#the time just you know instead of sending hate to these people I block em and move on stuff I don’t like I block and I move on and then I

[scummy-writes]

Scum's Anon Tips

Hello 👋 I have been on tumblr for around 8-9 years and have seen this website change a lot! Nowadays, I notice old information circling around regarding anons, and I wanted to share some information I've experienced through my time here.

This is not meant to be mean spirited, it's just meant to be helpful since I am noticing a trend of anon hate in the circles I'm around. Please feel free to add any corrections that you know to be true, or any additionals.

1. Blocking an anon does not put the user who sent the message in your block list.

(Tested and verified)

I see this one spread a lot and, from what I believe, this is from Way Back on tumblr from around the time I joined. It's possible that this was never a thing, and people just said it was, or this was a glitch that happened eons ago. Who knows! This site is held together by sticks and gum, so shit happens.

What happens instead is that it blocks the anons IP address . This is verified here by the site themselves (under 'other considerations'). Before they implemented having to be logged in to send anons, this made dealing with anon hate a bit more difficult since dedicated folks could try to bypass the IP block.

2. Blocking one anon message, out of a group of them, then refreshing, can show you how many of those anons were sent by the same person/IP.

(Tested, verified with note)

This is something I would do when I would seemingly get a batch of anon messages from 'multiple' people in the last few years (and recently as of March/April-ish of 2023), only to block one and then refresh, and have all of the hateful messages suddenly gone from my inbox. It's a helpful way to help realize that no, 282973 people are not slamming in to get mad at your characterization in a fanfic, its usually just one dedicated asshole.

Side note: last time I tried this, I did have a notif for one of the anons in my notifications, but not actually in my inbox. It's possible that this may be buggy at times. In my experience, aside from that single instance, it's repeatedly gotten rid of other hateful anons in my inbox.

3. Blocking someone who you believe/know sent the anon message does nothing to the anon message in your inbox.

(Tested, verified)

Until recently, I thought that this would work! But as of 07/09/2023, I realized that this does nothing to any anons in your inbox. I had my roommate send me an anonymous message, then I blocked her account and refreshed my inbox multiple times: and it never touched the anon message. I think this is odd for tumblr to do, but it may line up with some sort of privacy protection they have.

So if you have any worries if someone sent an anon message, this is not a way to test it out.

4. (A Tip) If you find yourself getting a lot of anon hate...

Not a great answer, but one that is needed to be heard: Stop Answering Them. We've all been online long enough to hear the 'dont feed the trolls' mantra, but seriously. Answering the ask means you can no longer block Or report it. In point 2 I mentioned it's usually one dedicated asshole, but if it isn't, then you're just opening yourself to more anon attacks. If you Badly want to answer it- screenshot it, then answer that way, because at least you can still block and report the OG anon. I think this is even more important now that users have to be logged in to send anon messages. They can't play with IPs as much anymore with this feature, so it's more important than ever to block and report em now.

Reporting can be done on mobile and desktop version of the site, as well as blocking. Please, always utalize these. You're not a 'coward' or whatever for curating your online experience.

Additional Note:

When it comes to information spread about anons, a good rule of thumb is to ask yourself if it seems to be in line with any possible privacy issues with tumblr. The point of anonymous messages, good or bad, are to be anonymous. It does not make much sense for a site to allow you to easily see who sent the anon in that context. Especially when, on the official Help section of the site, they have confirmed that even staff supposedly doesn't know who sent said anon ask (It's under 'What About Anonymous Asks?'). So why would they have their site (alibet held together with sticks and gum) show you very easily who sent the anon?

On their side of things, I hope this is a little fixed now that we have to be logged in to send messages, so that they can take action on the accounts sending hateful shit.

-----

Please feel free to add onto this list, but I repeat, please add on with things you know to be true. Not stuff you heard through the grapevine, as there is so much misinformation on that vine, but things you yourself have experienced and have Worked. It'll be helpful to know if your tip is something from before the 'must be logged in' change or not as well!

[stories-of-the-multiverse]

((So. Remember this post when I gave a certain someone the benefit of the doubt?

Yeah, well, they tried to worm their way back via my fucking boyfriend now, so fuck any and all goodwill, I am sick of this shit.

So, screenshots and names now, fuck 'em!

Meet love-is-in-the-multiverse! The person that will not leave no matter how kindly you tell them to stop!

Sadly, I only have screenshots of the last time we talked and my boyfriend's screenshots. So I'll just have to summarize my experiences up till the final confrontation without screenies.

So, Love, formerly known as mollypico, was a FNF/Newgrounds RPer I met when they approached me for a starter. Since then they, they got very smothering, spamming my inbox with OOC convos that honestly overwhelmed me. I tried to give her other options, I really did. But in the end, she didn't take them. I changed the rules a bit to reflect this newfound boundary, and at first she seemed willing to respect it. But then turned around and continued because "She had no other options". So for the sake of my sanity, I blocked her.

Her response was to send a few friends after me asking why. And I tried to explain it to them as kindly as possible.

After that, they tried approaching me with new accounts passing themself off as someone else. The accounts were deleted by the time I looked in my notifs on my phone and saw them in the morning.

Eventually, she came to a new account and via messages apologized. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and accepted because she was finally keeping this stuff in IMs. And sometimes in those convos, she'd bring up fandoms and characters she played that were... suspiciously exactly the same as those other accounts that deleted.

It did not make her any less pushy and smothering, rushing me for starters, getting impatient with me not responding immediately. It all added up.

One day, I decided that people that killed my enjoyment here would get blocked. That included her. She tried to bypass this by making new accounts to talk to me. Twice. Once to act as if she wasn't one of the people I blocked. And the other to explain herself. I blocked those too.

Some time later, I was followed by two new accounts. One called "hate-in-the-multiverse" or something along those lines, and the other called afriendtoall. Who claimed she was an IRL friend of Love, and was the one that actually talked to me. Although Hate did send an ask, but not much else came of it.

Friend was frankly not all that different from her. It did not help matters when I started approaching a very stressful change that is still ongoing. And I started having suspicions.

Spoiler alert, I was right;

I then blocked her and soon after, I saw she deleted the account when I tried to block across all my blogs. I didn't screenshot it, but after this last message, she wished me well and said she'd leave me alone.

Cut to tonight! Picture this! I was in a call with a friend, having fun reading a graphic novel to them, and then I look to see a message from my boyfriend, and he sends these [censoring his name and icon for his safety]

So, after I tell her to leave me alone for good, she instead tries to worm her way into contact with my boyfriend and followed him again. And I am pissed.

He confronted her as soon as he saw.

"Oh mistew, I was just cuwious, uwu"

Yeah, nevermind you followed him. Knowing fully well that we interact a lot on Tumblr.

So yeah, fuck it, you win, you got my attention with your stupid game. Now here's your stupid prize.

RPers beware. Block her. If you RP FNF/NewGrounds, Danganronpa, My Hero Academia, I think Undertale/Deltarune, possibly any other game/anime/whatever, block. Her. Ass. On sight. Don't even give her a chance. Take it from me, she will drain you, and then make you feel horrible for feeling drained by her/not being in the mood to talk.

She's not worth it. Put yourselves first.

#OOC #Drama CW #Tumblr Drama CW #Negative CW #Callout Post CW #Callout CW #RPers Beware #Roleplayers Beware #You brought this on yourself Love

[decepti-thots]

I was in the tumblr tf fandom for a hot second a few years ago and i just wanted to ask, is it still really aggressive here? because back then there was a lot of shipping drama, there were a few callout posts going around (can't really remember about what) and just...a lot of bad stuff. I personally had someone tell me to kill myself because I liked one of the villains. guess I'm just wondering if, in your opinion, things have chilled out? Cuz I'd like to get back into it but I'm a little hesitant;;;

I'm going to try and give the fullest answer I can in the best faith to this! For context, this blog is a couple years old now, I have enough followers that I get a lot of active engagement on my posts etc, I am very active in TF fandom here, Twitter, and IRL, and while I did not used to be active I have been lurking in TF fandom as long as I have been on Tumblr.

There is absolutely still some toxicity; all fandoms have their bad faith actors, their drama hounds, their shipping Diskhorsers TM. I have gotten hate mail, I know folks who have issue with weird anon haters who are persistent, whatever. But no, it is not as bad as it has been in the past, IMO, not at ALL, and it is 100% possible to have an active, sociable and nice time in this fandom so long as you curate your engagement, with basically no drama at all. Many of the worst folks burned out and left when the fandom got less active and their shitstirring paid lesser and lesser dividends, IME.

People sometimes ask how I maintain such a vocal presence without falling into the still-there drama, and I have some advice that I promise you will mitigate like, 99% of the possible issues you could encounter:

Block whenever you feel like blocking. If you get a bad vibe, if you just don't personally like someone and don't wanna see them, if you see them throwing what looks like a temper tantrum you don't want in on, just block 'em. Remember: blocking is nothing personal towards the person you are blocking. It is not insulting and doesn't need to be 'earned'. Block every single person you think not blocking might even just theoretically cause stress or drama. (I am blocked by several people for reasons no more serious than 'I hate your OTP', and I commend every one of them for doing it and having a better time on this site!)

Delete any and all anon hate. Block anyone and everyone who sends you hate. No exceptions. No witty comebacks. No takedowns. Nothing. You see it and the actual literal second you do, you block and delete. None of it is worth one second of your time. Deprived of the oxygen, they will leave. And you won't be tempted to re-read it and stress out.

In that same vein, if it causes issues, just turn anon off! Turn it off. Personally I keep it on because I simply do not care about the odd troll, but if you care even slightly? Fuck 'em, turn it off, anon is a privilege your followers need to earn by acting in good faith.

Find people you like and follow them, ignore blatant shitstirring in the maintags (again: block people!) and try to curate content and follows and mutuals based on what you do like and not what you don't. Curate positive engagement; do not rely on the general fandom slurry, find what you like and hang out in your own corner of things that bring you joy. If the maintag stresses you out: don't check it. Check the blogs of folks you know are cool instead. Stuff like that.

Fandom should be fun. Fandom should be finding people you like and sharing good times with them, not stressing about avoiding folks you hate, or who hate you. Tumblr lets you moderate how you engage, when, and where more than almost any current social media site; now you can even turn off reblogs and oh my GOD is that a lifesaver function btw. If you want, you can make your blog unsearchable! It means you will need to be more proactive in making friends. But TF fandom is pretty tight knit these days, and folks want to talk a lot of the time. You'll still be able to engage with cool people.

There's way less aggro losers around these days, but more to the point, you can absolutely avoid the ones that still insist on being annoying and starve them out without much effort, tbh.

[itsnotgray]

Sending people anonymous hate (part 1/2 of my angry rants)

TW: mentions of telling someone to "kys"

I understand not liking someone. That is something natural to do. Someone does something you don't like? Then now you don't like them because of their actions- simple. If their actions are that severe, and if enough damage is done, you may even go as far as to say you hate said person. 

BUT WHAT IN THE FUCKING WORLD WARRANTS TELLING SOMEONE TO KILL THEMSELVES?

There is only one person in this world that I proclaim that I hate, and yet there is not a bone in my body that would ever dare tell someone that. 

So WHERE IN THE ACTUAL FUCK do anons get their audacity- where do they get the obvious hate that you have to hold in your heart to tell someone to do such a thing. 

A comment like that seems like it would be something personal, yeah? That's a comment that bursts out in a brief episode of anger, not something you should be able to send someone off the cuff. 

But anons do. They prove me wrong every fucking time they send it to someone, because clearly you dont really have a problem with whoever you’re sending such a disgusting message to- because if that was the case most people would take the rational route of actually talking to someone, confronting them with the problem, instead of simply hiding their identity behind anon and telling them to kill themseleves.

No, a comment like that shows that you have a problem- that you, the anons, are the problem. Because most of the people that get these cruel, sick messages haven’t really done anything to you, at least not personally. But in your heads some incorrect wires are crossed that make you guys think it's okay to take your anger out on people that usually haven't done shit to you. 

And on the occasion that they have done something personally to you? Now you’re just being plain out mean and petty. Where you could take the easy route of simply messaging someone when you have a problem, you take to anon to show your anger. 

My message to all of you- if someone really pisses you off enough that they seem to warrant such a wicked message,

BLOCK EM, BLOCK EM, BLOCK EM

And in case you didn't understand that the first time-

BLOCK THEM

Simple as that. Clicking that little button resolves whatever problem you had previously, and prevents the problems that would arise at you sending such a hateful fucking message.

And coming from someone who was once in a place where a comment like that would’ve sent me over the edge (I didn’t need any help with that- I still tried)(Sorry I cope with humor), comments like that could quite literally set someone off. Anytime I see people say this, no one seems to take it seriously. But when you’re in a headspace like that, and you get a message like that isn't “Oh someones being mean”, no, its usually “Oh good- someone agrees.”

Start thinking about what you say to people. You don’t know them, their situation, or what's going on in their life. Some may brush a comment like that off, but some may take it seriously. 

Kindness doesn't cost a damn thing. 

#gray talks #kindness costs nothing #gray's angry rants

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Hi Em✨

I absolutely love your writing and your posts and I’ve been following you for a while now💕

I’m not sure about you but I feel quite uneasy/conflicted with the current rhetoric on book tok. I understand people not liking certain books but it’s been hard to see people slander books and the people that like those books/characters/stories,etc. I get that criticism is needed for certain themes or values that appear in books but reading is loosing some of its escapism for me:(

Reading in context (fictionally and in the real world) is always needed but sometimes I just like a book because of the characters or it’s story and not necessarily that it checks all the boxes for being perfect.

Tbh, as much as I love certain books, some of them have become tainted for me and I genuinely wish I didn’t I read other people’s opinions on them.

Book tok is great for reccs but I can’t even filter it out of my feed at this point. I kinda wish toxic fandoms also looked inwardly because as much fun it is to engage with fans and people that are apart of that fandom, some people take it way too far such as sending hateful anons to creators (such as you🥺) or calling books trash when they’ve been super influential or important to people.

I guess my little rant is over but I was wondering if you had any opinions on this or have any sort of guidance. Is there a place I could get reccs or how can avoid all of this rhetoric that can affect my view of a book.”?

Stay safe and have a good day✨💐

hi there, nonnie! thank you so much for the kind words, i really appreciate you 🥺❤️❤️

first off, i want to say that i 100% understand this. i never really got into booktok specifically because i had a feeling it was basically going to be book twitter 2.0 where everyone is just ripping into each other constantly. i don't like being influenced by other people's opinions either, and the drama that seems to be obligatory baggage for most fandoms these days (with the exception of TFOTA, cos for some reason we are extraordinarily chill) just isn't for me.

it is, of course, essential that we continue to think critically when it comes to media. it's the only way we can affect change in a positive direction. but this also must be balanced with a willingness to be humble with our opinions, understand that they are just opinions, and accept that everyone consumes media for different reasons.

this also means we'll all hold different boundaries about what we're willing to consume, and where we draw the line for things we won't consume. granted, books might be the mirror through which we see life reflected, but they are not reality itself. to a certain extent, fiction is fiction. and different boundaries does not a bad person make.

speaking of drawing lines, i'm going to direct you to this post by @bookofmirth , which is mainly about ACOTAR/SJM/Palestine but some of what they have to say there is very applicable to this topic, and eloquently put:

"Some people can separate art from artist. Some can't. It's up to all of us as individuals to draw that line where we are comfortable."

i agree with this statement wholeheartedly. it is not up to randomgal4549 on tiktok/twitter to decide what eye should or should not read. the unmitigated gall of anyone to think their opinion should dictate other people's choices is highly presumptuous and quite frankly exhausting.

apart from maybe the bible/other religious texts, what a person reads is not a reflection of who they are or what beliefs they hold. we need to learn not to conflate the two, and start regarding each other once more as humans with complex thoughts and feelings, capable of introspection and growth, instead of little icons on our phone screens with immovable and absolute beliefs.

so that's my opinion on that. my main advice to you would be KEEP THINGS ORGANISED. what i mean by that is this:

curate your social media experience! it is YOUR responsibility as an owner of any social media account (including tumblr) to customise your space to fit YOUR needs. if you don't like someone's opinion/content? unfollow. if someone is rude/you don't like their vibe? block. if you find the things someone shares to their socials offensive? unfriend. this is setting boundaries, and the people who take any of these things as a personal offence are the exact people you want to keep a healthy distance away from. you decide who you follow and what you see on your dash. be protective of your space and who you allow to have access to your energy.

keep personal feelings separate from the public! i honestly can't stress this point enough. if you feel the need to rant about something that irks you about a specific book/author/person's opinion, keep these discussions in the DMs with a trusted circle of friends. it is psychologically proven that when someone feels attacked, they will double down on their og opinion, no matter if they realise they're wrong. thus, projecting high-strung emotions into public spaces such as twitter, while understandable in some cases, will only serve to further polarise people and hurt the very movement you're likely trying to bolster. blow off steam with people you can entrust with your emotions. NOT strangers on the internet.

designate time to learning about issues that are important to you! i strongly advise against turning to any fictional medium for moral lessons or life advice. if you can dedicate some time outside of your escapism to inform yourself about important subjects through educational resources that are specifically designed to Teach/Impart Knowledge, instead of giving an ounce of thought to Intrinsically Biased Information Received Second Hand, i promise you you'll feel a whole lot less obligated to other people's opinions.

if you're unsure about a particular book/author, consider borrowing from your local library, purchasing the book second hand, or finding an ePub copy.

for recs, consider booktube. i know it's probably seen as a bit old school by now, but the great thing about youtube is that you're not randomly/unexpectedly subjected to other people's shit opinions like on other social platforms. you have to click a link to watch the video, which gives you more autonomy in regards to what opinions you consume. my personal favourite youtuber is Khadija Mbowe. she's not a booktuber, per se, but her content focuses on in-depth critical analysis of media/society through the lense of WOC (specifically Black women), and i find her channel compelling as well as informative.

goodreads is also a great place to find book recs without the constant influx of opinions. if you can find yourself a circle of trusted friends to follow on there, you can't go wrong. my goodreads is linked in my bio under "connect" and you're welcome to follow me there. or not! it's your choice.

–Em 🖤🗡

#this is incredibly long i'm so sorry 🙈 #on mobile so i can't add a cut #discoursey #like i realise it's probably gotten worse recently with the pandemic and more screen time #but i honestly wouldn't touch most fandoms with a 12 foot pole #it's too messy for me #of course i still read and enjoy books that have fandoms. i just don't get involved #TFOTA is my one exception and even we have our days lmao #you have to do what's healthy for you. and if that means leaving tiktok/twitter altogether? DO IT. you won't regret it i promise #i quit twitter facebook and instagram in 2018 and it's the best decision i ever made #i love you nonnie i hope this helped 🥺❤️ #thanks for the ask!! 💜 #asked and answered #em answers #nonnie #long post

[holycafe]

Preview for Just Friends ch23

Hey @legendarilymessedup you said you were after something to cheer you up, so I hope this helps <3 and I hope your night gets better.

And for anyone who hasn’t read the first 22 chapters and wants to give it a go, you can find the fic here on AO3. It’s a fake-dating slowburn fic where Barry doesn’t realise he’s actually in a fake relationship. Lots of shenanigans.

.

Len felt like he was dreaming.

He had Barry in his arms; finally, after hours of worrying, Barry was safe. That alone would have been enough to make him smile. Even if Barry had shot Len down, broke off their real-fake-relationship, and crushed Len’s heart, he still would have been happy to get Barry back home to his team, safe and sound.

But none of that happened.

Instead…

Instead, Barry loved him.

Those three words swam around and around in Len’s head, playing on repeat and blocking out everything else.

Barry was kissing him, and Barry loved him.

“–Err… Snart?–” Iris’ voice said through the comms in his ear, and Len groaned in annoyance as he broke the kiss. “–Hate to break up the party, but I can’t keep Eddie hanging around outside forever–” Barry looked confused – and extremely cute, even covered in mud as he was and sporting a serious split lip and bruised jaw – by Len suddenly pulling away. So, Leonard shook his head, pressing a reassuring kiss to Barry’s cheek and gesturing towards the earpiece. Cisco’s comms unit was about as covert as they came, so Len knew Barry couldn’t see it. But he understood anyway, nodding and taking a step back out of Len’s arms.

For a moment, Len began to panic that the kid was going to freak out again. Kissing Len in front of the Rogues was one thing, but doing it while Team Flash was listening in was an altogether different matter. It didn’t make a difference to Len, of course… but it surely would to the Scarlet Speedster.

Len tensed, preparing himself as he expected Barry to pull away and leave again…

But Barry just stooped down to the floor and picked Len’s cane up. When he stood back up again to pass it over, he was smiling; his green eyes shining happily beneath the mud, and blood, and bruises covering his delicate skin.

Len kissed him once more, grinning while Barry laughed against his lips.

“Get a room, would you?” Scudder muttered, having roused again after the fight. Rosa had been awake for a while, sullenly silent. However, Len was only paying them the bare minimum of attention, trusting Lisa and Mick to keep their enemies under control. Which was exactly what Lisa did, kicking Sam sharply in the shin until he grunted and shut up.

“–Seriously, Snart!–” Iris said, impatient. “–Eddie doesn’t know about the two of you, and I don’t think Barry would want him to find out by him just accidentally walking in on you guys mid-make out–”

Len groaned again and pulled away from Barry once more.

“Fine,” he drawled, his fingers brushing against Barry’s as he finally accepted the offered cane. “Send Eddie in.” Barry straightened up a little bit at the drop of the detective’s name, looking a little nervous. He cast a look over his shoulder and then seemed to altogether freeze.

Len attempted to follow Barry’s line of sight, trying to figure out what was wrong before it could bite them in the ass… but there appeared to be nothing there. The area of the room that Barry was running his eyes over was completely empty.

But then, that was apparently the problem.

“Where’s Shawna?” Barry asked, sounding worried enough that it made the hairs on the back of Len’s neck rise.

Mick shrugged before grunting out an answer. “She and Mardon poofed out of here while you ‘n’ Snart were playing tonsil hockey.” He paused for only a moment before grumpily adding: “Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

“Oh, crap,” Barry muttered quietly under his breath. Len wanted to ask what was wrong, wanted to raise his hand to cup Barry’s face and force him to make eye contact again, wanted to hold him and assure him that – whatever it was – they could get through it. Together.

But then Eddie Thawne entered the room, cautiously with his gun drawn but not aimed. Len waited and watched as the detective gave Barry a smile and a pat on the shoulder – his hand coming away covered in mud from Barry’s clothes, making Len look down at himself, realising that he too was coated in the stuff now. He supposed he could come up with something to explain that away though if he needed to.

Eddie moved to arrest Barry’s kidnappers, keeping a cautious birth from Mick who was still non-too-happy to be working with a pig… not that Len blamed him. And while the detective’s back was turned, Len quickly holstered his cold gun and used his now-spare hand to lead Barry out of the room.

Or maybe ‘to be led by Barry out of the room’ would be a more accurate description. Because, although Len gave the first subtle nudge towards the door, it was Barry who ended up offering Len a shoulder to – literally – lean on as they walked. Because now that the adrenaline of the fight was wearing down, his injured thigh was beginning to burn with a white-hot fury again from overuse. Len gritted his teeth as he limped away from the scene, putting far too much weight on his cane, and possibly squeezing just a little too harshly on Barry’s shoulder. And, Christ, Len wished that he could focus on that. He wished that he could lose himself in the moment and revel in the closeness of Barry’s body and the intimacy that they were finally sharing after all these months of being so completely oblivious to their feelings for one another.

But the look in Barry’s eye and the worried set to his bruised and bloodied lips reminded Len that nothing was ever that simple. Not for him.

Once they were outside in the fresh air, Barry took a deep breath and sighed up at the grey clouds above while Len took the comms piece out of his ear, wanting some privacy.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and Barry’s shoulders drooped as he turned to face Leonard.

“Shawna nearly got shot,” Barry explained, and Len nodded. He’d seen Sam fire the gun at her, but he’d also seen her get out of the way as the bullet drove straight into the wall behind them. He didn’t understand what was wrong here, but Barry’s anxiety only seemed to have grown. “I had to use my powers to save her.”

Ah.

‘Oh, crap’ was right.

“I’ll talk to her,” Barry quickly reassured him, and Len nodded. He was going to offer his company, but he could already see the answer to that question in Barry’s eyes. This was something that he felt like he needed to do alone, and Len could understand that. He knew that he wasn’t the most welcoming of people; he was often cold, and people could find it difficult to talk freely while he was around. Barry would have a much easier time talking to Shawna and Mark if Len wasn’t there.

Len could understand that, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Wear something Cisco can track,” he said. After all, Len had only just got Barry back, he didn’t want to lose him again. Not now. Not ever.

Barry smiled and nodded and looked like he was about to go in for another kiss. But then the door behind them opened again. Barry just about managed to stop himself before it was too late as Eddie Thawne walked out, leading the now-handcuffed Rosa Dillon and Sam Scudder towards his police cruiser. Len tensed his jaw in annoyance, wishing that they could just stop getting interrupted already.

“You’re pouting,” Barry laughed, and Len mustered up a glare. But they both knew there was no real ice behind it.

Barry’s grin softened around the edges as they stared into each other’s eyes. He still looked as though he wanted to lean in for a kiss. But, instead, he reached out and casually adjusted the hood on Len’s parka, his fingertips brushing softly against the skin on Len’s bare neck.

“I have so much I need to tell you,” he said, his voice so soft-spoken and yet so raw. Len yearned to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand, to kiss his cheek. But he couldn’t. They were already pushing their luck here with the gentle way that Barry was fixing his coat, and Len knew that anything more would surely give away their game to Detective Thawne.

This wasn’t exactly the first time that Len had needed to resist the urge to touch Barry. Yet, somehow, the weight of their physical separation felt heavier now that he knew Barry loved him back. Now that he knew the desire to hold and be held was mutual.

Len stared across into Barry’s beautiful green eyes, marvelling at how gorgeous he was. Even coated in mud – which Len would really need to get the story behind later – and bruises and his slowly-healing split lip… he was beautiful. Len wondered how he’d ever got so lucky as for Barry Allen to fall in love with him. And it was lucky. No matter how much heartbreak Len had felt this past few days, it was all worth it to just be able to look into Barry’s eyes and have him look back as though Len was his whole world.

Barry bit nervously against his bottom lip and then winced as the movement reminded him of the cut that he was still sporting there. Len raised his hand instantly to Barry’s face wanting to soothe his discomfort away. But he had to stop himself before he could cup Barry’s jaw and run his thumb along Barry’s lip. His hand uselessly hovered there for a moment, inches away from Barry’s face, before Len balled it back into a soft fist and dropped to his side once more.

“Oh, fuck it,” Barry breathed out, Len’s only warning before he stepped forward that last few inches and collided their mouths together again. Barry was holding on tighter to the fur of Len’s parka now, using it to pull Len forward even though there was no more ‘forward’ for Len to go.

Len wrapped his arm around Barry’s waist and buried his fingers into the back of his shirt, not even caring that the thick layer of mud there was still very much damp. Len couldn’t care less that he was getting covered in mud, not so long as Barry was the one behind it. Barry’s tongue skirted against Len’s, pushing and taking and driving him insane. Len chased the kiss, holding on for as long as he possibly could.

But eventually, they both had to come back up for air. And when that moment came, Len closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together, and did everything he possibly could to pretend that they were alone.

Another moment passed before Barry pulled away from Len’s touch and turned to face the music. Len followed Barry’s gaze, and their movement was enough to catch Detective Thawne’s attention. He had been leaning against the hood of his police cruiser, appearing as though he was doing his best not to pry on Barry’s moment with Len while he attempted to get a meaningful conversation out of Mick. Len didn’t have to imagine how that endeavour was going.

But now that Barry and Len had pulled apart again, Thawne stood up straight and gave Barry a reassuring smile.

Barry was definitely relieved to see Eddie wasn’t looking overtly angry or uncomfortable about their latest act of PDA. And Barry’s happiness made Len happy in return. Barry looked back up to Len and smiled nervously.

“Could I borrow your bike?” he asked. “I really don’t think I should wait much longer before I track down Shawna, but I can’t exactly go running off right now.”

“You can, actually,” Len corrected. “Mick and Lisa already know you’re the Flash.” Expectedly, Barry frowned at that, so Len shrugged. “Ask Cisco about it.” Because Len couldn’t have answered any questions about it if he’d wanted to. He was still very muggy on those particular details.

“Oh, okay,” Barry nodded, taking the revelation in stride. “I… uh… I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, sounding hopeful in a way that made Len’s stomach do little happy flips.

“I hope so.”

Barry nodded again, looking as though he was going to step away. But at the last second, he leant back in and pressed a sweet kiss on Len’s cheek. Then Barry backed up, heading towards the where the bikes were parked. The second that he was out of sight of the police cruiser and the criminals handcuffed inside, he slipped into superspeed and ran away.

#i don't think many of my coldflash readers still follow me #so this probably only to get like 2 notes i guess #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #dc #len x barry

[thevioletjones]

Congrats on the kudos, u deserve it! I did not undestand if I'm supposed to choose one of the lines for the prompt or if I have to combine two or more lines lol. But if it is to choose only one: number 5. If more than one: 5 and 45. *---*

Thank you! I used both. Great inspiration, actually. It spun out of control! 😀

Prompt 2: “How much of that did you hear?” + “Why are you helping me?”

Interloper

“Jesus, Iggy, I’m gonna fuckin’ murder you myself one of these days,” Mickey threatened in exasperation.

They were both leaning over, hands on knees, gasping for air, just having run full-speed for at least twelve blocks. The pillars beneath the L tracks were now providing the mild seclusion they needed to wait out a cursory police search of the area.

“Ain’t my fault!” Iggy exclaimed defensively.

Mickey’s face scrunched up to a degree that only his dumbest family members could make it reach. “Yes it fuckin’ was! Who else’s fault would it be?”

He’d always kind of wondered how he was the only one in his crap-ass family to be gifted with at least half a brain. Well, him and his younger sister, Mandy. She was alright. Skanky and crazy, but not a total idiot. He couldn’t say the same for his brothers, male cousins, father, uncle, etcetera. Mickey couldn’t even get his begrudgingly favorite brother to follow a simple goddamn plan that would’ve kept them out of trouble when they were out committing crimes. He was just gonna have to start doing everything himself. Safety in numbers didn’t apply when the other member of your team seemed to have been lobotomized when no one was paying attention. It was probably all the meth. Mickey was smart enough to stay away from that particular bullshit. Didn’t want to become a scabby, denture-wearing, toothpick skinny, low-life with no mind left to lose. He was content to stick to coke and weed like a normal person.

“That old bitch came outta nowhere! Self-defense!”

“It ain’t self-defense if you’re robbin’ the joint, numbnuts! We’re lucky you fuckin’ missed!”

If he had it his way, Mickey wouldn’t be doing these petty robberies anymore. He much preferred bigger jobs, like gun and drug running. But times were tough, and he had to do what he had to do. He’d even considered getting a legit job for once in his life, but the skills he possessed weren’t exactly easily adaptable to the straight and narrow path. Being a criminal was how he was raised, and all he knew. It brought heat, but it was still a comfortable fit. Living without the constant presence of major risk would probably feel so foreign as to drive him crazier than a meth addiction in the long run.

The job Mickey’d lined up involved hitting up a few different borderline upmarket stores that’d opened up in their neck of the woods since the gentrifiers had set upon The Yards, then selling the goods to a guy he knew in the online black market trade. Not as lucrative as heavy metal and funny powder, but a decent payday nonetheless. Except fuckface over here who had to ruin everything by getting trigger-happy on Main while they were attempting to heist merchandise from location number two of three. If the pigs nabbed either one of them, they’d be going down for at least five to ten. Years. Mickey was done donating years to the prison industrial complex. The most he could afford was months at best.

“When’d you turn into such a giant asshole?” asked Iggy. “Oh, nevermind, probly when you started gettin’ it railed on the reg.”

A giant smile stretched across his perpetually dirty face, causing Mickey’s eyebrows to lift dangerously high on his forehead. Occasionally, his dumber-than-rocks older brother managed to think up some admittedly clever asides. Mickey didn’t know whether to punch him or give him daps.

Before he could decide, however, he heard a distinct little snicker from the other side of the large concrete column they were leaning on, raising his hackles to invisibly join his eyebrows in their heightened incredulity.

Mickey hastily rounded the pillar and grabbed the giggler by the shirt collar, hauling him to their side and pinning him next to Iggy with his forearm. He looked into the guy’s eyes, and finally registered who it was. He kinda sorta knew him from around town. Used to hang out with his sister back in high school. He was a lot scrawnier then. This version of the dude could probably hold his own with Mickey in a fight. He’d built some definite muscle.

“How much of that did you hear, asshole?” Mickey demanded, seeing Iggy flash the gun in his waistband in his periphery.

This idiot didn’t look as rattled as he should be, though. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Considering I was here first, I guess… all of it?”

He was wearing an annoying little smirk, his green-blue eyes shining bright, and his red hair distracting Mickey as much as the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He had a stupidly ultra-defined chin, and Mickey immediately hated it. His chin hadn’t looked like that when he was a 15-year-old pipsqueak.

“Wipe that smile off your face, bitch,” ordered Mickey, pressing his arm harder against the guy’s pale throat. “You think this is fuckin’ funny? You know who we are?”

The guy shrugged again, like this was all a casual conversation on the corner. “Mickey.” He glanced at his dumb, blonde, curlicue brother. “And Iggy, right? I used to hang out with Mandy all the time. Have a good memory.”

“Yeah? Well I remember your goofy ass too, Gallagher. I know where you live and I know who your family is, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your big mouth shut or I’ll pick ‘em off one by one and save you for last. Got it?”

The dude snorted, and Mickey wondered if he was some kind of crazy tweaker with no sense of propriety or self-preservation.

“You outta your goddamn mind or somethin’?” Mickey added. “I ain’t jokin’.”

“Look, Gallaghers don’t snitch, alright?” He held his hands up placatingly. “I promise not to say shit to anyone. It’s none of my business, and I really don’t care. That good enough for you?”

Mickey loosened his hold, but sized him up all the while. “Maybe. But it’s possible you need a little lesson to remember it good. Wouldn't want you to forget about the consequences of you breakin’ your word.”

The dude winced and shoved Mickey off. “I don’t need a fucking beatdown, Mickey. I get it.”

“Ohhhh,” Mickey singsonged derisively, meeting Iggy’s gaze. “He gets it.” He thumbed his eyebrow. “Guess I’m just s’posed to believe you, huh?”

“That would be ideal, yeah.”

Mickey had to give it to him; he almost cracked a smile. The kid had balls. Most people around their neighborhood cowered before a Milkovich like spring lambs. Still, he lived by a code, and letting some rando walk away unscathed when he had dirt on him just didn’t fit the rules.

He cocked his fist back to knock it into tall, pale, and red’s pearly white teeth, just as the stunted siren of a cop car rang out very close by. Their collective heads all snapped toward the sound, and after sharing a meaningful look between brothers, Iggy took off running once again, without a word.

Normally, Mickey would’ve followed hot on his heels, but some unknown force was keeping his useless feet stuck to the dirty ground, eyes watching as Gingerballs glanced around the column at the flashing lights, taking a very long look that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Before he could react outwardly, Mickey was pulled against a hard body, Gallagher’s warm breath sending a shiver down his spine as he whispered, “Be cool. I got you.”

Suddenly, big hands were caressing Mickey’s back, and despite a part of him not minding in the least, the rest of him stiffened considerably.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped out, hearing the telltale slam of a car door, and attempting to pull away. But a strong grip held him close, spinning him around so that he was the one up against the concrete now.

“Saving your thug ass. I know this guy, okay? Just chill and follow my lead.”

Okay, what the hell was this surreal turn of events? Gallagher was bold as shit, cradling Mickey all gay like. Sure, Iggy had made a fag joke earlier, kicking off this whole… whatever it was, but still. This guy had no way of knowing it was based in reality. Did he?

And had Gallagher really been gay this whole time? How had Mickey never sniffed this scorching information out?

“What’s going on here, boys?”

The copper rounded the corner, genuinely swinging his nightstick like a cartoon character, and Mickey had to suppress a deep roll of his eyes.

“Milkovich?” Mr. CPD continued, extreme disbelief coloring his voice.

Mickey was abruptly reminded that he was currently stuck between a rock and a hard body, and nothing about their entanglement screamed anything other than gay, gay, super-fucking-gay. Not that Mickey hadn’t come to accept who he was and what he liked, but he didn’t go around spreading the truth all over town either. This could seriously damage his carefully crafted reputation.

“Tony!” Ian interjected, sparing him from having to invent some lame excuse, and the cop’s eyes snapped to him instead.

“Ian?” His tone was still dripping with astonishment.

“Yeah! What's up? How you been?”

Mickey shot him an ‘are you goddamn serious right now?’ look, and Ian just squeezed his hip in tacit reply.

“Uhhh… gooood? Care to explain whatever…” he waved his stick between them, “this is?”

Ian laughed and he figured the dude truly was a nutcase. Mickey was going to jail for sure.

“Um, well,” answered Ian, suddenly playing it very meek and demure, “Mickey and I were just… you know…”

“You and… Mickey?”

“Not fucking or anything! Just... hanging out?”

“Hanging out.”

“Yeah, you know how it is. I’m tryin’ to convince Mick here to come home with me, but he’s being squirrelly.” He shook his head and shrugged. “South Side guys.”

“What the fuck?” Mickey whispered harshly, completely taken aback.

Ian just squeezed him tightly again, which was not helping his whole brain scramble situation.

“Huh,” said Tony, a tone of acceptance seeping in. “Mickey Milkovich, eh? Wow.”

“Come on, Tony. I don’t have to tell you this is all a big secret, do I?” replied Ian.

“And blondie who ran away like there was a damn fire? Did he flee a threesome?”

Mickey frowned and fake-wretched, finally speaking up. “Fuck no, man. That was my dumbass brother. He don’t like cops.”

“Uh huh. And you and your brother didn’t happen to be getting into trouble about 15 minutes ago, did you?”

“No sir,” Mickey said with a mock salute.

Ian kicked at his foot in warning.

“He’s been with me since like 3 o’clock, Tone. Scout’s honor.”

Officer Tony eyed them both with a look of skepticism, but didn’t contradict Ian’s word. The CB sounded from the open window of the black and white, with some cop-speak crackling over the airwaves.

“Stay put,” said Tony, eyes lingering longer on Mickey’s than Ian’s. “Both of you.”

He retreated to answer the radio call, and Mickey let out a deep whoosh of air.

“Goddamn, Gallagher. You’re spinnin’ quite a yarn here.”

“Yep,” Ian agreed. “A big gay yarn.”

“How the fuck did you know—”

“That you’re gay? Well, I heard Iggy make that joke, obviously. Pretty specific bottom joke to make if you weren’t actually into it. Plus, I always had my suspicions.”

Mickey scoffed. “Yeah fuckin’ right!”

“I did!”

“Whatever. Why are you helping me?”

“Out of the kindness of my heart?”

“Try again.”

“I don’t know. Why not? Makes us even or something. Now you know I won’t rat you out. About any of it. I wouldn’t out someone like that, and I don’t give a shit about the illegal crap you’re wrapped up in. Tony Markovich is like turbo gay too. Used to bang my sister, I think, but he came out a couple years ago. He won’t let it slip about you. He’s not a total bastard just cuz he’s a cop, ya know?”

Mickey bit his lip in contemplation. Gallagher seemed pretty genuine. Still didn’t much make sense in his brain, but whatever.

“Fine. But you know what’s gonna happen if—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, kick my ass, kill my family, got it.”

“You’re a cocky little shit, ain’t you?”

Ian smirked again, and it was pretty sexy, actually. “Maybe.”

He had the gall to push against Mickey more fully, pressing the bottom halves of their bodies closer together.

Mickey gasped. “Gonna have to ask you again… what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“You wanna go out sometime?”

Mickey cackled in his face. “You’re off your fuckin’ rocker for sure.”

“Am not! I can tell you want me.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Cocky little shit doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?”

“Come onnnn,” Ian prodded.

“Do I look like I date, Gallagher?”

“A date can be whatever we want it to be, Milkovich. I’m easy.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

“Okay,” Tony interrupted, coming back into view. “Get the hell outta here. You wanna bang, do it indoors somewhere, or I’ll have to arrest you for public indecency or worse. And Milkovich… if I find any evidence of what I’m sure you know I’m talking about, I’ll be paying your ass a visit real soon.”

Mickey let the eyeroll loose then, withholding a flip of his middle finger, and deadpanning instead, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, officer.”

Tony sighed loudly. “Whatever.”

“Thanks, Tony!” Ian cried at his retreating back.

“You always kiss cop ass like that? Cuz that’s not the way to get into my pants, Red.”

Ian just grinned, finally pulling his body away as he looked around. “You gonna follow me home or what?”

Mickey wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and swagger away like a badass. But was he not a thirsty man being propositioned by a hot guy who just randomly saved his ass from a trip to the slammer?

He at least feigned protest, huffing and puffing as he kicked at the dirt. “Goddamn it, Gallagher, you drive a hard bargain.”

Ian’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, as Mickey added, “Lead the way, weirdo.”

#ian x mickey #fanfic #gallavich #fanfiction #asks #answers

[luca-moreno]

void

Luca word vomit idk

--

“You’re so fucking weird, Moreno,” one of the squad laughs as they haul on their packs.  

Earth isn’t at all what he expected.

Bootcamp isn’t either.

The hills in the distance look far away and the day is already hot. Luca feels sweat beading on the back of his neck, runs a hand over his freshly buzzed hair. He used to be so pale, now his skin turns darker shades he never realized could belong to him. He hates this harsh sun, the way its rays bite into his skin like tiny needles. It’s burning him, he thinks. He’ll wake up tomorrow red and sore. How did humans survive this long, on a planet trying to kill them daily?

He flashes the others a tight grin and a shrug and tries not to show on his face how the words bother him. “Yeah, I know.”

--

The wards weren’t friendly but neither was Earth or the Alliance.

But Luca puts his head down and he works. He runs the tracks, he climbs the walls, he shoots and swears and rolls and he keeps his head down and he’s just another inductee that his barely sixteen sol years flies under the radar to their eighteen. He’s baby faced and green and alone.

Nobody notices.

--

Wide hands gripped his shoulders and a smile flashed. “It’s not that long, Luca. You just gotta survive two more years. You can do it, I know you can.”

It was hard to hear over the din of the departure lounge. Luca’s throat grew tight as something akin to panic crawled its way up his throat. “I don’t... I know if I can. Not without you.”

Kiosho grins, mismatched eyes under a messy mop of blue trimmed hair. “Sure you can. Just don’t let them give you any shit. And Luca… even if you don’t feel it, bluff. They can’t tell the fucking difference anyway.”

--

He didn’t make the two years. He barely made it to one.

Code skittered across the screen of the terminal. His heart thumped so hard he could feel it in his ears. He cracked the firewalls like they’re nothing, swooped in and manifested a whole new reality and hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

It was… and it wasn’t and it still didn’t get him what he wanted.

--

The other boy notices Luca long before Luca notices him.

And why would he? He was just another tenderfoot, another one of the crowd, another pair of boots falling into line and pounding the pavement, another body in the mess hall trying to dig their way through the slop that’s considered to be their meals. Luca listens with half an ear as the gaggle of recruits around him bitch and moan about the food, picking at it unhappily but Luca remembers what it’s like to be hungry. He never protests.

The boy slides into the seat opposite him but Luca doesn’t look up.

“It’s your accent, you know,” the other boy tells him conversationally.

It takes a long moment before Luca realizes he’s talking to him. He looks up. “What?”

“Your accent. You probably don’t even realize it, but you do this weird little burr thing with all your words. Like drell and turians do.”

Luca lowers his fork slowly. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to say it now. “I didn’t grow up here.”

“I know,” the other boy smiles. He has blonde hair, and eyes the colour of earth’s skies when they’re running drills in the daylight. “Neither did I.”

It’s hardly unusual, lots of the recruits where from all over the terminus systems, most shuttled back to Earth for training. Luca holds himself short of leaning into a kindred spirit, if that’s what he even was. He takes a closer look at the boy in front of him - pale skin, long fingers, lean limbed.

His mouth clocks it before his mind does. “Spacer.”

“Yep. I’m Saxon, by the way.”

“Um. I’m… I’m Luca.”

Saxon picks something off his tray and eyes it critically. He glances around before he shrugs and pops it into his mouth. “Sure beats keleven nutripaste, huh?”

Some of the tension around his shoulders seems to ease. “Yeah, it does.”

--

There’s a lot Luca finds he likes about Saxon, and some he doesn’t.

But mostly it’s how he doesn’t feel so… alien… when he’s with him.

Music croons in the background, some old earth song Saxon had dug up from the archives and Luca strums along on the battered guitar he’d scraped all his meagre credits together to buy. Smoke curls around them, a dusty tobacco that makes Luca’s nose itch and his limbs feel weak. Don't you want to be free? Do you like girls or boys?

“So, do you?” Saxon asks one night, slowly taking the guitar out of his hands. The clouds are rolling in, Luca can taste something in the air that leaves him shivering. The rooftop is his sanctuary.

“Uh, do I what?”

Saxon looms closer. “Do you like boys or girls, Luca?”

Luca’s skin prickles in awareness. In heat. “Boys,” he whispers.

Saxon’s teeth flash in the darkness, and he pulls Luca in.

--

Luca wakes up alone, head throbbing and thick with something that was once sweet now turned bitter. His body aches, sore in places that he didn’t want to acknowledge and marked with splotches that make him double take when he sees his refection in the mirror.

He runs a hand over the marks and smiles to himself.

The smile doesn’t last.

“Saxon, wait up!”

The gaggle of recruits don’t stop but Luca only focuses on one blonde head. He jogs to catch up, still calling out. “Saxon!”

Finally they stop and Luca can feel their eyes on him. “Uh. Wait, so. I just wanted to-“

“Hey, it’s the duct rat,” one of the men laugh. Barely a man, but solid enough to pass. “That’s what they call ‘em, isn’t it?”

Luca’s gaze swings to Saxon, willing him to look at him. He doesn’t.

“Sax-“

“Give it a rest, Luca,” Saxon shifts on his feet. A glance over his shoulder, a shared laugh and almost an apology but not directed at him. Luca isn’t always great with signals but he can feel the sudden unfriendly prickle in the air, the hostility.

You’re so fucking weird, Moreno.

He opens his mouth.

Saxon walk off.

--

It happens more than once.

--

It’s confusing, like trying to hold onto sand slipping through his fingers, up until it isn’t. He finds his space, amongst the twisted wires and loose threads, in the circuitry and flow of an electrical current. He always had an affinity for machines, for tech and code. There were no nuances to wade through. 

On or off, I or O. Luca always knew where he stood with his tech.

He chose a path and followed it to the end.

“Hey, Luca.”

Luca’s head snaps up. Saxon is a black shape blocking out the stars in his quiet place. He tenses as Saxon steps into the paltry ring of light thrown off his datapad and sits beside him on the threadbare rug.

“What do you want?” Luca asks flatly. His face still burns from being rebuffed. His ears still ring with the sound of their laughter.

Maybe the first time he might have been able to convince himself it didn’t mean much. A misunderstanding. A misstep. He’s had so many of those here. But by the second and the third it wasn’t possible to kid himself anymore. And Luca didn’t know what else to do, kept going back, pinging like a moth against the light. 

On or off. On. On. On.

“Come on, don’t be like that, Luc.” Saxon leans close. He smells like dried sweat and beer, smoky and apologetic as he nuzzles against Luca’s neck.

Luca tries to lean away. “What, so you suddenly remembered I exist?”

“Aw, like I could forget.”

“You tried pretty hard.” Luca tries to climb to his feet but Saxon’s hand snaps out to curl around his wrist. He grips tight.

“Luca, wait.”

“Let go, Saxon.”

“No, Luca. Come on, I’m… sorry, ok? Jesus, just… wait.”

The inside of Luca’s chest is desolate enough not to shove him away. Not yet. He hesitates, allows Saxon to draw him back down onto the rug. Stars slide overhead, a sparkle in the sky that leaves Luca homesick. He wants to curl into himself but he draws his knees up instead.

“You know, you’re kind of a dick, Saxon.”

“And you’re too much, Luca,” Saxon sighs. He slides closer, hands on Luca’s face. Heavy hands that Luca can’t twist away from. “You’re like a puppy trying to hump my leg whenever I turn around. You’re… loud.”

“I am not loud.”

“No, I mean,” Saxon rocks back and waves his hands over Luca, his face twisted into something pained. “This. You. Loud. You can be… suffocating.”

That stings. Luca scrambles back and Saxon lets him go. “You gotta give people a chance to breathe, Luca.”

--

On or off.

Flick, flick, flick.

Off.

--

His messages scattered to the four corners go unanswered for months. He doesn’t understand. He came all this way, sold his soul to get here and Kiosho was nowhere to be found.

Luca hunches over the terminal. Frustration squeezes his throat. He’s starting to unravel when he’s never been together in the first place.

“Hey, are you okay over there?”

The sob gets stuck as he sucks in a breath. Blue eyes skim him, kind and warm and more than he probably deserves.

“Sure,” he forces out brightly. Happy face, he tells himself. Squeezes away the dampness. Don’t let them see. “Guess I’ll try again tomorrow.”

--

Tommorow.

[No new messages]

And so on, and so forth.

--

Sand shifts under his feet. It doesn’t do that on the Citadel. The walls might shift, but the ground was never knocked out from beneath him.

He wheezes painfully as the screams echo. Dust, that every present choking dust billows up around him and there’s pressure and pain and something wet at the back of his throat. He tries to sit up but his body won’t listen to the signals his brain sends. There’s another boom, another shower of debris and screams and Luca’s world goes dark.

--

When he wakes up, it’s to silence.

The nurses lean over him, lights shine into his eyes, their mouths move but there’s no sound. No hum of the recycled air, no rustle of leaves as the wind brushes them, no stomp of feet on the sealed paths.

Just horrifying, terrible silence and Luca’s own thoughts and the desperate, sudden urge to claw his way out of his own skin.

He doesn’t realize he might be screaming until the prick of the needle slides through his skin.

Then he doesn’t feel much at all.

--

It takes him three months to heal his leg and adjust to his new ears. Some days are better than others and the headaches are somehow the worst part. He gets fast at signing to the OT’s and the doctor’s although they’re unimpressed at his mastery of signed curse words and not much else. For a while he’s angry but that takes too much energy and he can’t maintain it for long.

And stupidly, he waits.

The day they tell him they’re going to release him, he finally plucks up the courage to ask. “Did… did anyone visit?”

Where there any messages?

The nurse is sweet, green eyed, red hair and freckled all over her nose like stars in the black. She shakes her head, a smile that smacks too much of pity on her mouth. “No, I’m sorry, honey.”

“Oh.” Luca sinks back against the pillows. “Okay.”

--

The Alliance took his hearing and replaced it with something half baked, but it’s better than the silence so he doesn’t fuss. They haul him in front of the brass where the truth comes out in incriminating shades of glowing orange and textured lines. A deep dive that wasn’t deep enough, or too deep, depending on how you looked at it.

“Your ID is fake,” they tell him and Luca wants to protest because no, not really. He’s still him. He’s still Luca, some kid from the wards, too loud, too much to hold everything that vibrates inside his bones. It had taken the ride to Earth to be noticed and then the spat in the medical wing to be diagnosed. The meds helped. For the first time Luca’s world evened out.

“Altered,” he’s brave enough to say. “Sir.”

There’s a snap of brows over the datapad. Another officer with a chest full of medals coughs nearby.

“He’s two years in on his training. He’s the legally the right age now.”

“There has to be a consequence. What he did-“

“We’re short on bodies as it is. And with what’s coming... Well, this kid was determined enough to get here all on his own. We should use that.”

All eyes turn on him. “Is that true?”

Luca swallows. “Uh. Yes, sir.”

“Why? Why not just wait until you were of age?”

“I was trying to find my brother, sir.” I was trying to find home.

“And did you? Find him?

“No, sir.” Not yet.

There’s a rolling beat of silence that has Luca’s throat feeling thick. His stomach churns.

“Verdict?”

If they send him away, he has nowhere to go. The Alliance wasn’t home, but it was a purpose.

“Let him stay, but hold back that promotion.”

--

They send him to the edges of Council space. Too human for the wards, too alien for earth. The things that made him stand out under Sol’s light become useful out here. Batarian, Turian, Drell, even Krogan, familiar to his tongue, to his hands.

He’d almost laugh about it, if it didn’t fucking hurt.

--

It’s not the glory the recruitment posters promise them. Its blood and guts and screaming and the desperate search for the quiet space in his mind to give himself a moment to just think-

But bullets spray, shields go down, the turret jams.

They die.

They save the colony, but they die.

“Did you see that?” Checo wheezes from beside him. In the distance there’s the booms of biotic explosions and the flash of figures in armor he doesn’t recognize. They’re not alliance, he knows that much. He presses down on the hole in his side and wonders why it doesn’t hurt. It should hurt, right? The bullet tore right through him and blood leaks through his fingers.

He doesn’t know if he’s cut out for this.

--

Funny how the fates shift. How time and circumstance and one insignificant little moment can set him onto a path he has no comprehension of where it will lead. One second of hesitation, one shred through his flimsy armor that knocks him down but doesn’t kill him and leads him to this.

He’s shuffled into a new squad. Sometimes he’s loud, but they’re louder and Luca doesn’t need to squeeze into the places left behind because they make room for him. Fold around him like he matters. His commander even kisses his forehead like the mother he never had never did.

--

On or off.

Flick, flick, flick.

On.

--

The reapers wipe out so much of the fleet. Names of those lost scroll endlessly over terminal screens. A memorial wall crops up in the docking bay and in the ship. Thousands and millions gone.

Two names typed into a search, one the name that had started it all, the other he wonders why.

Too much, too loud.

He was never very good at letting go.

The terminal blinks.

[Personnel unknown]

But unknown was better than dead, right?

 --

#luca moreno #ii guess we just needed to get that out #excuse me while i go cry now

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Goodbye, My Lover

Oh this one hurts y'all! Prompt C-50 was hurt/comfort with "How drunk was I?" 

Ley, i don’t know how much you’re gonna love me after this but i really really went for the hurt part of this. Please forgive me friend?! And i hope you still like this even if it’s not what you expected?

Masterlist, Goodbye My Friend

Send me prompts y’all! I love them! And i’m avoiding uni work at all costs so i’m happy to do them!

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

"Fuck you." Annabeth Chase breathes, grey eyes misty with anger.

"Just get out, leave me alone." Percy Jackson turns away, turns his back to her.

"The next time," Her voice cracks but she stands her ground, "When you come crawling back, when you need us, remember the words you said today. Because I will never forget."

And with that his apartment door slams, echoing around the room, in time with the ringing in his ears. His mind is blank, body numb. He doesn't want to believe it, doesn't want to even think it. No. It's not true. It can never be true.

The words he said to his best friend rattle in his husk of a heart. Rattle and bounce and tear. It's your fucking fault. Why didn't you do anything. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. He blocks out the anguish he saw in her eyes, blocks out the broken sound she had made when he screamed. He doesn't want to believe this. Doesn't want to... Believe what?

Percy grabs his car keys and nearly rips the door off its hinges in his haste to get out. When he's finally in the car, it's too quiet. He can hear his thoughts, he can hear his heartbeat, and how loud the silence is.

I will not cry. There is nothing to cry about. It isn't true.

Music blasts through the speakers, vibrating the car. Drown it out. Drown out everything. He drives and drives and drives till he is parallel with the ocean, till his ear drums are almost bursting with pain. There on the edge of a street is a bar. He stops, parking carelessly. It's ten am, no-one will be here for hours anyway. And he doesn't give a shit if they are.

He prowls in and sits down at the counter instantly, not bothering to take notice of the velvet couches, and leather chairs. Or the low, yellow lights, swinging overhead, and casting the room in a soft, buttery glow. 

"Give me your strongest shit." His voice is rough.

"Bit early isn't it?" The bartender is playful but Percy isn't in the mood.

So when he looks up, green eyes glowing with danger, she immediately apologizes and gets to fixing his drink. Before she can set the glass on the marble-top, he's swiped it and downed the contents. He coughs at the fire blazing in his throat and then growls, "Keep em coming."

"Sir," She says softly, gently, he doesn't want her pity. "We're legally only allowed to sell three of those per customer, and not all at the same time."

"Well find something else. I need to get drunk. And fast." He isn't interested in reasons, he doesn't want to hear people. He wants to escape.

She sighs softly, but moves away to prepare his orders.

Percy shoots back whiskey, brandy, tequila, vodka, and everything else she gives him. By the time he's ten drinks in his head is blurry and his tongue is going numb.

"Sir, I think you should slow down."

He giggles, shakes his head, "No thanks. If I can't still hear my thoughts I'm not drunk enough."

Another glass is placed in front of him, amber liquid glistening in the dim lights. He drinks and drinks, until he can't feel his fingers and his mind is numb.

"Can I ask sir?" She looks at him curiously, "Why are you... What happened?"

"I don't know," He smiles, sloppy and distracted, "I mean I do know but it's not true."

"You're getting drunk off a lie?"

He ignores her question, staring into his now empty glass, "I was mean to my friend you know?"

"Oh is that why you’re here?"

"She said something that can't possibly be true. And I was mean to her."

"What did she say?" So much patience in her tone.

"She said," He hiccups, giggles, "Wait who?"

"Your friend? What did she say that made you say mean things?"

"Oh," He frowns, pushes his glass forward to get a refill, "Well it doesn't matter what she said because it's not true. But I told her I hate her."

"And do you hate her?"

Percy looks up then, tears streaming down his face, "Of course I don’t hate her. She's my best friend."

"Then why did you say that?"

"Why did I say what?" He murmurs, and then smiles, "How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you."

The bartender is striking, braids threaded with gold strains and gorgeous earthy skin.

"You're very beau— very beaufit— you're pretty. I hope someone tells you that everyday." His words are slurs and mumbles.

"Thank you." Her smile is beautiful too, gleaming white teeth and warm brown eyes.

"Do you have someone I can call?"

"Why do you want to call someone?" He pouts, "Am I boring you?"

"I think you need to have a nap."

He grins at her, black curls flopping into his face as he shakes his head, "I need another of that delicious drink. The blue one you made. I like blue things."

"If you can give me a phone number, I'll give you the drink."

He frowns, thinking about it, "Okay deal!"

And then he has a tall blue drink in front of him and she's moved to the other side of the bar, her phone pressed to her ear. He hears bits and pieces of conversation but he doesn't register anything. Instead he looks at the swirling glitter in the blue liquid, amazed by how it floats and sparkles.

"Okay," She comes back, "They'll be here in twenty."

"Twenty what?" He scrunches his nose in confusion.

"Twenty, minutes."

"Wanna know a secret?" He leans forward, motioning for her to come closer. "I'm very drunk." And that sets him off into peals of laughter. He almost falls off his chair but catches himself at the last second.

He gasps suddenly, and the bartender whips around, "What? What's wrong?"

"The stars are coming out! My boyfriend loves the stars."

"Oh, that's nice. The stars are pretty I can understand why he loves them."

"I love my boyfriend." Percy's smile is wide, and brilliant.

Just then a figure walks through the door. He squints to get a better look but can’t make them out in the blur of his vision, and the spinning room.

"Thank you for looking after him." The voice is raspy.

"He was entertaining, made my shift much more bearable at least."

"Well I'll take him off your hands." The voice reaches out a hand and places a stack of bills on the counter and then loops his arm around their neck.

"Can I ask?" The bartender motions to him.

"A friend died. He's not taking it well."

He can hear the wince in the stranger's voice, but he doesn't know why it's there. His eyes are so tired, he just wants to, to, to.....

Percy wakes up in his bed, head pounding like a hammer is doing gods work on his skull and his stomach is churning. He makes it to the bathroom with half a second to spare before he throws up all his internal organs, or that's what it feels like.

"How drunk was I?" He groans.

"Wasted. You drank for eight hours."

He looks up from the toilet to see Annabeth leaning against the door frame.

Annabeth...

His face crumples, "Tell me it's not true, Wise Girl."

And the shattering in her eyes confirms his worst fears.

He throws up again. And again. And again. And then he's screaming, crying, scratching at his chest. He can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't fucking breathe.

"I'm sorry Percy." Annabeth's arms wrap around him, pulls him against her chest where he can feel her erratic heart and her shaking ribs.

He cries until he passes out. He hopes he never wakes up.

What's the point? There's no-one to wake up to.

His boyfriend is gone. 

Jason Grace is dead.

#jercy fic #ciara only knows how to write jercy #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSG series #jercy #jason grace #percy jackson #prompt game #prompt fic #Ley asks

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You’re with, and are in love with (Villain A), but for a long time now you’ve noticed that they way they treat you… isn’t up to scratch. And now this other guy, (Villain B) comes along and you feel loved and beautiful and competent all the time, with them. It’s a choice between someone who makes you believe that without a doubt soulmate are real and this person is yours, and the one that makes you feel really, really good. You give (Villain A) a choice.

Includes: Drayton Sawyer / Mayor Buckman (Horror Villains), Eric / Peter Hayes (Misc), Nina The Killer / Candy Pop (Creepypasta), Riddler and Edward Nygma / Barbara Kean (Gotham), and Human!Scar / Human!Shere Kahn (Disney Villains).

Warnings: Toxic or unhappy relationships, BLOOD (Nina and Candy Pop’s part- only a little but still), swearing, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE (Riddler.)

Notes:

Inspired by ‘According To You’ by Orianthi. You can also listen to the Elise Lieberth version if you’re gonna!! It’s a lot more soulful and matter o’ fact, rather than mad and desperate. Both are soooo good, though.

Quick directory: If you’re looking for anger, I will send you to the Riddler and Eric and if you’re looking for sad I will show you two Drayton and Nina and if you want a happy ending, go to Scar! 

This is in your POV

~~~

Drayton Sawyer (Villain A) and Mayor Buckman (Villain B)

According to you I'm stupid I'm useless I can't do anything right

“Drayton!” Get back here, you basta-

“I’m too busy for this talk, girl / boy / kid!” He cuts off my thoughts with that dreaded phrase, that I hate hearing come from him and waves his arms dismissively without even turning to look at me. That phrase. That awful, familiar phrase. ‘I’m too busy for this talk’. Jesus Christ, it hits a nerve. He’s always too busy! “And so’re you! Grab the other end a’ this hay bale for me. We’re movin’ it on to the truck- Nubbins thinks I can get some money off ’em from passin’ famers. Better then having ‘em sit here and get eatin’ by Bubba.”

Gaining courage from my frustration, I march over there and slam my foot firmly down on the bale of hay. Drayton looks up from the side he was gearing to pick up and scrunches his face up in his own frustration. “What the hell are you doing? Get your lazy ass foot off this bale!”

“We have to talk, Drayton.”

“About what?!”

Has he already- Forgotten- What I-

I was just talking to him about it!!

“Oh my god Drayton, how self-absorbed can you be?? I was just talking to you about it!”

I feel stupid for feeling guilty for what’s going on, now. I suddenly remember what drove me to this situation- he doesn’t care one lick about me!

“Uhh… “He has the good manners to look ashamed for a moment, voice hesitating as he tries to remember something he knows just isn’t there in his head at all. “My bad.”

“Yes, your bad!”

He sighs in frustration, standing up straight and setting his hands on his hips with an annoyed vigour. He raises his eyebrows, as if to say ‘I’m waiting??’ and I control the urge to growl at him. This is not the way I wanted it to come out, and if he was even a little less infuriating, I would check myself and calm down- but he isn’t a little less infuriating and I want to throw this bale of hay at his scrawny ass.

“Well what’s goin’ on, girl / boy / kid?”

Ohhh, fucking Christ I hate it when he calls me that. Like I’m a child. This may fly with your brothers, Drayton, but we’re the same age! Goddamnit.

Mirroring his actions by putting my hands on my hips in an exaggerated way and raising my eyebrows back at him, I blurt it out firmly. Leaving zero room for him to possibly hear me wrong. “I’m having an affair.”

A moment of silence passes, and of course, now is when I immediately start to feel all the emotions that anger just a moment ago was blocking out. Regret, guilt, heartbreak… I take my foot off the hay back to the firm ground and my eyes well up with tears from the sheer force of the feelings. Drayton’s hands slip off his hips.

“… that Mayor?”

I’m surprised for a moment that Drayton knows. He could pick up on who it must be, which means he was noticing me. Its sort of good, to feel that he actually paid attention to me that one time, when we met... Buckman… but it isn’t enough to make up for the past decade. Looking away from him, I breathe and mess with my hair a bit simply for something to do with my hands. “… yeah.”

Dumbly, he tilts his head slightly to the side. His voice even stutters, which is so not Drayton. “… why?”

I hate myself for hurting him.

Looking back him, some tears break free down my cheeks. “Because! I forgot what it felt like to be liked. It… took me by surprise.”

“Maybe we should have a, ah, a sit down, then. Lets, lets go then. While the boy’s are out. To the kitchen, yeah. Come on, girl / boy / kid.”

He turns around as he says it, plus a lot more that isn’t important is just his ramblings as we walk off, but I wince from the name he gave me again.

Eric (Villain A) and Peter Hayes (Villain B)

According to you I'm difficult Hard to please Forever changing my mind I'm a mess in a dress Can't show up on time Even if it would save my life

The cruel grin on Eric’s face as he stands over me, doesn’t scare me. It just reminds me of how hurt he is. It’s true, I haven’t done anything… but now he knows what I’ve been thinking. About Peter, of all people, and probably more importantly what I’ve been thinking about him; Eric. “He’s not much better than me, you know.”

Grimacing, I fiddle more nervously with my hands that are in my lap and look down the barren hallway that I was able to corner him alone in. That’s very true. “I know that. That’s not the point.” When I look up, he’s scowling at me.

“Then what is the point?” He sounds mad. Like, bull mad. But I don’t waver, because under this shame- I’m pretty damn mad, too. I feel like my eyes flash at him not understanding the situation after I already, explicitly, explained to him what was wrong with our relationship two seconds ago. But its like all he heard was that I thought another man, Peter, a boy my age and not my instructor, was making me feel better than he was and he ignored everything else. If I wasn’t so pissed, I would understand. Jealousy is a serious emotion. I get that.

But he isn’t jealous.

Eric is possessive. Which is only one of our problems.

“The point is that I love you. I want, you.” It’s so true. Every word. I want Eric. I want him! Goddamnit, if I could genetically engineer a man who looks, acts and thinks like Eric, but with Peter’s attention span then I fucking would do so in heartbeat. “But you treat me like I’m just this small part of your life, like a hobby you can pick up and put down any time you like! And, god, you insult me! You disrespect me. I know you’re overworked and hormonal, but I don’t know how much longer I can wait it out before it isn’t a phase anymore!”

His goddamn nostrils flare, this time. “So you want to break up?”

Oh my god. My heart leaps up into my throat and, instantly, the word ‘No’ leaps right out of my chest, clear as day. “God, no. I don’t want to break up! I want to work through this together. I just want one thing in these negotiations Eric, and that’s to be liked by you.”

He breathes out slowly through his nose, and watch his shoulders and chest slowly drop. His eyes focus on the ceiling. “Y/N, you know I love you- “I get up from my seat abruptly and square up to him.

“Yes I know that! But that isn’t the same thing as being liked!” I am begging him. I am pleading that he understands, and we can be happy again.

… Because if he doesn’t, I have to do what’s best for me.

And as far as I can see, that is Peter. Or being alone! But honestly, the Peter option is looking better and better every second. Peter is an evil little shit, and violent, and deeply messed up, but he treats me well. He would never hurt me- emotionally or physically. And damn, I like spending time with him! And I really, really want that.

With Eric, if I can.

But all I’m seeing in this conversation is that option getting smaller and smaller.

For a good few minutes, he just stands there. First, he was breathing heavily… but now he’s just thinking. I watch with round eyes, and wait patiently. What’s happening? What are you thinking? Please, Eric.

Finally, he reaches over and squeezes more arm for a moment. It’s a comforting gesture, but when I look into those blue eyes of his, all I see is empty. He’s leaving. “We’ll talk about this later, k? I’ve got shit to do, now.”

For me, when he walked away, that was the end of everything right there. The last straw. I feel empty, too.

Nina The Killer (Villain A) and Candy Pop (Villain B)

According to you, according to you But according to him I'm beautiful Incredible He can't get me out of his head

“NINA!” I cut off her screaming with my own, nearly damn well shredding my vocal cords to cut through. But I succeed, and she’s now just glaring at me, twisting the tip of her knife into the tip of her finger. At first it wasn’t affecting her, just a nervous habit, but now theirs blood and I wince. Moving forward, I gently remove the knife from her hands, put it away in my hoodie pocket and carefully take her hands in mine, instead. Then I look back up at her, and look firm. “You’re just distracting us both. Don’t you wanna work through this with me?”

Through grit teeth, barely moving her face, she tells me. “I feel betrayed, Y/N.”

A rush of guilt for hurting her floods me -my stomach, my heart, - and I feel physically nauseous. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”

“Are you really gonna listen to me?” I counter, causing her to flinch at the very thought of hearing me out. She looks away, but doesn’t remove her hands from mine and after a moment, sighs in utter defeat and frustration and nods fine. “Okay… um.” I hadn’t really thought about explaining what’s going on, to her. Being with a Creepypasta like her, who’s been traumatised and emotionally wrecked, you learn to keep your problems to yourself in fear they’ll relapse and hurt you. It’s not a fair or decent relationship in the slightest, I know, but it’s what we have. It’s what I’ve been perfectly happy with for years now. It’s what we’re fighting for.

So… I guess… I don’t have much of a choice, now. Taking a shaky breath in, I start and hope I don’t get murdered. “I feel like… you hate me.” She freezes under my touch but I don’t look up to see her face. “Like Jeff will always be more important than me, to you. He’s the one you want, he’s the one you have the connection to... and I understood that at first. I could take it… but- but the longer we stayed together I realised I always thought you would become more accustomed to me; That you would want me. But you don’t. Its always him-“ She tries to wrench her hands from me, but I clamp my grip down hard on her and drag her back, looking up into her face with a determined, probably pretty pissed off look on my face. “Nina. Still talking, here.”

“Its… its not true!” She doesn’t look so sure, her own determined-pissed off look dissolving into nervousness, chewing on her bottom lip.

“It is.” That look is all the admission there needs to be. Theirs no more supposing about it- Jeff will always be a step ahead of me. That Michael Jackson looking bastard. “And if I‘m going to be with someone, then I want to be number one. And, i-if you can’t… “I chew on my cheek to force myself not to cry. “Nina, Pop does want me like that.”  

I want to show her through my eyes, how serious this is. My desperation for her to just step up for me, and my stubborn desire to be wanted like he wants me.

God, I thought this conversation might help- but I don’t feel like stopping what’s between Pop and I now, ever.

I think its over with me and Nina, as she looks innocent and wide eyed and lost and… heartbroken.

It is the end, then.

She detangles her hands finally from mine, and cups my face in thin, freezing cold, shaky hands. “I wish… “I gather her middle against my body, in between my arms and bury my face in her neck, tears running freely down my face now. “Oh god, I wish.”

I wish we’d met before all that with Jeff. It definitely would’ve been us.

Me too.

Riddler and Edward Nygma (Villain/s A) and Barbara Kean (Villain B)

She's into me for everything I'm not According to you I need to feel appreciated Like I'm not hated, oh no Why can't you see me through her eyes? It's too bad you're making me decide

My back hits the wall a little too hard, causing my head to knock back into it and my vision to go blurry as he speaks his ironically phrased ‘peace’, so all I see is a very deep scowl and green. I’m pared from his crooked teeth and the dark, hateful way his eyes will be zeroed in on me. “How could you do this to me?? I allowed Ed to keep you, I- “He makes a constipated face as my vision clears up, his fingers digging deeply into my hips. I wriggle and twitch slightly, and try to quietly pull them out of my skin, but they are not moving, and I don’t even think he feels me struggling. So I give up, focusing instead on just regaining my vision. “I STARTED TO LOVE YOU TOO!”

Rolling my head against the wall in boredom, like a student waiting for that bell, and I don’t even flinch when he screams in my face at this point, although I do admit; It of course isn't pleasant. “Ugh, Ed, your breath stinks- “

“I AM NOT ED!”

“Okay, Riddler, your breath stinks.” Same-Same, for me. 

“Treat this seriously- you’ve betrayed me.” He is so mad. No matter how vehemently this guy tries to tell people he isn’t Ed- he sure is controlled by his emotions like Ed. He wouldn’t be this mad if he wasn’t heartbroken. Fucker was born from emotions.

Well guess what Riddler? I’m heartbroken too. And you put me here.

He scrapes his fingers against my skin, and I just grin wider.

There is nothing quite like annoying this man- especially when he’s treating me with such little respect. My eyes flash up to his and I grit my teeth. “I thought you were smart, man. I don’t love you the way I loved Ed- the way I now love her. Mistake number 1. You shouldn’t have ever let yourself fall as deep as you have, here.”

“But you do love me?!” He’s desperate and trying to reassure himself, and at the same time remind me of that fact. And oh god, I know. I know that I love him. Despite his many, maaany faults, I love him. He is what’s left over from Ed, my first love, who’s a whole lifetime away from me now. I’m attached to him, the Riddler, whether I like it or not!

And I don’t like it.

That’s why I’m leaving.

“Mistake number 2. You couldn’t just check yourself- because you’re so perfect, right? You couldn’t just look at how you were treating me and work on it? If you had, we wouldn’t be here right now. I wanted you… but you can’t see me the same way Barbara does.  

I wrap my fingers around the object in my pocket, feelings its need. It’s about fifteen centimetres long, and black, with little nibs at the end designed to leave a nasty lasting impact.

He’s looking at me, waiting for what else he did wrong. Always a learner, and a sucker for pain. “Mistake three- the Hamartia. You then gave me a choice, between you and Barbara. You should’ve known I would never pick you. I love you, yes.” For a second my voice is soft, and I let go of the weapon to reach up and cup his, and more importantly Ed’s, beautiful face. My grip becomes slightly tighter after a second. “But I love her, too. The difference is just that she sees me and sees someone beautiful. You see a possession. I.e. you think it’s a given that I’ll be with you.”

His eyes go cold, and even darker. His mad, laughing smirk makes its appearance, and I move one hand back into my pocket. “What makes you think I’ll even let you leave?”

“I didn’t think that.” I admit, watching for his reaction. As soon as his smile broadens like the sad, mistaken gremlin that he is, I pull out the taser and push the button, pressing the needles into the Riddler’s neck.

He immediately loosens up everything, and flings back awkwardly to the floor. 

“I’m so done with you. You took Ed from me.” My voice wobbles and I cover my mouth, pressing my lips tightly to each other for a moment to pull myself together. Then I glance back down at the Riddler’s twitching body one final time. “And don’t think for one second that you’ll just come pick me up later; I’m going to Oz’s.”

Human!Scar (Villain A) and Human!Shere Kahn (Villain B)

But according to me You're stupid You're useless You can't do anything right

We spent all day fighting, and now I’m just… tired. And sad. I’m so tired, of pleading with him to like me. Always doing more, for him. Making his favourite meals, smiling when he tells unfunny jokes, agreeing ‘to an extent’ -a bare faced lie, - with the shit he spouts… Today, an actual fight about how I feel, was just the crux of this mess that I’ve been hoping was a relationship for so long. But it isn’t a relationship; Not a proper one.

If it was, I wouldn’t be killing myself trying to be happy.

So I’m leaving, officially.

I give Scar one more cuddle, burying my head in his chest for a good minute, begging myself to be strong and let go, then slip out of the bed and collect my suit case. I packed this while he was cooking dinner earlier, and hid under the bed. Of course, I’ll have to come back and get the rest of my stuff… but Kahn say’s he’ll help me.

Even still in this room, where Scar’s and my relationship turned from beautiful to a monster, the thought of Kahn makes me smile- I can’t help it. Just the mention of him in my head, and then his face comes to mind -Smirking at me, about to tickle me and I know it,- and the corners of my mouth perk upwards and my teeth show. It feels really, really good and I can’t wait to see him.

Taking a deep breath, I leave the room and the apartment all together. There is a slight nauseous feeling in my stomach from doing so, but I push on and the further I get to the exit, the freer I feel. 

Finally, I twist front door open and take a deep breath through my nose, feeling one last moment of longing to go back, but knowing I wont. I cant. It’s violet walls that Scar and I painted together when we first moved in, that now give me headache... And its white wood theme, that was supposed to brighten up the place when he used to leave me alone a lot at home... and the knitted coasters I spent time choosing and making to avoid hanging out with him… I leave it all, closing the door behind me. 

Thinking about all that makes me want to cry, but I’ve already cried to much about all of this- it would feel like overkill.

Besides, I need to focus a little more on not smiling, which would be in such bad taste, when I see Kahn waiting for me outside. I tilt my head to the side. “No car?”

“Nope, we’re walking darling. I thought it might be better for you tonight.”

I take a deep breath of the fresh air while Kahn takes my hand in his. It feels good. “Yeah, you might be right… That sounds good.“

#Any Category Villains #All Category Villains #MultiVillains x Reader #horror villains x reader #Drabbles #Drayton Sawyer #Drayton Sawyer x Reader #Mayor Buckman #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Eric (Divergent) #Eric x Reader #Eric (Divergent) x Reader #Peter Hayes #Peter Hayes x Reader #Nina The Killer #Nina The Killer x Reader #Candy Pop #Candy Pop x Reader #Edward Nygma #Edward Nygma x Reader #The Riddler #The Riddler x Reader #barbarian #Barbara Kean x Reader #Disney Scar #Disney Scar x Reader #Shere Kahn x Reader #Shere Kahn

[emgkheadcannons]

So accidentally read this ask wrong from @positivecorrelation, and thought it was about them ending their beef, went with that, and wrote everything below this. I just rechecked the ask and realised what you were asking for. I will make it work.

I don’t have a set headcanon on how they make up, but one of my favorite ideas is that Cassie, and Hailie team up to end the feud. So I started writing an entire fic, but I really wanted to post this so here is the headcanon and most of the fic.

Cassie convinces MGK to apologise to Hailie, not her dad, since he wronged her first. She does it with perfect little kid logic, and Kelly wants to not only be a good dad but also a good example for his daughter, so he apologises to Hailie.

Hailie would be really happy she received an apology, and would decide that if a 9 year old can convince her dad to apologise, maybe together, and with a little outside help, they can get this feud to end.

This takes place sometime late February 2019.

Cassie hated that her dad was in a feud with Eminem. A lot of people are being mean, harassing him when he goes out, and booing him when he does ‘Rap Devil’. She has noticed that her dad isn’t as happy, and is acting different. He is sleeping more and more.

Cassie had an idea to help him though. If her dad apologises to Eminem’s daughter then that should make things better, not perfect, but it was a starting point. First she needs to find her dad, so she can convince him that he needs to apologise to hailie. She finds him easily enough in the living room, working on a song.

She starts by asking about the beef, and why they are fighting. Then she asked if he apologized, which she knows he did, but to the wrong person.

“But dad, but your tweet was about his daughter, not him. Shouldn’t you have apologized to Hailie instead?” Cassie asks.

Kelly freezes, thinking about what his daughter said. His tweet was about Hailie. She was the one he insulted, but he tried to apologize to Eminem. He never thought about how his comment affected her. If some kid had said something rude to his daughter, he would expect them to apologize to her.

“You’re right Cassie. I should have apologized to Hailie.”

“Then why don’t you? I bet she would appreciate it.”

“It’s a little too late for that now, pumpkin.”

“It’s never too late to say you’re sorry.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“No it’s not. You made a mistake, you acknowledged you made a mistake, now you just need to tell her you're sorry, and that you won’t do it again. See simple.”

“You are right again, sugar bean. How did you get so smart?” Kelly asks as he scoops his daughter up, as she breaks out into a fit of giggles.

Later that night, after he has put Cassie to bed, Kelly thinks about what she said. He really should apologize to Hailie for his tweet, but how could he get in contact with her. It’s not like Eminem, or anyone close to her will help him, and a public apology will look like a copout after all the feuding he and Em have done.

“Fuck. I can’t set a bad example for Cassie.”

He scrolls through his contacts on his phone, until he sees Travis Barker’s name. ‘Maybe he can give me some advice.’ He checks the clock; it was only 10:30, Travis should still be up.

After two rings he picks up

“Hey Kelly. What’s up?”

“Do you know a way I can get in touch with Eminem’s daughter Hailie?”

“Why do you want to get in contact with Hailie Scott?” Travis asks threateningly.

“I just want to apologise to her, nothing else. My daughter was asking about my feud with Eminem, and asked why I apologised to him, and not Hailie, since it was Hailie I tweeted about. I thought about what she said and it’s a good point. I wronged Hailie, therefore I need to apologise to Hailie, but I have no idea how.”

“So why call me?”

“For advice.”

“Okay. Let’s think. You could try DMing her”

“I highly doubt she would read a DM from me, if she hasn’t out right blocked me on everything.”

“Right. No one will probably give you her phone number. So maybe write her a letter.”

“A letter really. Even if I do write her a letter, I don’t have an address to send it to.”

“I can actually help with that. You just write the letter. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Okay, a letter it is.”

“Oh and Kelly, you better be telling the truth about this. I don’t mind helping you, but if this is just a way to get to Eminem by using Hailie, or something like that, I will personally drive your career into the ground.”

“Don’t worry Travis I am serious about this. I’ll leave the envelope unsealed so you can read it before it’s sent off.”

“Okay. Call me when you’re done.”

Kelly puts his phone down, grabs pen and paper, and starts drafting his letter.

It’s harder than he thought it would. Swallowing his pride, admitting his faults, and humbling himself is hard, but he finally does, and the letter shows his regret for his actions. Now he just has to find that nice stationary someone gifted him.

******

Hailie was sick and tired of all the attention she has been getting from her dad’s feud with Machine Gun Kelly. She prefers the quiet life she was making for herself, but now she barely got a moment of peace. What makes it even worse is that she has never seen her dad so angry, worrying that things will escalate beyond diss tracks and insults. Hailey doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her dad, because he feels obligated to defend her honor.

She knows her father’s beef with MGK isn’t just about the tweet Kelly posted back in 2012 about her being hot when she was 16, (Kelly says he didn’t know how old she was at the time), and that it was more about how disrespectful MGK was to her dad, saying he was better than her dad, and claiming how Eminem was hindering his career, banning him from Shade 45, and whatnot, but she was tired of this shit. Yeah MGK was a prideful idiot, who was full of himself, but her dad did block him from Shade 45, and some of his friends have decided not to associate with Kelly. When Kelly really did try to talk to Eminem in private, and end their feud, he threw it back in the blonds face, making Machine Gun Kelly double down, and release that diss track, ‘Rap Devil’. Her dad then destroyed him with ‘Killshot’.

While going through her mail, she notices a letter. She couldn’t think of who would send her a letter. Maybe it was a former classmate, or a thank you card. Shrugging she opens the envelope, and pulls out the paper inside.

The letter read,

Hailie,

I am sorry for the tweet I posted in 2012 about you being ‘sexy as fuck’, making you uncomfortable, and for apologising to your dad instead of you.

When I posted the tweet I didn’t know you were only sixteen, and when I found out your age I should have taken it down immediately, and apologized to you, but I didn’t. Instead I made a half assed apology to your dad, who I should have apologised to anyway, but for a different reason.

My daughter helped me see my mistakes, and convinced me that it’s not too late to apologise for what I did. I am going to set a better example for her. I have deleted the tweet, and I promise to never do something like that again. I will make a public apology, if that helps you, or if there is something else you need me to do, please tell me. I want to make up for what I did to you.

I was wrong for what I did, and what you had to deal with because of my actions.

I know I don’t deserve it, and that you in no shape or form have to give it to me, but I would like to ask for your forgiveness.

Sincerely,

Colson Baker, (A.K.A. Machine Gun Kelly)

Hailie was shocked. Machine Gun Kelly sent her a handwritten letter, to apologise for something he did years ago. No one else who had targeted and dissed her has ever apologised to her. Her dad sure, but never her. She rereads it just to make sure.

She opens up twitter, and the tweet is gone. Looking back at the letter, Hailie smiles. Maybe Machine Gun Kelly wasn’t as bad as she thought. She did want to know how he got her address though.

Going back to her phone, she reopens twitter, and goes to Machine Gun Kelly’s profile. She unblocks him, before opening her DMs.

I got your letter. How did you get my address? - Hailie

A few minutes later she got a reply.

I’m glad you got my letter. Don’t worry I don’t have your address. I gave the letter to Travis Barker. He’s the one who got a hold of your address. - MGK

Hailie frowns at her phone. Who was Travis Barker? His name sounds familiar. After a quick google search, she sees he is the drummer for Blink-182, and that he probably got it from Paul Rosenberg. Okay that made her feel better. Going back to twitter, she sees that she has a new message.

Would you mind if I told my daughter that you got my apology letter? - MGK

Hailie thinks about it before typing her reply.

Yeah, go ahead, I don’t mind if you tell her. This doesn’t mean that I forgive you though. - Hailie

I understand, and thank you. Again I am sorry for my tweet, and dragging you into this beef. - MGK

Hailie doesn’t respond. She debates whether or not to reblock MGK, but decides against it. He really did seem remorseful for what he did, and is trying to change to be better for his daughter. That gets Hailie thinking, if Machine Gun Kelly’s daughter can convince him that he needs to apologize to her, and not her dad, then maybe together they can get their dad’s to stop fighting.

Hailie has a plan to end this stupid feud, get her dad from being so angry all the time, and hopefully get her peaceful life back. She will need Cassie’s help, and a few other people too, for this to work. First thing she does is call up Paul Rosenberg.

“This is Paul.”

“Hey, Paul this is Hailie. Do you have a second?”

“Sure. What can I do for you?”

“First are you with my dad.”

“No. Should I be?”

“No, it’s better if he isn’t around for this. Did you give my address to Travis Barker?”

“No, he gave me the letter to mail. I didn’t read it though. He said it was something important, and asked me not to read it. Is everything okay? Was there something in there I should Know about?”

“The letter was important, and you did the right thing trusting him. I just wanted to know how he got my address.”

“Okay, I’m glad my judgement was good, but this has me a little worried. Will you tell me what the letter was about?”

Hailie debates whether or not to tell him. On one hand the letter was an apology to her, she doesn’t have to tell anyone about it. On the other hand, if she tells Paul nothing, he might tell her dad about it in concern, which would ruin her plans. She makes her decision.

“It was a handwritten apology letter from Machine Gun Kelly.”

There is a moment of silence before Paul responds. “WHAT!”

“You heard me. He apologized for the tweet he posted about me, making me uncomfortable, apologising to my dad instead of me, and for dragging me into this stupid feud. He even deleted the tweet.”

Hailie can hear Paul tapping on his phone, probably checking to see if it was really deleted. “Damn, he really did delete it. Do you know what brought this on?”

“Yeah, his daughter.”

“Okay, makes sense.”

“So you know how you have been trying to get my dad to end this feud with him, well this gave me an idea. I just need to know if you are in.”

“I’m listening.”

“If Cassie can change her dad’s mind, then I should be able to do the same with my dad, right? Right. So I need you to do a couple of things. I need a way to get in contact with Cassie, and her mom. I will also need you to back me up later on.”

“Okay I can probably get in touch with Cassie, and her mom. Give me a few days. And I will back you up but I will need more details.”

“I will tell you the details later. I need to make a few more calls.

Next people she recruits are Alaina and Whitney. They have noticed how agitated Eminem has been lately, and agree to help with her plan. He also ropes in Travis Barker, Tommy Lee and Elton John, to help them too.

Paul came through with Emma’s, Cassie’s mom, phone number, and an understanding that Emma will listen to her idea, but she decides if Cassie is involved.

Hailie explains her plan. She and Cassie were going to convince their dad’s to meet, in hopes of ending the beef. Colson already tried once, but Em turned it down. This is where Cassie came in. She needed to convince her dad that he should try again, that he should take the higher ground, and be the better person. You know, set a good example. Emma can help with this too. Hailie has the harder job of convincing her dad to do the same. That he has defended her, and should talk with MGK. Once they have convinced both men to meet, they will have to pick a date that works for everybody. They will have Paul, Travis, Elton, and of course Hailie and Cassie, there when the two meet. Hopefully having both of their daughters there will keep things civil long enough to get something done. Paul hopes a collaboration comes out of it, but Hailie and Cassie just want their dads to be happy again.

******

Over the next few weeks Hailie e-mailed, Cassie and Emma,over how to get the two rappers to end their feud.

******

Hailie, Whitney, and Alaina have been dropping hints, and saying things, about ending arguments, burning the hatchet, and letting bygones be bygones. Em is really proud of his girls, being so mature, but fails to get the hints. Whitney even stages a fight with a friend, with an epic apology, but it still goes over Em’s head.

Now it is time for Hailie to confront her dad on his feud.

She has made it this far, there’s no turning back now. Hailie straightens her back, squares her shoulder, and walks into her dad’s office determined. Her dad looks up from some papers and smiles. It’s nice to see him smile.

“Hey Hailie.”

“Hey dad.”

“What brings you over? Not that I’m not glad to see you, it’s just you have been busy lately.”

“I came to talk to you. It’s about your feud with Machine Gun Kelly.”

The smile falls off Eminem’s face and his eyes harden. “You don’t need to worry about that son of a bitch. I’ll take care of him.” He stands up and heads over to the window.

Hailie takes a deep breath. “No dad. It was me he tweeted about. Everything has gotten out of control, and I have now been dragged into your stupid feud.”

Em turns around. “I know sweetie, and I’m sorry for that, but don’t worry I am crushing that blond asshole. His career is practically over.”

“Dad, that's not okay. Yeah, he is an asshole, and he deserved to be knocked down a few pegs, but this is overkill.”

“Hailie, this is my business. What I do…” Em didn’t get to finish her sentence.

“No, this isn’t just your business. It’s mine too, and I get a say in what happens. Machine Gun Kelly wrote me a letter…” Hailie didn’t get to finish what

“HE FUCKING CONTACTED YOU. I’M GOING TO KILL HIM. THAT STALKING SON OF A…” Em yells, as he heads for the door. Hailie steps in front of him, blocking the exit.

“No you're not. Now calm down. We are going to finish this conversation.”

“Hailie Jade Scott Mathers you better move out of my way.”

“No dad. I am a full grown woman, not a little girl anymore, and you are going to listen to what I have to say. Yes he wrote me a letter. He did it to apologise for what he did. The tweet, the feud, everything. Do you know how many other people have apologised to me for stuff they said? Have expressed regret for what they did to me? Not how many regret having to deal with you, but feel bad for what they did to me.”

Eminem thinks for a second, but doesn’t respond. Hailie continues.

“None. That’s how many. Everyone says sorry to you, not me. He is the only one. He admitted that he should have given me an apology for the comment, and even though it is years late, he still said sorry. Even after this whole feud, ‘Killshot’, and everyone hating him, Colson Baker is a big enough man to admit when he is wrong.”

“Just because he said ‘sorry’ doesn’t mean…”

“No dad, he didn’t just say ‘sorry’, he swallowed his pride, took responsibility for it, deleted the tweet, asked what he could do to make it up to me, and asked for my forgiveness. He wants to be a better role model for his own daughter. Here, read it for yourself.” Hailie hands him the letter, and waits while he reads it.

Em reads the letter. The kid really did set his pride aside and ask for his daughter forgiveness. He rereads the letter just to make sure he read it right, and he did. He was still unbelievably pissed that Machine Gun Kelly was somehow able to get to Hailie, but after reading the letter he doesn’t want to kill the blond idiot anymore.

“Okay he apologized to you, what do you want me to do? Just let him get away with running his mouth?”

“You have already won. He admitted that he couldn’t respond to ‘Killshot’. He tried to contact you more than once to end it but you said no. What I want is for you to be like Machine Gun Kelly, swallow your pride and set a better example for Alaina, Whitney, and I, and at least meet with him, so this stupid feud can end.” Hailie says as she holds her dad’s satire.

Em looks away, and sighs. “I don’t really have a choice in this so I?”

“You do have a choice. You can be an adult and meet with him, or you can be petty, and Alaina, Whitney, Paul, Fifty, Royce, Elton, Dre, and I will be disappointed in you.”

“Of course you got everyone to back you up. Fuck! Fine, I will meet with him, but I am making no promises about ”

Hailie relaxes. She will take it. For all intents and purposes, her dad has agreed, and she is tired, but she has a sense of accomplishment.

“Thanks dad. I’ll have Paul arrange the meeting.” She turns to leave.

“Hey, Heilie.”

“Yeah,dad.”

She turns back around, and her dad has wrapped her up in a big hug. She returns it immediately, and stands there for a moment. When they finally break apart Em asks her, “When did you get so smart, Jelly bean?”

“I don’t know dad. I musta learned it from you.”

******

The day of the meeting happens. They are in a studio in LA. It’s a neutral location. Paul, Elton, and Travis are sitting in the room waiting on the others to arrive.

“So, do you think this will actually work?” Travis asks.

“I don’t know darling, but hopefully with their daughters here it will be civil.” Elton replies as he crosses his ankles.

A few minutes later Eminem shows up with Hailie, and he looks put out. “Alright where is the blond fucker?”

“Marshall! I hope you don’t plan on using that kind of language today. Colson is bringing his daughter, and she is only 9.” Elton scolds. Em sighs knowing better than to argue with Uncle Elton about this kind of thing, even though he is pretty sure that she has heard worse from her own dad. He slumps into a chair between Paul and Hailie, already feeling done with the day and this meeting.

Kelly walks in with Cassie on his shoulders, and she is just chatting away, and Kelly is listening to every word she says. He sets her down in one chair, and takes the one between her and Travis.

“Hi Cassie.” Hailie greets.

“Hi Hailie.” Cassie says with a wave.

Em looks between his and Kelly’s daughters, and then it clicks.

“Fuuuuc-dge, fudge knuckles.” Em has to correct himself remembering that there is a literal child present. Hailie and Travis are snickering. At least Paul and Elton are trying to hide their amusement at his outburst. Em looks over at Kelly who gives him a look saying ‘yeah me too’.

“Our daughters played us.” Em says.

“Yep they teamed up to gang up on us.” Kelly says as he nods in agreement.

Neither rapper speaks, and the silence gets heavier with each passing moment.

“Let’s get this over with.” Em says with a sigh. “Everyone else out. This is between Machine Gun Kelly and me.”

Everyone but Kelly and Cassie begin to protest. Cassie decides to take action. She nudges her dad in the side with her elbow, and whispers in his ear, “Remember Dad be the bigger person.”

“Thanks pumpkin.” He whispers back, gives her a hug. She then grabs hailies hand, and heads for the door. The others follow suit, until it’s just Em and Kelly in the room.

“I’m sorry for tweeting about your daughter. I’m sorry for those things I said about you trying to interfere with my career, and I'm sorry for the other awful things I said about you. I really didn’t mean for that tweet to be rude, but I now see how it looks.”

“Did you fucking practise.”

Kells scratches the back of his head, breaking eye contact, looking down, at the ground. “Yeah with my daughter.” He mumbles out.

“Why did you post that tweet about Hailie?”

“To be honest, I thought she looked hot in it, but I didn’t know how old she was. When I found out how old she was I was disgusted with myself, but didn’t know what to do.”

“Okay fine I can understand that you didn’t know her age before commenting, but it was still shitty.”

“I Know.”

“Don’t ever do it again.”

Kelly looks up meeting Em’s Glare. “I won’t.”

Em takes pity on him, seeing that he is being sincere.

“I’m sorry too, kid. I’m sorry I banned you from Shade 45, talked shit about you, and called you a mumble rapper. You’re not.”

“Thank you.” A soft smile appears on Kelly’s face. Em can’t help but think it looks good on the blond.

Em can’t help but smirk. He was going to have fun picking on Kelly. “Am I really your idol?”

Kelly goes pink, and looks away. “Shut-up.”

“Oh no. You really looked up to me didn’t you? You wanted to be just like me. I bet you had all my albums, and posters of me.”

“Yeah but they always say never meet your heroes.” Kelly freezes, not meaning to say that out loud, making Em stop. Yeah Kelly did look up to him. Kelly really didn’t do anything, beside the tweet. Em did hinder his career, and was an ass to him, but the entire time they were feuding, Kelly still said he looked up to him.

“Look I’m sorry I was an ass to you. You just wanted recognition from me. Instead I dissed you, called you a mumble rapper. You tried to end this multiple times, and I didn’t want to hear it.”

Kelly is still blushing but he is looking at Em again.

“Your lyrics aren’t half bad either.”

The blond lights up. “Really?”

“Yes, need some work but they are pretty good.”

“Thank you.”

They sit there again not knowing what to do. Then Kelly pipes up. “So does that mean our feud is over?”

“Yeah it’s over.”

“What do we do now.”

“N

Em grabs his phone and texts Paul. Next thing they know Paul walks in. “Now that that is out of the way, we can call this beef over. I will set something up for the press.”

The details are hashed out. Kelly is going to open up for Em later this year, and neither one is going to sing their diss tracks of each other. Kelly does get to keep the moniker ‘Rap Devil’, to Paul’s disdain. Em thinks it’s funny (read cute).

Everyone parts ways.

Hailie links with her dad’s arm as they go down the hallway.

“The way you were picking on him, almost felt like you were doing it to get his attention.”

Em blushes as the statement.

“OMG you do think he is cute, that’s why you don’t want to give up this beef.”

“No I don’t. He’s an asshole who needed to be taught a lesson.”

“Okay Dad whatever you say.”

She hurries on head, but turns and gives her dad a wink. A new plan in mind.

#emgk

[shadowtarot]

CHM: I am just using Sho as a Red Herring/Living Inciting incident FYI. Maybe he contacts Ryuji again, following a fight possibly, he tells him to tell his leader (how he knows about Ren in Inaba? who knows.) to go to Junes and stick his hand in the big TV in the Elec. Dept. just avoid the mascot and manager (Yosuke). Sho is just causing stuff for shits and giggles. Plus it’s a way to rope in P4.

Chariot's Mystery Part 18

Following that fiasco in the messed up Metaverse, Ryuji's been on edge. Despite the fact that Ren gave that threat to Kirijo, they now had to capture Sho as a show of faith. Or as it actually was, work with Sho to try and further expose Kirijo. That meant that he was bait for the red-haired manic. His mind goes back to the conversation that happened directly after school that day: "ARE YOU INSANE?!" Zenkichi says in the video call. "Sending Ryuji on his own to lure him is suicide. I had a first hand experience with him, and despite his looks he could easily break my damn sword if he wanted. At least...that's what I could tell at least." The Trio were in the warehouse again, given it was the only safe spot at the moment to discuss these things. "Buuut, we don't want to send you and Doc out there. You're both Newbs! Sure you've had a little experience in combat, but Ryuji's had his Persona longer than most of us! ...excluding Mona." Futaba plays with a Jaggriko in her hand as Yusuke sketches in the background. "Well I'm at least gonna stay on standby, I'm not about to let this get deadly if simple discussion goes south." Zenkichi folds his arms, looking at everyone seriously. Sophia's tiny icon bounces on the screen. "I can try to look up information on him while we do these dealings. Perhaps find any report of crimnal history?" Makoto nods. "That sounds good. Now Ryuji, Ren showed you how to make Thief Tools during our roundtrip right? We don't know Sho's elemental affinity...if he even has one. I'd make a few elemental rounds for each element. Just to be safe."

"Right." Ryuji nods, glancing over at the spare set of tools Ren gave him. Suddenly, Ryuji's phone alarm goes off. It was time for him to start heading down that same alley way as before. Zenkichi and Maruki were watching from a safe distance. All Ryuji needed to do was get Sho's cooperation. And as if on cue, Sho appears. "Seriously? The same damn alleyway? You're not supposed to be predictable in your line of work, dumbass." Sho's getting dangerously close, but Ryuji's hand is firmly in his pocket, thumb hovering over the Broken Metanav. He doesn't say a word as he activates it, dragging Sho into the Metaverse with him. Taking a deep breath as Skull opens his eyes to the glitchy Metaverse, he draws his weapon. "Sho, yeah? Look we both hate Kirijo, but we need a way to get closer in to dig more dirt on 'em so-" But Sho's already drawn one sword, pointing it at Skull's neck. "Blah blah blah. I'll listen to whatever the hell you got, but I ain't listing to SHIT until you fight me." Now that there wasn't several Persona users around him, Skull could better judge Sho's aura. There was no way in hell he'd win in a fair fight. Good thing he wasn't planning on fighting fair.

I gotta fight him just enough to figure out his weaknesses. Time to make him show his hand!

Skull charges at Sho, not even summoning William, choosing instead to just strike at him with his club. Sho just casually blocks it with his short sword, drawing his full length and striking him hard with the blunt end. "Did you seriously already forget how I was armed? Or are you really as much of a dumbass as I had you pegged for?" Sho mocks charging at Ryuji while he's stunned. He was fast, too fast to react to. But he needed to space himself somehow! Skull begins to scan the buildings, looking for a safe path to jump and scale. Unfortunately, while a path was found...a Curse attack had already hit him the moment he took his eyes off Sho. "Gah!" Ryuji winces. Curse didn't do a whole lot to him, but at least he could hopefully figure out his weakness now that he knows his affinity. Moving fast, a Bless Round is loaded into his shotgun as he aims...but looking down past the barrel...he sees Sho yawn as he puts his weapons away. "You space out in combat, then point a gun at me? Come on...at least make it interesting. Look, if your goal was to bore me with piss poor fighting you did it. Congrats, loser." Sho leans up against a wall though goes back to standing up once he notices the wall cease to exist. "Your group has a leader, and I know pretty damn well that none of you three bozos are it. Nooo, you gotta be special beyond special to lead a group. At least that's what those damn people in blue seemed to imply...." Sho mutters to himself. "Give me a way to contact him." Putting the shotgun away, Skull stares right at Sho. "You'll be contacting Joker in that case. I can't give you direct contact, but we have a sorta...uh...secure network we use to relay information and-" "And? You need an access point to ping me, yeah? Here." Sho takes out a slip of paper. The stuff written on it is foreign to Ryuji, but all he can gather is...Sho was already prepared for this. This might be why Kirijo counts him as dangerous. Three Hours following this exchange, Futaba is getting the link all set up for Ren. "Is it illegal to hack someone if they've given consent, Zenkichi-san?" Haru asks as the team has one last meeting. "If permission was granted, it'd be the same as hotwiring someone's car to save their life, yes? The act is frowned upon, but if there's no bad intent then it shouldn't have issues." Yusuke interjects. "Hey-let me at least answer the question!" Zenkichi sighs. Everyone laughs, only for Futaba to suddenly cheer. "Everything's all set up, Ren! Now whenever you use that access point we've been using to contact someone outside of the team on your cell...the voice filter should still work."

"Great. I'll be contacting him solo. I'll try to get any intel out of him I can." Ren nods. "I'll talk to you guys tomorrow with what I got." Once the team logged off, Ren contacts Sho. "So you actually called, huh? Guess you guys do some things right after all." Sho's snark can be felt on the other end of the line. "Joker right? Why are you guys so hellbent on contacting me for?" "We want to strike a deal with you. We need an in to get on Kirijo's good side and expose what they have done in better detail. But to do this, we need your help. You know a lot about the group, correct?" Ren choses his words carefully.

"...yeah I do. Hell, they hide so many damn secrets, it's clear they're planning SOMETHING. Did your little data dig give you info about the TVs?" Sho's question is sudden.

"TVs?"

"Yeah. In a small town called Inaba, there's a TV in the local Junes that never gets sold. They use it as a normal TV for customers. But...if you touch that TV, something strange happens. No one in the town knows about it, so it's 100% a cover up." Sho's smirking on the other end of the line. "Confirm that rumor for me, yeah? ...and don't let the bear or the brunette see you."

Sho suddenly hangs up at that point. "TV in Junes. ...there is that outdated TV in the home appliances section." Checking the time, Ren makes his way to Junes. He had a few hours before they closed, should be enough time to see if it was BS or not. The store's huge, weaving and maneuvering around different isles until he finally reaches that section. "Hm...so if I touch it..." Ren says quietly, extending his hand to the screen only to see it ripple like water. "That movement....it's not dissimilar to how the Meta Nav takes you in. ...can I stick my hand in it...?" The moment he does, however...two pairs of eyes have already locked on to what he's doing. He forgot to heed the warning....

#compendium #chariot's mystery

[heartbeatan]

Damned Royalty (Chapter 4)

Return to Chapter 3.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Desperado Series.

Return to Jimin Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 4

You stepped out of the club and Jimin was right behind you.

“My car is ready,” he said, but you ignored him and turned right and started walking down the street. He was stunned for a moment, but then waved his driver off and in a few long strides caught up to you.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’m hungry. Someone called me during my lunch break, so I didn’t get to eat,” you replied as you threw him a side eye.

Minutes later, you were seated on the patio of a small restaurant looking over the menu. Jimin looked the place over with a barely noticeable scowl across his face. This wasn’t the type of “luxury” he was used too.

“I was going to take you somewhere nice,” he said as he eyed the plastic tablecloths and dollar store candle holders.

“No need. This place is nice,” you replied, ignoring his pretentiousness and continuing to look over the menu. “What are you going to get.”

“I’m afraid to try the salmon.”

“Get it. Trust me. You’ll be safe.”

His lips formed a thin line, but in the end, he ordered a bowl of pasta instead. You decided on the salmon.

Some time later, you were overlooking two empty plates and a half-eaten basket of bread. You were stuffed.

“Can I get you two anything else?” the waiter asked as he cleared away the plates.

“A bottle of Chardonnay, please,” Jimin replied before you had the chance to say ‘no.’

“It’s Monday night.”

“I’ll give you tomorrow off if things get too crazy,” he winked. You bit down on your tongue to try to prevent yourself from another uncontrollable blush. God, why did he have this hold over you?

“It was good, right?” you redirected him back to the food.

“Yeah, actually. I’m surprised.”

“Great. Because I have good news for you.”

“What’s that?”

“The chef. He’s Cordon Bleu educated and he’s feeling… restless, let’s say with his current position.”

“You brought me here to talk about business?”

“Why else do you think I’m spending time with you?” you fired back. Jimin fiddled idly with his wine glass and shot you a crooked smirk. “Anyway, he’s looking for a new endeavour. Somewhere where the restaurant owner will give him a little more creative freedom. Something a little higher end. If you play your cards right, we might be able to head-hunt him and have him lead your new restaurant.”

“You’re persistent.”

“I told you, Jimin, I’m busy. I’m a business woman. I don’t have time for anything else.” His eyes flitted up and down you quickly, and he smirked again. It seemed he found everything you said to be somehow suggestive.

“Stop that,” you sighed.

“Stop what?”

“You know what. This is just business, Jimin. Nothing else.”

“I don’t want it to be just business between us.”

“Why? You hardly know me.”

“Then tell me about yourself,” he leaned in across the table. You unconsciously sat back in your chair, as if he was getting to close to you. “We should get to know each other regardless.”

“Why did you send me flowers?”

“Because I’m courting you.”

“Ha!” you scoffed. “Courting? You have a funny way of doing that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, one minute you’re sending me flowers, and the next minute I have to wait outside your door while you have sex with someone else,” you didn’t mean to get heated, but you felt your face get hot as you confronted him.

“So, you were jealous,” he laughed.

“I’m not jealous.”

“It’s okay, princess. I want you to be. Now you know how I felt when you left with that guy on Friday.”

“That guy is my boyfriend, Jimin.”

“Just the same. I didn’t like seeing your tongue down his throat.”

You went quiet. You didn’t know how to compete with what Jimin was saying. He was shamelessly wanting for you, to the point you couldn’t even pretend as if you didn’t notice. Luckily for you, the waiter returned with the bottle of Chardonnay, and despite it being a Monday night, you decided a couple glasses was the best way to take off the edge.

“Can we please talk about something else?” you sneered.

“I want to know what you do for fun.”

“I work. I like work. I’m boring like that.”

“I like working too, but there has to be something else you do.”

“Well, what do you do?”

“Sex.”

“Besides that.”

“I’ll show you once we’re done here.”

You looked at your watch. It was nearly ten o’clock.

“I don’t know, Jimin. It’s late.”

“I’ll be sure to pay you back for your time. Aren’t you the least bit curious anyway?”

Despite trying to stave off Jimin’s advances, a big part of you didn’t want to leave – leave him. He was just so captivating. “Fine,” you said curtly, pretending as if you weren’t all that interested.

“Then let’s go,” he suddenly pulled out his wallet and stood up. He dropped an obscene amount of money on the table then reached down and grabbed your hand. You tried to shake him off, but he had a tight grip on you, and you soon found yourself being pulled by him out of the patio and back down the street.

A couple blocks and you pulled up to a hole in the wall type place. You were a bit surprised. You didn’t know what to expect, but given Jimin’s aura of luxury, you expected to be dragged to some sort of gold trimmed, champagne pouring establishment of sorts. Instead, you crossed the threshold of the stained and battered doorway and found yourself in what resembled a game room for adults. Or a bar? Perhaps both. You weren’t quite sure. Jimin led you across the sticky floor to the back of the room, where he pulled back a curtain an revealed a litter of people seated around a card table.

“Jimin!” several of the men and women greeted you. Jimin smiled – the first time you think you saw him really smile – back at the group.

These must be his friends, you thought. Again, you were a bit surprised. They weren’t a debonair bunch like you had expected. Whereas some were clearly straight from the office as their undone ties and suit jackets described, a few others wore beer case shirts and worn out denim.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Y/N,” he nodded to you. You realized then that you were still holding his hand. You quickly let it go, now embarrassed to be doing so in front of a bunch of strangers. The room greeted you warmly, then one of the women pulled up a chair beside her.

“Come. Sit here,” she patted the seat, ushering you over to her. You did, leaving Jimin to pull up a seat across the table from you. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders then began loosening his tie and cuffs. A waiter sauntered over to him and Jimin whispered something to him. A few moments later, two aviations arrived – one for yourself and one for him.

“Looks like I might be calling in sick tomorrow,” you quipped, and the room chuckled. “So, what are we playing?”

“Holdem,” a rather burly man sitting to your right informed you.

“Do you play?” Jimin asked as he rolled up his sleeves.

Your inner consciousness smirked deviously. You didn’t know these people, and they didn’t know you. Therefore, they didn’t know your skill level.

“Oh. Just a little bit,” you lied.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll help you. The first thing you need to know is that it’s not important what your cards are. The key is knowing how to read people.”

“And I take it you see yourself as an expert?” you mocked him.

“You see that chalkboard over there?” You looked to where he was pointing. At the top was written his name and beside it, was a number. $205,839,454. “You’re looking at the long-standing champion.”

“It’s because he cheats,” piped up another man. “And everyone is afraid to cross him.”

“Gord is just jealous because I took his Ferrari last weekend.”

“Oh? I thought we played for money?” you questioned.

“We play for whatever you want to play for, babe,” Jimin winked. “Just tell me what you want from me?”

You thought for a long moment. What could you ask him for? What could you possibly want from a man like Jimin that he would be willing to bet?

“If I win, I want you to give Gord’s Ferrari back.”

“Oooo,” the table collectively awed. Jimin’s smirk returned, a certain level of arrogance behind it.

“Done. And if I win, you and I get to take her for a little ride.” Your insides jolted at the implication. Surely a quiet, country road trip wasn’t what Park Jimin had in mind. Nonetheless, with a flirtatious wink of your own, you agreed.

“Done.”

“Alright, then. Deal ‘em up,” Jimin gestured to the dealer.

 

Hours later, the table of nine was reduced to just two… you and Jimin. Your chips evenly matched, you could tell the table was more than impressed by your “beginners luck” as they so called it. Jimin didn’t waiver. In fact, if anything he seemed more confident than ever. He played mindlessly with his stack of chips as his eyes stared into you, a grin still threatening his lips. You remained as stoic as possible. Your arms crossed in front of your chest as you stared him back, save for the moments when you sipped on your third martini. You were waiting patiently for Jimin to make his next move, and he was doing his best to wear you down and get you to reveal something.

“Your tits look fucking great, by the way,” he finally said. Perhaps under any other circumstance, you would have scolded him – but so many drinks in and a lot of fun later, you decided instead to lean forward, resting your elbow on the table and let Jimin get a good, long view of what lay down your shirt. You smiled a devious smile back at him as you did, and he shamelessly let his eyes wander beyond the cotton neckline. “What have you got there, princess?”

“You’ll have to pay up to find out, Mr. Park.” His eyes flashed back up to yours. He knew you were calling him that to try to get to him. He seemed to either love it or hate it. Either way you didn’t care.

“I’m all in,” he said as he flipped his hand over, revealing a full house, Queens and Jacks.

The table awed again, and Gord brushed his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Oh,” you contorted your lips in a bitter defeat. But then, your lips curved into a wicked grin and you looked back up to Jimin. “Mr. Park,” you put on your best patronizing tone. “You have a really, really good hand.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. The room around you fell silent.

“But…” you flipped your hand onto the table. “I’m afraid that it’s just not good enough.”

“Ahhh!” the room erupted into a cheer. There lay, four of a kind, aces high, your winning hand of poker.

“You see, Jimin,” you stood up from your seat and began raking in all his chips to your side of the table. “It’s about reading people,” you smiled triumphantly. Jimin rubbed the back of his neck and threw his head back. He smiled in defeat as his friends began rubbing his shoulders and teasing him about his loss. An elated Doug twiddled his fingers in a “gimme gimme” motion in front of Jimin’s face. Eventually, Jimin pulled out of his pocket the keys to – presumably – the Ferrari.

“I didn’t even get to drive it,” he lamented as he did.

 

After the room cleared, and most of Jimin’s friends left the bar, Jimin led you back into the main game room, which had quieted down dramatically. You checked your watch again; it was nearly one in the morning.

“I should call a cab,” you said haphazardly.

“Not yet.”

“Seriously, I need to work tomorrow.”

“One more game. Your choice. Then I’ll have my driver take you home.”

“I don’t know, Ji…”

“I promise. Just one more. You and me.”

You sighed, but you found yourself looking across the room regardless until your eyes landed on an empty pool table.

“One round,” you said as you nodded to the table. Jimin placed his hand to the small of your back and guided you across the floor towards the table.

The game, overall, was a lot of fun. Perhaps it was the fifth martini that had you loosened up and feeling less inhibited, but you were starting to really enjoy your conversation with Jimin. Turns out, sex and tormenting you weren’t the only things he enjoyed doing. He apparently was a fantastic cook – or so he alleged – which was part of why he wanted to start a restaurant of his own. He also was a collector of fine art and had an impressive assemblage which he promised he’d show you the next time you met up “for business.”

Perhaps it was the way he watched you all night. Perhaps it was the way he prodded you. Perhaps it was his errant touches, to your arm, your back, your hip as he brushed by you at the table – but by the near end of the game, he had you wound so tightly around his finger you were sure that your panties were damp and that you had told him the entirety of your life. He had somehow pulled from you more than you shared with acquaintances and friends. But you didn’t regret it. You rationalized you needed to tell him, you needed to play with him, you needed to let him touch you.

“Final shot,” Jimin’s voice broke you from your tipsy thoughts. You looked down to the table. He had only the eight-ball left to sink, but, fortunately for you, it was well hidden by your last stripe.

“Call the pocket,” you said.

“Top-right,” he replied.

“No way,” you scoffed. It was a near impossible shot.

“You don’t think I can do it, princess?”

“You’re good, Park, but you’re not that good.”

“Why don’t we raise the stakes then?” he stepped towards you and got in your space. You didn’t step away though this time. You had become too accustomed to his ways, and to be honest, you kind of liked it. Instead, you smirked back up at him as you took a sip of your drink.

“What did you have in mind?”

“If I win this game, I get you. One night. Naked. Blindfolded, and tied to my bed while my tongues between your thighs.”

You almost spit out your drink. You weren’t sure if it was the boldness of his gesture or the image that flashed in your mind when he said it.

“I was more thinking that the loser buys the next round,” you replied.

He laughed.

“C’mon. If you’re so confident that I can’t make it, then it doesn’t matter what I want.”

You should have said “no.” But you didn’t. You should have cancelled the bet – but you didn’t do that either. Instead, you scanned the table and the placement of the ball, turned to him and said, “Fine.” Jimin’s grin only widened in yet another display of arrogance.

He turned to the table and you watched him – your heart began to pound in your chest. Surely, he wouldn’t make the shot.

Snap, went the sound of the cue against resin. The cue ball jumped into the air and over your stripe. It dropped on the other side of the table, and, with a small curl, hit the eight-ball. You watched as it slowly rolled across the table and with a deafening clunk, landed square in the pocket. Your mouth fell open in shock and amazement.

“There you have it, princess.”

 

You swallowed hard as Jimin put his hand to your hip as he led you out of the bar. The feeling of his hands on you terrified you, but at the same time set your body ablaze.

I can’t do this, you thought to yourself. You thought about Jinhyun. You thought about your friends. Your father. You thought about who Jimin really was. There were so many reasons to not go through with it, not go through with the bet – but despite them, you kept walking.

Jimin led you out the back door of the bar which led to the alleyway. He must’ve called his driver because a car was waiting at the end of the corridor. You stepped into the night and Jimin took your hand, interlacing his fingers between yours, he walked you towards the car. Your head and your heart began to pound, your body began to burn, and your knees began to shake. As much as you wanted it, were you really going through with this?

“Jimin!” you stopped in your tracks. He stopped too and turned to find you wide eyed and panicked. “I… I can’t do this.”

Jimin exhaled, then stepped forward, closing the space between you. You looked up at him, afraid of what he might say next.

“I know, princess.”

“It’s just…”

“It’s because of him.”

You nodded. “It wouldn’t be right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Never apologize to me. You do as you want, regardless of what everyone else wants.”

“That’s the problem. I want to. I do. You know that,” you reached for the lapels of this suit, but dropped your hands before you could grab them and pull him in.

“Don’t worry, princess. One day you’ll want me to collect on our bet. When I do, I’ll make sure it was worthwhile.”

You smiled and chuckled softly. It was refreshing to be totally honest with someone – even if that someone was Jimin.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Just… when you smile. Really smile for me,” he put his hand over his chest. You couldn’t help but blush as your grin widened for him.

“Thank-you,” you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Let’s get you home,” he said as he took you by the hand once more and led you towards the car.

Once again, however, your heart began to pound uncomfortably, and your skin began to crawl. The night – this night – was over. But you didn’t want it to be.

“Jimin,” you called to him again. He turned to look at you and that’s when, flinging your arms around his neck, you crashed your lips against his and kissed him.

#bts smut #jimin imagine #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n

[misc-headcanons]

Could you do a scenario where Bakugou's girlfriend meets his parents for the first time?

(So I’ve never written Bakugo before and getting his character down was a fun challenge. Hopefully this isn’t too OOC!)

“So…you’re seriously okay with this?” ____ asked incredulously. “Me meeting your parents?”

Bakugo scowled and shifted in his seat on the common room’s couch. “That’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re going steady and shit, right? You’re gonna see ‘em at some point anyway,” he grumbled. He absentmindedly tugged on the hem of his shirt. “Besides, my mom won’t shut up about wanting to meet you.”

____ smirked and reached over to pinch her boyfriend’s cheek; by Bakugo standards, he was actually being sort of…sweet. She knew he couldn’t just come out and say that they were officially an item, but the casual way he just mentioned that they were going steady was the next best thing. And of course, he just had to bury that tenderness underneath a few dismissive and coarse comments. “Aww,” ____ cooed playfully, “Your mommy wants to meet your new widdle girlfriend?”

Bakugo squirmed away from her and rubbed the fresh pink spot on his cheek. “Fuck, you’re worse than my grandma,” he whined, trying to massage his sore face. He crossed his arms and looked at her. “Look, it’s just gonna be dinner. You don’t have to dress up or anything, whatever you wear’ll be fine. If they say anything about it, I’ll just tell ‘em to fuck off. And don’t think you need to impress them, either. Just be…” He shrugged and shifted his weight. “Just be you. They’ll like you. I mean, I like you, and I hate everyone.” His gaze drifted down, and he wasn’t sure where he really should look. He wasn’t used to telling people he liked them, mainly because he didn’t really like…anyone, really. But ____ wasn’t some random loser, she was…well, ____! She didn’t get pissed whenever he said something without thinking how it’d come out, and he actually tried to consider her feelings sometimes (which was a very foreign concept). 

Bakugo’s cheeks weren’t the only ones that were pink now. After a few months of dating, ____ was fluent in “Bakugo-ese” and she could see right through his typical blustery outbursts to what he was really trying to say. Being tender and vulnerable wasn’t really his thing, but he really was trying to give her a decent compliment. She kissed his cheek where she’d pinched it. “Thanks, Bakugo,” she said with a warm smile. “Just let me know when I should head over to your house tomorrow and text me the address.”

Bakugo scoffed. “No way! I’m taking you there myself,” he protested. “You’re fuckin’ terrible with directions. We’ll just leave here together.”

“Oh, c’mon,” ____ sighed, “Your parents are only a few blocks away!”

“Yeah,” Bakugo said with a smirk, “And you’ll find a way to get lost on the way there. We could be next-door neighbors and you’d still have no idea where to go.”

____ laughed and gently punched her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Fine, asshole,” she replied with a sheepish smile. Okay, so maybe she did have no sense of direction; even though she’d been at UA for months, she still had trouble finding her way to classes every day. She headed up the stairs to her dorm room and gave Bakugo a small wave. “See you tomorrow then.” She paused and cocked her head, and Bakugo raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the problem?”

____ flashed him a cheeky grin. “Could you help me find my way to my room? I don’t wanna get lost…”

“IT’S THE FIRST ROOM ON THE TOP FLOOR! How the fuck did you even get into this school!?

____ snorted. “I was joking, you dick.”

“Could’ve fooled me!”

The next day, Bakugo was spending the entire morning pacing in his room. He’d meant to go upstairs and get ____ twenty minutes ago, but there was something keeping him from just getting up and leaving his room. He pulled on the sleeves of his t-shirt and grabbed the doorknob to leave. Why the fuck am I so nervous? She’s just meeting Mom and Dad, and it’s not like I care if they like her or not; if Mom doesn’t like her after all that nagging at me to meet her, it’s her own damn fault! 

He felt his phone buzz and he took it out of his pocket. He was expecting it to be ____, wondering what was taking him so long, but it was actually from his mother.

Old Hag: You two on your way, or are you two lovebirds still making out? :3

Bakugo: WE’RE NOT MAKING OUT, YOU FREAK

WHAT KIND OF GROWN ASS WOMAN USES EMOJIS

Old Hag: Calm down, it was just a joke. You know girls don’t think popped blood vessels and yelling all the time are attractive right :P

Bakugo: I’M NOT DOING IT TO BE ATTRACTIVE I’M DOING IT BECAUSE YOU’RE CONSTANTLY PISSING ME OFF

BE THERE IN HALF AN HOUR

Old Hag: See you soon :3

Bakugo: STOP DOING THAT

Old Hag: Doing what? :3c

:3c

:3c

Bakugo growled and shoved his phone in his pocket, and he quickly slipped on a pair of old sneakers before throwing his door open. When he saw ____ standing outside his room, he blinked. “Oh, you’re here.” He looked her up and down, eyeing her outfit. Despite telling her not to worry about impressing anyone, she was clearly dolled up a bit compared to her usual torn jeans and ratty t-shirt: She was wearing a fresh-out-of-the-laundry tank top and one of Bakugo’s jackets that he’d left in her room a few days earlier, and her hair was done up in a naturally-tousled, “I totally didn’t spend half an hour getting it to look like I woke up like this” look. She smelled faintly of one of her perfumes, the one that Bakugo liked (because it smelled like candy) but also hated (because it made him crave candy). 

____ gave Bakugo a small smile. “You ready to go?”

Bakugo took her by the arm and marched out of the dorms with her. “Tch, I was ready ten minutes ago,” he replied tersely. “C’mon, let’s head to the train station.”

The walk to the station was fairly uneventful, and soon the two of them were on the train. Bakugo slung an arm around ____’s shoulder, and ____ leaned against him; a few older ladies cooed at the two young lovebirds, and Bakugo promptly gave them a death glare to get them to leave him alone. They awkwardly shuffled away, and ____ chuckled. Bakugo felt his cheeks warm up at the sound of her laugh, and he tried to rub his cheek to get rid of the warm sensation.

When they arrived at their stop, Bakugo took ____ by the arm and briskly walked with her. ____ raised an eyebrow at all of the physical contact; Bakugo usually hated being affectionate with her in public. “Not that I’m complaining,” she started, “But what’s with you taking me by the arm and holding me on the train?” She smirked. “You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

Bakugo squeezed her arm tighter and walked at a faster pace. “Fuck no,” he replied brusquely. “I’m just makin’ sure you keep up with me and don’t get lost. I’m already hungry and it’d be a pain in the ass if you wandered off and I had to look for you.”

____ rolled her eyes. “Yeah right,” she replied sarcastically, “If I got lost, you’d just leave me behind and have dinner anyway.” She scrunched up her face and tried to imitate Bakugo’s “pissed off at everything” expression. “ ‘Just eat the scraps you find on the street, stupid! It’s your fault for getting lost, nyehhh!’ ”

Bakugo looked back at her with an annoyed and confused look on his face. “….I’ve never said… ‘Nyehhh…’” The corners of his lips twitched into a smirk. “What the fuck, that’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard!”

____ stuck out her tongue. “ ‘Nyehh, that’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard!’ “ 

Bakugo tried to hide the smile that was forming by walking slightly ahead of her. “You’re so fucking weird,” he remarked, slightly squeezing her hand. ____ gently squeezed his hand back, and they continued walking to his parents’ house.

When they made it to his front door, they stood outside for a moment. “So,” ____ said, “Do we knock, or do you want to send a text that you’re here, or—”

Bakugo promptly kicked the door open. “Oi, we’re here,” he yelled out. “Is the food ready? I’m starving!”

____ stared at the door, then at Bakugo, and then shrugged before following him inside. “Or you could do that,” she muttered. “Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

An older man with dark brown hair and glasses poked his head out from the kitchen. “Oh, Katsuki! There you are,” he greeted. He noticed the person standing behind his son and smiled. “And you must be ____!” He stepped out, revealing that he was wearing a blue polo shirt, tan work pants, and an old apron. “I’m Katsuki’s father, Masaru,” he said, shaking her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

____ returned his handshake. “Thanks, Mr. Bakugo,” she replied kindly. “It’s nice to–”

“SHE’S HEEEERE~!” 

____ turned her head at the sudden new voice and saw a young-looking woman with blonde hair run up to her and wrap her in a bear hug. Bakugo groaned and tried to yank the woman off of his girlfriend. “Mom, you’re gonna fucking kill her! Let go, ya old hag!”

Bakugo’s mother released ____ from her arms and playfully punched her son’s shoulder. “Relax, ya little brat,” she replied, “I’m just so happy ya finally brought a girl home!” She crossed her arms and smirked. “Not sure what the hell she could see in a bratty little hothead like you, though.”

Bakugo glared at her, and ____ looked up at his mother now that she wasn’t buried in her arms. She looked a lot like her son, with spiky blonde hair and crimson eyes. She was dressed more casually than her husband, with some well-worn jeans and a white tank top with a lilac-colored jacket over it. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you, Mrs. Bakugo,” ____ replied, rubbing her sore arms. “You’ve got a really strong grip.”

Bakugo’s mother laughed. “No need to be so formal, hon,” she replied with a sweet smile. “Call me Mitsuki!” She ruffled ____’s hair and grinned. “Man, I can’t believe I finally get to see ya,” she marveled. “I always hoped Katsuki would finally start dating and acting like a normal teenager instead of just blowing shit up and harassing all his classmates.” 

Bakugo glared at his mother. “I CAN DATE ____ AND BLOW SHIT UP,” he replied angrily, “THEY AREN’T MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE, OLD HA–”

Mitsuki lightly swatted the back of her son’s head. “Oi, don’t be so loud,” she yelled. “You’re gonna ruin ____’s hearing, yellin’ like that all the time!” The two of them glared at each other, and Masaru gently put a hand on ____’s shoulder.

“I know she’s joking,” he said offhandedly, “But she may be right about that. A few years after we got married, I started to develop tinnitus…” 

____ smirked. “I’ll be sure to invest in some earplugs then,” she replied. The two of them watched Katsuki and Mitsuki yell at each other for a while. “So, do you usually step in or let them wear each other out?” she asked.

“I’ve got it,” he replied with a reassuring pat on her shoulder. He cupped his hand around his mouth. “Dinner’s ready!”

Instantly, Bakugo and Mitsuki stopped fighting and bounded into the kitchen, bumping each other’s shoulders as they went inside. “Why didn’t ya say so, honey?” Mitsuki stopped to kiss her husband’s cheek and when he smiled at the sudden kiss, ____ noticed that he and Bakugo both had the same little dimple on their mouth. Mitsuki eagerly rubbed her hands together and grabbed a few bowls. “C’mon, let’s eat before it gets cold!”

As the four of them ate a delicious homecooked meal (beef curry with vegetables and egg over rice), ____ quickly warmed up to Bakugo’s family and got to know them better. Mitsuki and Masaru eagerly showed her old family photos of Bakugo, despite his frequent protests. She also talked about how she and Bakugo had met and started dating, and both Mitsuki and Masaru gushed about how sweet the two of them looked together. ____ and Masaru also bonded a bit, since Mitsuki and Bakugo would frequently get into arguments and leave their significant others to their own conversation. 

During one of these arguments, Masaru cleared up the dishes and gently laid a hand on ____’s shoulder. “I’m really happy we finally got to meet you,” he said with a kind smile. “I know Katsuki can be…” He glanced at his son, who was red-faced and in the middle of calling Mitsuki a nosey old hag. “Well, he can be prickly and abrasive sometimes, even to people he cares about. I’m just glad he found someone who can see through that side of him.”

____ smiled. “I know what you mean, Mr. Bakugo,” she replied. “I mean, yeah, he’s kind of an assh– er,” she cleared her throat. “A jerk sometimes. Or, well, most of the time. But he makes me happy, and I think I make him happy. He’s actually sweet sometimes, and I feel like he’s less abrasive and stuff now compared to when he was just by himself.”

Masaru nodded. “I agree,” he said. He glanced back at his wife and son with a nostalgic smile. “Usually they’d get into arguments and just go at it for almost an hour, even when I tried to rein him in and get him to focus on something else. But with you here, he actually listens to you and he’ll stop fighting to talk to you. I can’t remember the last time he’s listened to anyone.” He and ____ shared a laugh, and he rose up to wash their dishes in the kitchen sink. Mitsuki noticed what her husband was doing and grabbed her and Katsuki’s bowls before getting up to take them to the sink as well. 

Once the two of them were alone, ____ called over to her boyfriend.

“Hey, Bakugo.”

Bakugo immediately turned his head and forgot what he was about to yell in his mother’s face. “Yeah?”

____ reached over and gently pecked his cheek. “I really like your family,” she replied with a smile. “Thanks for finally letting me come over.”

Bakugo raised his eyebrows. “You do?” he asked incredulously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well…good. They like you too, I think. But even if they didn’t, I’m not gonna stop dating you or anything if they tell me they don’t like you.”

____ rested her head on Bakugo’s shoulder and placed her hand on his underneath the table, and they cuddled for a bit. Mitsuki poked her head out to check on the two of them and quickly pulled her husband by the shirt collar so he could see what he was seeing. “Masaru, look,” she whispered. “He’s being sweet! Aaaah, I think they’re holding hands!”

Masaru looked at the two of them in disbelief, and his face slowly broke into a smile. “It’s about time,” he murmured quietly. “I really think they’ll be great for each other, don’t you, honey?” 

Mitsuki covertly whipped out her cell phone and snapped a few pictures of her son being affectionate with his girlfriend and slipped her phone back in her pocket. “I think you’re right,” she said with a smile. The two of them watched in silence for a little while longer, until a loud voice signaled that they’d been caught.

“WHAT THE FUCK’RE YOU STARING AT!?”

#bakugo #katsuki bakugo #bnha #bnha scenario #bnha scenarios #mine #Anonymous #female s/o

[mavmax]

Strange Love (Part I) | Maverick & Sooyun

When: Tuesday, January 19th

Where: Somewhere in Ocean Park. 

Warnings: Drugs, Alcohol

Featuring: @sooyunjeong​

sooyun felt exhausted keeping up the appearance of Eric's supposed girlfriend, which was probably why she found herself at a party that was being held just to get away from the annoying questions and looks of her stealing Eric away. In her defense, Lexa should have made a move on Eric instead of beating around the bush. But it was sort of her fault for sending that selfie to her through Eric's phone while he was passed out.  She shot back the shot and cringed at the taste, vodka wasn't her strong suit but it was the only drink that she could rely on that wouldn't give her a terrible hangover. After the performance, Sooyun left the band behind and ended up at this party where she knew no one, everyone clearly were far different from her social circle. The young girl leaned against the wall and felt the vibration against her body, maybe she shouldn't have taken those drugs. Opening her eyes and squinting as she recoginize the face and that smile anywhere.     "Maverick Maxwell!" Sooyun yelled out, pointing at him as she pushed herself away from the wall and grinned cheekily, "What are you doing here?"

Maverick knew not to pass up any party invitation in Santa Monica, although this one, he almost considered passing up to shoot some hoops to get his mind off the stress that Lexa practically radiated the whole weekend. He needed to let loose, and so, he called up a few of his college buddies, pre-gamed and smoked a blunt--or three, and now here he was crossfaded as all hell and taking shots as if they were water. He mingled throughout the party, making casual conversation from everything to crazy ragers in the past to a recent performance that Maverick had zero clue about, but was bummed out that he missed. He always liked local bands performing. As he made his way to grab himself some snacks from the back, he heard a voice that made his whole body whip around. "Well, well, well, what do we have here!" Maverick smiled making his way over to none other than Soo-yun. "The host invited me and a few of the boys. What're you doing here?"

"I got invited as well," she shrugged her shoulders, she don't even remember who it was that dragged her here but they left her behind as she wander off and made friends left and right. "At least now I know someone around here, I kept getting asked questions and I never know how to hold a decent conversation before running away." Sooyun tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and grinned, "Did you go to the concert? If so, I didn't see you, I can't even see when I am on stage so there's that." Someone tapped her shoulder as they passed by to wave, in turn, she waved back unaware on who they were due to the fact half the time she doesn't even remember their names, might've been one of the parties she went too in the past. "There's talk of the after after party--who knew people can party for so long."

"Damn, looks like you roll deep around here. Small ass world," He chuckled. With Santa Monica being as big as it is, there was no surprise that people's circles would often intermingle, if they played their cards right of course. "I mean shit, that's what I'm saying cause my boys all disappeared within the first hour and shit. And honestly, conversations can be weird. I like to keep 'em light, talk about different parties, ixnay on politics, spot another person, wave and respectfully dip," He explained with a wry grin. "Wait, there was a concert? Shit...no, I didn't go. Had I known, I definitely would've gone. It's been a while since I've seen local bands play with basketball and shit," He responded honestly. She effortlessly mingled well with people and Maverick had to admit he was pretty impressed, well--he wouldn't mention that now with the haze settling upon him. "That's what I was hearing too! Like damn, you guys really want to party til the break of dawn, huh? Pretty fuckin' wild," He laughed. "Are you going to the after after party?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah there was, it wasn't planned but they needed a band to cover and I figured why the hell not, so hence here I am. Lost my band mates but it's fine, good thing a thing called Lyft is available incase I have to somehow hobble my ass home or sleep with someone." She said out loud, the downside of being intoxicated it appeared the things she normally kept shut was coming to surface, "But on another note, I might...I really don't want to go home and I really don't want to answer any more questions about Eric." Sooyun didn't mind questions about herself but when it came to the supposed relationship, she couldn't come up with anymore lies and the fact Eric wasn't helping by shutting out the world in his dream state, Sooyun was left to deal with the domino affect and dodge questions left and right. She quickly grabbed a plastic red cup and started mixing her own drink, something that would numb the stress. "Also you should go bug Eric sometime...he is practically sleeping his life away at this point."

"Ahhhh, okay. Makes sense. Impromptu gigs are the shit. You show up, surprise the audience, do your thing and wow everyone. I mean, that's what's up, you know? As for the rest of your evening, well, there's a bunch of hotties to go around, so..." Mav chuckled as he looked around at the word "hotties". Last thing he needed was to take a drunken L, least he could do was pretend to be slightly uninterested compared to his sober self, although his sober self was currently taking notes now. "Well, you could either hide out at the next party and scope out to see where there'll be less people or wind up at Onyx?" He added with a shrug. He managed to block out the mention of Eric, probably because he eyed the bottle of tequila and as much as he hated the taste, here he was, reaching over for it, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig from it. Future him is going to hate himself tomorrow. At the mention of Eric again, he chuckled at the thought of him sleeping. "Homeboy sleeps like a bear. Plus, his phone's prolly on DND. I'd say Lexa could get to him, but she's been busy with CEO business and shit. When he wakes up though, we'll prolly go get some gimbap or something."

She knew mention Eric was a low blow, she seen those posts on GG, she didn't think Maverick would actually be that interested in her after the many times she shot him down. She figured that he would move on with ease or maybe she just assumed all that due to her ex who in a way was similar to Maverick but standing here before him, realizing they were completely different sure they shared the confidence of flirting but now Sooyun was able to see that Maverick wasn't anything like her ex. "Yeah he does, which I was surprised but hey...everyone has their niche." Sooyun shrugged, her eyes widening at Maverick drinking the tequila, "Uh...you really think that's a good idea? Tequila doesn't sit well with most people. Not that I should be telling you how to act but I really don't want to drag you out of here, I may act strong but I have no muscles."

While the mention of Eric and Sooyun sucked for the time being, he was able to bounce back fairly quickly, as if he were unscathed. The one thing that's swirled in his mind is that Sooyun's rejected his advances prior anyways, so at the end of the day, the sting lessened. However, he was definitely confused as hell now that Sooyun seemed happy to be conversing with him at the moment. It almost gave him some sort of hope. "I'm pretty sure he can sleep through a tsunami warning at this point. I envy his sleeping pattern, that's for sure," He admitted with a laugh. It would be the only envy he'd admit out loud given his state, too. "Oh this? It went down pretty smoothly, so y'know, that won't be too bad. I was gonna grab some food anyways so the effects of the tequila won't hit too hard," He reassured her with a laugh. "You game to grab some food too?" He offered cautiously.

The mention of food made her realize she hasn't even eaten dinner nor lunch, all the nerves enabling her to eat a decent meal without puking. "Depends...are you going to hunt through said kitchen or are we going to grab an uber because I don't know about you...but now after seeing you take that tequila like a champ, I want to one you up on shots." Sooyun knew that this was a terrible choice especially now she realizes she's drinking on an empty stomach but the fact she was high and about to be even more intoxicated, it just didn't mesh well from the first time around she done this. "Let's see...how about...four shots, make it even. Four for you and four for me...make a toast or whatever." She waved her hand as she grabbed mini plastic shot glasses and grabbed the tequila from Maverick, pouring them the shots and set it between them. "Oh we can even spice it up...if you can't take a shot, you have to make a confession. So...eight shots." That math didn't make any sense but at this point, Sooyun didn't care.

"Yeah, I was gonna check the kitchen first and if there wasn't shit, then we'd grab and Uber and go wherever we felt like eating at,"he shrugged. "You really want to challenge me to shots?" He asked, a devious smirk curling on his lips. Maverick knew very damn well that he was playing with fire at this point. Sure, he took a swig without wincing or making a face, but this was about to be torture...but the thing about Maverick Maxwell was that he never backed down from a challenge, especially from someone as gorgeous as Sooyun. "Bet, you're on," He said with a nod. His crossfaded mind tried to do the math in his head as best as he could. Eight shots between the both of them was bound to fuck them up. "Like truth or dare? Okay, I see the vision here," He said as he watched Sooyun pouring the tequila into each of the shot glasses. Taking one of the shots and handing Sooyun hers, he smirked. "Bottoms up," and threw the first shot back.

Sooyun knew she was about to die, almost like her body knew what she was about to be put into the next day, she tried to pay much mind to it as she squeezed her eyes tightly together and threw the shot back. Cringing as the taste went down smoothly, with a burning trail as a reminder for what she was doing to herself. "Jesus...I swear tequila never gets any easier," she mumbled to herself and wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, looking up at Maverick and laughed, "Another? Or do you want to use one of your truth or dares already?" She teased him, flipping the shot glass upside down onto the table, the sound around them muffled as her attention was solely on Maverick. To think she managed to hide her attraction to him sober but now that sobriety was out the window, it was as if she was a whole different person.

It was official that both he and Sooyun signed their death sentences tonight. Tomorrow was going to be incredibly brutal and he was already mentally blocking out his hangover stage because it was going to be a bitch. The taste of the tequila was smooth but the familiar back of the throat burn was what nearly threw him off, he had to silently smile at his poker face behind it. "No going back now. Despite the back of the throat burn," He teased with a laugh. He met Sooyun's gaze again and nodded. "You're not getting me that easy," he responded with an eyebrow wiggle as he set down his shot glass upside down. He liked that it was just them two playing their own little game, drowning out the rest of the world with just them and tequila. It was beginning to get harder to pretend that he wasn't as interested in her, but that would be a problem for later Maverick. He took his own shot again, throwing it back with a smirk and flipping his upside down. "Just like water," he bragged with a laugh.

"Here I thought you would be weak," she laughed, making a mental note to drink water before she passes out later, but she doubt she would even remember that simple task. "Another then," she grinned as she reached for the second glass and held his out towards him, flashing him a flirtatious smirk, raising the glass and throwing it back, coughing at the burning taste. Sooyun realized the next round she might have to use one of her own truth or dare at this point, especially because she wasn't taking a break between each shots and the thing about tequila, it was worse than vodka, it will creep up and bite her in the ass. She just hoped no one would report what they see tonight towards GG, it was hard enough to not slip up when she was out in public with Eric, she also knew it was hard for him which was why he stayed home and kept his phone on DND to avoid confrontation.

"You severely underestimate me, Soo," He winked, the flirtation slowly creeping back in on him as much as his sober self tried to reign it back in. At this point, all bets were off. Although, he was beginning to think that the impulsive Gatorade vibe would save his life tomorrow morning. At the second shot, the burn was slightly stronger than the last, a clear warning sign for him to slow the fuck down before things got ugly too soon. When he heard Sooyun's cough, he was relieved. At least now they could truth or dare it out because there was no way both of them in the current states that they were in, that they'd make it out in one piece. He pondered what he could confess about, it had to be something small, yet, somewhat meaningful, but still not enough to scratch the surface. Last thing he needed was to confess he practically shut off all emotion about Sooyun so he could move on quicker. "I guess we're gonna have to use that truth or dare card," He chuckled. "Tequila's getting more bitter by the shot, don't you think?

"More like it's death in each shot I throw back," Sooyun grimaced as she reached for the mix drink she made for herself and took a drink to somehow wash out the taste. Mixing alcohol was probably not the best idea but at the moment it definitely helped. "Okay...I guess since I was the one to tap out, you can ask me the magical words of truth or dare." She caved in, letting Mav take the first round since she practically came up with this stupid game in the first place.

"I'm so glad I wasn't the first to admit that," He teased with a laugh. "You're right though, I'll give you that," Maverick tried not to look at the tequila shots as he tried reaching towards the fruit bowl. Finally, sustenance. Grabbing two apples, he handed one to Sooyun and kept one for himself, taking a bite out of it. "I guess so, huh?" He smirked. "Alright Sooyun, truth or dare," He asked coyly.

Sooyun realized her mistake on the fact she was probably going to have this game backfire in her face now that she could either pick truth and having to say something true from his question or dare where he could possibly have her embarass herself. She rolled her eyes, "Dare...not about to spill any secrets just yet," she giggled, waiting to hear his dare for her.

Maverick took another bite of his apple waiting for Sooyun's response. A big smile graced his features as he knew very damn well she was going to play hard to get in this round. "How'd I know that's what you were going to pick?" He teased with a knowing look. "Okay, I dare you to, take off your bra and use it as a hat now, if you don't have a bra...I'm sorry to say, you might have to use your panties as a hat for the night," He challenged.

gaping at him and his words, she assumed he would choose some silly dare not this sort of dare, laughing lightly, "Now what if I wasn't wearing any panties...then what." Sooyun challenged Maverick, of course she was wearing underwear, she wasn't that adventurous and even if she was, she wouldn't admit to anything unless the person she was sleeping with took her clothes off. "Good thing I wore a bra that is easy to slip off," she rolled her eyes as she placed the apple in her mouth to hold and reached behind to unclip it, doing the whole slipping the bra off and out of her sleeve to pull out a soft pink bra and place on her head. "Gotta make sure not to lose this, you know how much bras cost? Which is ridiculous for a tiny piece of cloth.

He couldn't help but laugh at Sooyun's reaction to his dare. Mav knew he wasn't going to make it that easy for her, after all, it wouldn't be him if it was. "The backup plan was charm someone's shirt off to wear it as a head wrap, but that's pretty mild compared to the original," He explained with a grin. He watched the whole ordeal and the one thing he had to admit was girls really had their own tricks on getting bras off without getting their shirts off. He was going to make a note of what Sooyun did--for science. "Don't worry, with a color that pink, it'll be hard to miss," He teased. "Guess that means it's your turn."

#p:sooyun #para #I cut it into two parts cause it got looong #drugs tw #alcohol tw