the veins prominent and a little distracting. Your face lit up in a grin, knowing that if your dad took one look at this man, he’d surely lose his mind.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Yoongi, thank you for meeting me on such short notice!” you smiled, allowing your hand to slip from his grasp and biting back the whine at the loss of contact.

“Come on in, have a look around. Like I said in the ad, my friend moved in with his girlfriend and left me to fend for myself. He did have the smaller bedroom but if that’s an issue, we can switch, if you’re interested that is.” he chuckled nervously, reaching his arm up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Oh, I am interested.” you giggled, looking around the spacey living room, which had an open concept that led into a small kitchen, but it looked like it had decent counter space.

“Oh! This is the kitchen…” Yoongi began, leading you over to get a better look after seeing where your eyes were wandering.

“It’s very roomy.” you noted with a smile.

“Jin did most of the cooking, but I helped out sometimes and we both fit in here pretty easily without getting in each other’s way.” he explained.

“Ooh, you cook?” you turned your gaze to him and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink.

“A little.” he admitted.

“Nice. Me too.” you grinned.

“Cool.” he grinned, his smile was the cutest thing you’d ever seen, the best way you could describe it was… gummy. Sweet. Warm.

Yoongi led you on a tour of the rest of the house, showing you your future bedroom, which was furnished since his previous roommate hadn’t needed to take his bed with him, his bedroom, the bathroom you’d share, and the small laundry unit in the hallway, hidden behind a closet-like door. Nice. In-unit laundry was a definite plus.

The apartment wasn’t super spacious, the bedrooms were on the smaller side, but the living room and kitchen were nice sizes, and there was in-unit laundry, and Yoongi seemed like a very clean, respectful individual. You were sold before you’d walked in, but now you were over the moon about the small patch of paradise you’d stumbled upon.

“Is there a deposit required? Or just first and last month's rent?” you asked Yoongi, who’d taken a seat across from you at the table.

“Oh, just the first month’s rent is fine. I’m not like a landlord or anything.” he said, shooting you a playful smile.

“Okay. Do you want a check or…?” you questioned. “I mean, if you’re willing to let me lease with you.”

“Of course! Check, cash, money order. I really don’t have a preference. If you want a paper trail with the office, we can do a check or money order.” he smiled.

You grinned back at the sheepish man across from you, his eyes shining with excitement. You were absolutely psyched to sleep in a real bed again, so tired of the worn leather seats in your car. Thank goodness it wasn’t summer so your skin wasn’t sticking to the material, but still. It wasn’t exactly a preferred sleeping space.

You ended up going to the ATM and giving Yoongi cash for the first month after adding your name to the lease just before the rental office closed. You both pitched in on a celebratory pizza and ate in the living room. You were surprised the rental office didn’t have to run a background check or something, you honestly didn’t think you’d be able to sleep in the apartment the same day you’d first laid eyes on it, but you weren’t complaining.

You stayed up with Yoongi until nearly 2am talking, drinking, laughing, and getting to know each other. He loved watching WWE, you loved watching K-dramas, he liked pineapple on his pizza and you thought that was basically blasphemy. Yoongi had braces growing up, had an older brother, preferred staying indoors to going out, and had a nasty habit he couldn’t seem to shake of biting his nails.

Yoongi was funny and warm and inviting. Though he seemed cold on the outside, he was actually very attentive and caring, always offering to refill your drink when he stood up, offering you a spare blanket if you looked cold, and making sure you felt comfortable as possible in your new home. You blamed it on the alcohol, but ended up getting way too personal too fast, telling Yoongi about why you’d moved in to begin with.

“... and he’s so condescending and judgemental, like he would hate your tattoos and immediately label you a delinquent just based on that alone.” you took a breath after rambling on for a few minutes, letting out your frustration for your situation.

“Wow, that’s… a lot,” Yoongi shook his head sympathetically, “it’s your life, you should do what makes you happy. It’s not his place to control everything you do.”

“He always has to be right, it’s exhausting.” you sighed.

“Well hey, bright side, you’re here now, and you’re free to be who you want and do whatever your heart desires. I fully support you.” Yoongi smiled at you and your heart seemed to grow three sizes.

“Thank you, Yoongi. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Do you have anything you need washed?” you asked Yoongi, gesturing to the washing machine that wasn’t even half full.

“Don’t you have any more clothes than that?” Yoongi asked.

For weeks, you’d been cycling the same three outfits you’d been able to bring with you in a small backpack when you’d left home.You’d thought about going back home to get the rest of your things, but you really didn’t want to face your father. You weren’t scared of him, not at all. In fact, you’d love to rub it in his face that you hadn’t failed as he’d expected you to do. You just didn’t want to deal with him yet.

Being around Yoongi, having the freedom to be yourself and being so wholly accepted for exactly who you were was intoxicating, and you weren’t ready to go back into that suffocating environment full of judgement and expectations, even for a short time. You were strong and resilient, but you also knew that your family issues were a sore spot for you.

“I do at my parents house. I just haven’t had a chance to go get my stuff.” you shrugged, starting the washer.

“You haven’t had a chance? Between lounging around watching Netflix and binge eating takeout?” Yoongi chuckled, leaning up against the wall and regarding you with a curious look.

“I’ve had time,” you emphasize with a sigh, “I just… I’m not ready to go there alone.”

“What if you weren’t alone?”

You looked up to meet Yoongi’s gaze in surprise, a supportive smile playing on his soft lips.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your chest filling with hope.

“If you want, I can go with you?” he offered.

“Really? You’d do that?” you tried to keep the astonishment out of your voice in an attempt to not look as pathetic and weak as you felt.

“Yeah, we can take my car, it’s bigger than yours anyway.” he shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and walking closer to you.

“Have I told you lately that you’re amazing?” you grinned, reaching up to hug him.

Yoongi was used to your affectionate nature, but sometimes it still caught him off guard, as he wasn’t an affectionate person. He wanted to be, he just wasn’t always comfortable using physical affection. He froze for a moment, but quickly regained his composure and wrapped his arms around your torso to return your hug.

“Yes, but feel free to remind me anytime. My fragile ego needs it.” he joked, poking your side playfully.

You released him from your hold with a light chuckle, stepping back and grinning up at him. He coughed and looked down to hide his shy smile from your view.

“Let’s go.”

“Wait, right now?” you gasped, eyes wide.

“Do you have other plans?” he questioned with a raised brow.

“Well, no… but I-” you began but Yoongi sent you a look that had you slipping on your shoes and following him out the door.

Yoongi smirked to himself at how easily you caved into him with just a stern look, unlocking the car and ushering you in before settling in the driver's seat and starting the engine. You couldn’t stop bouncing your leg from nerves, and Yoongi glanced your way every so often before gently placing his large hand on your knee for comfort. Except it did little to comfort you, having his veiny hands on your body only sent your heart into overdrive and caused your breathing to become that much shallower. You gave him an A for effort though.

“It’s going to be okay, I’m right here,” he soothed, “I’ve got your back.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” you smiled appreciatively, placing your hand on top of his for a moment before looking out the window, watching the trees fly by as you got closer to your parents house.

You hadn’t alerted your parents that you’d be coming, part of you hoping they wouldn’t be home and you could use the spare key to get your things and get out without having to interact with your father.

When the GPS announced you were one turn away, your hopes were crushed into a fine powder as you finally looked up and shrank back into your seat when you saw both of your parents’ vehicles occupying the driveway. Yoongi pulled in behind your mom’s car and cut the engine, turning to look at you. You met his gaze with your panicked one and he motioned for you to breathe with him, taking a few deep breaths and guiding you to calm yourself.

“You got this. You ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” you sighed, stepping out of his car and meeting him before walking to the front door.

You gripped his hand tightly, and Yoongi looked down at your conjoined hands in surprise but didn’t say anything, realizing that you needed the support.He squeezed your hand gently before rapping softly on the door. Your whole body tensed when you heard the lock click and Yoongi gave your hand another encouraging squeeze. The door swung open and your mother’s face was revealed, causing the hole in your chest to clench.

“Y/N!” she gasped, her eyes trailing along your form, down to your hands, then up Yoongi’s arms to his face, her expression one of astonishment.

“Hi, mom.” you coughed awkwardly.

“Y/N’s here?” you heard from behind her, the smug voice of your father grating against your ears. “Our little baby came home to admit we were right?”

His grinning face came into your view, standing just behind your mother, his smirk immediately falling once he laid eyes on Yoongi.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“This is Yoongi, he’s my-” you began.

“Are you dating this man?” your father interrupted, sounding panicked.

Your eyes flitted from your mom’s face to your dad’s, turning red with frustration. He had always hated people with tattoos, and you’d warned Yoongi about this. You didn’t think he’d get this worked up about it, and suddenly an idea popped in your head, and just as Yoongi was about to argue that you weren’t dating amidst your silence, you spoke up.

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend.” you said quickly, squeezing Yoongi’s hand in an attempt to beg him to go along with it.

Yoongi’s breath caught and he coughed into his elbow uncomfortably, but gave a sheepish grin when he recovered, letting go of your hand and extending his out to your parents.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. I’m Min Yoongi.”

Your mother stared at his hand hanging in the air like it was a foreign object before she collected herself, gingerly taking his hand in hers. Your father followed suit, his expression hard.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yoongi.” your mom smiled, warming up to Yoongi’s polite aura.

“I’m very honored to finally meet you. I see where Y/N gets her pretty eyes from.” Yoongi smiled, causing your mom to turn bashful and swat at him playfully.

Your dad hadn’t budged an inch, his hard gaze focused on the man at your side, scrutinizing and unwelcoming. His eyes wandered over Yoongi’s plethora of tattoos, many piercings, and ripped jeans. He made a face of distaste before turning his gaze to you.

“What are you doing here?” he wondered.

“We’re getting some of my stuff to take back home.” you explained.

“Home? You live with this man?!” you dad guffawed.

“Yes, we live together.” Yoongi supplied for you, stepping closer to you and wrapping an arm around you, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

He mostly wanted to be a shield for you against your father, as he could tell you were starting to shrink in on yourself, and he wanted to offer you a little more strength. You smiled up at him, hoping your eyes showed your thankfulness.

“Absolutely not, young lady. I won’t permit it.” your father hissed.

“With all due respect, you don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m an adult, and you kicked me out.” you shrugged, using your best acting skills to appear nonchalant.Yoongi felt your body shivering slightly against his.

“I- You-” your dad fumed.

“Why don’t we grab your clothes and come back for the rest when everyone has calmed down a little?” Yoongi offered quietly in your ear.

You nodded, pulling him along with you to your old bedroom. You felt your dad’s piercing gaze follow you down the hallway, but you ignored it. You grabbed some clothes and a few other things, throwing them in a decorative tote you’d once used to house scrapbooking supplies. Yoongi took the tote from you and led the way back out of the house, your hand clutching the back of his shirt like a safety blanket, the other arm filled with more clothes.

Your mom watched you quietly, with a sullen expression, seeming to try and express her apologies through her eyes while your dad seethed from his recliner, refusing to look at you. You sighed, taking a look around the house you used to call home before announcing your departure and waving goodbye, following Yoongi out the front door.

Once you’d placed the things in the back of the car and sat in the passenger seat, your body deflated. Yoongi began driving, to get you out of the line of sight of your parents in case you broke down, so they wouldn’t see.

“Yoongi, I’m so sorry I dragged you into that. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just- I saw his face and I wanted to-” you sighed, struggling to explain the reason behind your split second decision to lie about the nature of your relationship.

“I understand.”

“You’re not mad?” you looked over at him in surprise.

“No. I can see the power dynamic in that house. Your family clearly has some issues they need to work out. I’m not mad.” he explained.

“I don’t deserve you,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, “you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had.”

“Dang, that bar is set pretty low, Y/N.” he joked.

You slapped his arm playfully with a grin lighting up your face, suddenly feeling much lighter than you had moments ago.

“How about I pay for pizza tonight as a thank you?” you offered, gazing up at him.

“As long as there’s pineapple on it.” he smirked.

“Half and half.”

Seasons changed, the air turned colder, the leaves on the trees transitioning from vibrant green to deep golden yellows and reds before fading away altogether as the harsh winter breeze bagan to set in. Each new day, you learned more about Yoongi, and the two of you grew closer. Yoongi was respectful of your space and time. He would notice when you were having a bad day and do little things you almost didn’t notice to help you out and reduce your stress. He’d pick up your favorite tea on his way home from work or invite you to watch a movie you knew he wouldn’t have watched on his own.

You tried to show him the same level of respect, like making sure there was fresh coffee for him in the morning, or packing his lunch when he was running late. The more time you spent with Yoongi, the more you adored him. Possibly a little too much… You’d known from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was gorgeous, but you didn’t think it would be so distracting.

Oftentimes, you’d find yourself staring at the way Yoongi’s lips moved while he talked, or watching the way his muscles flexed while he wrote. Your breath would hitch when your bodies brushed against each other in the hallway or maneuvering around the kitchen together. You’d try to slip past him and his hands would reflexively find your hips to steady you and guide you past him. Sparks would shoot through your veins any time his skin touched yours, a warm tingle left wherever his touch had been.

Your eyes would linger a second too long when he’d come out of the bathroom in a towel, or when he’d stretch during your frequent binge watching sessions, the hem of his shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of gorgeous ivory skin. Your mouth would water on the occasions when his hip tattoo would be revealed if his sweats hung a little too low. Sometimes you swore he was doing it on purpose, when you’d look up to find him watching you with an amused expression and you’d tear your eyes away as your cheeks filled with heat.

Yoongi never called you out for gawking at him, he’d simply raise an eyebrow and his delicious lips would turn up in an amused smirk. You weren’t the only one who got caught staring though. You noticed his eyes on you when you would bend over to grab a water from the fridge, or his gaze trailing down your neck towards your breasts when you’d come home sweaty from a run. You pretended not to notice, but you saw the way his eyes would linger.

You danced around each other like that, somehow simultaneously completely at ease and growing closer with each passing day but incredibly bothered with tension and desire. Or perhaps it was all in your head, wishful thinking on your part. You couldn’t count on all your fingers and toes the amount of times Yoongi’s name would fall from your lips in pathetic whimpers while you attempted to keep quiet whilst touching yourself under the covers in your room.

You tried to act like nothing had changed, which is why when Yoongi invited you to watch a movie with him, you’d snuggled up to him on the couch, just like always, a thick blanket wrapping the two of you in warmth. Your head rested on his shoulder and his hand on your knee, the heat from his skin on yours causing other areas of your anatomy to warm up as well. It was hard paying attention to the screen when you could feel the warmth of his skin seeping through your jeans where his hand met your knee but you did your best.

You watched as the main characters began taking their clothes off and tensed up awkwardly, looking up at Yoongi to ask if he wanted anything to drink… at the same time he’d glanced down to ask if you wanted more popcorn. Your faces were mere centimeters away, you could feel his hot breath ghosting against your lips, your gazes locked. Your heart skipped a beat and time seemed to slow, and you could have sworn he’d begun leaning in, but a loud crash in the movie startled you both out of your moment, and you’d pulled away with an awkward cough.

Yoongi scratched the back of his neck and avoided eye contact, and you’d stood up, using his leg as leverage, but your hand slipped and glided up his thigh, almost making contact with his crotch. You wretched your hand away like you’d been burned and mumbled something about a refill before making a beeline for the kitchen. Hand over your heart, free hand resting on the counter to hold yourself up while you struggled to regulate your heartbeat, you closed your eyes and took deep breaths.

Was Yoongi about to kiss you? Surely not, but the way your eyes had connected, the sparks his intense gaze had sent down your spine… you shivered. You refilled your water and grabbed a new drink for Yoongi before making your way back to the living room, sitting a few inches from him and extending out your offering to him, which he took with a quiet “thanks.”

The air was thick and uncomfortable, the lingering tension from the almost-kiss nearly suffocating the both of you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when your phone started ringing, a FaceTime call from your mom. You sat up and sent a panicked look towards Yoongi, who glanced at the screen before scooting closer to you, and pressing the answer button.

“Hi mom!”

“Hello, love. Oh. I see Yoongi is with you. Hello, Yoongi.” she smiled politely.

“Hello, ma’am.”

“Y/N, I packed up some more of your stuff, I felt awful for how the other day went and I wanted to apologize. I talked to your father as well, and… you know how he is. I want to support you and if Yoongi makes you happy, I want to get to know him. I miss you.” she rambled, clearly nervous.

“Oh mom… thank you. I really appreciate that.”

“I do have to admit though, I was very surprised that you two were together, it just seemed so… unexpected. You usually go for a more clean cut kind of guy…”

“Well, you know what they say, opposites attract.” Yoongi supplied with a charming smile after sensing your body stiffen.

“That they do!” your mom agreed with a giggle, “it just didn’t seem real at first, I suppose.”

You shot Yoongi a panicked glance out of the frame of the camera, silently begging him to turn up the PDA. His lip was tucked between his teeth in nervousness, but he let it slide free and steeled himself before leaning in and brushing a gentle kiss to your cheek. Which would’ve been a great plan, had that not been the exact moment you’d decided to turn your head to look at him.

His lips met yours for the briefest moment, the most tender ghost of a touch, but it lit your insides aflame. Your heart pounded erratically, your chest tightening, and the air seeming to have been stolen from your lungs. Your arm holding your phone grew slack, and you dropped it onto the couch cushion, your hand instinctively placing itself upon Yoongi’s firm chest. The kiss lasted mere seconds, but with the way time stilled around you, it might as well have been hours. His soft lips pressed so delicately to yours suspended gravity itself, and you were floating on cloud nine.

“Y/N? Hello?”

The two of you broke apart in shock, springing away from each other like magnets with the same charge, eyes wide and breathing heavy as you stared at one another. Moments passed with your heartbeat pounding in your ear like a drum before you came to your senses and picked your phone up.

“Sorry mom. Can I call you back?”

“Oh sure, love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

Yoongi had taken your momentary distraction as an excuse to escape to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room with wide eyes and fingertips pressed to your lips in shock. Your lips had barely touched and it felt like your worlds had collided, two missing pieces finally coming together. And it was terrifying, so you decided not to dwell on it, you’d deal with it when the time came.

That didn’t stop you from replaying the moment in your head for the rest of the night, however. Laying in your bed with Yoongi just one wall away, you wondered if he was thinking about the kiss, if he was thinking about you too. Shoving the hopeful thoughts from your mind, you let yourself drift to sleep.

You weren’t sure why you’d agreed to spend the holiday with your family, but your mother’s persistent guilt trip over the past few weeks had worn your resistance thin. Yoongi’s family was back in Korea so he didn’t have any other plans, usually opting to spend Christmas alone with a bottle of bourbon and leftover takeout. He’d agreed to be your buffer between yourself and your father and accompany you to the hellscape that was your old home.

Snow had already begun to softly drift from the skies, so Yoongi had reminded you about ten times to dress warm so you didn’t catch a cold. Upon the 8th reminder, you’d snarkily shot back “yes daddy.” and rolled your eyes, stomping off to pull on your gloves. Yoongi had frozen in place, jaw slack as his eyes bored into the back of your head. You paid him no mind, wrapping a scarf around your neck and tucking it into your coat before pulling on your hat.

“Are you coming?” you asked, your eyes warily running along Yoongi’s rigid body as he stood there with his eyes closed taking deep breaths.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you down there.” he tossed you the keys so you could unlock the car he’d started a few minutes beforehand, making sure it was warmed up.

You trudged down to the car, dragging your purse and the pie you were meant to bring to the occasion, sliding into Yoongi’s passenger seat and placing your hands against the vents for the warm air. A few minutes later, Yoongi joined you, much more relaxed than before. You sent him a hopeful smile and rested your hand on his knee.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course. I’ve got your back.” he shrugged, backing out of the space carefully.

You watched the scenery as Yoongi drove, noting how the snow had dusted the trees with a beautiful blanket, making everything brighter, almost as if it sparkled. You loved the snow as a kid and you loved it still, a fond nostalgia settling in your chest until you noticed you were getting closer to your parents house. Your grip returned on Yoongi’s knee and he tensed a bit before placing his free hand on top of yours.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m right here,” he soothed, then wiggled his eyebrows playfully “plus your mom approves of your boyfriend now.”

“She loves you more than me now.” you pouted.

“Well, I am pretty irresistible.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” you threw back.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you checking me out, babe.” he smirked, emphasizing the last word as you both walked up to the front door, Yoongi’s hand reaching out to knock gently.

“Shut up.” you crossed your arms defiantly.

Yoongi poked at your side, almost making you drop your pie, but he saved it at the last minute by reaching out and grabbing it from you. This caused his face to be just inches from yours and your eyes locked for a moment and you swear time stopped. Your heart was pounding in your chest as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips momentarily, and you sucked in a breath in anticipation. It might have been your imagination, but Yoongi seemed to get a little closer to your parted, waiting lips before your mom opened the door. The two of you sprung apart like you’d been caught at a crime scene.

“Well don’t stop on my account.” your mom giggled, sending you a playful wink before beckoning you inside.

You avoided eye contact with Yoongi and tried to take steady breaths to calm your racing heart, your mind going a mile a minute. Was he about to kiss you? Surely not. You were play dating, and no one was watching. Did he want to kiss you? Your cheeks were on fire and you were honestly a little riled up, pressing your thighs together discreetly. You handed your mom the pie, which she sliced and set on the table.

“Merry Christmas, mom. Where’s dad?”

“Oh he’s taking a nap. Yoongi, come over here! I want to get a picture of you two together!” your mom grinned.

“What are you, best friends now? You guys video chat at least once a week.” you whined.

Your mom waved you off and held her camera up while Yoongi stood beside you, giving you plenty of room.

“Scoot closer. You’re boyfriend and girlfriend, not awkward preteens.” your mom huffed.

Yoongi stepped closer and put an arm around your shoulder, leaning in and smiling for the camera. You heard the shutter go off a few times, attempting to pull away.

“Wait. Let’s get one of you kissing his cheek, Y/N!” your mom gushed.

“Moooooom.”

“Do it.” she chided.

You sighed and glanced up at Yoongi in silent apology, but he only lent over and offered you his cheek. You gently pressed your lips to it, feeling the skin tingle where it met his. The tips of Yoongi’s ears were suspiciously pink, but you paid it no mind. He was probably uncomfortable. Your mom snapped a few pictures and smiled to herself.

“You two act like you’ve never touched each other.” she commented offhandedly while turning around to place her phone on the charger.

“Yoongi’s not a fan of PDA.” you covered smoothly.

“When I was your age my man couldn’t keep his hands off of me.” she shrugged.

“MOM!”

“What? It’s true. Young men always have a one track mind.”

You covered your face with your hands, and your mom laughed. Yoongi wrapped his arms around you from behind, shielding you with his body.

“Don’t be shy babe. I just wanted to be respectful around your mom but she doesn’t seem to care.” he spoke, allowing his lips to graze along the shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run through your body.

Yoongi smirked and kissed your cheek before letting you go, standing up straighter. You glanced where he was staring and your dad was making his way down the hall to join everyone.

“Merry Christmas, dad.” you said politely.

“Merry Christmas.” he responded, his tone a little stiff and uncomfortable.

He wasn’t showing clear distaste for you or Yoongi, so you took it as a win. Your mom must have had a talk with him. You silently thanked her and took your seat beside Yoongi at the table. Dinner was pretty uneventful, light small talk that your father barely participated in and Yoongi relentlessly complimenting your mom on her cooking skills, telling her how delicious the food was and how he needed the recipes.

After dinner, you all sat around the tree and opened gifts, your father having gifted your mother a lovely pearl necklace, your mother giving your father a new watch. You’d gifted your mom a foot massager that looked like slippers you’d seen at the mall, and your father a new set of tools, knowing his were beginning to wear. You’d gifted Yoongi a gift card to his favorite store at the mall, and he’d given you a beautiful bracelet he saw you eyeing a few weeks back.

The last gift to be opened had been a pair of matching couple’s pajamas for you and Yoongi, a red and white plaid design that was actually kind of cute. Your mom made you hold them up and take a picture together, ignoring your protests that she had taken plenty of pictures beforehand. Packing everything up and getting ready to go, you looked up between your parents and sighed contentedly.

“This was nice, getting along,” you smiled at your mom, standing up and dusting off your skirt, “we’ll be sure to visit soon.”

Your mom leaned in for a hug from both of you while your dad stood silently off to the side, hands at his sides, fingers twitching slightly like he was unsure if he should lean in as well or not. Swallowing your pride because it was Christmas, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him. He gently patted your back a few times before stepping back.

“See you around, dad. Merry Christmas.” you spoke softly.

“Merry Christmas.” he repeated, looking away uncomfortably.

You sighed and took Yoongi’s hand in your own, gazing up at him in a silent question. He smiled and pulled you towards the door. The second he opened the entrance, snow blew into the living room from the force of the wind, and Yoongi quickly shut the door, having to put in more strength than usual with how hard the wind was blowing.

“Wow, it’s really coming down hard out there.” your mom commented, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Does your vehicle have four wheel drive?” your dad asked.

“Um… no.” Yoongi scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Oh there is no way I’m letting you drive in this!” your mother gasped.

“Mom, we have to go home. I’m sure we can drive slow.” you reasoned, though your nerves about the weather were grating at you.

“Absolutely not. You’ll stay here.” she commanded.

“YN… your mom is probably right. It looks pretty bad out there. I don’t think it would be safe…” Yoongi said quietly.

You sighed, resigning to your fate and nodded, setting your purse back on the coat rack and removing your jacket. Yoongi followed suit, shedding his coat and hanging it up, smiling apologetically in your direction. Your father had already retreated back to his bedroom to clean up for the night.

“Are the spare blankets still in the hall closet?” you asked your mom.

“Yes, why?” she wondered.

“I was going to grab one, Yoongi or I will probably be sleeping on the couch.”

“That couch is not comfortable enough to sleep on. It’s not like I don’t know you sleep together at home.” she scoffed.

Your cheeks lit up brighter than the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and you didn’t dare look at Yoongi. Your mom laughed at your reaction, rolling her eyes and walking down the hall.

“Goodnight, see you in the morning.” she called over her shoulder.

The two of you stood there silently for a moment before you coughed and gestured for him to follow you to your old bedroom. Most of your stuff had been taken to your apartment by that point, so it was mostly just your old bed and an empty dresser with a lamp on it. You glanced down at the full sized bed, which had enough room for the two of you, but barely enough to ensure that you wouldn’t end up touching.

“Do you care which side?” you wondered, finally looking up to meet Yoongi’s gaze.

“No, it doesn’t matter to me.” he shrugged.

“Okay. You can go change first.” you offered.

Yoongi nodded and disappeared down the hallway to change into the pajamas your mother had gifted the both of you previously in the night. You decided to go ahead and rush through changing while Yoongi was gone, slipping on the matching pair and crawling into bed. The two of you laid straight on your backs, staring at the ceiling for a while.

“I’m sorry about this.” you mumbled quietly.

“It’s okay, really.”

You didn’t remember falling asleep so soon, but you woke up to a pitch black room with something warm and firm pressed up against your back. You snuggled closer to the warmth in the freezing room and were met with a low groan and something a solid pressing against your backside.

“Nnnngh.” Yoongi whined, half-asleep, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you flush against him.

You froze, trying not to rub against Yoongi’s erection that was pressing into your ass, but that didn’t stop the shiver from traveling through your body. With great effort, you managed to turn yourself around in Yoongi’s arms so you were facing him, watching his serene facial expressions in his slumber.

Yoongi really was a beautiful man. You watched him take slow, steady breaths, his face illuminated by the moonlight trickling in between the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him, feel his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, but you didn’t dare in case you woke him.

His body shuffled closer to yours once more, his arms tightening around you until your noses were nearly touching and you had to hold in a gasp. There was no way this would be happening if Yoongi had been conscious, and you weren’t sure if you should let him sleep or alert him to what he was doing. You couldn’t help being slightly elated at the situation though, being this close to Yoongi and being able to study his features without fear of looking weird, and the way his groin felt pressed against your lower stomach wasn’t something you’d complain about either.

You decided you should probably stop taking advantage of his unconscious state and attempted to climb over him to get out of bed without disturbing him. Just as you’d swung your leg over his body, he turned in his sleep, flipping onto his back, effectively knocking you off balance until you landed atop his chest, your legs straddling his hips.

You glanced up at his face and your eyes met, faces mirroring expressions of shock. You were both frozen in place for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. You snapped out of it and tried to climb off of Yoongi’s hips, just as Yoongi tried to sit up, so all the two of you accomplished was grinding your core against Yoongi’s erection. Yoongi let out a strangled moan, reaching out to grab your hips to hold you still.

His fingers gripped the skin of your hips where your shirt had ridden up, and his touch burned in the best way. You fought back a whimper at the delicious feeling, your hips stilling in his iron grasp. The air in the room changed, getting thicker. You swore you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Your racing heart skipped a beat as Yoongi’s eyes traveled down your body until they rested where your core met his length. He shivered. You gulped. Once again, you attempted to flee your current position.

“Please- don’t move,” Yoongi whined, almost desperately, “you’re making it worse.”

“I know I’m irresistible.” you chuckled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood.

“You really are.”

Your brows rose in surprise at the earnest tone he spoke in, his voice bordering desperate. Your mouth slightly agape, you searched his eyes for confirmation he wasn’t joking. He smirked and sat up, holding you against him as his lips ghosted along your neck, barely brushing against your skin. His hot breath fanning against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers dug into your sides almost demandingly, and he let out a low, animalistic growl.

“You don’t even realize what you do to me… how much you tempt me. I see the way you look at me, the way your eyes linger. You’re anything but subtle. I’ve tried so hard to hold back… If we weren’t at your parents house, I’d fuck you so hard you’d forget your name…” Yoongi’s voice was low and quiet, and you let out an involuntary whimper at his words, causing his eyes to darken and a smirk to play on his pretty lips, “but maybe you’d like that, maybe you want them to hear, you want them to know what a dirty slut you can be, wanna show them who you belong to. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby girl?” he purred, rocking his hips up into yours, letting his rock-hard member drag deliciously against your covered folds.

“Oh fuck… yes.” you whimpered, all sense of dignity flying out the window at his dirty words.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this for so long.” he groaned, using his hands to guide your hips along his length.

“Me too.” you whimpered, falling forward and placing your hands on the defined planes of his chest, feeling it rise and fall as quickly as yours.

You allowed your hands to wander underneath his sleep shirt, feeling his warm skin against your own, slowly dragging your digits along his torso and teasingly letting your nails scrape gently against his nipples. Yoongi watched with rapt attention as you explored his body, relishing in the way you attempted to memorize every inch your eyes could devour.

His fingers dug into your hips when you flicked your thumb over his nipple, and you smiled innocently before dragging your hands down to the waistband of his pajama pants, gently lifting the elastic and letting it snap back against his skin, causing him to buck his hips up into yours. His hands traveled up your hips to grip the hem of your shirt, pausing and meeting your gaze to make sure you were alright, and you nodded, placing your hands on his and guiding them to remove the fabric, revealing your bare breasts underneath. Yoongi sucked in a breath, a low whine escaping as he released it.

His hands immediately found purchase on your breasts, his thumb and index finger rolling your hardened nipple. You let your head fall back as electricity shot straight to your core at his actions. You felt him move below you, sitting up in order to take one of your pert nipples into his waiting mouth. His warm tongue worked against the sensitive bud, alternating between licking and sucking while he worked the neglected nipple between his fingers. Your breathing grew shallower, your whines needier, and you felt Yoongi smirking against your skin, releasing your abused flesh with an audible pop.

“You fall apart so easily for me… who could’ve guessed you’d be such a responsive, cock hungry little thing.” he mused while allowing his hands to travel down your stomach, so close to where you needed stimulation.

“Yoongi please…”

“Fuck, say it again. My name sounds so much better coming from your pretty lips.”

“Yoongi.” you moaned, nearly breathless. “Please.”

In an instant, Yoongi had you flipped over, resting on your back as he hovered over you, his hungry gaze trailing over your chest and traveling down. He tugged on the waistband of your pajamas, pulling them down past the swell of your ass, then helping you kick them off and aside, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

“Wanna see you, Yoongi.” you pleaded, tugging on the hem of his shirt.

He quickly obliged, whipping it off and tossing it aside, revealing his expanse of glorious ivory skin to you. Your gaze traveled down the expanse of his torso, tracing over the intricate designs that decorated his skin in awe. You’d seen glimpses, when he’d been in just a towel, or stripping off his shirt at the washing machine, but you’d never gotten a good look up close.

You tentatively lifted your fingers, your index gently tracing the inky black lines as tenderly as you could, barely a ghost of a touch as you admired the beautiful artwork that so perfectly suited such a beautiful man. Yoongi shivered at your touch, watching you study his ink with such wonder in your eyes pulled at his heart strings, reminding him exactly why he’d fallen for you in the first place.

“When we have more time, I want to hear all about these,” you mused quietly, “what they mean, when you got them, I want to know everything.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know baby,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “but for now…” he trailed off, slowly moving his body down, kissing a path from your lips down your front until he reached the elastic band of your panties.

He teasingly ran his finger under the elastic, grinning up at your from his spot between your thighs before pulling the garment from your body and tossing it aside, revealing your soaking pussy to him. You tried to close your legs from embarrassment, but Yoongi gently slid his hands up your thighs, gently kneading the flesh there.

“So beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” he cooed, kissing a line from your thigh to your folds, causing you to let out a pleased sigh and spread your legs further for him, “mmm… good girl.”

He rewarded you by licking a long stripe up your slit, gathering your slick on his tongue and making a pleased noise in the back of his throat before diving in, working his warm muscle against your clit in different motions, alternating between sucking it between plump lips, licking broad stripes against it, and drawing figures with the tip of his tongue.

Using your pleasure as a distraction, he slowly eased a finger inside of your entrance, your slick aiding him with the welcome intrusion. He curled his finger and made come hither motions, repeatedly rubbing the pad of his finger against your weakest spot, and it took everything inside of you not to cry out at the intense fire burning in your core as he worked you closer to your first release. He slowly added a second finger, then a third, scissoring you open and prepping you for his cock.

Just the thought of the thick member you’d felt pressing against your lower back earlier nestled deep inside you had you drooling, and Yoongi’s skills with his mouth and fingers were certainly not hurting. Quiet whimpers escaped your lips as you fought the urge to buck your hips up into his mouth as your climax came closer and closer. Yoongi noticed your needy behavior and sped up his actions, working you towards your release.

You bit down on your fingers to stifle the loud moans that threatened to spill from your lips, even in your lust clouded mind, the last thing you needed was to be interrupted before you could get Yoongi inside of you. As your orgasm crashed over you from Yoongi’s ministrations, your back arched off the bed and you nearly drew blood from how hard you had to bite down to keep quiet, your body shaking as you came down from euphoria.

Yoongi kissed his way back up your body, finally becoming eye-level with you, smirking at your fucked out state and heavy breathing. You laughed and hid your face in the crook of his neck, drawing his body closer to yours in an attempt to hide. Yoongi’s low chuckles reverberated, shaking the bed slightly. Your hands traveled from being wrapped around his neck, slowly trailing down his back and pulling on the elastic of his pajama bottoms, desperate to lay eyes on his thick cock, which was pressed into your hip.

“Yoongi… need you. Need you so bad.” you begged.

Yoongi’s cock twitched in his pj’s, and he assisted you with ridding him of them and his boxers in one go, allowing his cock to spring free and slap against his stomach in all its glory. You were absolutely salivating as you looked at the reddened tip, leaking precum, the long shaft, and you couldn’t wait to feel him filling you up.

“Ready, princess?” he wondered, lining his member up with your entrance after gathering your slick to coat the head.

“So ready. Please fuck me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi slowly pushed himself inside your entrance, stretching your walls in the most delicious way. He took his time, periodically checking your expression for discomfort as he impaled you with his length. Your breathing was erratic, you were clutching onto his back for dear life as he split you open, eventually bottoming out. Yoongi stretched you out in all the best ways, filling you up better than any man had ever dreamed of before, and you were living for it.

You rocked your hips up into his, begging him to move, and Yoongi slowly pulled out until just the tip was sheathed inside your warmth before pushing back in, gaining more speed as he went. You couldn’t help the pathetic whines and moans that fell from your lips as Yoongi worked his hips, thrusting into you at a punishing pace. Every rock of his hips had the tip of his cock meeting your cervix, the powerful thrusts sending you closer and closer to oblivion.

“Fuck, babygirl, you look so sexy like this, taking my cock so well… like you were made for me. So fucking perfect.” Yoongi whispered hotly in your ear, licking a bold stripe along the shell, sending shivers coursing through your body.

“Yoongi, fuck.”

“That’s it baby, who’s making you feel this good?” he accentuated the last word with a harder thrust that sent your body a little farther up the bed.

“You, Yoongi! Oh oh o-oh..” your whines grow louder and Yoongi quickly covered your mouth with his own in an attempt to drown out the noise, lest your parents really do hear him defiling their daughter in her childhood bedroom.

You clawed desperately at his back, trying to warn him of your impending orgasm, and Yoongi deepened the kiss in understanding, pistoning his hips with as much strength as he could muster and reaching down to roll your clit between his fingers, sending you sailing off the edge, Yoongi’s kiss stifled your scream before he soon followed you off the edge, painting your walls white with his hot release.

Yoongi pecked your lips tenderly before rolling off of you and landing on his back beside you, both of you panting and grinning like idiots. Yoongi’s cum seeped out of your battered hole, and he licked his lips at the sight, causing you to cover your face and giggle. He stood, walking into the bathroom and dampening a washcloth to clean you up as gently as he could before tossing it into the hamper and resuming his position on his side of the bed.

The sun was just beginning to rise and shine through the blinds as you lay beside Yoongi, still catching your breath. You glanced over at Yoongi to find he was already looking at you. He gave you a shy, tentative smile.

“So…” he trailed off.

“So…?”

Yoongi sighed and sat up, urging you to follow suit so you could both talk. You followed his instructions, wincing slightly. He gently reached out and took both of your hands in his larger ones, looking up to meet your gaze before he spoke quietly.

“Listen… I know this started off as a lie to piss your dad off, but… I would be lying now if i said it was still fake for me. I really like you, Y/N.. I have for a while. I don’t know when it happened but somewhere along the way, I just- I don’t know. But if you’re willing to give me a chance, a real chance, I think I could make you happy.” he spoke quietly, his eyes filled with light and hope.

“Oh Yoongi…” you sighed, cupping his cheek with your hand tenderly and smiling as he leaned subconsciously into your touch, “you already do. None of this is fake for me either, not anymore. I really, really like you.”

A soft knock on your door tore you two from your moment, your heads snapping towards the door as you pulled the blanket up to cover your breasts.

“Morning, guys, breakfast will be ready in ten.” your mom called through the wood.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to look your mom in the eye now.” Yoongi chuckled.

“She already thought we were fucking before this.” you reasoned with a smirk.

Yoongi groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck and you laughed, carding your fingers through his messy post-sex hair lovingly.

“I can’t believe you’re really mine, for real this time.” he whispered into the safety of your neck.

“And I can’t believe you’re mine… for real this time,” you grin, carding your fingers through his hair comfortingly, “let’s eat so we can go home.”

The two of you got dressed and headed out for breakfast, engaging in small talk with your mom and semi-comfortable silence with your dad. You still had a ways to go to fix that relationship, but you were pleased with the progress. You didn’t think you’d ever have a perfect relationship with your father, but you didn’t have to. You didn’t have to fix everything, or be who he wanted in order to receive love, you were slowly learning.

The roads had been salted and deemed safe to drive on, so you and Yoongi bid your parents a farewell, thanking them for letting you stay and for the gifts. Your mom pulled you into a hug, then Yoongi into one as well.

“I just love how happy you are around him, Y/N. It’s like you’re glowing. You two come visit soon, okay? I miss seeing you.” your mom spoke, holding your hand in hers.

“We will. I love you, mom.”

Yoongi reached out and you placed your hand in his, letting him lead you home.

Months later, on another lazy Sunday afternoon, you were cuddled up with your boyfriend on the couch of your shared apartment, snuggling into his chest while the two of you half paid attention to another movie on Netflix. Wrapped up in blankets and Yoongi’s arms, you’d never felt safer, more content, or so unbelievably happy.

Yoongi had your hand wrapped in his, lazily placing kisses along your wrist, palm, the tips of your fingers, anywhere his lips would reach. He wanted to shower you in kisses. You watched him with curious eyes, noting the way his own were shining as he met your gaze.

“What?” you wondered, chucking quietly.

“Say it again.”

“Yoongi,” you whined, looking up at him with a smile nonetheless, “I’ve said it like fifty times today.”

“Just one more time.”

You rolled your eyes before quietly letting the words roll off your lips like dripping honey as you pressed a kiss to his skin. “I love you, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi hummed happily, almost like a purring cat, “Mmm.. I love you too.”

You snuggled into his embrace before he spoke up once more.

“Okay, just one more time.”

You laughed and rolled over so you were straddling him, reaching down and squishing his cheeks together before pressing your lips to his.

“I love you.” you giggled, pecking his lips once more, then repeating the words and actions over and over and over again.

“I love you I love you I love you I love you.” you peppered kisses all over his face, any part of it you could reach until your boyfriend was a mess beneath you, laughing and blushing with the biggest gummy smile on his face.

Every once in a while, you meet someone you instantly connect with. Every so often you cross paths with someone you’re just meant to meet. But, once in a lifetime, you meet someone who makes your soul feel whole again. You see a face in the crowd and instantly feel at home. You hear their laugh one time and suddenly the world has color again. Once in a lifetime, you meet someone who doesn’t save you, but holds you steady while you gather the strength you need to save yourself.

Min Yoongi is that person for you.

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washymylifeaway · 3 years

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KyouHaba Fanfic recs

Hiya! How much do I love KyouHaba? Yes. This is one of my favorite ships and one of my comfort ships <3 KyouHaba has got some amazing fics, so even if they aren’t really your thing, you should still read this :D Anyway, onto the recs!

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading (esp since KyouHaba usually deals with darker topics and not all of them tag/warn for it!) and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

CP:

Close to the Chest by darkmagicalgirl (T) 61.1k // THIS ONE man anyway I just love the progression of their relationship and the way this fic is written! The way we really go into who Yahaba is really what makes this fic great! Also there's some slightly ~angsty~ IWAOI so look out for that hehe.

Police Dog by surveycorpsjean (E) 34.9k // if you’re super against like any *furry* implications, pass this one LOL. But TBH I don’t like furries, but this one was pretty great (hence why it’s here LOL) and they make me laugh. Also I really like some of the head cannons for Kyoutani in this one and the writing style is super freakin’ good, so it’s definitely worth the read~~~ Pls CHECK TAGS AND WARNINGS cause there are a couple REAL spicy scenes in this one ;)

Team Mom by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead (T) 2.7k // so as I was going through this tag (because that’s what I do LOL), I remembered this fic and I love it. Like yes Yahaba is the fear factor and yes Kyoutani is the DAD. I really like the team dynamics in this one, and the first years make me laugh pls.

Camellias by kiyala (T) 1.9k // I love this fic and when I starting looking for this ship, it was the first one I thought of hehe. I really love magic and their interactions are so cute and the PLANTS ARE DOING THE MOST. Pls read both in the series, cause domestic KyouHaba is best KyouHaba ngl LOL. I love the plants, and if you read the second one, someone tell the trees to stop bullying Yahaba.

Sixth Time’s the Charm by tsumekakusu (T) 2k // ok THIS was SO FREAKING funny, please Yahaba how dumb can you get LOL. The number thing made me facepalm so hard, but the ending was cute and that’s all that matters, right?

Sleep by GangstaCrow (T) 5.5k // the plot twist…. omg…. I had to pause and take a moment of silence for the people suffering because of LL… Poor Kyoutani….. But this is a really funny but cute fic at the same time :D

a little bit funny, this feeling inside by postcanons (G) 5.4k // PLEASE THIS ONE omg crow matchmaker ftw. Like I said, I really love magic and this one is just so freaking funny. Also, very informational curtesy of one Kyoutani Kentarou.

meet me at the fucking pit (and let me hold your hand) by anyadisee (T) 5.4k // IF THE TITLE ISN’T MAKING YOU LAUGH ALREADY WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING????? (JK but am I really?) This was SO funny and it KILLED me,,, like all the conspiracies and how everyone was so seriously invested in it. Yes, CHAOS.

if not, winter by knightswatch (M) 54k // YES THIS FIC. THIS ONE RIGHT HERE. I love the development of their relationship,,, IT’S SO GOOD. Like when our boy Yahaba goes on that really friendly field trip and Kyoutani takes matters into his own hands? UGH YES. And when they visit? CUTE OMG. Yes this fic is it.

Isolated Parts by darkmagicalgirl (T) 3.3k // I love this fic cause old men KyouHaba are funny (fight those refs) and I love the nonlinear plot. It really adds another layer to the fic itself, and slowly unraveling the plot through the different years was SO IUAHFJF. I really loved it and piecing everything together :’)

Magicked by HoneyBeeez (T) 8.4k // CHECK TAGS, I love KyouHaba Hogwarts fics, and this one is SO good! We do love some slightly oblivious Yahaba and fake delinquent Kyoutani LOL. Though there is some violence and homophobia so if that puts you off, steer clear of this fic :)

stardust by InkCaviness (G) 1.4k // like I said, in love with KyouHaba and hogwarts fics, anyway,, this one was so short and sweet! It’s full of fluff, and honestly, if you like KyouHaba, read this entire series cause I really love these KyouHaba works :’)))))

New:

knightswatch // GREAT writer, but most of their KyouHaba works are explicit/mature, so be careful as you go through their works! My fav T one? all you have is your fire by knightswatch (T) 6.4k, but they’ve written some of the best KyouHaba I’ve read (they’re just mostly M)!

kiyala // another amazing writer and their works usually alternate between G and E LOL. But, all of their Gs are amazing, and rn my favorite was between Room To Grow by kiyala (G) 50k or Cost by kiyala (G) 1.1k cause it was either secret doggy relationship or magic LOL. But all of their fics are worth reading, and there’s a large variety of AUs!

snoqualmie // I love this writer, but they don’t have much KyouHaba (enough that I would put them here though LOL) My favorite? Mixed Signals by snoqualmie (T) 7.8k // it’s a really cute fic and I love the hc that Kyoutani has the good family! It has like a semi continuation (I think it’s in the same verse as it), but Jan. 6 features the sisters again! (Also yes for veggie fiend Kyoutani,)

tale as old as time by crossbelladonna (series) 30.2k // AHH this series is fully of such good KyouHaba fic!!!! I really love all of them but my favorite is through open doors by crossbelladonna (T) 4.3k // I love soulmate AUs and salty Yahaba is best Yahaba. Also at the end when the coffee incident happens, I love Kyoutani :’)

Words Not Spoken by Dogsocks (series) 51.5k // this is a continuous fic series (meaning all the fics are in the same verse and related to one another), but it’s so FREAKING good and I love reading it!!! It’s got some mentions of ABUSE, and things like that so please read the tags carefully!!!

kyouhaba week by InkCaviness (series) 6.7k // I loved KyouHaba week (all of them are just such AMAZING fics and tropes) and my favorite from this list was stardust by InkCaviness (G) 1.4k // I mentioned what I loved from it above, but it truly is a great fic :D

Kyouhaba Trash Week 2016 by HoneyBeeez (series) 28.9k // all three of these fics are SO good. I literally cannot choose a favorite because I loved all of them :’) Like no joke, just go read all of them because singing Kyoutani? Yes please. And also like the tattoo one was SO ajksdhfkjshdfjkln I LOVED IT AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE HOSPITAL ONE. I loved loved loved the ending, and her going to the school? UGH ADORABLE. These fics were some of my absolute favorite KyouHaba fics!

Venom and Vulnerability by darkmagicalgirl (E) 48.3k // OAAJKSFNKJ I LOVE THIS ONE YES. The concept? AMAZING. Execution? FLAWLESS. This is a GREAT fic and it’s done SO WELL,,,, I realllllly loved the plot in this and their teamwork is making the dream work! WARNING check the tags and warnings cause there’s smut, (non kinky) bondage, and death!

it's tradition. by hicsvntdracones (T) 5.5k // this fic made me want to die from second hand embarrassment. GOD, the awkwardness and really the way they went HARD on those dares PLEASE. If you don’t mind feeling embarrassed (and even if you do) go read this fic cause it’s V funny and the comedy factor cancels out the embarrassment LOL (does it? That’s what I’m tellin myself LOL).

An Equivalent Exchange by Chibs (E) 14.5k // PLEASE THIS WAS FUNNY,,,, like chill Kyoutani, Yahaba is trying his hardest okay? BUT NOT HARD ENOUGH anyway it’s a happy ending in the long run and no one dies :D how nice is that <3 (but the baby agenda? yessssir.)

The Wall Thing by rideahorse (M) 6.8k // THE TENSION :0,,, but I love how many fics go based on that one KyouHaba wall slam in the middle of the Karasuno match LOL. Also, I love the dynamics they have in this one and the way fighting ~is their communication~ Some smut is here so WARNING and they do something about the tension LOL obviously :))) Constantly curing KyouHaba is good, happy Kyouhaba.

Sixteen by surveycorpsjean (E) 13.4k // Yahaba is a basic btch and Kyoutani does football LOL. Honestly, I think that’s a pretty good summary (jk) but what’s a fic without some good tension ;) Also, cheerleader Yahaba lives in my brain rent free and I would like to propose it live in your head as well :D Aren’t I such a kind soul~

Safe in Your Hands by shions_heart (T) 8.9k // um soft KyouHaba? I think yes,,,, this also do be a common trope in the KyouHaba realm, but I’m not complaining,,,, it’s a good trope :) There IS ABUSE in this fic so big warning here! Check the tags and warnings! But the real mvp is the girl on the bus and points to Yahaba for playing spot the difference unintentionally.

The Sweetest Smile by FindingSchmomo (T) 6.6k // cake making! Yes! Bakery! Yes! It’s a great time and think about it, Kyoutani, our baby, working in a bakery making cakes? UGH my heart :’D Yes Oikawa is right, a cute grumpy puppy making flowers (CUTE VERY CUTE) and it doesn’t help that Kyoutani looks like a total bad boy in this fic too :DDDDDD

wear your love like it's made of hate by parenthetic (renaissance) (T) 3.3k // we are starting this off with the alt title totally worked and I would’ve read it either way LOL. Also, the ending was funny and thinking about why everyone was wearing it would’ve been so confusing to the other teams (also shout out to Yahabas line and Kyoutani calling his eyeliner a whore). But yes to random sexual tension, this is KyouHaba nation.

captain's orders by whitemiists (G) 3.7k // okay we love Watari in KyouHaba nation (surprised I haven’t talked about loving Watari yet but better now than never right?), but also Yahaba being messenger for Kyoutani (baby first years are ajhsajdfh). I love this trope and also I love rooftop lunch crew is yes :D

Running In Place by cleiioo (T) 33.3k // GUYS OMG THIS FIC. CAUTION ABUSE AND RUNNING AWAY AND BAD PARENTS SELF DEPRECATION I COULD GO ON BUT BOTTOM LINE IS BE CAREFUL READ TAGS! This fic is UGHHH YES. First, twenty questions make another appearance, and DUCKS. Yes, ducks. But this fic is just written really well, and honestly Kyoutani might be a tad bit ooc, but it’s okay, you don’t even notice. Distracted by the amazing writing :)

Something About Fate by patteh (T) 4.6k // SOULMATES! And then they were soulmates :D I love a good soulmate denial AU, and this is no exception. I loved Yahana’s backstory in this, and I think it set up a great framework for the plots progression! Also, the ending was really cute (and we all know, I’m a sucker for a cute ending :D)

toeing the line by masi (T) 2.7k // the mcDonalds cause WE’RE LOVING IT! But this was a fun read cause a. it goes pretty fast and b. communication exists? ANyway, I like the ending cause Yahaba is one smooooooth btch! It’s just a lot of banter (playful and not), and I’d read tags jic for this fic :)

bumblebee by shizuoh (T) 1.5k // he got sht on by a bumblebee. Points for creativity Yahaba, points. But this is just a fun, random AU where pepperoni on pizza is a universal aggrievance (esp the infused on cheese kind,,, I feel you Yahaba), we disown furries (for good reason), and you confront people staring at you! This IS a flirting 101 textbook. (also yes Yahaba, murder Mattsun!)

The art of fighting in heels by boxofwonder (T) 8.7k // yeah don’t question this fic. It’s like,,, you just kinda,,,, well,,,,,, I mean who doesn’t want to read about Iwa fighting in heels? Like you’re not thinking about magical guy Iwa? Maybe you should. (the way the summary has nothing to do with KyouHaba, I swear they’re a main component, but no thoughts just Iwa in sailor moon cosplay.)

yahaba vs. the miyagi captains by blessings (T) 3.7k // I love this hc and I wish there was more of it because Yahaba picking fights with everyone is fun and I like the chaos :D Like honestly, the creativity of some of the burns? Just amazing, it filled me with serotonin. I’m not kidding :0 But like, Kyoutani having to make sure that he doesn’t go overboard was askfkahf.

Love the One You Hold by shions_heart (T) 3k // f tough KyouHaba, I’m here for the soft, loving KyouHaba. Like mushy feelings KyouHaba, the kind which makes me feel singler than I already am single. Reassuring of feelings and ajsfdhla KyouHaba. The ending is KYAAA!!! Caution for implied bad parents!

a thousand and one roses by rorarot (T) 3.4k // I love florist Kyoutani and it’s honestly a crime I didn’t recommend more florist Kyoutani fics :( Points for the pun, Yahaba, points. Also, the progression of their relationship was YES, and this fic was SUPER cute :D

It Takes Two by Poteto (G) 24.1k // IT’S COHESIVE KYOUHABA WEEK! I really loved this fic and I enjoyed how they incorporated each prompt into each day! There is homophobia and running away so be careful when reading this fic, and check the tags!

So I Like Your Dog by helloyesIamtrash (G) 4.8k // FIRST, this is within a series of soulmate AU fics (all in the same verse) and SECOND, this was really good! I loved the way Yahaba’s family are a bunch of late bloomers and how YAHABA DIDN’T LET THE MF RUN AWAY. Yes communication, WE LOVE AND STAN.

but tonight i'll need you to stay by InkCaviness (G) 2.2k // the feels were strong with this one :’( Pushing my SOFT KyouHaba agenda. But I LOVE this one for the feels and also because they don’t dance around it. Just straight forward, random a confessions. It’s a great time. But also, I can’t believe he slipped LOL.

Down River Road by carafin (G) 4.4k // I love list fics, I think they’re great and I think I might just have a thing for lists in general (LOL). But also, I love the growth both of them undergo over time and the interactions with Oikawa in KyouHaba fics are always fun :)

I (Heart) You by darkmagicalgirl (T) 3.6k // I really like this fic. Like REALLY like/love. Maybe it’s the ending where Yahaba goes ham on that one guy. Or maybe it’s the magic. I think it’s just cause it’s written spectacularly. But no seriously, it’s a great fic and I really loved the AU :D

Five Times Kyoutani Failed to Say 'I love You' (And One Time He Didn't) by patteh (T) 3k // a 5+1! Yes! TBH I don’t understand the importance of saying ily to your significant others (maybe it’s just because I don’t understand romance very well LOL someone explain it to me), but if it’s important to them, IT’S IMPORTANT TO ME. Also, Kyoutani is dog agenda, full force ahead.

Baby steps (or 'Yahaba's guide to applying eyeliner on a grumpy puppy') by ghostsgf (G) 1.5k // more Yahaba and eyeliner fics! Of course :D If you can’t tell, KyouHaba nation and I really love Kyoutani + eyeliner, so yes. Eyeliner. But also, fractured arms and toilet adventures!

baby don't hurt me by orphan_account (M) 4k // LET ME BEGIN THIS WITH THE A/N AT THE END. YES I AGREEEE. Also SMUT alert but like nothing really happens? And again, while I don’t 100% get the ily thing, this one makes more sense to me and I can see why Yahaba got angry. We love crying boys though ahaha.

Retrograde by dreyars (T) 19.5k // AJFJLSFJLASD ANGST THE ANGST AND I- I love amnesia fics, they have such GREAT angst potential (which was totally used in this fic YES!) and UGH this fic. The feels you go through while reading this but ALSO THE ENDING! YES I LOVE. IN LOVE. THEY’RE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR.

restless by Crawlingthroughashes (T) 2.4k // PLEASE the petty Yahaba agenda is back and the way I ajfhdjkadshlf when he started his plan. BRB CRYING (of laughter ofc). Also the CONFRONTATION. Smooth Yahaba, oh so very mf smoooooth (very much so nailed it). Sugar high trick-or-treater in bunny slippers.

The Time Yahaba gained a boyfriend by sammysosa157 (T) 3.8k // PLEASE I saw the post for this fic and it was SO funny! I really loved this prompt, and the execution of it was done really well. Boo for weird food combinations, though ig if you’re in college and you’re broke, you gotta do what you gotta do :/

wanna give you a kiss by Slumber (T) 2.8k // kith give kithes muah muah (omg I’m so sorry you had to read that no regrets tho ahaha only shame). But this fic is SO cute and boyfriend chicken is fun :D Like the fluff in this fics is just so AJKKJAF and like Watari knows best.

Touch by tetskuroo (T) 2.4k // aihdjk PLEASE. This is SOFT! KYOUTANI! and non a hole but pushy! YAHABA! There is HUGGING cause WHY NOT! But the soft Kyoutani agenda is getting pushed hard today LOL. I mean the mans starts to turns the waters works ons. What more could you possibly need? (other than a cuddle session cause why tf not >:( and me to write normally LOL)

what the night does to the day by deathbyglamour (G) 9.9k // AHH HOGWARTS! I realized I forgot to add this fic to the Hogwarts list and I was so angry at myself. The potion version of our get along shirt :) I loved this fic and their relationship development was lovely :DDDD

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back by Asimi_Shadowborn (T) 30.6k // I love magic AUs and this was ahdjsjjfjs. The trope was amazing, the execution was flawless, and the communication? Nearly nonexistent just how we like it :’) it’s a great read and you’ll regret nothing.

Baby, I bought a dragon by tetsuskitten (T) 1.1k // AJKSFHKJ WITCHES. I love them being witches/warlocks cause IT’S AN AMAZING TROPE DUH. But like the dragon made me laugh, the conman Kuroo is KJAFN. But yes, THERE’S ANOTHER FIC AND IT’S AJSHKJASF YES READ <33333 (why didn’t I just put it as a series, cause I forgot and then I got lazy, leave me be.)

Thorne-blessed by fish_wifey (T) 19.4k // (again, another that HAS ANOTHER FIC but then I was too lazy to transport it up to the series section deal with it.) But THIS YES. First tattoo artist Kyoutani is a sight to see. But also, Yahaba is baby. And like the ending of how it all got resolved was so satisfying and the conflict execution was really creative :D CAUTION FOR THIS ONE, some bullying and violence-ish!

what a wonderful kind of day by qingting (G) 1.2k // PLEASE. I love it when Kyoutani talks to animals, it fills me with joy. But also, ofc points to Yahaba for the new nickname, dog whisperer. Cute and I like it more than Mad Dog chan. Also, Kyoutani’s thoughts on Yahaba were funny and are worth the read LOL. I like pats too, Shiromaru.

what becomes of broken hearts by plumtrees (T) 8.1k // OOOOF some angst right here. Like I’m in paiiiiiiin. But you should read it so we can be in pain together :’D Like the way we had to witness the falling out AND the break up to be happy again. UGH. Just don’t think too much and jump in.

we both know what we know by Slumber (E) 4.7k // UHH EXPLICIT FOR A REASON LIKE WITHIN THE FIRST SECTION I THINK BUT THEN IT CONTINUES AHHAHA. But also, riling Kyoutani up and just teasing him in general? Fun times (at least Yahaba thinks so LOL). But like also, random thought but the comments on the (fake) IwaOi divorce made me laugh LOL.

new constellations by thealmostviki (G) 4.3k // reincarnation AU, but it’s like non linearish! It’s really good and the writing is very eloquent :D I really loved this fic and the ending was UGH adorable! I love references and the way they still feel things in the next lives :’) Milk and honey guys, milk and HONEY.

FINALLY DONE. WHEW. I hope you all enjoyed these fics, and ik my commentary got/was super bad but pls just pretend like you’re not seeing it. I swear once upon a time it was informational but now it’s just me writing random sht down LOL. Again, I love KyouHaba so this honestly was a lot of fun to make (even if I kept complaining about it) and I ended up not splitting the list hence why it’s so long! I hope I made all of you into KyouHaba lovers cause it’s one of my favorite ships :D

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tatertotthethot · 4 years

Text

The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

#su #su future #steven universe #greg universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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kanotototori · 4 years

Text

Goryoujin: what’s the deal with Father? (89-2 edition) - Part 1

(Part 1 - here) (Part 2)

Me for like a year now, halfway joking: father reminds of an onryo haha Adachitoka, crashing through the ceiling: guess what MOTHERFUCKER

As always, Father backstory is living in my mind rent free so in this post, I’ll be talking about goryou(jin), onryo, asserting some facts, asking some questions, talking a lot, but most importantly, I’ll be begging Adachitoka to get the foreplay over with already and give. us. a. FLASHBACK. (please)

Dated: 08/07/2020 Word count: 4426

Ramblings under the cut!

The Facts: What We Know (And What We Don’t)

A little bit wordy but I just wanted to sum up all the relevant information we have so far.

Father was, without a shadow of a doubt, human.

According to Ebisu’s mask data, he lived 1100~ years ago. This would put the beginning of the timeline at around 900~ CE, which is right smack in the middle of the Heian period (794 - 1185).

The Sakura flashbacks take place in and around the old capital of Heian (modern day Kyoto). The manga explicitly mentions the outer street of Kujo (Chapter 46 - official translation, page 14). The exact year is unknown but it’s likely to be after 947 (the year when the construction of Kitano Tenmangu, the shrine dedicated to Sugawara no Michizane we see in the flashbacks, was completed) but before 986 (when Sugawara no Michizane is officially deified as “Tenjin”).

He was very likely a Buddhist priest, judging by the simple motsuke koromo over a white kosode he wears in the flashbacks (the attire of your run-of-the-mill priest in the Heian period); the lingo + imagery associated with him (karma, Liberation, Chiki’s shakujou form) are strongly tied to Buddhist concepts.

He entered Yomi (in what way - by dying or by physically entering - is unclear), was given the first Koto-no-Ha by Izanami, then escaped via an unspecified “loophole” which allowed his soul to be called from Yomi by an unknown person. Real name used in the soul call is unknown.

Izanami - who takes the appearance of the person closest to the viewer - appeared to him as a woman with a pockmarked face, which he lost to an unspecified natural disaster caused by a god(s). This is implied to have fueled his grudge against the Heavens: “Your ilk gets off scot-free for everything you do. But who do you think forgives the debt? People do. No matter how much you take from them, how much you walk all over them. I can’t forgive any of you. Not the gods… or any of the idiots who forgive them.”

After his death, it seems he became something akin to a goryoujin/onryo - either way, in his current state he’s neither god nor human but a “nonexistent creature abandoned by Heaven” whose escape from Yomi trapped him in an eternal cycle of reincarnation into other peoples’ bodies, which he doesn’t get to choose.

He killed gods before realizing that it’s all pointless unless those who put their faith in the gods all died as well.

Although his exact motive for learning how to tame ayakashi is unclear, he states the following when Bishamon faces off with Heaven wielding Nana: “You have something you want to protect, even if it means being forsaken by the Heavens. You’ll do whatever it takes, even if it means following the path of disgrace and dishonor. You’re so predictable, Bishamon. You’re starting to remind me of me.” (Chapter 64 - official translation, page 25)

He named Mizuchi with the Koto-no-Ha.

As far as we know, Yato was born from Father’s one powerful wish, “the only wish [he] has ever been able to wish in [his] entire life”: to cull the herd. He gives him the name “Yaboku” - meaning “night diviner” - when he catches a star falling from Kanoto to Tori. This strongly suggests Father’s knowledge of the Chinese astrology system, as hinted at by the 28 Lunar Mansions illustrated on the cover of Volume 12 (Chinese astrology lore such as the 7 Big Dipper Stars, 9 Luminaries, 28 Lunar Mansions, and 36 Animals were all imported to Japan in the 6th century and later integrated into the esoteric Shingon and Tendai branches of Japanese Buddhism in the mid to late Heian period).

What is a “goryoujin”? (Infodump Part 2)

If you try to google “goryoujin”, “goryojin”, or any variation of this particular word in English, you won’t get any results (that are relevant, anyway). The word “goryoujin” seems to actually be a regional variant of the word goryō 御霊, literally meaning “honorable ghost” with the kanji for “god” 神 tacked on at the end. For the sake of cohesion, I’ll be using goryō from this point forth when talking about mythical goryō outside the context of Noragami.

Emerging in the early Heian period, the word goryō referred to the spirits of aristocrats who had died due to political causes (much like Tenjin, who is himself considered a goryō) and turned into wrathful spirits who carried out their vengeance against the public, causing things like epidemics, wars, and natural disasters. The ancient nobility would then honor these spirits as goryō (thus the name “honorable spirit”) to placate their wrath and turn them into benevolent guardians to bring peace to society (though some sources claim that not all goryō were vengeful spirits); this practice became known as goryō shinko 御霊信仰.

However, over time, the word goryō expanded its horizons - instead of just nobles being venerated due to fears about their wrath, any wrathful ghosts powerful enough could be honored as a goryō by people who feared that they might come back to take vengeance. This much-feared type of yokai 妖怪 is called an onryo 怨霊 (lit. “wrathful ghost”, “grudge ghost”) and any person who died an untimely, particularly grisly, or unnatural death or carried a powerful emotion to the grave (anger, hatred, grief, even intense love turned into jealousy) could become an onryo. Those who were thought to carry a risk of becoming such a spirit would have particular care and respect devoted to their burial and resting place to minimize the possibility of their spirit coming back into the world of the living. (However, it should be noted that most onryo are ghosts of women and very rarely men - and when the spirits of men manifest, it’s usually because of political disputes, grudges, or dying in wars. Adachitoka going for that trope reversal again?)

Onryo have one goal and one goal only in their cursed afterlife: to enact vengeance on those who had wronged them while alive. They are capable of causing harm to those in the world of the living, including physical injury, illness, misfortune, death, and even natural disasters.

Though the strength of an onryo’s curse varies on a case by case basis, they are regarded as incredibly powerful ghosts. Nothing illustrates this better than the Nihon san dai kaidan 日本三大怪談 or Japan’s Three Great Ghost Stories, telling three separate tales of yokai haunting the living: Banchō Sarayashiki 番町皿屋敷 (The Dish Manor at Banchou - Okiku), Botan Dōrō 牡丹燈籠 (Peony Lantern - Otsuyu), and Yotsuya Kaidan 四谷怪談 (The Ghost Story of Yotsuya - Oiwa). Two of the three stories here center around an onryo (Okiku and Oiwa respectively). I won’t go into details about the stories of Otsuyu and Oiwa here (they’re easily found online if you’re interested) but it should be noted that, even to this day, the crews involved in any production of Oiwa’s story (film, plays, you name it) first pay respects to her grave in Tokyo before beginning work since misfortune, physical harm, and even death is said to befall those who are involved in retellings of her story - that’s how feared the power of a truly vengeful onryo is.

*While the English side of the internet didn’t yield any results for “goryoujin”, I did search it in Japanese and from what I could read with my sucky reading skills and a dictionary, the concept was the same as what I’ve read about goryō in English.

Continued here.

#noragami #my post #fujisaki kouto #father #89-2 #3 DAYS OF WRITING AND HERE SHE IS #you can tell i spend 90% of my allotted noragami time thinking abt father #god thank you adachitoka for this GOD tier villain. i love u ma'ams

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naivesilver · 3 years

Note

Top five Pinocchio moments, go!! Be as long winded as you want you know i’m here to listen babey

* cracks knuckles * OH BOY, HERE WE GO

Since you specified I could go on for as long as I wanted, you're going to get the the extremely detailed version of whatever opinion I discover to have while I type this, as is apparently the case every time I answer a Pinocchio ask

Let's go, then!

(Under the cut because it got EVEN LONGER than I'd expected ajsdgfg)

1) Pinocchio's first night in the world

This is the scene that stuck with me the most when I was a kid and first read the book. There's something deeply haunting about the way Collodi describes hunger, and the stormy weather and gloomy atmosphere really set the mood when it comes to picturing this kid (who is fundamentally an asshole but also a scared little boy who's been alive for less than 24 hours) trying to navigate the world on his own.

Also, I've always been intrigued by the concept of him burning his feet and what comes after. Not only because it seems a cruel way to start one's life, but because the fact that part of his body can be ruined and replaced as easily as that...It's kind of mindboggling, isn't it? Pinocchio feels pain in an on-and-off way throughout the entire way, when he's being strangled and caught in a trap and not when he's being stabbed, but I'd wager having one's feet burned should rank above all that, right? Instead he sleeps through it, and doesn't even flinch at having new limbs attached to his body. And 8yo me already wanted to know if the feet would feel foreign to him, since they came from an entirely different piece of wood.

I dunno, I really wish I could poke Carlo himself awake and demand an answer sometimes.

2) The Land of Toys and what led to it

This might sound like an obvious choice, given how vocal I am about my love for Lampwick as a character, but I have been doing some thinking about it and I have even more reasons to mention it.

Sure, Lampwick is an huge explanation of why I would pick it - jackass boy is extremely lovable from the very first second, and his relationship with Pinocchio is both sweet and tragic at the same time. They're friends! Lampwick is his closest friends despite everything! I'm tearing up just thinking about it!

But also, the Land of Toys as a whole. I recently finally put my finger on why the Disney version of it left a bitter aftertaste on my tongue, and it's because they missed the entire point of it, as they did with basically every other aspect of the movie (except Figaro, Figaro can stay).

The Land is supposed to be an eerie, Neverland-esque place where children go to escape responsibilities. Lampwick and Pinocchio spent all their time eating their fill and having parties, making friends with everyone, not breaking down stuff. Pleasure Island was all about doing "adult", forbidden things, but it's hardly believable that a XIX century boy, on the cusp of being considered grown enough to take on grown-up duties and harder labor, would want to accelerate the process - they would hope to stay children a little bit longer, and pay the price for it.

I just wish this aspect was talked about more often, alright.

3) Pinocchio throwing a hammer at the Cricket

Y'all know how it is. So cathartic - I have never reached a high level of self-satisfaction comparable to that, except maybe when the disaster that was GOT season 7 rolled in and we were blessed with the hilarious "how do you answer these charges...Lord Baelish" scene, which had me hollering for weeks.

The Cricket is an asshole. He deserved it, and he didn't even fucking die for all that trouble. Let's move on.

4) Eugene's demise (and follow-up Fairy bullshit)

Okay listen. Listen. This sequence is infuriating. Your father has been lost at sea, some kids tell you the creature who took him could be close, you end up getting framed for (presumed) murder, nearly caught by police, almost fried like a fish, and your mother leaves you half naked with a foot embedded in a door all night and tells you it's your last chance at being on your best behavior??? And nobody says shit about it??? It's frankly ridiculous.

But Pinocchio's tolerance for pain comes into the picture again, and poor Eugene gets bludgeoned over the head for character development, and once I had a discussion with someone over the fact that while Pinocchio's nose grows when he rejects the fisherman's insults over himself, it stays the same when he says that he rubbed against a wall to turn so white, so the hypothesis could be made that the lying thing only works when he's saying good things about himself. That concept still lives rent free in my head, because it opens the door to SO MANY angsty threads of thought.

Also this scene validates my need to dump the Fairy in the river near my house, so. Way to ruin a child's life, bastard.

And on this thread...

5) The Fairy blatantly lying about her health (and failing in her attempt to make me worry for her)

We're towards the end of the book, and yet this woman won't relent on her idiocy. Isn't it wonderful when a mother sends someone to tell her son that she's on the brink of death, but it's just a test for him to prove his worth? Truly heartwarming /s.

But honestly, the point of this choice is that when I first read the book, not only was I really puzzled about this scene, but also the old Italian of the original story unintentionally makes it very funny. You see, the Fairy is supposed to be lying in an hospital bed (HA, I fucking wish), but the way it's worded makes it sound like she's "at the bottom" of an hospital bed, which has always brought to my mind the picture of this woman looking very small at the bottom of a bed that's as deep as a well. Very little has stuck with me as vividly as this image has, fifteen years and counting.

+ Bonus: Japanese-German cartoon Pinocchio being an ADHD icon

This doesn't count as it's not in the book proper, but in the Piccolino No Bouken show (my beloved) Pinocchio is homeschooled by the Fairy in her house in the woods instead of going to school which has inspired my own Lampwick fic on the matter, and there is a scene where this poor idiot is trying to sit through his schoolwork and not only his brain won't cooperate, but his legs start moving on their own and forcing him to run up and down instead. When I tell you that little undiagnosed neurodivergent me had an epiphany on that day...So many adaptations could NEVER.

Also the PNB Fairy is literally one of the worst versions I have ever seen, but I digress.

#freenklin-labby #ask meme #pinocchio #back to my bullshit as usual #ngl I probably have a list of adaptation scenes that live rent free in my mind as well #or a worst fairy ranking #I could go on all day #well not now bc I am so tired I can't even be sure this is correct english #but tomorrow

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lelenoir · 3 years

Text

characters;; wong kunhang, wong yukhei [ft: yuna and sejun (ocs)]

word count;; 4.8k

warnings;; hallucinations, implied character death, hendery discreetly trying to kill you

part of @starryqian & @takitaro 's stephen king collab,, this is very late im so sorry :(

shoutout to @jenoir for proofreading this messy baby :')

sorry if comes off as a bit rushed :(( i was ✨struggling✨ and i wanted to get this out soon

NIGHT SEVEN

Run. Run as fast as you can. Run till your legs burn. Run till the sun dies out. Your life depends on it.

The woods were an unforgiving place. Especially at night when the lights turn off and the mind is at its all time high. The sounds you were hearing were unmistakable. The footsteps and the chunk of leaves cracking beneath them told you they were close. And they were coming in fast.

Your breaths came out in pants while your legs begged you to stop. But you couldn't, not when you came all this way. Suffered days in the harsh wrath of mother nature. No, you couldn't afford to die now. And as if things weren't worse enough, you tripped on an overarching root. A wild thorn grazing the skin of your ankle, making you hiss.

The sounds were getting closer now but your legs had already given up. Already turning to jelly as soon as you'd stopped running. You huddled yourself against a nearby tree in hopes of its protection. The low growl that erupted from whatever was out there echoed around the trees like a villain toying with its prey.

Your instincts were telling you to gather whatever you could. To pray to whatever higher being was up there for one last miracle. But you knew better. There were no gods that could hear you within these woods.

So you count to ten like Hendery taught you and braced yourself at the mercy of whatever being was on the other side of the trunk.

Five… four… three… two… one.

DAY ONE, TWO HOURS BEFORE

Friends. You love them. You care for them. And you'd do pretty much anything for them. Right now you really hated that concept. And you really hated the way you'd fallen for it.

Sitting in the backseat of a car with your friend and her boyfriend arguing in the front was not how you expected your Friday to go. You grumbled under your breath, looking out the window as you watched landmarks pass by. You were such a great friend. And in your greatness as a friend, you let yourself be strung along to what you've just declared as 'the worst weekend of your life'.

"If you want to stop then stop! I'm just saying that with all the places you want to stop by we might not get to the one place we actually want to go in time." She argued, putting air quotes on the words 'stop by' with an over the top eye roll. That's your friend, Yuna. She wasn't like that most of the time, the opposite actually. In your friend group she was considered as this huge ball of sunshine. Her current boyfriend just brings out the worst in her, which, in your book, is reason number one on why she should break up with him.

"You say it's okay but then you always add something like that. If you don't want to just say it! No need to act like such a saint." And on the left corner was, you guessed it, her boyfriend Sejun. As an individual, he was okay. A little douchey but everyone has a bit of douchiness inside of them in your opinion. However, pair him up with Yuna then that's a different story. They were like monsters, only acting up when close to one another. It makes you wonder why they're still holding on to each other. But, alas, humans are very complex creatures. You'd rather read a book than try to understand them.

So you do. You whip out 'Alice in Wonderland' off your bag and start reading. You didn't like butting into other people's relationships, much less going on weekend trips with them but Yuna, your sweet amazing friend, managed to convince you to go with them. How? Through bribery. Yup, after promising you that you were free for this and next month's rent, you were quick to settle your belongings. You were a simple girl with simple priorities and at the top of that list of priorities is surviving college.

You'd read at least two chapters when they'd decided to stop at some mountain. Being the sporty and outgoing couple that they were, they weren't here to take pictures nor eat at the local diner. No. They were here to hike.

You sighed in defeat when Yuna visibly beamed at you. You reluctantly placed your book down next to you before grabbing your small bag of food and water.

The two were now giving each other the silent treatment while Yuna held onto you like a leech. It was awkward to say the least, especially with the side glances they keep giving each other and you were in the middle of it. Like a small child in the middle of their parents' divorce all over again. You hated it.

You could already feel the energy getting drained away from you and you hadn't even stepped on the mountain yet. That's how intense they were. You never voiced it out. Too afraid that they might gang up on you instead of each other. They may be worse against each other but together, they're a nightmare. You much preferred them going at each other's throats rather than yours.

The mountain was as green as you expected it to be. There was a clear path set out at the foot of it with little to no people standing by. It was higher than most you'd climbed and a vast forest enveloped it. The place was quiet and it looked like one of those towns that rarely had anything bad happen to it but on the off chance that something did happen, it was bad. Really bad.

"Okay so we have like an hour here before we continue on our trip." Yuna said, looking at the map in her hands. "This should be fun."

Really? You wanted to ask. But oh you were such a good friend. You scoped the mountain once again, already dreading the experience as Yuna gestures you to come forward and Sejun already walking up the path. You sighed to yourself, opting to give yourself an internal pep talk as your legs carried you to the start of a very begrudging journey.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

An hour had passed. And you know it had, based on the watch you'd carried on your wrist. The small diner at the bottom of the mountain had already left your vision minutes ago.

On your way up, the ground diverged into two paths. The right side leading towards a secluded resort while the other pointed towards an upward slope. The couple opted to take the left. Your frown deepened.

One hour, my ass! You screamed in your mind, throwing a mini tantrum as you glared at Yuna's back. Your feet stomping on the (thankfully) dry ground, lips pursed and brows stitched together. You hated being a good friend.

In the midst of your childish antics, you heard a chain snap off your bag. You quickly turned around to see your treasured key chain on the ground. It was a gift from your late mother, a small remembrance of the time you both went to Disneyland. The first and last time. You bent down to pick it up when a sudden flash of white tore through your line of sight.

A white rabbit stood in front of you, your keychain tucked in between its mouth as it stared at you. As if waiting for you to chase it. Its red eyes bore into yours.

They say when your eyes focus on one thing, everything around you blurs in the distance. Nothing but muffled background noises and subtle outside forces. That should've been your first warning.

"Why are you even yelling at me?" Sejun complained, snapping your attention back. They were back at it again. You hadn't even heard Yuna yell at him during your short daze. You held back for a while, watching them argue as they walked. That should've been your second warning.

Like a magnet, you felt your gaze shift back to the rabbit. Indistinct whispers emerged around you. That should've been your third. You glared at the small creature still holding on to your precious trinket before it suddenly dashed in the woods. You clenched your teeth, unable to stop yourself as you followed after it. Strike.

DAY ONE

You cheered in triumph as you retrieved your belonging, smirking at the rabbit as it looked up to you. The rabbit cocked it's head on one side, as if to question you, before hopping away from you. You furrowed your eyebrows before finally looking around where you were. Your eyes widened at your surroundings. The green scenery of the trees covered your vision as you cautiously stepped forward. The path was nowhere to be found and dead silence engulfed the air.

"Yuna?" You called out anxiously. "Sejun?" You tried once more. "Yuna!" You say louder but there was no reply. You looked up to the beating sun. It was noon. You couldn't tell which was east or west.

"Yuna!" You screamed. A flock of birds flew in the distance. The loud crows and scampers of the forest animals harmonised with your echo. "Sejun!"

You gulped. You looked in between the trees, trying to decipher even a small silhouette of a clearing. You narrowed your eyes, loosening up your shoulders and hands before taking another step. Then another. And another until you're finally walking towards god knows where. You were slow but you weren't really in a rush.

You pulled your bag closer to your body.

The slightest of sounds rang in your ears making you snap your head to every direction only to see that there was nothing there. That never eased your paranoia. You can feel its eyes trail along the fabric of your jacket. Feel its breath on the back of your neck. Hear its growls close to the shell of your ear. You clasped your shaking hands together, your nervousness evident as your legs began to turn jelly.

"Y-yuna!" You called out helplessly. Tears began to tickle the sides of your temples. "Anyone!?"

It was like that time you went to an amusement park with Yuna. The loud thundering rhythm in your chest, the strong rush of adrenaline leaving your body as soon as it entered, not to mention the growing anxiety constantly increasing as every second passed. It was almost hard to breathe. Almost difficult to take another step.

You collapsed on the ground, spent and shaking. Your hands stayed close to your chest in an attempt to keep warm as the air seemed to have gotten cold---despite being scorching a few moments ago---vision already hazy as you began to slip out of reality.

Just then, a figure emerged from the trees. His tall stature crouched down to get a better look at you. You couldn't even muster up a smile in relief at the stranger. Too tired to feel the cold hand on your cheeks, lightly slapping you back to reality.

Then you let yourself be engulfed in darkness.

DAY TWO

You jolt awake at the impact of his toes on your knee. Your eyes, still blurry from exhaustion, had a hard time adjusting to the harsh light of the afternoon sun.

"You're awake." A voice sighed in relief. You turned your attention to the sound, unsure and terrified as you drew your arms in front of you. "Woah, no need to fight there, little one."

"I'm not a child." You tell him but the stranger merely cocked his head to the side. His gaze curiously fixed on you before smiling.

"Then why are you here?" He shot back. The question seemed to hang in the air and an unsettling ominous feeling creeped up your spine as you mustered up your answer.

"I got lost." You say, face almost a breath away from his as he leaned in closer before prompting his head to nod.

"Exactly." He grinned. "Surely an adult wouldn't get lost within these woods. Especially for a silly trinket such as this." He holds out an object engulfed in his hand. There lay your keychain, dangling in the air and close to your face. You lifted your hand to take it until the stranger dropped it on the ground. It was not much of an action but it was humiliating as you tentatively picked it up from the soil.

"You must be hungry, aren't you?" The stranger lifted his body off the ground.

"Who are you?" You asked, voice still weak as you struggled to support your weight.

He smirked, staring down at you in utter confidence. "Hendery will do for now." You furrowed your eyebrows as he crouched down, once again, in front of you then putting your bag on your lap. "Eat up, little one."

Meanwhile…

"I didn't even notice. God what kind of a person doesn't notice her friend has gone missing." The girl sobbed for the nth time that day. Only a few of the officers paid her any mind while a boy, he assumed to be her boyfriend, sat next to her with his arms engulfing her in a comforting hug.

Lucas sighed at the pitiful sight, there was really nothing much he could do now. The map splayed in front of him was scribbled with a small 'x' within a large circle. He stared menacingly at the location.

"Detective," one of his subordinates came up to him. " What's our course of action?"

He sighed, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The subordinate couldn't understand his superior's reaction. Why did he look so distressed? It's only been a day since the victim has gone missing. They could be weak or injured, but that's about it. Throughout his time here, a handful of people got lost and all of them have been found.

"Sir?" He succeeded in getting Lucas out of his reverie. The detective then moved his fingers to rub at the lines on his forehead.

"Have everyone search in pairs around the perimeter." He finally ordered.

The subordinate nodded before scurrying off to relay the command.

It was futile. Lucas wanted to say but then that would make him look lazy. He never liked the word, but it was one that described his opponent greatly. He's been lazy. It was suspicious that he managed to find those lost tourists so easily, often they were found by their companions if they searched hard enough, but somehow this search has now stretched for a day.

The missing person, L/n Y/n, was last seen by her two friends yesterday, November 15, XXXX. It has been a day since then. The longest search in five years.

Lucas narrowed his eyes at the small x located at the north east side of the map.

What are you playing at, Kunhang?

xxx

"Keep up, little one. We have a long way ahead of us." Hendery calls out, walking a few feet away from you. His strides, quick and wide, has you picking up your pace. You couldn't help but pant as you trail behind him, the food in your pack weighing you down a bit but you couldn't afford to leave them behind.

"Why are you doing this?" You askes in between heavy breaths. Relief washed over you when he paused.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Why are you helping me?" You finally caught up to him. You splayed your arm out to the nearest tree as you calmed your breathing.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" He shot back as if it was stupidly obvious.

"Yes but--"

"You hear a person desperately calling out to someone for help and they sound incredibly in need. Wouldn't you help them?" You stared at him in shock, both of you quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Isn't mankind built to be rational and compassionate? Do you doubt me as a person?"

"N-no I was just curious." Hendery narrowed his eyes at you, pursing his lips as he thought deeply. Not long after, a smile stretched on his face.

"Right, curiosity does come from rationality. I can't really blame you for being human I guess… but you must understand, little one, curiosity is a double edged sword. Once you wield it recklessly, the consequences may be severe." He looked away from you, eyes focusing on whatever was ahead before assuming his previous trek. "Keep up, little one, the sun won't last forever."

"Where are we going?" He smiled at that and you noticed that he had gone at a slower pace than before, walking side by side with you.

"You've used your curiosity well I see. We are going to find shelter. It's been hours now so the police are probably already looking for you. I don't know where you started running but let's hope this area of the forest is still part of the search. Daylight is slowly dying and we need to find a safe place rather than that clearing you passed out in."

"Why are you here then?" You asked. "In the forest, I mean."

"One thing about mankind is that they don't recognize chances." He whispered under his breath. A sound of confusion escaped your lips, he either ignored it or didn't hear it. "Some things are better left a secret, little one. Use your curiosities wisely."

DAY THREE

"If an animal comes rushing at you, what do you do?" Hendery asked one morning as he sat at the edge of the small stream you'd found.

In the years you'd watched documentaries and survival movies, one thing always played a vital role in human survival: water. So when you happened to come across the stream, the both of you couldn't say no to the opportunity. During your walk yesterday, the both of you came across a small shack hidden by the trees: its wooden walls looked old and were infested by moss; however you weren't really picky. It was the only shelter you could find and you lacked the supplies and skills to even attempt making a tent. There was a small window on one side and a few empty shelves on the other.

You thought for a while about his question before telling him the first answer that comes to mind. "Dodge it, I guess."

He stood up from his seat, walking towards you before sitting next to you. In a flash, you felt his hand push against your collarbone, sending you back on the ground.

He looked down at you and hummed. "Seems pretty ineffective."

You glared. "I wasn't ready."

"And what makes you think that you'll be ready when the attack comes?" He raised an eyebrow. You opened your mouth to retort but no words came. "I thought so."

He pushed his body off the ground once again. This time, to inspect the plants behind you.

"What would you do then?" He smirked.

"Like you said, I'll dodge." He starts, swaying his body slightly for a moment before suddenly running towards you. "Then attack." He whispered, just by your ear and you felt a chill run down your spine. A small shadow rose above you and it's then that you saw a large rock in his hand, parallel to the skull of your forehead. You sensed the object pick up its pace and you barely had enough time as you moved your head away from its course.

Hendery smashed the rock to the ground. His body slanted forward and you took this chance to stand and land a hit directly at his nape with the side of your hand. He jolted forward at the force and you started to distance yourself away from him.

"What the fuck, Hendery?" You watch in slight horror as he chuckled lightly before turning to you with a smile.

"No need to worry, y/n." He picked up a piece of the rock. "It's shale," he held it up with his fingers before breaking them, "practically harmless."

You let him walk past you before making your way towards the remnants of the stone. Looking back, you see him occupy himself with some berries on a nearby bush. You gently picked up a small piece of the rock, imitating what Hendery just did with his fingers.

It wouldn't budge.

You furrowed your eyebrows, this time using both hands to break it. The sheer force of your finger tips made your skin slip. A small cut was drawn on your thumb and you narrowed your eyes on it.

You looked over to Hendery who was now picking out some berries. You glared at his back. This fucker was trying to kill you.

You decided not to voice out your concerns. It was smarter to observe him for now and run away later.

Use your curiosities wisely. The words echoed in your mind as you gripped the strap of your bag tighter.

It'd been a while since he's had this much entertainment. From a human, no less. Usually they would've been dead by now or begging for their pitiful lives. But you? You were something special.

Hendery couldn't help but smirk.

DAY FIVE

"You don't trust me." You flinched at the sound of his voice. All of the forest seemed to have stopped moving for a second as you scramble for your thoughts.

You whip around, ready to deny the accusation before he lifted one finger up to silence you. "I don't really blame you about this but then why are you still here?"

Why were you still here?

You had an answer to that of course but admitting it out loud would've exposed you further to the man in front of you. You were afraid, weak and very fragile at this point. Your body was growing unbearably hot and your head has been in pain since yesterday. You didn't want to inform him of your state.

"There's safety in numbers. I don't know what's out there and frankly, I'm not prepared to face them either." You answered curtly. The response heightened Hendery's interest and he couldn't help but wonder: why would you lie?

Fortunately, he let it go. Being as he was, he asked you another question. "If an animal stalks you while you're powerless, what would you do?"

"Another one of your hypothetical scenarios?"

He shrugged, "you'll never know."

"Guess I'll die."

Hendery blew raspberries at that, unable to contain his laughter at your blunt reply. "You really are amusing, aren't you?"

"What do you suggest I do then?"

"Good point," he thinks for a moment, resting his chin on his fingers in a childish manner that made you slightly confused about the different sides he held. He sighed in defeat, "it really is a hopeless case!" He groaned, "the least you could probably do is count to ten and hope for the best."

You raised an eyebrow at him, holding back a humoured smile. "Thanks for the tip."

He grinned, "you're welcome!"

xxx

That night, a low rumbling growl awoke you from your slumber. You jumped up from your position, the thin blankets of leaves rustling below you as you looked around the dark room. The dim glow of the moon didn't help much but you could faintly see a huge silhouette of a figure standing right outside the window. Its back was turned in your view and you couldn't identify what it was.

You looked to your side to see Hendery gone. You panicked, the adrenaline spiking up to your lungs as you began to panic. The figure was still out there and it was not going anywhere.

You take a cautious step forward, the floorboards creaking as you did so. You tensed at the loud sound. Your whole body froze, keeping an eye at the window when the door of the shack suddenly opened.

"Did I wake you?" Hendery asked, rubbing his temples while he stood at the door. "I needed to pee."

"N-no?" He only nodded his head before groggily walking to his spot on the floor.

You were now wide awake. The will to sleep abandoning you as you hesitantly lay on your back.

The shadow was still there.

DAY SEVEN

"Hey y/n," you looked up from your seat to the man next to you. The slight flinch of your shoulders didn't go unnoticed by him.

You'd been exceptionally jumpy since yesterday and Hendery knew why. Fear was a cord that humans could never cut off. Once you're introduced to an unknown being, your whole body freezes as you desperately try to make sense of what you've witnessed, just to ease your irrational mind.

"We don't have any food left." Hendery says, holding out the empty wrappers of the bread you ate the night before.

You thought for a while, the image of the shadow pushed to the back of your head for a short while. "I guess we need to start looking for something to eat? I think there are some edible berries and plants we can collect."

He appeared to be considering it before nodding his head. "Okay! I'll go look for something to eat. Go start up a fire y/n to keep us warm while I go in the woods."

You nodded your head, already preoccupied with the grass, thoughts wandering back again to whatever it was that you saw.

With the way you were going, it almost felt like Hendery had only been gone for a few seconds when he came back just to see you hunched over; the same stance you had when he left. He sighed.

"You okay?" And there you were again, jumping a few good centimeters away from him. "I told you to start a fire."

Your eyes widened in shock before sputtering out multiple apologies. Hendery pressed his lips to a thin line.

"I'll start it, don't worry y/n. Just stay here." You nodded, eyes focusing on the ground that you failed to see the smirk on your companion's lips. He handed you a leaf filled with mushrooms, berries and some nuts.

"I hope they find us soon." You huffed, lifting a few of the food to your lips. Hendery watched you intently, smiling to himself before picking at the edibles on his makeshift plate.

"I hope so too. It's already been a week."

Suddenly, you felt your vision turn hazy. You furrowed your brows, concentrating on a specific tree as it morphed with its surroundings. "H-hendery?"

You lazily turned your head to your side, the weight felt light on your neck that you whipped faster than you've anticipated. Thus, your brain began to ache. You focused on Hendery's features, his expression unreadable as he, too, became a blurry mess of lights and shadows.

Once your eyes finally closed, Hendery let out the chuckle he's been holding in. He lifted your body off the ground.

Thus the game comes to end.

NIGHT SEVEN

Four… three… two… one…

You opened your eyes when you realised your limbs were still intact. The animal was nowhere in sight. Still, you couldn't shake off the overwhelming presence you felt all around you.

Looking around, it was pitch black. No shine of the moonlight peeked through the leaves of the trees, no sound of the whistles of the wind as you stood up from your terrified stance. Cautiously, you took a step forward. Your bag slumping down your shoulders before falling to the ground.

Your whole body felt weightless and you didn't find enough care in you to pick it up. Not even when the gleam of your treasures keychain sparked your vision.

You were tired.

You fell forward, a flash of bright white lights shocking your eyes as you squinted. A hum of a familiar lullaby and a chorus of footsteps neared your fragile body. You allowed your eyes to close as you finally relaxed, feeling the warmth of an embrace wrap around you. The smell of mint and chocolates killing you to sleep as gentle hands lift you up.

The soft song never faltered, vibrating across the person's chest and to your warm cheek.

You were going home.

xxx

In the shadows, Hendery watched as multiple police officers circled your body. One of them, Wong Yukhei, lifted you off the ground. He shakes his head in disappointment and regret at the state you're in: head bloodied, limbs bruised, and skin already blue.

Cold hands and feet already limp from the games he played, strumming your chords throughout the week until you eventually snapped.

Hendery hummed, a sweet lullaby in contrast to his wicked deeds. There was no shadow, no animal, nor a Hendery to begin with. It was all a byproduct of the scared, fragile and lonely human mind.

"How unfortunate, little one."

#nct-writers #neothestars #neowritingsnet #wayvhoursnet #kpopscape #starryktown #wayv imagines #wayv hendery #wong hendery #hendery imagines #hendery x reader #wong kunhang #wong guanheng #wong kunhang x reader #wong kunhang imagines #collabs

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memoriashell · 3 years

Text

the luck of the draw ( surely is not in her favor )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), ft. ( some of ) Class 78

crossposted on ao3

Notes: day two of @tokomaruweek, i'm combining the killing game and talentswap prompts!! it’s still before midnight i’m totally not late at all here,

featuring my totally not original talent / roleswap luck student komaru au. because creativity is dead and i think komaru being stuck in a killing game is ??? when you think about the fact that komaru canonically sees ghosts. you KNOW she ends up possessed by one of the dead students in the last trial bc someone wants to say fuck you to the mastermind :/ also the fact that syo remembers shit but just never says anything feels like great potential!! they just want to love their partner but toko won’t let them front this is homphobia /j

anyways this au just lives in my wips rent free bc i keep changing my mind on how i want things to play out anyways. so this is more of a concept and not canon to that au if i ever finish it and that's also why this takes place in ch1 so i don't gotta think too hard on the details <3 any talents brought up are the ones i'm for sure sticking with.

tws for touko's general paranoia / anxiety / etc, mentions of murder bc kg au, and also since i usually depict syo as nonbinary with they/them pronouns, komaru’s technically accidentally misgendering them from her pov bc she doesn’t/can’t tell that syo is fronting, in case that bothers you!!

Summary: for being chosen on the basis of luck, it doesn't feel like she's ever going to catch a break here.

It’s quiet, this morning.

Not that she really knows any better— they’ve only been trapped in the school with the murder bear for a few days, after all. So maybe Komaru’s focusing on the wrong part.

It’s less that it’s quiet, there’s a few faces missing that she’d have expected to get there before her. Especially since she’d managed to sleep through her alarm again and had been kind of late; she had fully expected to be greeted with a lecture as soon as she’d gotten to the dining hall. Alright, one person specifically that stands out in her mind, but it hasn’t gone unnoticed by her that Fukawa’s not there yet. Weird, given the moral compass had lectured her for being tardy to meet up with everyone on their first day, and then for sleeping in the first morning, but...given the videos that bear had shown them the previous day, she supposes she can’t blame some people to feel reluctant to show up. Maybe that’s where she is? Going around to check on people? She had seemed a little paranoid that people were skipping out on gathering in the morning on purpose...

( Because she really, really doesn’t want to think about the possibility that Fukawa, or any of her other classmates might possibly be dead. That someone would have actually gone through with trying to kill one another? So she simply won’t think about that fact. It feels kind of like a Pavlovian...no, wait, that’s the wrong person. Uh. Freudian theory? Ah! Schrödinger’s cat. Yeah, that kind of scenario )

Okay, that settles it! She should probably have breakfast first, and if Fukawa hasn’t shown up by the time she finishes, she’ll go see if she can find her. Besides, she’s sure they aren’t the only ones who are concerned about the ones that haven’t shown up. Maizono seemed super nice ( unsurprisingly ), so maybe if she’s still hanging out in the dining hall, Komaru can convince her to help her in her search! Now that she thinks about it, she can probably ask anyone that comes by the dining hall for any leads.

...But why does she care so much in the first place? It’s not like she doesn’t care about the others: even the ones already dead— she can’t place why exactly she feels attached to people she barely knew, but she’s always been pretty sentimental. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the way Fukawa seems to try so hard to be close to people in one moment, and then so distant in the next.

In any case, standing in front of the fridge and spacing out is probably far from a good idea, besides the obvious fact that she’s in the way— she doesn’t even notice that someone has decided to take advantage of her distracted state to pull the wool over her eyes. Er, the hoodie of her jacket, technically.

She’s hardly gotten a chance to push the hood back before a hand comes down on her head to ruffle her hair. Or, well, she presumes that is his intention, even if the gesture comes off as more of a light noogie. She puffs her cheeks out in a pout, glaring up while the other smirks down at her. “‘Sup, squirt? Falling asleep on yer feet, or is there another reason yer zoning out in the middle of the kitchen?” The baseball star tosses an apple in his hand like one would with a ball, and she considers lightly kicking Oowada’s ankles in retaliation.

“Just thinking. You probably shouldn’t play with your food like that though.” She responds, and he makes a face at her.

“Ah, so ya do still got something still rattlin’ in that tiny head of yours, good. Worried I knocked everything outta ya.” He teases, reaching past her to open the fridge door. “An’ why would you do that to yerself? It’s still too early in the mornin’ fer that shit.”

“Well...I’m just a little worried. There are fewer people hanging out in the dining hall this morning.” She admits.

He scowls. “Pretty sure they’re just antsy ‘cause of that damn bear ‘nd if any of them have a lick of sense in ‘em they’ll be busy looking fer a way out or somethin’. Don’t worry yer pretty lil’ head about it.”

“...Yeah, I guess.” She can’t help but worry, but her concern isn’t exactly going to help right now, at any rate. Maybe she’ll just find something that she can take with her to eat. “Oh! But speaking of that, did you happen to see Fukawa-san on your way here? I would’ve thought she would have stayed around here this morning, honestly.”

“Her? Mm, yeah, heard her and Ishimaru goin’ at it in the halls earlier—”

“They were what?” Before he can finish his sentence, Asahina’s voice cuts in from behind her, pitch breaking midspeech.

“Fighin’! They were jus’ yelling at each other! N...Not anything weird!” Oowada backtracks in a panic when he realizes how poorly his wording could be misconstrued, even if such a thought never occurred to her. “Jeeze, ya think the Public Morals chick would engage in that shit? Not that I don’t think she might be a bit hypocritical with her rules ‘nd shit but—”

“No! No, I don’t! That’s why I was asking!” Asahina retorts with a huff, and while they bicker, Komaru takes this as an opportunity to slink out of the kitchen with a slice of toast. Unfortunately, Maizono seems to have left in that span of time, but the Clairvoyant happens to be sitting alone, so she figures she might see if she has anything interesting to contribute.

Enoshima opens an eye to stare at her upon hearing her footsteps, presumably, and before Komaru can even greet her, she speaks, monotone. “Four.”

Whatever question you’d planned to say dies in your throat, instead sputtering out a bewildered, “H-Huh?”

“It’s your lucky number for the day.” She sounds bored, as if she’d been stating the obvious, instead of some cryptic statement.

“...Isn’t that the number of death?” She is less certain of herself than she wants to be, ignoring the shiver that runs down her back upon realizing this.

Enoshima grins at that, for reasons she doesn’t understand; cheery voice a total 180 from what it’d been moments ago. “Well, perhaps it means you’ll be having a meeting with death today? Probably about time someone kicked the bucket, someone was bound to snap sooner or later... I’m sure your luck will kick in though, right? But I’ll wish you good luck anyways!”

“Thank you...?” Is that the appropriate response here? She’s not sure, but it’s probably not worth lingering on any longer than she already has, and decides with a rising urgency that maybe she should find Fukawa.

Although, recounting the conversation in the kitchen, she wonders if she should check on Ishimaru as well. Neither of them really struck Komaru as the kind to fight ( with their fists, at least, Fukawa’s mouth seemed set on picking a fight half the time ), so to say she was a little concerned might be an understatement. Given the writer had a tendency to be more openly friendly she could probably get a straight...well, an honest answer from him as to what had happened.

But she wanders for what feels like ages, and doesn’t have any luck ( haha, the irony ) in finding any hint as to where either of them might have gone, and decides to stick to her efforts to find Fukawa first. Ishimaru seemed like the type to be more resilient, so maybe she can catch him around their next meal time. If he didn’t lose track of time again, at least...

Ugh, she’d kill to honestly run into anyone around here. Not literally kill, obviously, but for reasons she’s been trying to keep quiet on, she really hates wandering the halls alone: or most places that they can access right now, to be honest. She keeps seeing this one ghost this one ghost in particular ( or at least Komaru is pretty sure she’s a ghost ), but she refuses to acknowledge her hanging around because that would be weird, and she would like to seem normal and if someone saw that it’d be a hassle to explain.

Fortunately, her search finally turns up fruitful when she finds Fukawa spacing out in the A/V room.

...Unfortunately for her, finding Fukawa earns her a pretty close brush with death. In the blink of an eye, a pair of scissors are thrust against her throat, pinning her back against the moment she steps into the room.

Oh. Uh. Oh god? Was Enoshima actually right about that? Her breath catches in her throat and for a moment, she wonders who would find her if she was killed here. Would they care? What about her parents— Makoto?

Would they sigh and just ponder if she’d ever been lucky at all?

And just as quick, the cold metal is pulled away from where it rests against her neck. “Oh. It’s just you.” The words are spoken with more warmth than she can ever recall hearing Fukawa speak with, which is really weird considering what just went down.

Ever so smartly, Komaru doesn’t actually process what is said to her, and responds with, “Isn’t that technically against the rules?”

A thin eyebrow is raised at her, scissors being tucked away under her shirt. Uh. “No? That’s what they want, right? Or are you so naive that you think that everyone would really follow the rules?”

Well. She’s probably not entirely wrong in thinking that she’s naive, but... “Isn’t, uhm. Isn’t that your thing, though? The rules?”

Fukawa looks startled to have this pointed out to her, for some reason. “Oh, hahaha, yeah. T-Totally! I was just...uh, testing you.”

Okay, now she’s just downright acting strange? Komaru’s willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that maybe she’s just acting odd because the videos are weighing on her mind. They are in the AV room, after all. Something doesn’t add up though, but she can’t quite place what it is...

Komaru opens her mouth to ask the other a question, but when she looks back over at Fukawa, her expression has gone kind of...distant? Hazy? She doesn’t quite know how to describe it, and begins to ask if she’s feeling okay when the other girl sort of...collapses into her, arms going around her loosely. She panics a little because that can’t be a sign of anything good, right? Is she feeling dizzy? She’s not passed out, and at least she’s breathing normally. She’s surprisingly pretty light, so it’s not like it’s really an issue to just help support her until she feels better.

The only warning that she gets is the feeling of the other girl tensing up before Fukawa suddenly bolts upright and shoves herself away. Komaru frowns a little, not because of the sudden change in attitude ( if anything, she finds that strangely reliving ), but moreso out of concern, attempting to reach her hands out to help steady her on her feet, but gets her hands slapped away before she can do so. “Don’t touch me.” She hisses.

Okay she’d be lying if she said that didn’t sting, but she can’t help but laugh for a moment. “Ahaha— sorry, I’m not laughing at you. For a moment there, you seemed like a completely different person! I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Fukawa-san.” If she were more aware of the situation, she might feel more guilty for being unintentionally insensitive: but as she doesn't, she simply misses the way the other looks nervous for a moment while she wonders what that had been all about ( but can’t quite gather the nerve to actually ask ).

“Y-Yeah, real likely story. You just...just came to l-laugh at me in a moment of weakness, r-r-right?” She glares, hands clenched. “I know your type! No one is...is actually that nice w-without some kind of ulterior motive.”

Is that what she actually thinks about me?

“No! I really am glad to see you’re feeling better. You really had me scared there for a minute.” She says sincerely, offering her a reassuring smile. “If you want, I’ll listen to whatever’s bothering you. It’ll stay between us.”

Fukawa scowls, watching her for a long minute with a guarded expression. “There w-was something on the, uh, disc that Monokuma gave you, right? Just like— like everyone else?”

Huh? Well, if this is what it takes to get her trust, then she supposes she can talk about it... “Yeah. It was my parents and my older brother. It’s...kinda scary to think about, honestly. What about you, Fukawa-san? Was it also your family?”

“No. M-M-Mine was blank. Because...because there was no one to choose. Or so he says.” Her jaw is clenched. “Of course, I had to— I acted like I was the same as everyone else, b-because it’d be strange if I didn’t, right? You’d think I was, was working with them or something...everyone would really hate me after th-yhat.”

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure Togami-san didn’t even blink an eye...?” She tries to bring up as a counterpoint, but apparently she has more to say.

“A-A-And before you ask, it’s not like they’re wrong about that, so...so it didn’t surprise me to here it. But everyone got s...something similar, right? All these personal th-things about us...just how much do they really know? How are we supposed to act like, like this is all normal when they’ve got that kind of leverage over us...!”

Oh. She’s shaking— she’s scared. She’s been putting up a front? Komaru puts two and two together after a moment, gently taking the other girl’s hands in her own. This time, she doesn’t get pushed away.

“I’m scared too.” She admits. “Thinking about it like that is scary. But that’s what they want from us, right? To make us scared, so we act the way he wants us to, right?”

Fukawa remains silent, but the conflicted look on her face at least indicated that she was paying attention to her and not ignoring her like she might’ve feared. Komaru squeezes her hands in an attempt to be reassuring. “But you think we’ll all get out alive, right? So no matter what, as long as you believe that, no matter what they might know we’ll be okay. And if you don’t think you can do that on your own, I’ll be right here to support you. So we’ll definitely get out alive, it’s a promise...!”

“You...You really don’t know wh-wh-what you’re saying.” She mutters under her breath, but Komaru takes it in stride with a grin.

“That’s not a no!” It’s not a yes either, but Fukawa doesn’t humor her in further acknowledging the subject: it doesn’t really mater, because Komaru sees a hint of what might be called a smile in her gentle expression.

Yes, at least with one of your peers, you are sure you’ve grown a little closer with today ( and for today, that is a good enough start ).

#tokomaru week 2021 #tokomaru #toukomaru #komaru naegi #touko fukawa #toko fukawa #danganronpa #* zhi writes #listen!! i think thh protag komaru has potential and she deserves those rights

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