Tumgik
#this is way easier to deal w too. it looks cool when it's messy and doesn't rly get in my face
countlessrealities · 8 months
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Send 🖤 and my character will answer about yours || Accepting !
@advnterccs sent:🖤 { For the Ricks ofc fshdjkf }
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Attractiveness
repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words
"I-I could go on a rant a-about how hot and gorgeous my boyfriend is, b-but I'll fuckin' sum it up by saying this. I-If you look at him an-and you don't see that he is t-the most handsome, sexiest, attractive, m-mouth-watering piece of ass you've ever seen in your life, t-then you need new eyes. N-Not glasses, t-they won't fuckin' do. G-Get a new pair of eyes. An-And a new brain with better tastes, w-while you're at it."
Personality
grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible
"W-We...Our personalities are really fuckin' similar an-and I can't say that I-I am the easiest person to deal with. I-I'm the fuckin' opposite. An-And Rick...as much as I'd love to say tha-that he's perfect, he's not. H-He has a lot of shitty traits, almost as many as the good ones...b-but when they don't get between us? E-Even those are enticing on him. S-So...we make it work. An-And knowing each other inside out...i-it makes shit easier, o-on the long term."
Level of friendship
never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend
"R-Rick is my best friend. W-We understand each other in ways n-no one else ever will. W-We are closer than we could ever be w-with anyone. R-Romantically, b-but platonically too. I-I just...I-I trust him. With everything. M-Morty than anyone. E-Even more than myself. I-I trust him with shit I-I wouldn't trust me with. B-Because I know for certain tha-that he'll go to hell and back not to fail me."
First impression of them
i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them
"S-Saying that our forced encounter was messy i-is a fuckin' understatement. W-We were instantly distrustful of each other on principle b-because we were dealing with another Rick. T-Then we found out that we were the same Rick an-and we disliked each other even more. S-Self-loathing and all that shit. Y-Yet...we bonded a little, w-while figuring out how to leave the limbo. An-And the whole gun thing? S-Shit, that was hot. H-He was hot."
Current impression of them
i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them
"I-I've said it a thousand times, s-so I won't go on a rant about this either, b-but...Rick is everything. M-My universe starts and ends w-with him. W-When we are together, a-all matters is us. I-I could have just him in my life f-from not to the end of forever an-and it would be enough. I-I've doubted everything in my life, b-but now I can't even think about doubting him an-and all that he is to me."
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windstrider2017 · 3 years
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I cut my hair today and while I love cutting and styling my own hair, I will always hate having to deal with the fucking clippings afterwards omg
#hair clippings from hell...hello we meet again :(#ugh they get everywhere#and i'm remembering the Hair Splinter From Hell that i stayed up all night trying to remove until i finally got that stupid mf out#i got it out tho#also imo it's worth it. i will happily keep cutting my own hair#i took a bunch off this time so it was a little weird to look in the mirror and see it this short again bc it had grown out a bit#not drastically but enough that this is a bit of a difference for sure#it looked cool before too before it got too overgrown for my liking but meh i always cut it a lot when i think it's time for a haircut#ik i'd probably be a good barber or hairdresser and would lowkey consider it as a job option but#for one thing i would rather not be the one potentially responsible for a haircut somebody doesn't like#if i fuck up my own hair that's smth i'm willing to accept and idc but i wouldn't wanna screw up someone else's#just thinking back to last summer when i first cut my hair and i went v quickly from like.#cutting most of it w the longest possible guard and same length all around...except for the top that i did w scissors#to now i'm cutting hair like a pro and doing a sort of fade each time and purposely doing the top a bit messy bc it looks good that way#i use both scissors and clippers to cut it and tbh it's still somewhat long-ish even after i cut a lot off#my haircutting style is literally a mix of meticulous by-the-book and purposefully sloppy diy and it works great#man people at school next year are gonna be so shocked when they see me and i am here for it#i wish i'd done it sooner cause oh man#i went around looking like THAT when i could have been looking like THIS? omg#this is way easier to deal w too. it looks cool when it's messy and doesn't rly get in my face#i still wear hats a lot just bc i like them but i wore a hat to class so much freshman year#bc my hair was ugh and i didn't want to deal w it or have anyone to see that shit lmao#i finally got the guts and the excuse to cut it last summer when it was so long that it was getting in my face and nobody objected#so...snip snip bitches#and here we are today#i had pretty neutral expectations and was just like if it's bad it's bad (whatever) at that point#but it turns out i am a bit of a natural at cutting and styling hair#i am not a natural at common sense tho bc my back hurts from sitting weird and my phone battery almost died...skdjdjd whatever
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streaming-yn · 3 years
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(☁️)
HIIII it's 3 am and i'm trying to sleep but brain went brr with ideas n shit and oh well- thing is ; i was wondering if i could make my first request? (smth simple if u want to, no need to be very long or anything + pls don't rush nd take ur time AND don't feel pressured to actually do my request :] ! ) maybe smth ab faceless art streamer! y/n [they/them]?? (if u could add that the reader is like an indie game dev or works for smth like that u'd be sosososososo cool omg) with maybe quackity, tommy, dream, ranboo, niki and/or jack?? idk brain did the storming and its all messy hsdnshhfjsjz (btw! i know it's a lot of CCs so feel free to remove some or do the ones ur only comfy with !!! take care nd stay safe !!! luv ya <3 (/p))
AS SOMEONE WHO LIKES TO GAME DESIGN, CHARACTER, AND PLOT DESIGN YOU BET I CAN MAKE THE READER AND INDIE GAME DEV (and aaaa ty for adding jack!!! I think he's really neat and not enough people acknowledge him :))!!)
Multiple x indie game dev!artist!y/n
pairings: quackity, tommy, dream, ranboo, niki, jack manifold (separate) x indie game dev!artist!y/n
pronouns: they/them
other information on the reader:
. faceless
. knows how to code
. artist
. streams them drawing video game characters
. minor
. makes indie / horror games
form: headcanons
genre: platonic, fluff(??)
warnings: horror games / horror mods, ranboo enderwalk lore in his section
abbreviations: y/n -> your name
quackity
okay let's get the obvious out of the way; definitely going to be the type of person that's like "I'm going to play this game first after you're finished" yk? playfully ofc, n playfully fight with anyone who says the same thing (*cough* Wilbur, tommy, dream *cough*)
he probably wouldn't be on your art streams often – he doesn't really enjoy watching people draw, but he would want to see the finished pics
he would happily be on voice chat with you while you're drawing though!! :D
would be proud to answer any questions you have about character / scene / etc designs!!
"quackity!! so for this character – check your dms for a current picture – would red or purple antenna be better? also, two or four antenna?"
"*gasp* you're asking me?? 🥺" /j
"y'know what, nevermind, chat wh-"
"NO WAIT WAIT"
"so what do you think?"
also, if you do end up sending him the finished pics of the art he will hype you tf up !!!!
would try to get you make joke games – not like actually, it's just an ongoing bit between you two!
if you make a game for him – or give him a sneak peek of a game before anyone else he's going to freak out!! and he won't really know what to say bc putting feelings into words is hard
if y'all ever meet up and you're fine w hugs he's gonna give you a huge hug, hoping that makes up for the lack of words to describe how just,, proud of you he is bc he really really is!!
you're not even in your 20s yet and you can make video games, or help with them?? not to mention how creative you are with the characters and story line??? he's amazed by you
might actually cry /pos if you base a character off of him
like let's say a part of a puzzle is to get a rubber duck and place it into a pond to get the next hint or thing you need – only when he plays it on stream, he doesn't know anything about the game, so you're watching and waiting for him to get there
when he does get there – he finds out the duck has a beanie and has a white ring appear around it that flashes to life before fading out after picking it up, signifying it was the right thing to get
at first he doesn't really notice the ring, "oh! that animation is different than normal" he notes, but mainly focuses on the beanie, comparing it to himself before he glances at chat to see them freaking out over the planet duck reference
then he's just talking about it, shocked of course but flattered, and then you type in chat "you helped me a ton with things I couldn't decide during this game, I couldn't not add you! :)" everyone's just :(((( !!! /pos
overall supportive n proud, maybe a bit loud about games in progress, but just a really nice guy in general :)
tommy
he is ABSOLUTELY loud about your games in progress!! if you don't want something said you have to tell that to him before telling him or else he's going to brag about how cool it is the next time he streams
"chat!! chat, y/n is making this new game and they told me that one of the outfits you can collect for the player is going to be based off me!- right!! that sounds pog!!"
if he ever accidentally let's anything slip on stream that he was supposed to say, everyone who's a fan of you is just like "wow! suddenly! I cannot hear anymore!", sometimes they're like that even if it was okay to say
the just like being surprised :)
as for art streams, he'll try his best to tune in but obviously won't be there all the time! he's usually very active in chat too! likes being on call with you while you do art streams if you let him!
he once convinced you to make a texture pack and a shader (meant for both to be active at the same time), the fans loved it and a lot of them use it more often than the original!!
tommy however, not to much, proud of you bc that must've been a ton of work!! but at some time it slipped his mind that you make indie and horror games; I think we all know he doesn't do well with horror games
so you liking horror and such made the textures look more ominous and just make it look like and area you don't want to be in, and the spook goes up even more with the shader!! it's darker than usual, there's unusual fog, the portals look too dangerous now, so on and so forth yk
so,, tommy didn't use the texture pack for long;;
if you ever raid him after you're done streaming and he has a question, he's literally just gonna ask you on stream
"y/n raid? oh! are they still here?" when you confirm you're in chat, he continues "great! okay I had a question about your new game that's going to be available soon and how to download it-"
fans love how casual you guys are about game information, like you had to teach him how to export a game character he made on the website you usually make yours on (it was for a fun stream) and it was just a simple back and forth but everyone's like omg :((( omg them :((
also if you're the type of person to go insane over tiny details in other games, he will absolutely tease you for it
like you can just be going on and on about how this game had a sentence at the start that had a backhanded meaning by the end and he's just gonna call you a nerd (genuinely thinks is cool how much of the small things you notice in games though)
dream
COMPLAINING ABOUT CODING AND HOW HARD IT IS 🤝🤝
and if you took other coding classes hoping that I'd help with video game coding he'd just listen to you talk about it
"I actually took robotics for a while before because the school didn't have any video game coding classes and I was hoping it'd help either way" "oh?" "it,, it didn't help, it's so hard to code robots and considering how fast I caught onto video game code you think it'd be easier to understand the robot code" "yeah, that sounds reasonable" "NOPE,, WHY R THEY SO DIFFERENT I ALMOST FAILED" "D:"
fanartists like those moments, if one of those talks happen expect a bit of fanart of just dream and you chilling while you talk and he listens, the art always gives off comfy vibes n it's just cute :)
offering him to play a semi-rough draft of the demo so that he could see if it's good or what you needed to do to make it more enticing for the player
power duo fr fr o/
people like comparing y'all to hackers sometimes bc y'all know how to code???
you play into the bit with the fans though and honestly it's so fun !!!
fans: omg,, hackers (affectionate),,,
you next time you stream: hacker voice; I'm in
AND THEY GOT SHOCKED??? LIKE THEY FORGOT YOU CAN SEE THE STUFF THEY POST????
wouldn't be able to watch your art streams for long because he would get side tracked, the streams are just too under stimulating for his brain to focus on, but he'd hang around as long as he could though :)
would be glad to be on call with you while you're doing an art stream – though if he has is game sounds on you may occasionally have to repeat a question that was aimed at him
you're also in his streams when you can :)
also, you like sending donations to communicate rather than chat
one stream dream turned off his donos because you wouldn't stop giving him money 💀
being friends with such a popular creator and being a game creator yourself has it's downs as well
nothing thats too hard to deal with – the most common one is actually kinda funny – some people will slide in your dms acting like they're dream and just got locked out of his account, trying to get you to make them a game
like ??? do they think that dream would mssg you over Twitter or insta?? he has your phone number bro ,😭
also!!! when dream plays through new games you made he complements the small things and complements how hard something must've been to code :)
and I'm ngl, he kinda sucks with every game he plays at first but he's a quick learner so dw :)
would be glad to help if you're having a difficult time choosing between things too! except he'll answer right away without any teasing
"dreammm" "y/nnnn" "for this area should I do like shattered stone walls or mossy stone walls like with vines n stuff?" "depends on the vibe you want, shattered stone would give it a dangerous and uneasy undertone and mossy stone would be more of ominous, if that makes sense?" "oh! okay, thank youuu!!"
ofc if you didn't have a specific vibe or couldn't choose which was better he would just give a straight up answer so you didn't stress out trying to choose one \o/
would absolutely like being a guest in a drawing stream, he isn't the best at art or character design but it's fun to see him try
maybe you both plus some friends do a "drawing Minecraft mobs from memory" stream? ,, with that the thing is; his would mostly be relatively accurate if you could understand wtf he was drawing 😭
dream may or may or have some of your art as his phone homescreen, he loves your style so much :(( /pos
ranboo
first off; he's incredibly impressed!! like!!! you made this game?? this playable game, completely from scratch??? how??
also you may or may not have made a small Minecraft mod for him to tryout on stream,, little gift from you to both chat n ranboo 🤲
its literally all based off his lore,, if you get close to obsidian and crying obsidian fallen down from Undertale starts playing, if you splash water on yourself 1) you get hurt 2) your screen blacks out and when it comes back, your in a different place than before, some things art taken, maybe a few extra things are added
and there's a 50% chance that when you go into your "enderwalk" state (the blackout) you blow something up, so there may or may not be an explosion somewhere nearby, you also have a 20% chance of building something small in you enderwalk state :)
he found it so incredibly cool!!! chat was crying while complementing you while ranboo thanked you and complemented you over n over again
he won't shut up about how cool the mod is for several weeks, maybe even a few months, it's just so cool!!
will absolutely use it as a comeback if you let him; "oh? you got first place? well y/n made me a really really cool mod, so who's the actual winner here?"
will absolutely play every single game you come out with – it doesn't matter if it's his style or not – and he thoroughly enjoys all of the games as well
as for art streams, he will absolutely try to tune in every time he can!! active in chat and donos!!
doesn't really like being in art streams – like in call is fine but actually drawing? not really, he just doesn't love drawing in front of a ton of people
but will join an art stream if you ask
will listen to you rant about whatever, even if he doesn't understand it! like will listen to you go on and on about how well a game set up the atmosphere or maybe talking about how difficult coding is, and he'll converse back with you but won't really understand yk?
"ranboo I just played a really cool game do you wanna hear about it?" "yeah yeah- of course!!" "ok so like, the atmosphere was so well put together- like it was a horror game and I didn't even see the monster but the vibe was so well put together that it was still unnerving!!" "that's awesome! how did the atmosphere get set up the best and when you saw the monster, was it scarier?"
yk what I mean? like engages in convo so you don't feel bad about talking so much, plus shows his interest without the constant "hm?" "cool" etc a lot of people do and even though he does talk more than the acknowledgment sounds many people make he also manages to almost never sidetrack you and when he does it's on accident :)
if your way of learning is teaching then he'll gladly be the person you teach it to if you want! most likely won't use the information therefore his brain won't retain it but that's not on you, and the whole reason is so you can learn, not him, so! ^^
will make sure to take care of yourself, and he has a through way of telling if you have or not bc he's known you for long enough to know that even if you try to hide it a little bit of your tired voice shows so he knows if you've been sleeping like you should
also friends with you on discord, where you have your Spotify attached,, you like listening to music while you work on things that aren't sound related and if it's active later than it should be he's going to confront you
overall wholesome mixed in with a little pain bc both of you are like "ah yes, lore <3" and like to see fans cry /lh
niki
I feel like this is expected but if you need to get extra motivation she would probably be your go-to
she hypes you up but like, in a sweet and quiet kinda way, where as everyone else here would probably be relatively loud ;;
honored to be on an art stream if you invite her :')
and would absolutely watch your art streams when she can :D hypes you up in chat
also compliments, tons of compliments!
might call you a prodigy? bc you're so young but can already make games?? and make income off of them?? and do really good art??? and so much more??? like tell me that's not prodigy energy,
if you make a video game character based off her she might cry,, like in a positive way obviously but like at the same time :(( no don't cry!!
I say might bc it's dependant on how she feels that day yk? like she might just have the almost-cry wobble to her voice or she might actually, if that makes sense?
she genuinely loves your art style!! even if it's pointy and kinda creepy she really likes it!!
yk the "awww (name) :(" /pos she does sometimes? 100% does that with you
there are a few compilations of just "aww y/nnn" on YouTube and all the comments on those videos are just crying over y'all /pos
would be happy to help if you're stuck between some options in a game, but would feel kinda bad bc it's your game, you're supposed to be the one choosing the stuff
assure her that it's okay n stuff n she'll be ok tho !
I can't decide if she would play your games or not
bc on one hand she's a huge supporter of you and your work and would like to experience it first hand
but on the other hand she isn't the best with scry games,,
so maybe she'd do both? maybe she'd react on stream to a playthrough, maybe your playthrough? or maybe she would only play some of your games? I haven't decided so up to you I suppose!
jack manifold
genuinely amazed by your talent and will make it quite clear!!
can and will go on tangents about you on stream if someone brings it up
everyone is so :(( <333 /pos bc of it
will play the games you've made as soon as he can
if there are different games that line up in a story he'll make sure to play them in order :)
people also sometimes compare you two to hackers bc you code a ton and he kinda looks like a hacker
difference here is that both of you play into the bit, it's tons of fun!!
listen, I know he doesn't draw much but I am a firm believer that he will doodle his favorite character(s) from your games after he's done playing them
like after he plays a game of yours then expect a small doodle in your texts :)
you compiled a bunch of these doodles into one picture and made it you phone background and he only found out after y'all met irl and it caught the corner of his eye and he registered "oh hey wait that looks familiar"
he found out while recording the vlog n when editing, the editor was like "hey let's leave this in, it'd be funny if the fans knew right?" ,, the fans were crying for two weeks,, /pos
and speaking of drawings; he would like to be on a drawing stream with you, thinks it's be tons of fun!! :D
and he's usually free to call while your streaming and doesn't mind so if you wanna talk to him while drawing just call :)
and he will watch the streams he can make it to!! he may leave a bit early but he stays for the majority of it
if you make a character based off of him he's going to constantly thank you and brag about how cool you are anywhere he can
"hello manifolders, if you haven't done it already go download (game name)! I'm there!" with a ss of his character from the game and he'll reply to the tweet on his alt to talk more about the game and how much he really liked it :)
another that'll help you were you need it! he'll make it into a joke before anything else, but he'll get to the point
taglist (sorry i forgot to do it on the past two): @cvsmixplant // @l0ver0fj0y // @youngstarfishdinosaur
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New person, same mistakes (1)
This was requested a very long time ago. I disappeared bc school is hard lmao. I’m back and will take requests!
Summary: After losing your parents, you move to the OBX with your cousin to continue your teenage years. The RULE makes for unsteady relationships, and several heartbreaks. 
Warnings: mentions of sex, drug use, abuse, violence , read at your own risk. 
Kie and her family were such angels for letting you come stay with them. After losing your parents, a new way of life was so incredibly refreshing. You were finally finding out who you were. Your aunt and uncle were so accommodating, and Kie made it much easier to make friends.
After a long day on the boat, you were finally stepping off onto steady ground. Your legs were sore, skin burning from the blistering sun, and to say you were dehydrated would be an understatement. The boys only brought alcohol along, and you and Kie had brought along some Capri suns, but ran out halfway through the day. The alcohol was still in your system, and you slowly trotted to the chateau, cooler in hand making the trek no easier.
“Hey, let me get that.” John b spoke, coming to your side. You looked at the brunette boy, his freckles prominent due to the sun exposure.
“Uh, it’s okay John b, I’ve got it.” You sighed, refusing the help of your former flame.
“Seriously, give it here.” He sighed, his hand brushing yours as he took the cooler from your grasp.
You lied there, completely bare with the brunette boy sighing next to you.
“We can’t keep doing this.” John b broke the silence.
You froze, trying to comprehend the words that just fell past his lips.
“W-what?” You said, rising and letting the cover fall exsposing your bare chest.
“Cmon y/n, you know the rule.” He breathed, standing from the bed to put his clothes back on.
“What? The stupid no pogue on pogue macking? You’re really gonna try to enforce that now?” You scoffed, standing to get dressed as well.
John b looked at you, “if the others found out, they would flip. And we’ve been best friends for years. I feel like we should stop while we’re ahead.”
“Seriously? Stop while we’re ahead?” You scoffed, pulling your shoes on “ I’m pretty sure they’ve got a pretty good idea about what’s going on already.”
“Maybe I just want to stop.” He said, making you freeze once again.
You slowly turned to face him, trying your best to keep the tears from spilling over your eyes.
“You want to stop? What happened to love John B? Huh? Was that all a stupid play to get in my fucking pants?” You spoke, your voice raising slightly.
John b shot his hands out towards you, in an effort to keep you calm. “Y/n! They’re outside, don’t wake them up!”
“Whatever John b.” You scoffed, grabbing your things and flinging the door to his room open.
You quickly made your way through the living room, seeing JJ smoking God knows what on the couch.
“Hey, where are you going?” He asked, his face suddenly scrunching in concern as John b came out behind you.
“Home- kie’s- what the fuck ever!” You groaned, finally making your way out of the chateau.
JJ watched as you got in your car, and swiftly drove off, dirt flying up behind your tires.
“John b-“
“Don’t, it’s nothing.” He sighed, dropping his arms to his side and making his way to the fridge.
“Y/n?” You wer suddenly brought out of your thoughts when JJ spoke to you.
John B had long ago made it into the chateau, and you and JJ were the only ones outside.
“Uh yeah, what’s up J?”
“Well you were just kinda standing here, not moving.” He told you.
“Yeah, just, lost in my thoughts I guess.” You stifled a laugh.
He nodded, and the two of you made your way through the thick summer air to the chateau.
Kie always told you that you were too good for John b, he didn’t really know what he had when he had it.
It took months, but you finally got back into the dating game eventually. And so say the other pogues were happy for you would be a lie.
You missed John b, you missed what the two of you had. But you were with someone else now.
Before you entered the chateau, tires crunched onto the rocks, signaling someone pulling into the chateau.
You turned to see the all to familiar car, music blasting for everyone to hear.
You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend stepped out of the car, strolling up to your place on the porch causing JJ to scoff.
You slapped him lightly
“I’m gonna go inside before I kill someone.” He spoke, causing your boyfriend to roll his eyes.
As JJ stepped over the threshold into the small house, your boyfriend wrapped his hands around your waist.
“Hey rafe.” You giggled, turning into his chest and inhaling his woody sent.
“Hey babe.” He sighed, slightly stumbling as he pulled you in even closer.
“Woah, are you okay?” You questioned, tugging away to get a better look at his face.
He was flushed, warm with beads of sweat cascading down his forehead.
“Of course I am babe.” He brushed you off, moving his head to place a rather rough kiss on your neck.
“Rafe, what are you doing? We are literally on John B’s porch.” You spoke, trying to push his heavy weight off your body.
“Cmon baby, let’s go get in the car and I’ll make you feel good, yeah?” He purred, his hands snaking up your bikini top.
“Rafe!” You said loudly, finally mustering the strength to push him off you.
“What’s your deal?” He yelled, shocking you at his sudden outburst.
With wide eyes, you scoffed, “what’s my deal? What’s yours! You’re literally trying to get into my pants on someone’s porch!”
“You don’t want me.” He deadpanned, taking his sunglasses off and running his hands through his hair.
“Of course I want you, just not right now, an-and not on a front porch for Gods sake!” You responded, pulling your face into his hands.
“Rafe,” you questioned, staring into his eyes concern and fear bubbling in your stomach.
“Rafe, are you high right now?” You whispered.
He rolled his eyes, “it doesn’t matter y/n, what matters is you don’t want to have sex with me, you want to break up!” He nearly cried, sitting on the steps with his hands pulling at his hair.
“Baby, of course I want you. But not while you’re high off God knows what! What have you been doing?”
“Just get away from me!” He yelled, swatting his hand at your legs before standing to walk to his car.
You jumped back in surprise, and watched as your boyfriend stalked off to his car before swiftly pulling off onto the street.
You were shocked to say the least, why was he being like this? You gave him every part of you, sometimes when you didn’t even want to. All you wanted to do was please him, make him happy.
You turned to see your friends watching intently from inside, and your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment.
You opened the door to silence, other than the light ping of a bottle cap hitting the counter as JJ brought a cool beer to his lips.
“Are you okay?” Kie began.
You scanned the faces in the room, some of concern and others reading disappointment.
“Let’s just go home.” You sighed, turning to begin walking out. Kie said bye to the boys and quickly followed you onto the path.
“What was that?” She questioned, the orange glow from the sun casting beautiful shadows across the water.
“I don’t know.” You sighed, continuing the walk to your home, or, Kie’s home.
You tried calling Rafe a million times that night, laying in bed contemplating what you did wrong. Why did he feel like he needed to use drugs, were you not enough for him, like you weren't enough for John B? 
thankfully, a light knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. A blonde head of messy hair peaked around the corner of you door. 
“Are you dressed?” JJ’s voiced sounded, and you just curled up into your covers more, willing him to go away. 
“I’m coming in wether you like it or not, and to be honest I don’t really care if you’re dressed or not.”
Once JJ fully stepped into the room, he contemplated following kie’s orders to drag you along to the kegger. 
“JJ I don’t want to go.” You spoke, staying put in your mountain of blankets. 
“Well kie is gonna kick my ass if i don’t come downstairs with you, so this isn’t really about you.” 
Sighing, you sat up to see JJ’s lips quirked into a smile. You knew she really would kick his ass, so for the betterment of your friend you obliged. 
“okay, but I’m not going to have fun.” You told him, and he chuckled softly. 
“That’s okay, come on you can wear that, we’re already running late.” He said, pulling you out the door. 
The kegger wasn’t too crazy, just a handful of people and a cool night. You sat in a lawn chair, eyes on the fire when you felt a presence next to you. you were met with those all too familiar hazel eyes. 
“Hey.” he spoke. 
you cleared your throat, “Hey John B.”
He sighed, kicking sand as he rested his chin in his hands. He took a deep breath before sighing,
“I just thought you should know that I’m with sarah now.” 
you rose your eyebrows, “Now? You were with her before we broke up, and then threw me away like I meant nothing to you.” 
He sighed and stood before saying, “Y/n I loved you, I really did-“
“Yeah but you love Sarah more, don’t you?” You chuckled dryly, bringing your beer to your lips.
“Y/n we-“
“Just go John b, I don’t want to hear it.”
He slowly stalked away, joining the blonde girl who had no idea you’ve had your hands on every inch of his body. Touched every dimple and freckle that littered his skin. 
Before you could spiral any further, a loud motor lured you from your thoughts. 
seriously, who would bring a motorcycle out here? 
Oh, thats who. 
You stood apprehensively as Rafe made his way to you. 
“Hey baby.” He smiled, wrapping you tightly in a hug. 
“Rafe where did you get that motorcycle?” You asked him. 
“Don’t worry about it! Do you wanna come back to my place?” He asked, placing his hands on your hips, slowly drinking in your appearance. 
“Um, no not right now.” You said, notice the same dilated pupils you had seen just hours earlier. 
“Rafe, your’e high.” You scoffed, pulling away from him. 
“Yeah, so what,” He chuckled, reaching into his pocket retrieving a bag of a curious white powder, “You want some?” He offered, pushing the bag to you. 
“What! No!” You said, shaking your head at the boy in front of you.
“Whats your problem Y/N? Just take some, it makes you feel good.” He pushed further, dumping some of the contents onto his finger. 
He thrust his powder covered digit towards your face, and you turned away in disgust.
“No Rafe.” 
“Cmon, stop being a bitch and take it.” He harshly urged, grabbing you by the back of your head, gripping your hair and placing his finger under your nose. 
You thrashed in his grip, before finally falling to the ground. White powder falling over you, almost like the snow from back home.
“Seriously! You fucking bitch! Do you know how much that cost me!” He yelled, throwing his hands up in anger. 
He was starting to catch the attention of the others around you, especially JJ.
“Rafe I-I’m sorry.’ You choked out, starting to stand when a blunt force rammed into your side. 
You screamed in pain as you fell back into the sand. A dull throbbing shooting through your body. 
Did he just kick me? You struggled to sit up as he continued his mindless yelling. 
Instantly someone was at your side, helping you up as you watched JJ and pope hold Rafe from doing any more damage. 
tears spilled over your cheeks, and your body racked with sobs as kie pushed your hair out of your face, trying to calm you down. 
Of course John b wasn’t here to help
Rafe noticed your tears, and he instantly calmed, his face softening. 
“Oh, y/n I am so sorry-” 
“Shut up Rafe, we’re through!” You screamed at him, sobbing harder as kie held you against her body. 
she shot at look at JJ and pope, making JJ say, “Okay man, you gotta go.” 
“No! Y/n I’m sorry!” He cried, fighting against the two boys once more. 
“I said go man!”JJ raised his voice, forcefully pushing Rafe back to the bike he came in on.
Rafe sighed, and turned pulling his hair and kicking sand.
JJ made his way over to you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders while kie continued to tame your sobs.
“JJ h-he kicked m-me.” You choked out, and he whispered a soft I know in your hair.
JJ nodded kie off, and she took the hint, allowing you to fall into JJs grasp.
“Cmon, let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”
You nodded, leaning into him as he held your arm to aid your limp.
“Where’s John b?” You whispered, and JJ kept quiet, slowly leading you back to the chateau.
The others started to clear the party, wanting you to be able to calm down alone.
Once again, someone treated you like you were nothing. Maybe you are trash. Where did you go wrong?
JJ slowly walked by your side, letting you lean into him before you reached the porch of the chateau.
“JJ, I-I’m sorry.”
“What? You have nothing to be sorry for?” He spoke, leading you through the kitchen and into the small bathroom.
“You- you told me about him, you warned me, a-and I didn’t listen.” You sobbed, JJ slowly easing you down onto the closed seat of the toilet.
“Sometimes you can’t help who you fall in love with, it’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for. And he’s lucky I didn’t bash his face in right there.” He said, squatting down to your level and Placing his hand on your chin to make you look at him.
Tears continued spilling out of your Y/E/C eyes, as JJ moved the sand clumped strands of hair out of your face.
His blue eyes looked into yours, and for a moment he contemplated his next moves, should he go beat the fucker up?
But he decided he needed to be here with you.
“You need to clean up, do you want me to leave you or?”
“I-I don’t think I can, my side really hurts.” You choked, steadying yourself in the blondes shoulder.
“Okay, I’m gonna go find kie-“
“No JJ, it’s fine, I just want to get cleaned up so I can lay down.” You told him, looking back up to meet his eyes.
“Okay, I’ll run you a bath.” He spoke softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before starting the water.
“I’m used to people seeing me at this point.” You whispered, as he helped you stand and remove your clothing.
“What?” JJ was confused.
“I never really wanted to do the things Rafe wanted me to, I just thought I had to. I didn’t want him to leave me. But I guess it never really mattered.”
JJ wanted to cry, and go beat the shit out of the boy who forced you into things, kicked you, and made you feel like shit.
“You don’t ever have to worry about him again, I got you. I promise.” He said, lowering you into the warm tub water.
You closed your eyes as the warm water hit the throbbing bruise on your side, you continued crying as the events replayed in your head.
JJ slowly leaned you back to wash the clumps of dirt and sand out of your hair, your body limp as he held you.
His face scrunched up in concentration, seeming to have never washed another persons hair before.
You watched as his eyes focused on your h/c locks, rinsing them tenderly as to not cause you any unnecessary pain.
He raised you, water cascading down your back when a knock sounded at the door.
“Yeah?” JJ questioned, dunking a washcloth in the water and lathering it with soap.
“JJ, have you seen y/n?” Kies voice sounded from outside the bathroom.
“Yeah, she’s In here.” He spoke, beginning to wash your arms and torso as kie pushed the door open.
She gasped at the sight of her cousin, kneeling down beside JJ.
“Y/n...”
“I’m okay.” You croaked, throat sore from sobbing.
“That bruise is bad, do you think you need to go to the doctor?” She asked you, pushing strands of wet hair from your face as jj ran the washcloth over the forming purple and red contusion on your ribs.
You gasped and he let a soft sorry fall past his lips.
“I think it’s ok.” You whispered, as JJ finished and grabbed a towel to help you from the tub.
“I um- need clothes.” You whispered, clinging on to JJ as you stepped from the now cool water.
“Okay, I have some you can borrow.” He told you, sitting you down on the toilet to retrieve some clothes he had left in the chateau.
Kie looked at you concerned, wondering what you were thinking.
“I would’ve helped you with the bath you know.” She told you, sitting on the counter top.
“I know, I’m okay with JJ though.” You whispered, twirling your hair into a bun.
“Hey, are you alright?” Pope spoke, coming into the bathroom.
“Uh yeah, a little shaken but I’m fine.” You smiled.
He smiled back at you, falling into conversation.
Jj was rummaging through his room in the chateau, trying to find something decent to let you borrow. He could hear noises coming from John Bs room, and he rolled his eyes at the fact John b was to caught up with a kook to even know what had just happened to you.
Jj returned to the bathroom with a T-shirt and boxers, handing them to you before walking out with Pope to let kie help you change.
“He’s lucky I didn’t bash his face in man.” Jj sighed, leaning over the kitchen counter.
“What a dick.” Pope responded, falling onto the couch.
“John b doesn’t even know.” Jj said, looking to his friend.
“I know.”
55 notes · View notes
xaandiir · 3 years
Text
Last Stop to Nowhere - Chapter Three
AO3 Link | FF.net Link
First | Previous | Next
Summary: Ryan and Min got off the train, but spending several months away from home while dealing with a very traumatic experience on an interdimensional judgment train. Recovery is not instantaneous and one good band session does not mean that everything is solved. It’s going to take more work, more talking, and being honest. However, it’s very hard to have an absolutely honest conversation in the 1980s, especially with everything that both boys are withholding.
Warnings: Homophobia, micro-aggressions
Word Count: 2549
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 Ryan didn't wake up on his own. He was woken up by the clatter of dishes and drawers from in the kitchen. He is half hanging off the couch when his eyes open, and drool is staining the throw pillow he was lying on. Ryan groans, holding his head and pushing himself up onto his elbow. He peers over the couch, managing to get just a glimpse into the kitchen. He can't quite see who is in there, even if he had his glasses on.
After sitting up and stretching, Ryan slips on his glasses and walks to the kitchen. He stands hesitantly in the doorway to see his dad preparing breakfast. His father always found time to get food made for all the kids, despite how many of them there were, and that he still had his own job to attend to. Ryan's stomach twists as he watches his dad work, though his dad's back is turned to him.
"Are you just gonna stand there?" his dad asks, giving a quick glance over his shoulder. "First time you're home in almost two years."
"Oh. Yeah," Ryan murmurs, glancing down at the ground. "Um. How've you been, Dad?"
"Good." He starts mixing up some pancake mix in a bowl.
Ryan scuffs his shoes against the ground and crosses his arms. He leans in the doorway and looks anywhere but his dad. "I can, uh, leave? Just needed a place to stay back in town."
"No, no, stay. Your mother will be happy to see you," his dad says. "Besides. You think I still make pancakes every morning? This is a special occasion."
Ryan looks back up and smiles a bit. "Yeah?"
His dad nods and gives him a smile.  "Want to help me cook?"
Ryan's heart does a little dance in his chest. He hasn't helped his dad cook breakfast since he was younger, and that turned out--messy. When he got older, he was too focused on music to try and help his dad with any kind of cooking. It almost feels like a nostalgic kind of activity now. "Uh--yeah, sure, dad."
"I'll need a pan and some oil." He continues mixing up the batter while Ryan goes to grab the items.
The oil was easy to find, but the pans aren't in the place they always were. Ryan frowns and checks the next cabinet, finding nothing there either.
"They're in top cabinets now," his dad says. "Over the stove. Easier to grab that way."
"Oh. Yeah, that, that makes sense." Ryan moves to that cabinet and grabs a larger pan from it. "It seems like a lot has changed since I left."
His dad shrugs. "Well you had a central room in the house. Your mom was excited to get things moved around once there were a few rooms opened up after you and your sisters moved out."
'Moved out' wasn't exactly an apt description for Ryan. His was more like 'got out'. He says, "So she rearranged like everything in the house?"
"Just about. I keep forgetting that she moved the sock drawer in our room." His dad laughs.
Ryan pours some oil into the pan and turns on the stove, letting it heat up. He watches it closely so the oil doesn't pop. It also gives him something else to focus on. Something other than his dad, or this kitchen, or how different this house has become in the time that he's been gone.
"Y'know, I was surprised you didn't call on your birthday," Ryan's dad says. "I would have expected that you would have wanted to come back and ask me to throw you a few bucks so you could celebrate."
Ryan is quiet for a long minute. His birthday. Yeah. His birthday passed. They were gone for months and he was only a month away from turning nineteen when he took Min onto the train. He wanted to celebrate with Min. He wanted their nineteenth birthday to be special together, on the road, in New York. He kind of got what he wished for, but not in the way that he actually wanted. It never even crossed their minds that their birthday passed.
He finally finds his words and he says, "Oh, well. Y'know. I was doing okay on my own and all. Got busy and stuff."
His dad nods as he steps up beside him. He pours some of the batter into the pan and it sizzles as the batter starts to cook. "Well you're home in time for Tommy's birthday next week. Are you sticking around that long?"
Ryan chews his lip. He has been doing a lot in the past year and a half. Not even counting the train. It might be good if he takes a bit of time to stay at home and collect himself before he hits out on the road again. That is...
"Would I be able to?" Ryan asks hesitantly.
His father gives him a weird look and then laughs. He pats Ryan's back. "Of course. Just. Don't be weird while you're here."
Weird. Right.
"Are you making pancakes?" a familiar voice laughs. Ryan looks over his shoulder just as his mother enters the room. She somehow looks so much older just in the last year and a half he's been gone. He notices more prominent wrinkles and she's stopped dyeing her hair so some grays are being shown at the roots. She stares at her son for a moment, like her mind is catching up to what it is that she is seeing in her kitchen. "Ryan. You're home."
Ryan smiles sheepishly. "Uh. Yeah. I came by last night .I got in pretty, uh--pretty late."
She nods slowly. Her expression adjusts and it looks like she has accepted the circumstances. "It's nice to have you home. Did Mark let you in?"
"Yeah." Ryan looks down at his brother's pajamas he's wearing. "He let me get cleaned and everything."
"Good of him," Ryan's dad says. "I'm sure he and Tommy will be up later into the morning, so it'll just be the three of us eating breakfast this morning."
Oh. Great.
"Come on, Ryan," his mother says, gesturing for him to come and sit at the kitchen table with her. "How have things been on the road? We got your cassette."
"You've got some pretty good ones on there," his dad adds.
Ryan's eyes widen. "You--You listened to it?"
"I think you could clean up a few songs," Ryan's dad adds. "But you've definitely got potential. I bet you could really make it if you applied yourself."
"I do. I am!" Ryan promises. "It's been really fun touring around the place." Even if it hasn't been exactly successful.
"What sorts of places have you performed?" his mother asks.
His dad chimes in, "Anywhere really cool? Any big gigs?"
Ryan feels embarrassment burn on his cheeks. "Oh. No, nothing super special. Mostly just open mics and casual parties and stuff. It takes a while to get noticed. Once I get an album made, I'm sure that I'll really start to make it."
His mother pats her hand on Ryan's hand, in that way that she always did when she was comforting one of the kids that was crying over something silly. It makes Ryan's stomach turns over like the pancakes that his father was flipping.
"I hope you...enjoyed your time on the road," his mother says. "And didn't get into any trouble."
Ryan wants to force a smile on his face the same way Min does, but he can't bring himself to. "Yeah. I was--I got a girlfriend actually. Uh. Three, actually."
"Three?" His father whistles and grins wide. His mother also smiles at that. "Looks like you inherited the same genes as your dad after all."
"Oh hush," his mother huffs.
"C'mon Yui, I know that you fell for me because I made you jealous with all my arm candy," he teases.
She rolls her eyes. "You were the one who begged me to go on a date with you for half a year. I just wanted to see how long you would try."
Ryan watches his parents banter. He wants to enjoy it. He always enjoyed seeing his parents talk like this when he was younger--even if some of the lovey-dovey stuff was gross--but it just makes him feel sick now. They don't want to acknowledge any of it beyond vague references and hopeful glimpses at his love life. Nobody wants the queer kid as their son.
The pancakes are served on the table after they are finished cooking. Ryan silently takes a couple and douses them in syrup, choosing to skip the butter. He's had plenty of that for a lifetime.
"Hey," Ryan says quietly, "Dad, when you were a kid, did you get served like. Super nasty food in America?"
His mother gives a grossed-out moan. "Did you find out about American post-war food? What a travesty."
"Hey, it was delicious," his dad insists. "I still think that if you would just let me throw some bologna on the grill-"
"Absolutely not," she says, shaking her head. "You grew up in an era where everything was stuck inside of gelatin."
"It wasn't the brightly colored sugary mess that it is now!"
"Still a crime," she says simply.
Ryan chuckles. "I tried cooking some of that," he says. "It was a disaster. The only thing I could make was brownies."
That makes Ryan's dad smile. "Now what were you doing trying to cook post-war recipes?"
"Oh. Just, y'know, I was um. Thinking about home. I wanted to give it a shot."
"Well if there's something you didn't inherit from your father, it was your cooking skills," his mom said. "You really made it all on your own?"
"Min-Gi helped," Ryan promises.
His parents grow quiet for a minute. Ryan pauses, his fork almost to his mouth, as he looks at his parents inquisitively. His mother is the first to speak. "The Parks called us a few months ago asking about Min-Gi. You were with him?"
"Oh, yeah, we--we went to New York together. For a gig thing." Ryan looks down at his plate. "I kinda made him."
His mother gives a disappointed sigh. "You should have let his parents know. Or just not made him. They were out of their minds. They bothered us for almost two months. We kept telling them that it was probably fine, but after a while we started to get worried too."
"You wouldn't answer your phone when we tried to call too," his father points out.
His mother nods. "You should have put more thought into things."
Ryan picks at his pancakes, losing his appetite with every passing minute. "Yeah. I guess I didn't really think about it at all. Sorry."
"Well so long as Min-Gi is back, then that's all that matters," his mother says.
Ryan nods a bit. He sets his fork down. "I'm actually not that hungry. I think I'm going to just go for a walk for a while."
His father laughs. "A walk? I would have thought that you would want to go for a drive. Sick of staying in that van after so long?"
Ryan's cheeks flush an embarrassed red. He had never exactly planned on going back home, so the van was never something that he planned to...
He clears his throat and says, "I kind of, uh. Don't have the van."
"You-" His father blinks a couple times. "You don't have the van?"
"It's, um, it--Y'know, a long story, but-" 
"Ryan!" his mother cries.
"Are you kidding me? You lost my van?" his father demands. 
"It was--um--It was my van. You gave it to me," Ryan stammers.
His father shakes his head vigorously. "Under the assumption that you wouldn't lose it, Ryan! How do you just lose a van?" He groans and holds his head in his hands. "Actually, no. It was probably t hat you were just being foolish and weren't thinking."
"I'm...I'm sorry, Dad."
"You know what?" He sighs and stands up, picking up his plate. "It's a good thing you're staying here for a while, Ryan. You need to apply yourself. Get a real job. Stop messing around and actually apply yourself."
Ryan stands up too, feeling his face burning hot with shame. "You--No, I. I don't have to stay here."
"You're going to pay me back for that van," his father snaps. "I lent it to you on the assumption that you would be responsible, Ryan. Instead you come back with nothing to show for it, and you have lost a van! You are going to stop all of this messing around you did in high school. You're going to get a job and--and be more like Min-Gi! Learn to be responsible!"
Ryan's chest is pulled so tight it feels like he's going to tear in half. He has to swallow several times before the lump in his throat is pushed down far enough that he can speak. "I'm going for a walk."
He doesn't give his parents a moment to protest. He grabs his jacket from the couch and jams on his shoes and leaves. He doesn't care that he's still dressed in pajamas or that his heels are sticking out of the back of his shoes so they clop as he hurries down the sidewalk. He just has to get out of there, as fast as he can.
Ryan is hunched forward as he walks, feeling anger begin to fester in his gut as the anxiety of facing his angry parents starts to subside. He mutters under his breath to the tune of his song My Dad's Van. "What does my dad love more than anything? My dad's van, my dad's van." He kicks a rock and it goes skittering across the pavement. "What gets more attention even though I went missing? My dad's van, my dad's van."
He comes to a stop and lets out a loud groan. "Gee Ryan!" he shouts to the sky. "It's great that you're home! We missed you so much, we thought about you every day! We didn't change your room because we wanted to make sure you had a place to stay when you finally visited home. We've accepted you fully and realized that we were foolish for how we treated you before you left! We'll never be so mean to you again!"
He sighs and lets his head fall back forward, defeated. "Get a job," he mutters. "I'm nineteen and I have no job experience and they expect that I can get a job just like that, huh?" He crosses his arms. "...Maybe I can get a job at Dumpty's with Min-Gi? Wait. Does he still work there?" He remembers how Min threw the Dumpty keys out of the castle. Yeah. No way is he still employed there.
"Oh yeah. We're nineteen now," Ryan says softly to himself. They didn't get to celebrate anything when they were on the train. Maybe they can have a late celebration. Ryan has no money to his name, but if he gets a job, then maybe... He groans again. "Fine. But Dad isn't getting my first paycheck."
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angelofthequeers · 4 years
Text
Not a Good Look: Chapter 4
@thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @lady-charinette tagged as requested :)
Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | AO3 link
Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.
“– wake him up?”
“He needs the sleep, though. That was an enormous shock.”
“Yeah but his bodyguard’s picking him up at eight and he needs time to recover so he can act normal.”
That voice…it’s the voice of an angel. It’s his lady! His princess!
“Maribug…” he croaks around the weight in his chest. The hushed voices around him immediately die.
“W-What?” Maribug’s voice squeaks. Adrien should open his eyes but...it’s peaceful, drifting in this sea of darkness with his lady’s voice nearby. It feels like a pleasant dream after the nastiness of the shock that the voices had been talking about, although what that shock could be, he’s got no clue apart from a niggling little feeling in the corner of his brain.
“Of course she’s you. Of course you’re the most incredible girl, Maribug. Buginette. I like both. Just like Ryuumi. Kagyuuko.” He sighs and prays that this dream of amazing girls who could kick him over the Eiffel Tower never ends. “Girls. Please step on me.”
“Uh, Marinette, what’s he talking about?” says a voice that’s familiar but just evading Adrien’s addled mind.
“N-Nothing! I have no clue! He’s just delicious – uh, delirious!” Maribug babbles in a high voice.
“Really,” the second voice says flatly. “Because it sounds like he’s saying you’re –”
“He’s just delirious, okay?”
Everything after that fades into a buzz of voices and background sounds that brush over him but don’t sink in. He’s not sure how long it is before he’s finally able to open his eyes; it could be minutes, or it could be days. Either way, by the time he groans and cracks his eyes open, the light that meets him is emanating from a lightbulb instead of through the windows across from him, which show the dim skyline of the city outside lit by brilliant orange. How long exactly had he been out?
“Adrien?” says an angel from nearby, and some warm pressure envelops one of his hands. Craning his head brushes his cheek against soft pink fabric, informing him that he’s lying on the chaise in Marinette’s room, and this conclusion is confirmed when his brain focuses enough to inform him that the person kneeling on the ground next to him is Marinette. Kagami’s sitting cross-legged next to her, so close that the outsides of their thighs are touching, and she appears to be the source of the warmth in his hand, since she’s laced their fingers and is resting her head on the edge of the chaise just next to his side. Marinette’s blue eyes crinkle as she reaches over to brush the hair back from his forehead, and for a moment, this is Adrien’s whole world: just the three of them, him and his lady and his heart’s thunderstorm, and he almost forgets why he’s even in this position until someone else speaks.
“It’s around six.” This new speaker is Alya, who’s sitting cross-legged in Marinette’s desk chair and regarding him with the same sympathy as Marinette. “We figured you needed the sleep after that panic attack.”
“Alya!” Nino hisses from the floor next to the chair. Alya shrugs.
“What? He was gonna ask eventually.”
“Panic attack?” Adrien lets out a hoarse laugh. “I haven’t had one of them since…wow, I don’t even remember. Especially not one that bad.”
“Understandable, after what you learned,” Kagami says. She’s still wearing Kaalki’s glasses, and everything pours back into Adrien’s brain in a rush: Nathalie most likely being Mayura, his own father possibly being Hawkmoth and making a deal with Lila using him as collateral – collateral in a supervillain’s terrorist plot –
“Hey. Hey, Adrien.” A warm hand grabs his unclaimed hand and squeezes, while his chest once more begins to tighten. “Five things you can see.”
“Huh?” he rasps.
“Tell me. Five things you can see.”
“Um…” Adrien squints around the room, trying to direct his focus to the task he’s been given instead of the way his chest is clamping down on his lungs. “Your computer. Mannequin. Alya and Nino. Kagami. Uh…you. Your smile.”
Marinette’s soft smile seems to sharpen, drifting more into focus. “Good. Four things you can feel or touch.”
“The – the chaise.” His fingers twitch and brush against soft material. “My shirt.” He flexes his fingers in Kagami’s hand and she pushes right back, counterbalancing and grounding him. “Kagami. And…and you.”
“Good.” Marinette squeezes his other hand, and it’s like she’s breathing new life into him by the touch alone. “Three things you can hear.”
Adrien draws in a deep breath – much easier now that he’s not suffocating – and focuses. “The cars. They’re outside. Um…there’s a dog barking somewhere. And you. Your voice.”
“Almost there. Two things you can smell.”
“Strawberries and vanilla,” are the first words out of Adrien’s mouth in answer to that. While there are other fainter scents around him – fabric, the cool city air fluttering in from the cracked window, cooking food from downstairs – the smell that overwhelms him, that demands his attention, is Marinette. Her forehead creases in response to his words, but she thankfully doesn’t question them.
“And one thing you can taste.”
Instinctively, Adrien raises Marinette’s hand to his mouth and presses his lips to the back of it. “You,” he says, while Marinette’s face flushes as brilliant red as her suit when she’s Ladybug. God, Adrien loves this girl so much. How did he get so lucky that he fell for her twice over?
“Ghat’s tood – that’s good!” Marinette stammers. Kagami lets go of his hand with a small frown, and although Adrien wants nothing more than to erase that look from her face forever, his fuzzy brain can’t quite figure out how to do so, or even much of what’s going on right now. “Better feel a bit?”
“You’re so cute when you stutter,” Adrien’s mouth says without his permission. Marinette’s face turns even redder, darkening to the crimson of Ryuuko’s suit, and it’s that comparison that makes him realise: Kagami’s probably upset that he’d kissed Marinette’s hand like that. Shit. But how does he explain that he doesn’t love her any less? That he naturally gravitated to Marinette because she’s his partner, the one who’s had his back since the very beginning, not because he loves her more or something? The answer is that he can’t; not without exposing his identity, and he’d never betray his lady like that when they’ve agreed on the importance of secret identities, especially since he’d only just found out her identity. God, this is all so confusing. How do people do this feelings thing?
“Um…what do you remember?” Marinette forces out. “Since you got back here?”
Adrien frowns. “Not much. I know you guys comforted me – and you’re all the best friends anyone could have.”
“Damn right,” Alya says, while Nino salutes.
“Anything else?” Marinette’s tone is cautious, like there’s an elephant in the room that she’s stepping around. Adrien squints at her.
“Then I woke up and Alya told me that it was six.”
“Oh,” Nino says. “So, you don’t remember –” He hisses when Alya kicks him in the ribs, though it doesn’t look like there was any force behind it.
“Remember what?” Adrien struggles to sit up, though his body is less like a solid block of concrete thanks to Marinette’s grounding exercise, so it doesn’t take too much effort. “What did I do? Or say?”
Marinette looks over her shoulder at the others and bites her lip. Adrien’s gut lurches.
“Mari,” he says, leaning forward, and she starts at the nickname. “What happened? Did I mess up? Did my father or Nathalie –”
“No, no, nothing like that!” Marinette throws her free hand in the air, then takes a deep breath and looks down at the floor. “Just…Adrien, how did you know I’m – that I’m Ladybug?”
Adrien.exe crashes. Oh. Oh no. When had he let slip? It must have been in the fuzzy grey realm between getting back to Marinette’s room and waking up to a panic attack, because if Alya and Nino and Kagami didn’t know then Marinette wouldn’t have said it in front of them. But how can he give an answer without revealing his own identity?
Bit selfish of you, isn’t it? says a nasty little voice in his head. Worrying about your own identity when you just blew Ladybug’s, especially to the Ladyblogger.
Adrien swallows and then runs his free hand through his hair, which is much more Chat Noir’s messy mop than Adrien Agreste’s perfect style. “Um…your earrings gave it away,” he says slowly. Marinette’s forehead crinkles in that adorable way that it does whenever she’s trying to think of what to do with her Lucky Charm.
“How? They’re not – they’re plain black – I didn’t have my Ladybug transformation –”
“Well, for one, it occurred to me that jewellery doesn’t carry over to our transformations. But if it was a Miraculous?” Adrien leans in closer, holding himself on the chaise so that he doesn’t nose-dive off it, praying that he’s reading this right and he’s not just about to massively screw everything up. “And last time I saw Multimouse, she didn’t have any earrings.”
“…What?” Marinette blinks. “But you’ve never seen Multimouse –”
“Of course I have,” Adrien says. “She found it very sweet that I thought she was Ladybug, and I couldn’t help but trust her with my life as soon as she spoke, even if I didn’t know who she was. I don’t know how I let you trick me like that when I’ve had your back more than anyone else and I know what your brilliant mind’s capable of. It’s always been us two against the world, hasn’t it?”
It’s rather fascinating that Adrien can pinpoint the exact moment when Marinette’s brain crashes and blue screens. First off is the deathly pallor of her face, followed by her mouth falling open and emitting strange, strangled sounds that don’t in any way resemble speech, and then she’s grabbing his hand and yanking it up to eye level, causing Adrien to inevitably face-plant into the ground and hang off the chaise. But even though he can’t see her, he can certainly feel her running her fingers over his silver ring, and he knows very well that she’s aware of what the Black Cat Miraculous looks like after her stint as Lady Noire, even if the ring had looked different for her like her earrings had changed for him.
“Oh my god,” Alya whispers in the background. “No way – it can’t be – I’m such an idiot –”
“Yep,” says Plagg’s familiar voice as Adrien wrestles his other arm to pull himself fully onto the floor without crashing in an undignified heap. Great. The little gremlin’s going to take full advantage of this situation to milk all the admiration he can get to feed his overly large ego. “You’re such dim-witted creatures. Never see what’s right in front of your nose, and I think these two are proving my point.”
“You don’t need to be so mean about it, you stinky sock!” says a high voice that Adrien recognises as Tikki’s. Well, at least she also recognises that the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak.
“What?” Plagg says innocently. “I had higher expectations of Fox Girl there after she figured out Turtle 2.0 was her boyfriend –”
“How do you even know about that?”
“I know things. I’m an all-powerful god –”
“You’re so adorable!” There’s the sound of feet crashing on the floor. When Adrien finally manages to roll onto his back and groan, hoping that he doesn’t look like a total lost cause, he’s greeted with the upside-down sight of Alya cupping Plagg and scratching him behind the ears. Although Plagg’s wearing a look of annoyance, his loud purrs are a clear betrayal of his attempt to be a grumpy little goblin.
“I’m a creature of darkness! I’m the thing you fear in the night! The ancient avatar of destruction and misfortune!” Plagg yowls, but he makes no attempt to escape Alya’s furious scritching. If anything, his purrs grow louder, and Tikki hovers nearby with a particularly smug look on her face. Traitor. Turning his back on Adrien as soon as someone showers him with affection.
“Okay,” Marinette says faintly and helps Adrien sit up and lean against the side of the chaise. “Okay. I think I’m with it now.” Then she jabs him in the chest and immediately transforms from a dazed airhead to a terrifying demon. “Why the hell would you take the Snake? You could’ve said no! I was waiting for you to show up –”
“You said I was perfect for the job!” Adrien’s voice pitches and cracks, betraying him just like Plagg has. “I kind of had a massive crush on you, remember? I wanted to…well, get you to like me, since you didn’t like Chat Noir. And you said you didn’t need Chat –”
“Oh.” Marinette’s fury dies down like an enraged ocean smoothing out into calm ripples. “Oh, kitty. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to imply – well, I was wrong, okay? I meant what I said after Anansi and during our fight against Miracle Queen. You’re irreplaceable and it’s always going to be us against the world no matter what. I was just, um…more than a bit lovestruck with Adrien Agreste. I wanted to make a good impression on you for your first mission.”
“Really?” Kagami says dryly. “Ladybug wanted to make a good impression? I think I was mildly infatuated with you as soon as you saved me when I was Riposte. You made such an impression on me that you made me realise I wasn’t heterosexual.”
“Join the club,” Alya drawls. “I was so gay for her from the moment she saved me from Stoneheart. Well, pan, if you wanna get technical.” She and Kagami exchange knowing smirks.
“Uh, I know it’s not gay for me, but yeah,” Nino says. “I think we’ve all got a little something for Ladybug, dude. Although to be fair, Chat Noir’s just above her on my freebie list, and only half of that’s ‘cause Alya would deck me if I took Ladybug from her.”
“Damn right,” Alya says and rewards him by bending down to kiss the top of his head.
“I know that’s dumb now!” Marinette huffs and crosses her arms. “I’m a teenager in love. Sue me. And I’m going to ignore that all three of you would do me. Well, my superhero self.”
“Nino would do me,” Adrien says smugly because yeah, it’s just a bit of an ego boost that your best friend finds you hot, even if a) he’s taken by the girl of his dreams and b) you’re hoping to be taken by the girl of your dreams.
“Damn right, bro,” Nino says. Adrien grins.
“Bro.”
“Oh. My. God.” Alya throws her free hand in the air but quickly returns to petting Plagg when he hisses at her. “All this time, both my ships have been the same people! Marinette’s into Adrien – Adrien’s into Ladybug – Chat Noir’s into Ladybug too, and Ladybug’s into Adrien – but Marinette and Ladybug are the same people, and so are Adrien and Chat Noir! You’ve liked each other all along! What the hell is wrong with you two?”
Marinette catches Adrien’s eye and chews her bottom lip. His chest spasms, he gasps, and then he’s slumping against the chaise in a fit of laughter so hard that he can barely breathe, and Marinette’s lying across him and laughing just as hard. By the time Adrien finally manages to catch his breath, hiccupping, his eyes are stinging and blurry and Marinette’s face is buried in his chest, dampening his shirt with her own mirthful tears.
“Okay –” Adrien pants and drops a laugh-leaden arm around Marinette’s waist. “Okay – we need to – we need a plan –”
The reminder that his father is very likely Hawkmoth only slightly pops the atmosphere, but the sheer what-the-fuckery of everything that’s just gone on at least keeps everyone smiling. Wiping her cheeks, which are now stained red, Marinette scrambles backwards away from Adrien and then jumps to her feet and promptly face-plants back into the carpet.
“I’m okay!” she cries, leaping up again and stumbling towards her wardrobe. Alya shoots a mystified look at Adrien as Marinette rummages in her wardrobe, but Adrien’s eyes widen in understanding of what’s going on as soon as she emerges with a ladybug-patterned egg box. Alya and Nino and Kagami don’t seem to have a clue what it is, although to be fair, they’d been brainwashed when they’d seen it, so he’s not expecting them to have any memory of it.
“So, bugaboo, hit us with your incredibly convoluted plan,” Adrien says. Marinette pokes her tongue out at him in response.
“This,” she says and presses the top black spot to cause a cavity to open and show the slots of the main seven Miraculouses, while the other spots open to reveal the zodiacs, “is the Miracle Box. It’s where they’re all kept. And since I’m the Guardian now, I can control who gets which Miraculous without having to go to the Guardian every single time I need one.” She pauses and her face clouds over, so Adrien reaches over to squeeze her knee. Although she’s not the only one mourning the loss of Master Fu, she’s definitely taking it harder than Adrien is, since she knew him better and she’s now got all this responsibility on her shoulders.
“Wait, so that’s where you went every time you had to get help?” Alya leans in, eyes gleaming with her signature curiosity, though she makes sure to still keep scritching Plagg. “So. Cool! Uh, what happened to the other Guardian?”
This time, Marinette’s face is so clouded over that even the other three can pick up on it. Alya’s smile fades and she slumps back in the desk chair and mumbles an apology.
“Every time a Guardian passes on the title, they lose their memories,” Adrien says so that Marinette doesn’t have to answer and address something that’s no doubt been haunting her since that battle. ��It’s a failsafe to protect the identities of the other holders and the Miraculous knowledge.”
“That’s bullshit!” Nino bursts out. “C’mon, dude! I get not remembering the identities and Miraculous knowledge and stuff, but all their memories? What the hell?”
“Nino’s right,” Kagami says with a terrifying little scowl on her face. “That seems like a very poor reward for that kind of service.”
“We don’t actually know much about it,” Marinette says. “Maybe there are different levels of memory wipe. Maybe Master Fu only knew about that one, since he wasn’t trained properly. We won’t know until we talk to the Order, which I’ve been meaning to do – but not right now.” Her features settle into the same determination of Ladybug in the middle of an akuma battle. “We’ve got a supervillain or two to catch. And here’s the plan.”
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s-mething-mbti · 3 years
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Hiya! I just discovered your blog and was wondering if you could help try to type me (sorry this is pretty long)
1. I’m currently pretty torn between the intuitive introverts. I was able to narrow it down to INTJ, INFJ or INTP. I’m about 97.2% sure I use Ni. The only thing that’s giving me a bit of doubt is I find myself occasionally learning for the sake of learning which I’ve found is a traditionally Ne trait. Despite this I’m still pretty sure I use Ni as when I go down a rabbit hole and start learning for the sake of learning its always about a topic that interests me or is entertaining. I won’t waste my time learning about something I find mundane or drab. I resonate a lot with Ni’s “aha” moments where the correct answer simply pops into my head or a vision suddenly seems clear or a plot holes solution suddenly seems painstakingly obvious. I also resonate with starting out with a broader range of information/ possibilities and narrowing it down to one or two things. Another intuitive thing I highly relate to is living in the future. If almost never living in the present, and a constantly fixate on the future. I have a distinct, clear, and well thought out plan for the next 20 years (give or take).
Where I run into a bit of trouble is when I try to figure out which judging functions I predominantly use. It honestly feels like I use them all (though I know you’re only supposed to be able to use two well). For example I plan out everything, and set deadlines for myself. My desk often seems really messy to others especially when I’m doing art. This isn’t because I don’t value cleanliness, but because it simply makes more sense to keep all my art supplies out rather than having to spend at least fifteen minutes taking them out and then putting them away only to take them right back out the next day. I set goals based off of easily measurable, external things such as time, or grades. I make daily to do lists that outline everything I’ll need to do in the day, and some stuff to focus on if I have extra time. With my to do list I also plan out the approximate time each thing should take. When coming up with a scientific theory, I take others opinions/theories and test them against each other, and current scientific laws in order to formulate the most probable theory. External opinions (in a scientific/ logical manner) mean a lot to me (I don’t really care about how people that aren’t my friends think of me). To me these things seem very Te. But then I’m always smiling and am a fairly warm person. I want my friends to be happy, and I want to help others. I despise emotionally driven conflict(though I love debates), and while I’m not afraid to disrupt it if it threatens my morals/ is promoting something blatantly wrong (factually or morally) I do really harmony. These seem like pretty Fe things to me. As for Fi, I rarely share my negative emotions, preferring to deal with them predominantly alone. While I may not talk about them much I also have EXTREMELY strong morals. If something is crossing them I’m not going to simply ignore it for the sake of harmony. While I tend to be private I do try to be as authentic as possible. My morals are derived by information I’ve collected and decisions I’ve made myself, rather than being derived by ���the groups’ collective morals if that makes sense. To me these things appear to be very Fi. As for Ti, sometimes I enjoy learning simply for the sake of learning. The knowledge may have no practical use to me but if I find it interesting or want to learn about it I can devote hours to it. I try and come to the most logical/accurate conclusion possible, and when I’m offering advice I may offer additional advice that takes different variables into account. The truth is really important to me as well.
2. Reading. I absolutely ADORE reading(specifically fantasy/sci-fi/dystopian books or research/scientific articles about topics that interest me). For reference there was a period of time when I had some free time and I was reading 2 or 3 books a day? Read maybe 50 books in the span of 20 days? But yeah I absolutely love reading. Just he way the book sucks you in and deposits you and a completely new world full of wonder and disaster and ugh it’s just magnificent. And don’t even get me started on impeccable character development and eeee. The way rereading a book feels like you’re reconnecting with an old best friend or going back to your childhood home and *sobs*. I also LOVE trying to predict plot twists and character deaths. Most of the time I can predict things correctly and idk it’s really fun to just try and figure out what’s going to happen before the big reveal. And the rush of satisfaction you get when you’ve guessed something right- it also helps me brace for character deaths (sorta. For example I knew *the* death in the final empire [by Brandon Sanderson] was coming since nearly the very beginning [I had my suspicions since the moment vin was introduced] but I still sobbed when the character died. [a tad off topic but what caused me to cry wasn’t the death itself but another characters reaction to it. This is often the case I find. A death of a character I love leaves me feeling empty but what typically gets me to cry is the others reactions- for thus reason funerals usually make me cry. I should also add that I only cry when I’m alone. I’ve cried around people (that aren’t my parents) a grand total of 1 time.]
Uh and daydreaming. I’m almost always daydreaming. Ie. if my brain was a search engine or whatever one tab would be reality and I would consecutively have at lest 20 other tabs open. Some of then playing videos (daydreams) others supplying music(if I’m not actively listening to real music my brain cycles through songs I have memorized. Occasionally does this with book scenes too if I’m bored [yes, I memorize some of my favourite scenes, word for word, so I can play them like a movie in my head when I, bored) others containing random info (just me thinking random stuff) etc.
3. I guess how to solve some problems? Wether it’s a math or science problem, or an argument between friends, figuring out how to solve things has always been something I’m decently good at. Math and science just. Make sense. And then with issues between people I’m good at looking at different perspectives (even ones that I don’t agree with) and playing out different scenarios/ possible outcomes of different approaches. This lets me come up with a solution that will successfully solve the problem with the least amount of negative ramifications involved
4. Hmm maybe being present? I honestly feel like life is passing me by and I’m just immobilized on the sidelines. Im so far into the future that I kinda forget to actually *live* every once in a while.
5. Honesty? Truth? Morals? These topics are all really interesting as they can be kinda subjective. The line between honesty and cruelty is so small. What is truth? Cause while yes, we have some set truths (such as the earth is orbiting the sun) so many ‘truths’ are simply subjective and completely depend on ones perspective. And morals my goodness. The stormlight archive is a really fun series that plays around with things like what is justice? And honour? I won’t get into it now but it brings up so many really interesting questions regarding morals.
6. Perspective . I think perspective is such a fascinating thing. Just. Different opinions. Seeing the world through completely different lenses. Interpreting the same thing in utterly different ways. When toying around with an idea I find it really fun to try and imagine opposing perspectives. While I can find different perspectives really interesting, they can also well... get on my nerves to say the least. Sometimes someone perspective is just? So blatantly wrong? And has absolutely no factual evidence backing it up? And part of me wants to just just scream and it would be so much easier if everyone just. Assessed the facts in front of them instead of making wild accusations or whatever without anything to support them. But yeah overall I think perspectives are really cool and they’re part of what helps to make the world diverse and life so much less interesting without different perspectives.
The future. I’ve found a bunch of my friends find thinking about the future stressful but if I’m being honest I find solace in thinking about the future. Having things planned out and knowing what I intend to do/ where I want to go takes off so much stress. I lowkey live in the future and I honestly cannot wait till it comes, and I achieve my goals. While I might be a bit scared the future excites me so much more than it’ll ever scare me.
7. Maybe add some more stuff about the judging functions and feelings and thinking etc . I absolutely adore science and math. I literally do math for fun. I’m currently aiming to get my PhD in astrophysics.
Not sure if this is relevant at all but my biggest (harmless) pet peeves are my grandmother’s door stopper (it always gets stuck in the door and then u can’t get it out and the door won’t close properly- I have an unhealthy amount of hatred for that thing AHAHJSEJKSMDJDJDJJ) and when people say some variant of “you did good”. Like nO NO YOU DID NOT DO gOoD. YOU DID W E L L (Anyways theres my little mini rant).
I’m my friend groups therapist (sorta). While I’m really not good with words and recycle the same three responses I always let everyone know that I’m here for them and they can talk to me without judgement etc. While I really don’t know what to say or do I try my best because I care about my friends and want to help them. I love them and so I want them to be able to be happy. Im always smiling (though this is more so because people don’t ask me how I’m doing when I look happy than because I’m genuinely happy. Most of the time I’m he farthest thing from that). I’m a pretty warm person who’s always happy to help, however I’m very introverted. I haven’t had a single conversation with the majority of people in my class (I’ve had a convo with maybe 5. Talk to 2 regularly. There are 26 people in my class). I never express negative emotions (with the exception of stress- I panic intensely in the 5 minutes immediately before taking a test as this helps me to completely turn off my nerves while I’m writing the exam. I may also make a joke or two about my negative emotions with close friends). I should also add that when making decisions I value logic more and think thinks through thoroughly, examining the pros and cons etc. While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision. If I’m feeling really emotional and I need to make a decision I will postpone deciding until I feel more levelheaded. I’m really not impulsive in the slightest.
Thank you so much!!
INTJ
Living in the future rather than the present and your comfort in that sapce, your ability for and enjoyment of making predictions, your ability to really understand and try on different perspectives you don’t necessarily agree with, your focus on “ramifications” (aka future implications) while problem solving - this all points to high Ni.
You also show a Te preference - goals based on external metrics, to-do lists for daily tasks, logic based on the outer world (external opinion). When you said “While I take feelings and emotions into consideration when making decisions they’re more like an additional variable to consider rather than the main driving force that determines my decision” - that is a clear cut definition of Te over Fe preference.
Your tertiary Fi shows through here as well - willing to disrupt harmony if it upsets your morals, your morals being personally derived, needing to understand your emotions while alone. And lastly, your statement about “forgetting to live” from being in the future is pretty textbook inferior Se. 
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catubarca · 4 years
Text
Harry Potter Next Generation Headcanons
im bored. im full of emotions, and am rly missing the HP world... i just want to write down my headcannons for the next gen kiddos tbh.
please remember these are just my opinions? its okay if yours are different. im just bored and want to share my thoughts,,
Teddy Lupin
his name is Theodore Remus “Teddy” Lupin. it’s just what it is
I don’t care what JKR says, to me his name will always be Theodore
i can’t do this “Edward” stuff im so sorry,,,
h u f f l e p u f f
proper school uniform? never heard of it
messy hair, messy clothes
punk rock child
we’re talking like,,,at least two (2) lip piercings ok
absolutely terrible in herbology. do not leave this child alone in a greenhouse, bad things happen
fuckin hoards chocolate
its a problem
dating Victorie Weasley
random bursts of dancing
keeps a lock of hair pink for his mother
lives with the Potters, enjoys pretending to be Ginny to ground his siblings
“Lily, why aren’t you coming out of your room? Dinner’s ready?” “You said I’m grounded! You tell me!” “What? Oh, for the- THEODORE REMUS LUPIN-“
s m i r k s
effortlessly cool,,, but so so dorky,,, in a cool way
Victorie Weasley
ravenclaw!
looks a lot like her mother, Fleur, but inherited those Weasley freckles
a little confused a lot of the time
absolute sweet tooth (teddy abuses this fact a lot)
Mom Friend™
will help you with your homework
always got a book on her
super beautiful and like,,,, the absolute nicest person,,, but
cannot dance
like at all
adores Charms class
a softie you don’t want to cross
“I’m the oldest”
Dominique Weasley
inherited the Classic Weasley Red Hair™
idolises her Uncle Charlie
“I wanna save animals and work with cool dragons, just like Uncle Charlie does!”
Bill almost has a heart attack
always bringing stray animals home
(“is that a lizard in your pocket, Dominique?” “Yes! His name is Blob.” “You know how your father’s afraid of reptiles, sweetheart, you can’t bring it inside.”)
Gryffindor child
favourite class is definitely Care of Magical Creatures, she and Hagrid like to talk about proper care methods for rare creatures
perpetual dirt stains
BIG middle child vibes
doesn’t really label her sexuality… just kinda does what she wants rly
all the pets in Hogwarts love her
rumours are she’s got an innate, natural magical ability to make them all love her
(she feeds them under the table)
it’s a mystery
big advocate for animal rights
f e m i n i s t
willing to throw hands at all times
usually all smiles though
one of those people who use their whole bodies to laugh
kind of an accidental heartthrob
romcoms
Louis Weasley
looks the most like his mother
ravenclaw
absolutely filled with curiosity. always reading or talking or learning
random facts
(how do you even find that sort of information?
you don’t want to know)
coffee boy
sort of musically talented?
he and James Sirius preach the importance of skincare to all who will listen
secretly full of sass and dry wit
vry graceful and fluid
e y e r o l l
awkward smiles? can never smile properly in photos
on the ravenclaw quidditch team
Ravenclaw Prefect
(“You might be older, but I’m taller.” “Fuck off!”)
only watches High Quality™ tv shows/media
kind of a disaster, despite the gracefulness
Molly Weasley
Classic red hair
comes across as a bit uptight, like her father
I don’t care what you think. (She really cares what you think.)
E y e b r o w s
death glares
drinks like 5 cups of coffee in the morning
studies,,, like a lot
definitely a Gryffindor though
mom jeans
always ready to debate a topic. will destroy opponents.
has been trying to start a successful Debate Club for like 4 years now
naturally falls into the position of a group leader
would be a teacher’s pet, if she wasn’t ready At All Times™ to debate the relevancy of the course syllabus or outdated teaching methods
got into a fight with Severus Snape’s portrait in Headmistress McGonagall’s office.
(Dumbledore’s portrait was laughing, until she turned and ragged on him for a bit. Minerva thought it was absolutely hilarious, so she just let Molly go at it for a while).
full of rage towards everything, but wears a very careful mask of aloofness
to calm down, she likes painting her nails
she’s very good at it
she’s also very good at painting and art in general, weirdly enough
Lucy Weasley
G R Y F F I N D O R
adores shitty puns and has a terrible sense of humour
brown hair, not red
loves to prank people, which makes her Uncle George very proud
Percy complains about her behaviour, but makes sure he knows he’s proud too
(charming all the cauldrons in the potions classroom to scream whenever they’re stirred takes a more complex understanding of spell work than one would expect).
a pit of a punk streak
rly loves hip hop
high key drama queen
does she ever stop yelling? we’re yet to find out
average grades in terms of theory, but she’s the best in terms of applying information
especially for her pranks
has allies throughout the castle, from the portraits to the students
the bigger the prank, the better
but is a firm believer in “confuse, don’t abuse”
all her pranks are mostly harmless
is a surprising lover of older literature, like Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, an influence of her sister
a bit rebellious
Fred Weasley II
name isn’t officially “the second”, but it sounds cooler
James Potter, Lucy Weasley, Molly Weasley and Fred Weasley are like the Marauders 2.0
says “squad” and “lit” unironically
niche humour
hipster vibes
avid music lover
smiley sunshine child
takes after his mother the most in looks, just like his sister
a chill type of gryffindor
plays quidditch, and is an excellent chaser, just like his mother
the absolute undisputed King™ of puppy-dog eyes
just,,,, beautiful
the True teacher’s pet
hands in his work on time,, asks lots of questions,,, likes helping students understand their work,, what a boy
can hella nyoom
runs so fast
look at him go
as you might expect, loves a good prank. always down for a laugh
Roxanne Weasley
Gryffindor and pROUD
absolute Queen tbh
was definitely Head Prefect or Gryffindor Prefect at some point
loved by the school
absolute legend
G I R L   P O W E R
infectious laughter
has a soft spot for Louis Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy
these poor disaster children,,,, they need a Mother
M O M
big mom vibes
mothers the hell out of all the first years
a feminist through and through
can be found nodding aggressively to Molly Weasley’s semi-deranged, furious ranting
YAAAASS
loves slang. uses so much slang. always up to date with trends and memes
has all the gossip
becomes a mess around pretty girls
absolute blushing, stuttering disaster around cute girls oh my god
her eye make-up game is killer
sparkly
Distinguished Lesbian
Rosie Weasley
did someone say Weasley™?
red hair and freckles and curls oh my
on the autism spectrum, has trouble socialising sometimes
hella passionate about stuff
hangs out with Scorpius and Albus, the Golden Trio 2.0
f em ini st
her jokes are the best. high quality sense of humour.
Ravenclaw
likes to read. it’s quiet in the school library, which is nice.
abysmal at herbology
surprisingly good at Care of Magical Creatures though? Animals are just,,, so much easier to deal with
overall, really good grades though
bit of a silent type, but she’s actually a riot to hang out with
actually pretty good at quidditch? She’s not on the team, and she’s not super interested in playing, but?? She’s not bad??
She can land a solid hit with a beater’s bat
(eyes you judgementally over the top of a book)
dry wit humour
will throw hands over chess
Hugo Weasley
hufflepuff
unbeatable at chess, like his dad
a lost puppy
someone please help this child
softie
kind of low-key emotional
so supportive!! and loyal!! high-key best friend material
foodie. loves food. please feed him.
takes a bit more after his dad appearance wise
loves to cook. spends lots of time with grandma Molly and his dad in the kitchen
Professor Longbottom is his favourite professor, because he’s more chilled and laidback.
other professors and classes fill him with Distress™
loves astronomy too
maths whizz, so good at arithmancy
(“uh, actually-“)
a little bossy, like his mother
is trying so hard
maybe a little too hard
a bit insecure and nervous, but so soft
please treat this child carefully and with love
James Sirius Potter
Gryffindor
L O U D
a fucking disaster child
what’d you expect, putting “James” and “Sirius” together?
DRAMATIC GASPING
flails his hands around when he talks
s t r u t s
bisexual mess, had a crush on both the Longbottom children at some point
is better than you at everything
including being a different gender
fuck you that’s why
so pretty
he’s so pretty
is thIS CHILD EVER NOT LAUGHING AT SOMETHING OH My god
laughs at everything
all the time
always
high-key emotional
badly timed finger guns
looks like a model in photos? wtf?
gets invited to Girls Nights™
wears nail polish and makeup
loves to yell at people about gender roles and defying stereotypes
TEA SIS
not on the quidditch team surprisingly enough, even though he’s pretty good
prefers to be in the stands, doing A+ commentary on the games
if he can get Fred to stop mid-air due to unbearable, suffocating laughter at least once a game it’s a win in his books
has it OUT for the hufflepuff quidditch team and no one knows why??
definitely makes puns on his name
it drives everyone insane
harry always replies he’s just making his namesake proud
that also drives everyone insane
smug lil shit
Albus Severus Potter
“It’s just Al.”
S L Y T H E R I N
will always find a way to get what he wants, eventually
“dad, why did you name me this way?”
unimpressed
sigh
hella smart. is topping at least five classes
Aunt Hermione is his favourite. She’s the fucking Mistress of Magic! All that power, the ability to make change and improve the Magical World as a whole-
sass master
the reason headmistress mcgonagall keeps a bottle of scotch under her desk at all times
the only potter child to inherit The Eyes™
absolute insomniac
kind of emo, but turns into a fucking softie around Scorpius Malfoy it’s hilarious
adverse to violence. prefers a verbal beatdown method
really tall? despite having shorties for parents??? no one saw it coming
(especially not Teddy. He’s always scared of losing his last few inches of height)
Functional Gay
he’s on the slytherin quidditch team, as a seeker
Lily Luna Potter
Gryffindor
FEMINIST
do not mess with lily luna potter
she may seem cute and sweet, but she will destroy you
inherited her father’s black hair
disaster lesbian
transfiguration is her favourite subject, by far
has no idea what she wants to do with the rest of her life.
Existential Crisis Father-Daughter Bonding Time™
do you ever sleep?
takes after Ginny the most in personality
also, kind of the most like James Fleamont Potter in personality, too?
Loves to help her brother out with pranks, laughs at him when he gets caught and she gets away with it
The only one of the Potter Children who hasn’t got into a fight with Severus Snape’s portrait
because she just ignores him instead
loves talking to the portraits around the castle
Super good at Quidditch, is on the team as a Chaser
Quidditch Captain at some point
adores Hagrid, but who out of the Potter children doesn’t?
Idolises Minerva McGonagall
just as oblivious as her father
Scorpius Malfoy
Actually in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin, much to many people’s surprise
abSOLUTE DADDY’S BOY
super close with his dad
Draco is just so supportive of like everything he does (unlike his father)
classic blonde malfoy looks
actually really funny?
a cuddler. loves hugs. always leeching warmth off of someone
he and Rosie sometimes finger-tip-touch which is their version of a hug, because he know’s she’s not super comfortable with touch
was basically adopted by the Weasley’s and Potter’s
James Sirius will murder for this child
booknerd, always rambling to Al and Rosie about new books coming out he’s interested in reading.
has had a crush on Albus Potter since like 1st year
always worried about making his dad proud, and keeping up the Malfoy name
sweet tooth
he’s just,, soft. just a warm, happy child. he wants love, and affection. someone tell him he’s doing okay, please.
needs,,, validation,,,
he’ll tell you out loud that he has no favourite aunts or uncles, but he secretly really likes spending time with his Uncle Ron
they had a talk, once, in like the middle of the night at a sleepover with Rosie and Al, about feeling insecure in comparison to others, and learning to be proud of yourself for your achievements
there were a few tears, but it was nice
Ron was actually the third person he told, besides his dad and Rosie, about having a crush on Al
openly a disaster romantic. trash taste in romance novels.
always welcome in the Potter-Weasley households
161 notes · View notes
ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years
Text
The Christmas Event, Part Three
For you Dex/Wright Farling people who have wondered how Dex and Wright got along early on, they, uh… didn’t. But the Christmas Event is the catalyst for the way everything else will change between them, and here is Part Three! 
This is a collaboration between @spiffythespook and myself. Wright Farling and Jordan are her OCs, while Dex and Karen Renford are mine. Please heed content warnings.
Karen is 28 in this piece, while Wright and Dex are 25 and 23 and Jordan is thirteen. 
CW: Aftermath of whump involving a minor, dehumanizing language, aftermath of noncon, pet whump, noncon touching, forced drinking
PART ONE PART TWO
Karen's work was beautiful - Dex was beautiful, in his careful submission, even now, after it all.
“We should clean up,” Wright said finally, with a sigh of contentment. He didn’t move his hands from Dex’s thighs yet, though, taking another look over the man in the warm light.
Everything was beautiful in this light. 
Wright dragged a couple fingers over the mess on Dex’s stomach - aware that it was on his own, too, and not caring - slipped his thumb over the sweat where leg met torso.
Dex had been in positions like this before, with Wright, and when he realized what Wright was doing with his fingers he started to open his mouth reflexively.
He caught himself when Wright's hand didn't move, and his teeth clicked together with how fast he shut it again.
Wright lingered, but finally he had to admit it was time to end this delightful moment. “Go ahead and use the bathroom downstairs. I’ll head upstairs. It’ll be easier on your back.”
Dex paused, clearly surprised, his eyes searching Wright's face. The lack of condescension, even momentary, in his tone was more unsettling than the violence Dex was always expecting, and the chance to have just a few minutes to himself - that Wright had given even the slightest damn whether something was easier on him or not…
He swallowed against an unfamiliar, horrifying little twist of something other than hatred. Then he signed, thank you, W-R-I-G-H-T with real, if conflicted, gratitude, as he shifted to lift himself off of Wright to try and stand.
“You’re welcome.” Wright smiled and tilted his head a bit as he watched Dex sign and try to stand. It was a good moment to save, that look on his face when he was surprised and uncertain, the struggle to get up.
He didn’t help, didn’t lift Dex’s hips for him, just watched.
"Do you have spare clothes, or do you think these will do?" He gestured to what was on the floor. “I have plenty to spare if not.” Wouldn’t it be funny, for him to wear Wright’s clothes? In front of Karen and Jordan, no less.
Dex stumbled a little getting to his feet - legs still wobbly and threatening to give out, as much from the aftermath of sex as from the ache now starting back up as the post-orgasm glow faded. He kept his eyes down - he didn’t have to see Wright’s face to know he was being watched. He flushed a little more under the attention.
It took serious determination for him to lean himself over to pick up the pants without just falling back onto the floor, but he managed it, his jaw set in a grim line, face paling at the pain. He opened his mouth to form an answer, then stopped, staring at the pants.
As he hesitated, he realized he could feel the mess on his stomach going cold, the cool stickiness on the inside of his legs. He took a shaky breath in, and then bundled the pants heedlessly close so he could sign. Blood. Can’t wear. She dislikes blood.
Wright’s caning to the backs of his thighs had drawn enough blood to show on the backs of the pantlegs. He glanced back at the folded sweater - he could probably wear that. Shirt is fine, he signed quickly, hands shaking just a little, stumbling through the motions. That would at least be something. He felt a cold weight in his stomach at the idea of spending the rest of this visit walking around in Wright Farling’s clothing, like he was Wright’s kept boy and not Karen’s at all.
“I understand,” Wright nodded, a gentleness to his tone that suggested compassion. “Go ahead to the bathroom. I’ll bring you pants to match.”
He stretched a bit and stood, about to get the sweater for Dex… but one hand had lube, and on the other, stickiness and sweat. He held them up, wrinkled his nose. “Sorry, can’t help.”
Wright did pick up his own clothes, shoved them under his arm, and left the room to head upstairs - where he took a fast shower and changed into fresh, then grabbed a spare pair of pants to bring on the way down.
Dex dropped the bloody pants into the hamper in Wright’s bathroom - he could take care of it himself, later, he usually acted as Wright’s own Domestic during these visits anyway.
He made it into the shower and under the spray of hot water before he finally started to silently cry, saltwater tears mixing with the water from the tap. He never made enough sound that you could have differentiated one from the other. The first thing Karen had ever taught him was to cry like this - silent and hidden - if he had to cry at all.
When Wright came back into the living room, the faint sound of the water running could still be heard in the hallway, Dex’s shower still going. Karen was back on the couch with a brand new opened bottle of wine at the ready, Wright’s glass already poured for him, and a sparkle of pure happiness in her eyes.
Wright paused in the hall, taking in the image to save - he needed more rooms for these moments. Moments when his darling looked so happy, and the background she rested in was controlled and beautiful. As things ought to be, that they might reflect her well.
She hadn’t bound Jordan - that was Wright’s specialty, hers was to hold in place by making her trainees simply too afraid of the consequences of moving - but she had placed him right back in the spot he’d been in when they arrived.
“I took the liberty of tossing your, ah, messy blanket in the washing machine for Dex to deal with later,” Karen said brightly. She glanced over at Jordan with a cold smile. “Kindness was not particularly enjoying what he could hear, so we took a bit of a walk on the other side of your house once I bandaged him up after his discipline. We had a very productive discussion about Dex and Jordan’s mistake. Don’t you think so, darling?” She asked, lilting her voice in a bit of a singsong in Jordan’s direction.
Jordan nodded, eyes on the floor. His voice trembled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Wright smiled and leaned against the hallway wall, ankles crossed in his calm. “That’s wonderful. Thank you, love, for taking such good care of him. I’m looking forward to his scars,” he said, tilting his head a bit. He noticed Jordan shudder, and a playful glint crossed his eye.
Then he walked away - no, he danced away, back to the bathroom.
Without warning to Dex, Wright opened the bathroom door and stuck his upper half in, tossed the pants onto the counter. “Here they are,” he said cheerfully, looking over the man’s silhouette in the fogged glass. “Take your time, darling.”
As quick as he was in, he was out again, the door closed. He walked to the couch with a bit of a spring in his step and sat, took up the wine, spent a moment staring at his friend.
Karen looked… languid, as close to the aftermath of sex as anyone would ever, in her entire life, see her. The opportunity to hurt without necessarily needing to follow a protocol came up so rarely with those who didn’t already belong to her that it was a gift, in her mind, to get the chance.
She looked right back at him, giving him a hint of an impish smile as she sipped the new wine slowly, savoring its warmth down her throat. “I hope Dex didn’t cause you too much trouble while we were out of the room,” She said - playfully but sincerely, too. “He’s been a pill recently at home. I probably should have warned you.”
“Oh, he was a nightmare. He said no to a command, fought me, swore, didn’t hold position… I swear I almost got him to talk…” Wright thought back and smiled, very content. “It was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Absolutely delightful.”
Wright’s gaze travelled over Jordan, taking in his wide eyes. “Hm. Eavesdropping, are we? What did you hear, Snitch?”
“N-nothing, sir,” he responded softly.
“There you go.”
Karen listened to Wright’s recitation of Dex’s sins with an expression of pure, unadulterated embarrassment. Whether Wright was happy with it or not, that was a sign that her work with Dex wasn’t truly finished, that she’d failed in some fundamental way at one of her first true success stories.  
“Wright… you of all people… I’m so sorry.” Her tone was genuine, meaningful. “I know you say it was enjoyable for you, but he should never have been able to fight back. I can’t even begin to-... in your home, no less. I’m just so embarrassed for him. I’m-... I’m so truly sorry. I need you to tell me, love.” She sat up, gravely serious, but there was the faintest looseness to her words that belied the fact that she’d always had a bit of a weakness with wine. “Were you able to discipline him? Do you believe he needs more? I, I can of course take him to my room early tonight…”
Only with Wright had Karen ever betrayed this much uncertainty in her voice.
Wright paused, sipping his wine and considering her words. He looked away, tried not to read her. Already, he had several answers formed that had little to do with Dex and everything to do with Karen. Dependency, devaluing, deception… the ways he could shatter her were endless, and he fought that. Just for a few moments.
“I… understand that you feel you’ve been… impolite. Of course I understand, but that’s… Well.” Obvious, because of who he was.
“I understand that you feel you’ve failed. I understand your urgency to correct that. I understand your embarrassment and affection-” oh, good. That was all true. Really, he had to lay all his cards on the table of what he saw in her, in order to not use them. “Frankly, I enjoy taking Dex apart. It wouldn’t be entertaining for me if he was perfect. I’m not disappointed in you, or your abilities, or in what you’ve made of him. I quite like all three.”
Another pause, another sip. Still, he didn’t look at her. Karen wasn’t for his reading pleasure. “Of course I was able to discipline him. I would actually prefer you didn’t correct him here - I have a… a little game I’ve just set up with him. I’d like to see it through. You’ll get to see the end of it - when you do discipline him, he’ll realize what I’ve told you. You should see that. His hatred - it’s beautiful. I’d like you to see it. You will, then. I think what he needs…”
Wright tapped the glass with his index finger. “He has a sense of justice which tells him he’s better than you or me. He’s protective over children-” he gestured at Jordan. “Break that, you’ll break him.”
His eyes shifted to hers, finally. And then his expression changed from the pensive, thoughtful openness to his usual charming façade.  
The embarrassment faded, watching him speak - Karen loved to watch Wright work his way through a thought, and she knew him well enough to know why he laid his thoughts out so carefully piece by piece.
Honestly, if she’d had the slightest interest in physicality, she might have tried to convince Wright to marry her despite his homosexuality, just to put herself in a place where she could see that intellect, cold and sharp as a diamond, at work every single day.
“A game,” She repeated, and then a smile returned as she tapped the rim of her glass with one fingernail, thinking. “Wright, I love your games. Fair enough. It’s gracious of you to accept my apology so readily. You know, love, what’s mine is yours when we’re here. I try to live up to the standard you’ve set with your own projects.”
Then she tilted her head and put a finger to her lips, her playfulness back in force.
Wright understood, and nodded a pleased thank-you. He tipped back his glass and poured afresh for both of them. He felt relieved that he’d managed to continue the friendship between them. One day, perhaps, he’d slip. Not today, not even with alcohol in his blood and looseness in his limbs after orgasm.
In the bathroom, Dex dried himself off carefully, slowly. He had to avoid touching his own back or thighs too much, and he knew that pulling the sweater back on was going to be absolute agony. And he’d have to do it in front of them, too.
He hissed through his teeth pulling Wright’s pants on - discomfited by how well they fit him, uncomfortable with the idea that he and Wright shared anything, even if only pants size. Even more uncomfortable when he glanced in the mirror and realized they looked… pretty good on him. But… still, he was confused and thrown off, uncertain and worried.
Wright could have let Karen see blood spots on him, and he hadn’t done that, and he’d left him alone long enough to get clean at all. As he fastened his collar back around his throat, Dex tried not to dwell too long on why.
Wright’s kindnesses were more frightening than his sadism ever could be.
Dex swallowed, dried off his face, and moved with carefully placed steps out into the hall. He could hear them talking - or Karen talking, anyway - but not quite what they said. He moved into the living room, keeping his eyes carefully off to the side. Thank you, he signed again to Wright, and went to pick the sweater up, gritting his teeth against the pain as leaning over pulled at his wounds.
“You’re welcome, Dex,” Wright smiled back, tilting his head as he observed the man’s pain, his careful movements. Bed was going to be painful for him, too. Wright was going to enjoy that. “You were very good for me in Karen’s absence.”
Dex froze - just for a second.
If Jordan reacted at all, it was to go even more still than before, in an attempt to not get caught listening, reacting. Wright noticed. He thought about sensory deprivation for later.
Dex’s eyes flickered to Wright for a second before they went back to the floor. He’d come in expecting Karen’s cold disapproval, to have some new pain doled out to teach him not to stand up to Wright again.
He hadn’t expected this - Wright lying about him.
Pulling the sweater over his head hurt, and badly, but he fought himself back from showing how much by grinding his teeth together and setting his jaw, looking more angry than anything else. Once it was pulled over his head - the cloth rubbing painfully against the marks on his back - he glanced to Karen, looking for orders.
She considered, then held up a finger to stop him right where he was and leapt up herself, disappearing back into the kitchen and reappearing a second later with a third wineglass, plus a third bottle of wine. “I have a feeling we’ll need this,” She said brightly, and poured a generous glass, pushing it across the table at Dex.
“Kneel over there,” She gestured aimlessly.
Dex looked down at the wineglass, then back up at her, eyebrows furrowing, going painfully to his knees next to the couch the two of them were sitting on, just between them and the table. I drink? He asked, his hands moving through the signs hesitantly, as he fought the pain of the stripes laid across his thighs resting now on his calves.
Karen shrugged. “Well, it is Christmas, after all, and Wright swears you’ve been exactly what he hoped for.” She sank back into the softness of the couch cushions with absolute contentment.
Dex’s fingertips touched the glass, pausing and staring into it as though expecting it to be drugged, before he lifted it to take a sip. He couldn’t remember ever having wine that wasn’t drugged.
Wright watched the entire interaction with his usual calculated interest and a large side of amusement. Karen played along beautifully. He’d never seen her drunk, because no one had seen her drunk. He liked this version of her as much as any other… perhaps more, with her boundaries down and her self unguarded.
He couldn’t bring himself to do more than sip. He wouldn’t trust himself out of control. Unguarded souls were so much fun to play with… and he hadn’t worked for what she exposed. She’d bared it to him herself.
To Wright, that was fucking romantic.
I could wreck her tonight. I could be done by morning. I know so much of her already.
No. No, no, no.
Wright focused his eyes on Dex instead. Dex, he could take apart without repercussions. “How is the taste?”
Dex blinked in surprise, that anyone was speaking to him. The first taste had been bitter but smooth at the same time - not sweet at all, so more like the dry wines that Karen drank at home. Dex never drank any of them… he took another sip, and signed, mouthing along, I don’t know. I don’t think I like it.
“I’m not particularly interested in whether or not you do,” Karen said, her voice slightly airy. “Wine is acquired, Dex. No one likes their first glass of wine. Most of us just get to remember having it.”
Dex’s eyes went away from the two of them, back to the tree, grounding himself with the way he could look at the lights and unfocus his eyes, circles of white he could fixate on against a blurry green.
“You’ll finish it, Dex.” Karen’s voice had an edge. “This is a gift.”
Dex nodded quickly - the fight he could show with Wright was buried deep down with Karen, nonexistent - and took another sip, forcing himself to take a bigger one this time. By the fifth or sixth drink, he had to admit it seemed like the wine was tasting… better.
Wright floated, a bit. He could see too much, he could do too little. He mostly focused on Jordan’s little twitches and trembles, the way the boy was trying to eye Dex at points he thought Wright wouldn’t notice. They’d made so much progress, but that boy. His Kindness and his ratting worked hand-in-hand, because they had from the beginning, because that’s the pattern he had set for himself. Ratting out of kindness on one boy, jeopardizing the life of another.
He observed Dex, too. He observed the effect Karen had on Dex, but he didn’t observe her. He wanted to observe her, but that wasn’t… no, he couldn’t observe without manipulating, and he was unwilling to do the latter.
“Better now, hm?” he murmured to Dex, eyes half-hooded. He ran his toe up the outside of the man’s thigh. He wanted his time with Karen. And yet.
Dex jumped, slightly, but then set his jaw back to something closer to grim and glanced over at him, hiding his confusion behind something like a blank emptiness on his face. He nodded, looking over at Karen, then back at Wright. There was something he wasn’t quite picking up on, couldn’t get his mind around. With Karen’s eyes on him, he drank quickly, nervously.
To break a moment that felt like a weight about to fall on him, Dex set the wineglass down and glanced between them. You want to eat? He gestured at the meat and cheese tray, still out on the coffee table. I can get plates, we forgot plates before. I know where plates are.
He needed to get out of this room.
Dex might be the only person here who had seen Karen drink enough wine to really feel it, and he was smart enough to know she was more dangerous drunk, not less.
Oh, god. Wright was slow, too busy thinking and arguing with himself. Now there was Jordan and Karen, and his fucking brain wouldn’t shut off. He looked over at Karen, briefly. Very briefly - that was stupid - and then he called Jordan over. Jordan came obediently, shuffling on his knees as he was supposed to.
He didn’t put weight on his hands, though, and that clued Wright in on the damage.
The bandages were running up his arms. Of all the things he didn’t notice in a room…
Wright blinked when Jordan was in front of him - there were his thoughts, and he was losing time to them - and he leaned forward, elbows on his legs and hands open. “Show me.”
Jordan swallowed and put his trembling hands in Wright’s, not looking at the man’s eyes.
He wasn’t God, he couldn’t see the damage under the bandages. But he could see it in Jordan. “Show me,” he said again, picking up the boy’s left hand and then pointing with his own finger at the boy’s right hand, tracing. So Jordan traced the wounds, and Wright watched them open and bleed and water rinse the blood away. He sat back when he had the picture in his mind.
Dex hadn’t been given permission to go get the plates - to do anything - and remained on his knees next to the coffee table, tensing visibly when Jordan crossed the room on his knees. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Wright force one of his projects - the innocent children he was torturing - to move on their knees, but it never stopped being infuriating to witness, to be able to do nothing about it.
Dex at least knew, to some vague extent, that his own situation was voluntary. These boys had done nothing but be born somewhere Wright Farling could reach them.
He picked up the wineglass and drank the rest of it all at once, able to ignore the taste of it if he just drank fast enough for the liquid to mostly bypass his tongue entirely. He fought the urge to slam the glass down and break out, the anger that had died out of him earlier nearly back in full force. Instead, he placed it carefully, quietly back on the table, with a hand that trembled just slightly.
Karen watched Jordan move with an entirely different expression on her face - a deep admiration, amusement. She was entertained. Jordan might as well have been a different boy entirely the first time she’d met him, but he was coming along so nicely now. “What a sweetheart,” She murmured, sipping her own glass quite happily. “He did very well, Wright. Held still as long as anyone could be expected to at his age, kept very quiet right up until the end… I was very impressed with how well-trained he is. When I told him to listen, he was very attentive, too.”
That might have had something to do with the knife she was still holding, dripping his blood, but she had definitely held his attention.
“Very good,” he murmured, slipping his hand into Jordan’s hair to pet him. Just once. Jordan flinched a little, but otherwise didn’t show his discomfort. He stared at Wright’s hand under his own. “I’m glad he was good for you, love. He’s not finished, but he’s coming along.”
Wright was silent a moment, before he realized he’d automatically cut Dex out of the room when he’d signed that he would get plates. Dex hadn’t gone to get plates, no… Dex was right beside him. He was within Jordan’s reach.
With a little laugh, Wright shook his head and set both his hands down, away from Jordan. “Pet the dog, Kindness.”
The boy’s eyes flicked up at Wright’s face, stayed just below the man’s eyes and locked on his chin. He could see from the expression that Master was not joking, even if he’d laughed along with the command. He felt frozen, though. Pet the dog? He swallowed and looked over at Dex, clenching his teeth together and feeling… sad, frustrated, upset.
Jordan hung his head a moment, then pressed his cheek to Wright’s knee - the only way he could get permission to ask a question.
Wright paused, sighed, and then shook his head. “No. You may not. Pet the dog.”
The boy wet his lips, blinked back tears, and slowly reached to pat Dex’s head. He was cautious, not wanting to hurt his hand and hoping Dex wouldn’t push him away. He had to be good.
Dex’s eyes had skipped up to Wright’s face in surprise at the command, and then dropped again. The humiliation was strong, but stronger was the anger. The same way he felt sometimes at Karen’s parties, when her coworkers came with their pets and their children in tow, the kids taught to treat the pets the same way their parents did.
Wright Farling was a disease, trying to spread. Or some kind of mold growing into the cracks inside of people, using children like toys.
If he’s a disease, he’s a disease you’ve had inside you, his mind reminded him, and Dex’s face flared red again.
He'd had Wright inside of him and loved the feeling, too. He swallowed that thought back, forced it away and behind the wall where everything he wasn’t allowed to think lived.
The rage in him dropped when he looked at Jordan, and he ducked his head, bending over even as the marks on his back became a flash of deep pain, making it easier for the boy to pet him without having to press too hard with his injured hand. Jordan pet his head gently, just a couple times, and pulled his hand back like he’d stuck it into a fire.
Karen watched in silence, considering this, something thoughtful back in her face, the impish mischief fading back to the Karen Renford most people saw - cold, and calculating, always making a new plan, looking for the parts of people that did not quite fit together.
“Good boy, Dex,” She said softly, running her finger around the rim of her wineglass until it began to hum and finally to make a real note, to nearly sing. “But I think you can be lower than that. Lay down.”
Dex stared up at her, grinding his teeth together - met by Karen’s cold, implacable certainty that her orders would be obeyed. If he was scared of pushing Wright any further than he already had, he was terrified of pushing Karen at all.
And she knew it.
Dex slowly shifted his legs out from underneath him, moving onto his hands and knees and then lowering himself to his stomach on the floor.
Jordan watched, quivering, blinking rapidly to stop his tears. He felt so bad for the other captive. He understood that he had done things wrong, that he’d hurt other people and that was awful, he wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. Wright would fix the part inside of Jordan that hurt people. But Dex wasn’t going to be fixed. He was going to be hurt, and hurt, and it wouldn’t ever stop.
He wished he could help, but he couldn’t. Maybe if he was good, if he got the freedom they talked about - Master and Karen - maybe he could help then. For now, he had to obey when Master laughed and told him to pet Dex again.
Dex closed his eyes this time, swallowing hard at the hesitant run of Jordan's fingers through his hair.
“Good boy, Kindness,” Wright murmured, when Jordan pulled his hand back a second time. He swallowed and trembled harder, his eyes tearing up. Master took a special interest in tears. “Look at me, love,” he murmured, predictably.
Jordan did, and he felt it break in him like every other time - an onslaught of tears with no sobs allowed to accompany them if he was around other people. Master hummed and stroked his cheek.
“Good boy. That’s enough, now. Go back to your room and clip yourself,” he commanded. Jordan nodded, blinking away the blur in his eyes. He was relieved that he’d get to be alone, relieved that he didn’t have to cause Dex any more suffering.
He would try to apologize later, if he got the chance.
He shuffled on his knees down the hall, to the Room, and struggled with the door handle several moments before he got inside. He closed the door behind himself and moved on his knees to his leash. The light was always on in here. The leash was very difficult to pull the clip on with his hands shaking. He tied it around his collar instead.
Wright sat back again, content.
Freshly finished with that game, he looked over at Karen and felt no desire to manipulate her. He smiled at her and drank more wine.
Dex kept his eyes closed, against the heat and humiliation, until Karen poured more into his glass and commanded him to drink.
Drink he did, and hoped the wine would wash away the sense of Wright Farling still covering his skin.
41 notes · View notes
razorblade180 · 4 years
Text
Twin Snowflakes pt10: Expedited Exam pt1
“Thank you miss!” a group of three kids say with crumbs on their face and new red coats. Summer kneels down and wipes the middle child’s face, making him giggle. No problem little ones. I wish I could do more but this is all I have for now. Stay warm and go back to that that nice man’s mechanic shop if you ever need help okay?
“Okay.” They give her a big hug before running off.
Summer:Phew! That makes twenty five. I wish I had brought more money. Starting to run low.
Winter:You could swipe your card.
Summer:I never bring it down here. That little boy just now, last time he stole it.
Winter:What!?
Summer:Yeah it caught me by surprise when it happened the first time. Hehe It’s a good thing a little kid with a SDC credit card is highly suspicious. Those three tried buying an entire grocery story.
Winter:And you still let him hug you?
Summer:Everyone needs a good hug. Now let’s go to the la-
“Ms?” A small voice called out her from behind her w gave Summer a little scare. It was a little girl’s doing. Her face was all dirty and her black hair was unkept. Tiredness was in her big golden eyes.
Summer:H...hi. I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you okay? What’s your name.
Ruth:M..my is Ruth. *shivering*
Summer:Ruth huh? Where did you come from.
Ruth:My parents they....lost all their money. So they lost me too.
Winter:*frowning* That’s...terrible. They didn’t even give you to law enforcement or an orphanage?
Ruth:They did, but it’s hard there. I don’t like it at all. So I left.
Summer:You look cold. *unzipping jacket*
Winter:What are you-
Summer wrapped her over sized jacket around the kid. She couldn’t be older than twelve. Maybe even ten. The warm fire dust glowed and made Ruth’s eyes widen. Summer smiledat the reaction. “Pretty cool right?” A sudden weight rested on her back. She looked up to see Winter standing over them both without her military coat on. Summer chuckled bashfully at Winter’s exhausted expression.
Summer:Whoops. I’m probably stressing you out a little huh?
Winter:More than a little. Better safe than sorry.
Ruth:Th...Thank you.
Summer:The cold is a dangerous thing. Can’t let it get too close now can we? This might not fit you but hey, it’ll make a good blanket this way. Tell me, do you know the name of the orphanage?
Ruth:S...Saint Harold’s.
Summer:I’ll tell you what. If you go back there then I’ll promise I’ll do everything I can to make sure it gets a bunch of nice things so you won’t want to runaway. I might not look like it, but I’m super good at getting nice things.
Ruth:You’ll do that?
Summer:Of course! I would never lie, it would ruin my image.
Winter:And you were raised better than that.
Summer:I was getting to that part hehe. So, do we have a deal little lady?
Ruth:....You’re really gonna help out.
Summer:It’s an Arc promise. That’s worth like a hundred pinky promises. But if you want more convincing then we can make it a hundred and one.
She takes off one glove and holds out pinky in front her then wiggles it. Ruth simply stare at for a moment before it registers that she’s supposed to do it back. The tiny girl extends her pinky and watches Summer curl them around each other and give it a little tug. Something about the whole situation makes Ruth smile deep down. ‘This lady, she’s so sweet. Like an Angel.’
Summer:There we go. A hundred and one promises. Now do we have a deal?
Ruth:Y...Yes ma’am! Can you walk back with me?
Summer:I-
Oh yes, I wouldn’t mind seeing such a place. Every floor, every room, child....
......
Winter:Summer?
Summer:Huh? Sorry....spaced out for a second.
Ruth:Wow, your pinky is really cold.
Summer*lets go* Sorry about that. *puts on glove* As much as I would love to, I have to go do something really important. It’s another promise I have to keep. My Auntie would be more than happy to though; right Winter?
Winter:Are you sure?
Summer:Don’t worry about me. We’ll go to the lake some other time. I should be heading home anyways. I’ll someone and wait somewhere warm.
Winter:.....
Summer:Do I have to make a promise with you too?
Winter:I believe you, be careful though. Now then Ruth, you wanna hold my hand or be carried?
Ruth:*pouts* I am way too old to be carried.
Winter:A big girl? Okay then. Lead the way then.
Ruth:*grabs her hand* Foward march!
Winter:Hehe looks like I found a little trooper too. *walking off*
Summer:(On my own yet again.)
We both know that’s not true...when are you ever truly alone?
Summer:(Shut it....)
xxxx
“Order up. One hot chocolate, extra steaming for Schnee?”
“Thanks..” Summer said tossing what little cash she had left on the counter.
One of these days those are gonna make you f-
Summer takes a long sip of the beverage to the point she tips her head back a little. The barista’s jaw left open in amazement. “D..doesn’t that burn?” Summer finally puts the cup away and down on the counter. “If only.”
The sound of automated bells went off as the front door open. “There’s my niece; isn’t it a school day?” She turned around to see her uncle in a pristine white suit and red tie with a ice blue shirt under it. His hair was combed to the side and most importantly, his face was free of facial hair.
Summer:Hey uncle Whitley. Oh you know how school and I mix. We don’t. You look nice. Wait are you heading to work? I could’ve called someone else to pick me up.
Whitley:It’s fine. Not like they can fire me for being late. Besides, I was already picking up someone else. *steps aside*
Nick:......
Summer:.....Before you give me the “go to school” lecture, can you buy me another drink?
Nick:....I would give you that speech, but I have a better one in mind.
Summer:Do I still get a refill?
xxxx
Summer:That’s insane Nicholas. *sips drink*
Nick:Or maybe it’s genius.
Whitley:It sounds perfect insane time me.
Nick:Hey! This is a back of the limo conversation.
Whitley:I should hit the brakes for that but have it your way.
Summer:He’s right though. Just take the normal exam. You’re just gonna use the free time you created to do more work. Do you know what taking a break is?
Nick:No but I know the answer to all questions on the science test! Do you?
Summer:Yeah. Because I can learn everything in class the day it’s presented.
Nick:You should take tougher classes.
Summer:Gross. Learn to optimize learning. Maybe if you relaxed regularly then your brain could absorb information easier.
Nick:Never! This could be a win on multiple levels you see? I get more things done, Valerie feels even for me saving her-
Summer:Saving her?
Nick:She almost got ran over by some idiot driver on the way to school.
Summer:WHAT!?
Nick:Yeah it was crazy. It was a mustang with a bird on the side or something. That’s not the point. You also get a win because then you don’t have be in the women’s locker room and deal with that drama; which I wish you told someone about.
Summer:I mean.....I told Valerie
Nick:Ok well, I wish you told me.
Summer:Why?
Nick:Be...because........
Summer:?
The limo went silent and the boy seemed more frayed then usual l. He rubbed his fingers through his long messy hair before pulling out fifty lien and holding it front of Summer. “Please take it.” It wasn’t bribe money to help him. No, it was what they always did when they wanted a conversation topic to die.
Summer:The Throwaway Question? What is so hard about answering what I said.
Nick:Please just take the money and forget about it? I don’t have the energy to have that talk so let’s not have it. I always accept your money.
Summer:....*takes money* You get off easy this time but be ready if this topic gets brought up again.
Nick:*leans against window* I know I know. So, you really aren’t gonna help me with this? It’s perfect practice for the tournament for the both of us. Plus when is the last time the three of us got to fight together. I get tired seeing a tomahawk flying at my face; sometimes I want to see it helping me and not dropping my aura into the red.
Summer:You sound so bitter right now.
Nick:I’m winning gold in that tournament even if it fucking kills me! Oops, sorry uncle.
Whitley:I ain’t your parents.
Summer:....How bad do you want this to happen.
Nick:I don’t like the way you said that. What do you want?
Summer:I need your help with something.
Nick:I’m not singing.
Summer:You are literally the worst sometimes. You don’t even know what the cause is for!
Nick:Ugh, what’s the cause?
Summer:I’m thinking we get a little fundraiser going to get money for Mantle. Specially the food drives and an orphanage called Saint Harold’s.
Whitley:An orphanage? What brought that idea up.
Summer:I met a girl who recently has been placed there. I promised her that I would make it a nice place; I Arc promised.
Nick:Crap, you would. Now I’m obligated to help. *sinks into seat* can’t we just write a check? I don’t wanna sing.
Summer:That’s not fun.
Nick:When would I have the time to even put a fundraiser together. I’m a busy guy.
Summer:Uggh, I hate it when you’re right.
Whitley:Whatever check you two write, I’ll double it.
Summer:Really!?
Whitley:I’m usually holding back molding on meaningless events and it gets board members angry. You’d be giving me a valid excuse. Plus it’s a good use of our money.
Summer:Thanks, that means a lot. *smiles*
Nick:Am I off the hook?
Summer:Not even close. If I do this then that means I’m not singing at the tournament, so stop bugging me about it.
Whitley:Doesn’t that put him in the same position of messing up his schedule? Now he has to find something to fill that slot and make sure it’s good.
Nick:I apologize for trying to not include you in this conversation.
Whitley:I know. I don’t understand why you don’t duet with your sister at the tournament.
Nick:I take it back. Stop giving her ideas.
Summer:Too late! Those are my conditions. Take it or leave it.
Nick starts chewing on his lip as Summer offers a formal handshake. The deal wasn’t terrible. It only meant he’d be doing at minimum two tough matches and was still expected to entertain a crowd. That’s a tiring day; not to mention singing rehearsal. Knowing his sister, she probably won’t put him through the ringer. This exam does take care of practice as well.
Summer:So we shaking hands or not?
Nick:Don’t make me try any high notes.
Summer:Deal!
Nick:*shakes hand* Good, now you better be ready for tomorrow. I’m pretty sure we only get one shot at this.
Summer:I have a feeling you already have a plan to pass.
Nick:Oh Summer, when don’t I have a plan?
xxxx
The afternoon dragged on into night. Nicholas has spent hours with Summer and Valerie on face time to discuss their plans for tomorrow’s victory. Eventually all three of them called it a night and finally went to bed. Some of them a bit anxious about the whole thing; while others were anxious about school in general.
However night was just starting for Veronica was still on the open seas. Her gaze fixated on the moon’s reflection on the water and the dispersed glaciers everywhere. A sign that the boat was indeed getting closer to its intended destination. Two floor easels are propt up on each side of Veronica while a pencil and notebook are at the ready in her hands. She began drawing and sketching diligently; gaining ideas with each stroke until a shadow loomed over the immediate area.
Veronica:You’re blocking the light ma.
A new light quickly pushed away the darkness. Veronica smiled and looked up to see Yang looking at sketches littered everywhere; her hair glowing beautifully. Veronica went back to working.
Veronica:That works too I suppose. Always showing off. Not like I’m one to talk.
Yang:What are you working on?
Veronica:Concepts for a new fashion line. The water and scenery is the perfect cool color scheme to contrast the fiery design I want to create.
Yang:Fiery? Well I-
Veronica:Nope, won’t work. Not to put you down but your flames are a bit boring.
Yang:Boring!!?
Veronica:Seem them all my life. A grand inferno of some sort. I’m hoping the glow of Mantle’s warm glow from its heat generators against the tundra is what will do the trick.
Yang:Inspiration? That’s what motivated you to go on this trip? Menagerie getting too cramped for you?
Veronica:Something like that. I was always too much for that place anyway. Not that Solitas is exactly better. Airships roaring hourly, and the people frankly aren’t my kind of crowd for obvious reasons.
Yang:One person from Atlas definitely has your attention in a good way. As for the other...
Veronica:*flips page* I know what you’re doing. I rather not think about either of them right now. Too busy concentrat-
Her pencil breaks as she finishes another outline. Slowly her grip on it tightens intensely before she takes a deep breath and sets it down. Veronica’s hand reaches for her tail and rubs it rhythmically as she continued looking at the moon.
Yang:Blake told me something interesting before we left. About why she’s usually the one who doesn’t have to try too hard to get you to pipe up. I hope you know... I’ll listen to whatever you want to talk about. Including the emotional stuff. Everyone gets that way.
Veronica:I know that.
Yang:Still gonna be tight lipped though I see.
Veronica:No, there’s nothing to talk about. Just enjoying the view. The full moon never looked prettier than tonight.
Yang:Full moons still freak me out. The fact the gods fixed it as proof of their power is crazy. Even I almost wanted to kneel to them.
Veronica:I’d be more impressed if they did something meaningful instead of correcting their own foolish mistake. Anyways, when will we get to Atlas?
Yang:Ships slow down from here because of the glaciers. Then we port and take an airship. We still have plenty of time to kill. Wanna grab some dinner? The captain is eating with everyone tonight. I’m sure his fancy outfit has something interesting you might find.
Veronica:I’ve seen it already. It’s very tacky and daft. A far cry from even my earliest work.
Yang:I bet it’s more cost efficient at the very least. I mean those outfits in your room-
Veronica:Will be worth every last lien it took to obtain those necessary materials. Not every day I get use Grade A stuff. If all goes well then my pieces will notoriety and I can by better stuff.
Yang:You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you? I’m proud.
Veronica:*smiles* Of course you are. I’m great. Now if you excuse me...
She gathers all her belongings in a way everything touches each other. Her hand rests on top of it all and the items sink into the floor along with her. “I’m going to lay down.”
Yang:I’ll bring some food to your room later.
Veronica:Thanks. *vanishes*
Yang’s eyes looked towards the railing of the ship. Veronica’s pencil still rested on top motionless. “She forgot her pencil? That’s re-” The moment her finger grazed it, the pencil shattered and the railing was cracked.
Yang:Sigh...hard to read and fiery inside. I wish she’d simmer down. It’s like I’m dealing with mom. *rubbing her head* Oh geez, I really have become dad....
xxxx
Harriet:So, you actually managed to talk them into it?
“Yep!” Nicholas said proudly as he pumped his fist outward. The trio stood on the track ready for their exam; each of them in their standard fighting clothes instead of school uniforms. Not that Nichola’s clothes make too much of a difference. Semi formal is typically his style after all. His mostly white pants and shirt were replaced with icy blue this time around. His vest abandoned. He had a feeling that he’ll end up thrown into the ground before his friends finish the battle. Nick took the first three buttons on his shirt and undid them. As well as slicked his messy hair back. “I’m gonna take this seriously from the jump!” The cold edge of Mort Froide already unsheathed and lightly scraping the ground at his feet.
Valerie stood ready in a light brown coat with fur around the collar, sleeves, and bottom rim. Underneath is a pink shirt with a white lightning pattern that makes it look like it’s cracking. Navy blue leather pants and light brown fur boots complete the look. A pair of blue matching leather holsters on held her twin tomahawks nicely across her back; accessible at any given moment. “I can’t believe we’re actually attempting this.”‘excitement and wariness crept from her voice. “Might as well hand us diplomas if we manage to win.”
Summer wore a similar outfit to yesterday. Thermals and all, except for jacket that was still in Ruth’s possession. It was gonna be a bit hard to explain to Penny how the newest creations she made had already been lost. Penny was nice but Summer knew she was in for a earful whenever she eventually has to ask for another one. Her left hand rested on the blade at her hip. “I honestly don’t remember any class of Paladin being this big. It’s at least one and half times the size of a fully matured Goliath.”
Her keen eyes scouted their soon to be battlefield. It makes sense to use the track area. Plenty of space. Still, every thing about gym still irritated her to no end.
Harriet:Summer, I’m glad you could make it to my class finally. Even if it is after school.
Summer:Teach....you look lovely today.
Harriet:......
Summer:Sigh....I’ll show up to class.
Harriet:You promise?
Summer:An Arc can’t go making promises willy nilly. But I assure you that there’s no need to worry. I won’t try to cause any more problems.
Harriet:We’ll see about that. I’m not gonna give you too much of a hard time about it. Focus on the task at hand and depending on how this goes I might sweep a few absences under the rug. Maybe turn a couple zeros in your grade book to something more pleasant.
Summer:Really? Yes ma’am! I appreciate the generosity.
Harriet:*smiles* You three will start the moment you move your feet or when the five minutes timer I start beeps. I’ll be up on the bleachers the entire time watching to make sure everything goes fine. The Paladin as your data uploaded into it. That means it knows your aura level; it’ll stop targeting you once you are in the red. Remember, all of you will still pass if only one of you remains when it’s defeated; individual letter grades will be different depending how much you fumble through this. I suggest you take this time discussion any plan of attack. Break a leg.*walks off* Not really though!
Summer: Five minutes. Wanna go over the game plan one more time?
Valerie:Didn’t commit it to memory last night Snow Princess?
Summer:You were the one dozing in and out during the video call. Do you remember everything?
Valerie:*red* Hehehe, ya got me. Nicholas...?
Nicholas:The Paladin is equipped with rubber bullets, stun lasers, concussion grenade, and thrusters for maneuverability. Not to mention it could just out right hit us with its body. It is made out of the finest metal; annoyingly hard to scratch. Fortunately, so are our weapons.
Summer:One lap around the track is three miles and the Paladin starts in the middle. No doubt able to attack with at least it’s bullets and maybe it’s laser from that position. Long ways, going from one end of the track to the other his half the distance, 1.5 miles, or 7920 feet.
Valerie:If it’s in the middle then we’re actually going .75 miles, 3960 feet. Definitely within laser range.
Nicholas:Traveling .75 miles is also the total distance walking across the track going from the short ways. Making reaching the center .375 miles, 1980 feet wouldn’t be too unbelievable for its concussion grenades to reach us.
Summer:Spatial awareness is everything. We can bait out certain attacks to deplete its ammo. Adjusting accordingly, even when it moves. So let’s-
Valerie:That’s right! Keep different distances from different positions. I knew I’d remember eventually. We’ll rotate between long, mid, and close range when necessary. I’ll get in close.
Nicholas:I’ll start in midrange
Summer:Leave long range to me then. I’ll cover both of you so don’t worry.
Harriet: 30 seconds!
Nicholas:Looks like we’re good to go. Valerie, Summer you’re sort of cornerstones of this.
Valerie:Huh?
Summer:What’s that mean?
Nick:As long as you’re the one watching me Summer then I know you’ll never let me fall. You seem to always give me what I need before even I do. Reading each other is second nature at this point. Valerie, your pure strength and will has always inspired me during any battlefield or boring situation. That’s why I push myself, so I can keep up. Let me not forget how amazing your semblance is as well. Couch Bree wanted both of you for this because she knows the three of us are a force to be recognized. Passing this exam was never insane in my eyes. So thanks for believing in me. I’ll do all that I can.
Harriet: 10 seconds!!!
The two of them were stunned by his words. His genuine confession of his feelings about the pair. Summer’s eyes looked like they were dancing while Valerie couldn’t help but be a little touched by the praise. It was lucky that the cool air already had her face a bit red. They locked eyes and gave a smile as well as a nod. They weren’t going to misplace trust.
Harriet:Three!!!!
Valerie:We got this.
Harriet:Two!!!
Summer:Easy A
Harriet:One!!!
Nicholas:Let’s get to it then...
Harriet:Beg-
All three dash at the same time. Valerie straight ahead, Summer to the far left end, and Nicholas around to the right. “ LET’S GO!”
Part 9
26 notes · View notes
cohentm · 4 years
Text
✮     ∷     ╰  𝖈𝖔𝖍𝖊𝖓  &  𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖜  :  
a connection  /  plot masterlist  .
              oof hey babies! i’m making this post so y’all know exactly how i’m breaking down the plots i have so far. i jotted down fulfilled connections, followed by the people i know i’m still in the midst of plotting with ( labeled “tba,” will be updated once we’ve decided on a backstory ), & at the end i listed some wanted connection ideas! even if you see your character on this list, though, and you’re like miss bri.... i want to change / add to / alter / etc that paragraph u wrote... especially if u see a wanted connection and you’re like whew i kinda want that now.... puhlease lmk. i’m down for absolutely anything & everything. mwah. x
𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘.
parker  ,  ride or die  .  
these two could be a tag team duo if they wanted to be--and practically are when it comes down to it. cohen isn’t scared to get into a fight just because parker’s already there. parker’s hotheadedness and cohen’s will to throw a punch have been melding since the earliest of days, when parker was getting into abrupt locker room fights with their own teammates, even. cohen, being the type who can’t avoid starting shit with those same teammates, never found himself pooling more blame into parker’s bucket. instead, cohen sympathizes the only way he knows how: by holding out his hand and letting parker know that cohen doesn’t need a rhyme or reason to have parker’s back. for cohen nowadays, it’s just on sight. 
olivia  ,  meeting in the middle  /  opposites attract  .
the truth is, olivia should absolutely hate cohen, and cohen should absolutely hate olivia. she’s all warmth & sunlight and he’s all hasty reactions & tunnel vision. but for some reason, olivia has managed to penetrate his demeanor without even trying. he tries to be marginally “better” whenever he crosses her path. when they speak, he finds himself thinking things out a fraction deeper before he throws the whole idea / person / situation in the garbage like the pessimist / self-acclaimed “realist” he is. at parties, he’s the first to jump into a fight, but with olivia’s soft touch, he hesitates. he doesn’t know what it is about her, but she makes himself second guess himself ( often for the better ).
finn  ,  chaotic neutral  &  neutral evil friendship  .
if there’s one person cohen can stand for extended periods of time, it’s finn. finn’s chaotic neutral personality melds with cohen’s neutral evil personality seamlessly. oftentimes, finn and cohen are the duo at the party nodding at each other from across the room because a situation is escalating and cohen’s already rolling up his sleeves prepping to knock someone out for the hell of it. no matter what, finn’s a non-team member cohen’s constantly catching himself leaning on a little. he doesn’t feel like he has to watch his mouth around finn, let alone feel guilty for something like a consistently dirty car ( LXFMDFG ), which is a refreshing feeling cohen doesn’t often run into.
leo  ,  harsh truth-tellers  .
it isn’t uncommon for cohen to bump into leo, given his record for getting called off the field. coach tended to send him to the locker room with a physical therapist just to hide the fact that what cohen was actually getting called off for was excessive anger during a game. leo’s a hardass just like cohen, though, which makes speaking to her simultaneously easier and harder--since she’s bound to knock heads with him, but also give it back just the way he takes it. if there’s one thing cohen’s an expert at in their tedious relationship, though, it’s judging leo for all she’s worth. part of him loves the fact that she keeps herself so upright, after all, so when she’s simping hard and cohen feels she’s dwelling or losing track of herself just to appease people who treat her like shit, cohen’s never been afraid to let her know. this gives their relationship a rocky little twist, but cohen doesn’t shy from the truth.
summer  ,  no strings flirtationship  (  ft. mild to severe seemingly unrequited pining  )  .
summer and cohen have always been oddly close in a way that cohen isn’t close with anyone else. in high school, in a dramatic effort to push summer away after too many a repeated fling, cohen invited summer to his chaotic home. however, poised as she was, she remained entirely unphased by his chaotic living situation & family. since then, cohen has felt more uncomfortably comfortable around summer than he has around anyone else. she continuously manages to seep into his life all on her own. they sleep together casually on occasion, often fight “playfully” in an effort to egg each other on, and tend to open up to each other entirely unprecedently.
clara  ,  ex-girlfriend circa cohen’s sophomore year of college ( two years ago )  &  family friends  .
cohen and clara have been linked via their love for each other’s sibling since high school. clara was always best friends with his sister natalie, and he was always best friends with her brother cam. although clara was a consistent aspect in cohen’s life, they never got together until clara’s senior year of high school, which was subsequently cohen’s sophomore year of college. cohen was convinced he’d make it with her ( which is a rarity in & of itself ) much longer than they actually ended up making it, since cam died a year into their official relationship, sending both cohen and clara spiralling in entirely separate directions. 
renee  ,  PLOTTING ENSUING  !  TBA  .
tyler  ,  PLOTTING ENSUING  !  TBA  .
rafael  ,  PLOTTING ENSUING  !  TBA  .
devon  ,  cousins  .
georgia  ,  PLOTTING ENSUING  !  TBA  .
𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘.
childhood best friends  and/or  cousins  :  someone cohen knows very deeply, and vice versa. maybe they lived in the same trailer park, maybe your muse’s rich family is related or connected, somehow to his poor cowboy redneck family ( maybe his construction worker dad was drunk on the job and now ur muse’s family thinks of his alcoholic messy parents as nuisances? maybe his parents think ur muse’s parents are too posh and hate their guts? ), maybe their families don’t get along.... maybe their families DO get along and ur muse is someone his parents ask after and talk about constantly! the possibilities are endless. regardless, though, this muse and cohen grew up playing together, smoking cigarettes ( or ur muse watching 12 y/o cohen smoke a cig MVLKFDG ), pretending to be grown because cohen FELT like he was grown by the time he could speak clear sentences, etc. cohen’s family’s a mess but they’re a family all the same. they may fight and drink constantly, but at the end of the day you can find them outside their trailers sitting in camping chairs drinking budweiser around a campfire and making fun of each other.
unrequited  /  secret  /  forbidden crush  :  maybe your muse secretly liked cohen and never said anything, maybe cohen secretly liked your muse and never said anything, etc. bonus points if your muse’s family knows cohen has a whole ass petty criminal record a la ryan from the o.c. and would absolutely throw a fit if they saw their kid even looking in cohen jetson’s general vicinity for too long. LKMDFK how they each deal with their crush today is totally up to us.
bail out  :  someone who vouches for cohen even when he’s getting into the worst kind of trouble. maybe they’ve caught him coming down from a high ( he used to take athletic stimulants for energy & performance, and is currently eight months into his most recent recovery / rehab attempt ) and have kept the fact that they saw him using on the dl in an effort to give him a chance to be better without getting kicked off the team. maybe they’ve given him a ride home from jail after getting picked up for fighting or public drunkenness and his parents weren’t picking up bc why would cohen’s parents ever.... LMDSFLKFG. maybe cohen bails ur muse out too and secretly helps them even when they should be left to suffer in the SAME way that cohen should be left to suffer. but they’re too close. it’s almost like they coddle each other. maybe it’s due to some romantic subplot or something like a sibling inkling. OOF maybe they’re exes. kill me now u know?
sponsor  -  esque relationship  :  basically someone who can cool cohen down when he’s craving a high, craving alcohol, when he’s getting irritable because he’s not performing well enough, when he’s going workout-crazy and needs someone to be like bitch.... can u sit down for like five seconds? LDMDFLKGKFG someone who doesn’t care when cohen cusses them out for no reason because they’ve got a tough shell and know he’s just getting irritable w them because he’s having a moment. someone patient w him. someone he has probably cried to before because he’s...... tired.
party friend  :  self-explanatory! maybe they’re infamous for ditching parties and heading straight to bars together. LDFMKD absolutely iconic of them. they’ve probably at least made out upwards of ten times because that’s.... cohen. SKDFJ unless ur a straight male, in which case, he politely flirts with u and that’s it. x basically this muse has seen him get into unwarranted bar fights just because he’s a bitch who will ALWAYS throw the first punch, this muse has walked home with him when they’re both way too drunk to drive, this muse probably goes back to cohen’s apartment PLASTERED with him after midnight and stays up to cook a meal and play a game of uno with him, etc, etc. we love nothin’ but warm-hearted fun in this house. 
exes on bad terms  /  hateship  /  enemies that detest each other  :  oof someone cohen has screwed over multiple times? more likely than u think. which is very likely. LKDSMFLKDF maybe they were exes? maybe cohen cheated on your muse? maybe cohen cheated WITH your muse and your muse didn’t find out until the break-up? maybe cohen beat your muse’s brother’s/dad’s ass and now there’s bad blood? maybe cohen broke things off with your muse before things could ever get serious? maybe cohen’s general demeanor just pisses your muse off? we’ve all been there KDNFDLKGN. basically these two hate each other and don’t even TRY to hide it anymore.
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acdeaky · 5 years
Text
a soldier’s return
warning: fluff
note: this is kind of a long one (for my writing anyway), so strap in, grab a beverage (or water, whatever tickles your fancy) and enjoy
word count: 1.9k
35B - ‘do you want to get dinner tonight?’
42B - ‘shut up and kiss me”
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that was it; the war was over. yourself and sidney has arranged for him to pick eugene up from the station, letting them have an hour or so together before allowing eugene return to home live in mobile. sidney would drop eugene off at his home, leave him and his family alone and then eugene would find you.
you had desperately missed him during the war. when sidney left, it was just you and eugene to keep each other company. that was until, a year later, eugene signed up for the marine corps and was set off to training camp, leaving you all alone without the safety of your two best friends. luckily, it was only three years before sidney returned home. you finally had his company again after four years and you both had to patiently wait for eugene’s arrival.
the only information you knew was that eugene’s train got in at 10:48. it would take an hour and a half for sidney to drive to the sledge household meaning you would probably see eugene in the late afternoon, but nothing was set in stone.
throughout the war, your mind had wandered off to eugene fighting bravely in the war zones of the pacific. your heart ached whenever you begun to imagine what he was dealing with, and your heart further ached whenever you received a letter from him. his writing was always messy, but his words were true and filled with love. your best friend was thinking about you even miles away from home. the letters began piling up on your bedside table, that being only nine letters, but nine nonetheless.
when it got to the afternoon, your parents had left hours previously, leaving you to clean and tidy the house before eugene’s arrival. you were glad that they had left, wanting as much time with him without any interruptions. it had been four years since you had seen him face to face.
you were almost done fluffing the last pillows on the sofa when the doorbell rang. it was around 16:30 which made you know that it was eugene. excitedly, you skipped to the front door, stopping before you opened it. a shaky breath escaped your lips as you prepared yourself for seeing your best friend.
feeling prepared, you grabbed the door handle and pushed it downwards, ready to met eugene’s hazel eyes with your own.
“post for miss (y/l/n).” the cheery postman smiled at you, handing you a small bouquet of flowers. you hoped the disappointment on your face wasn’t evident as you thanked the man for the flowers, smiling back at him slightly. he turned to leave, letting you sigh sadly, rolling your eyes at your unnecessary excitement for the mail.
before you could fully shut the door, a hand stopped it, stronger than the force you put into shutting out the world. you turned around, ready to shout at the person who had paused your depressing moment, but a soft pair of hazel eyes stopped you.
“gene?” you whispered, shock completely filling you. not even caring about the beautiful flowers you had been gifted, you pushed yourself forward and into eugene’s arms. one hand holding the bouquet, the other wrapped itself tightly around eugene’s neck. his hands instantly found the bottom of your back, holding you in place against his chest.
he seemed almost taller than when he left. his muscles had definitely improved and his once tiny frame was broad and strong, one of the only advantages of being a marine. the pair of you held each other close; four years had been too long since you shared an embrace.
reluntantly, eugene was the first to pull away. “i’d love to stay and hug you, darlin’, but i can’t have you ruining my flowers.”
“they’re from you?” you smiled as eugene nodded his head in reply. “i love them, thank you.”
“you’re welcome, i couldn’t turn up empty handed after not seeing you for four years.”
“well, technically you did turn up empty handed ‘cause the mailman brought ‘em for me.”
“you know what i mean, smartmouth.” he chuckled, pressing his fingers into your sides.
“do you wanna come in? we’ve got years to catch up on.” a smile made its way onto both of your faces. the thought of sitting and talking to you made eugene’s heart flutter; it’s been the only thing he’s thought of throughout the war. that, and of course his ma.
“i’ve got to get ready for tonight, actually.” eugene’s smile feel, his hand reaching around the back of his neck to scratch it slightly; it was something he did when he was nervous.
“why are you nervous, gene?” your voice was filled with concern as to why he was worried. “what’s happening tonight?”
“well, i’ve hopefully got a date tonight.” ‘hopefully’. that’s what upset you. well, that and the fact that the man you were in love with was potentially going on a date tonight. any girl would be lucky to go out with eugene.
“who with? anyone i know?” you wanted to sound happy for him. you hoped you sounded happy for him.
“i haven’t asked her yet, but i’d say you know her pretty well.”
“you know mary’s taken, gene?” you giggled, making eugene chuckle nervously.
“i know. she wasn’t who i was thinking of.”
“who then?”
“do you wanna get dinner tonight?”
“me?” eugene giggled less nervously at your confusion, the way your face contorted as realisation hit you. “i’m the girl i know pretty well?”
“i guess you do know her, then.”
“i’d love to have dinner with you tonight, gene. give us a chance to catch up.”
“i’ll pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he asked, always the gentleman.
“of course it is,” you smiled widely at eugene, happy that it wasn’t some other girl who occupied his time tonight. “i’ll see you at seven. bye, genie.”
you stepped backwards, over the threshold of your home, all while still looking at eugene. his smile hadn’t faded and neither had yours. the silence that fell over you two as you just basked in the other’s features wasn’t awkward. it was nice. very nice, indeed.
just before you closed the door, eugene’s hand stopped it from closing like he did earlier. “this isn’t a friend date, (y/n).”
a smile couldn’t be stopped as you heard those words. “that’s alright with me, sledge.” he took his hand off of your door, biding you goodbye with a smile and a small wave. after closing your door, you spun around, leaning back against the door and sliding down it. once you hit the floor, you brought the flowers up to your nose to smell them.
daisies. your favourite.
seven soon came around. after you got up off of the floor, you placed the daisies in a vase, cutting the stems down to make them fit perfectly in the glass. then, you waltz into the bathroom, showering and then styling your hair as nicely as possible, applying a bit of makeup, too. next was your outfit. you chose a beautiful, pastel yellow swing dress which was flowered with white daisies; eugene’s favourite.
what felt like a short while, time soon ticked over and seven o’clock arrived. as if on a timer, the door knocked soon after the grandfather clock in your house chimed seven times. the smile on your face couldn’t be contained as you opened the door to reveal a flushed eugene, a single rose in his hand. once he saw you, his face mirrors yours.
he looked dashingly handsome. the suit his mother had bought him before the war (once baggy and draped off of his shoulders) now fit him perfectly, his broad shoulders filling out the jacket. his hair was slicked back, but still natural, a minimal amount of product used to style it. the toothy grin was by far the best thing he wore right then and there.
“i got you this.” he spoke through his smile, handing you the red rose.
“thank you, genie,” pressing the rose to your nose, you inhaled it’s scent. “it’s beautiful.” you carefully placed the rose on the table beside the door before stepping outside to meet eugene.
“not as beautiful as you, darlin’” eugene’s compliment brought a blush to your cheeks as he held out his arm for you to take.
the walk to the restaurant was filled with chatter and quiet laughter. your hand rested through and on eugene’s arm, as his hands were in both of his pockets, keeping away from the cool air. both of you walked in unison, stepping closer and closer to the restaurant without even realising.
“we’re here, love.” eugene spoke, stopping you both in your tracks before you could both pass the chosen place of dining.
“it’s look amazing, gene. thank you,” you turned to look at him and give him a smile of appreciation. “hang on, let me fix your tie.” he moved his neck up slightly, allowing you to get to his tie easier. his tie wasn’t wonky, you just wanted an excuse to be closer to his warmth.
“better?” he smirked.
“much better.” grabbing his hand after replying, you both stepped forward to the entrance, stopping behind a stand where a concierge stood.
“i have a reservation under sledge, sir.” eugene spoke, giving your hand a short squeeze while you waited for your table.
“i’m sorry, sir. there’s no reservation for a mr sledge.” the concierge replied, panic setting into eugene’s face.
“none at all?”
“no, my apologies, sir.” eugene only nodded, gripping your hand slightly tighter and moving away from the stand. once he had pulled you away and out of sight of the restaurant, eugene began apologising profusely for his mistake.
“i’m sorry, i wanted this to be perfect and i couldn’t even make a reservation to treat you to the perfect date you deserve. god, even after four years of war i’m still as nervous as anything. i’m so sorry, darlin’. i shouldn’t have promised you something that i couldn’t deliv-”
“shut up and kiss me.” you interrupted; the only way to stop his prolonged ranting.
“w-what?” he whispered.
“shut up and kiss me, genie.” you smiled, looking at the nervous expression on his face. your hands found their way onto eugene’s cheeks as his nerves started to settle. his hands landed gently on your hips, slowly pulling you two closer together.
you were both hesitant at first, worrying about bumping noses or missing the other’s lips all together. but once your lips found each other, all your worries melted away and your eyes closed in bliss. all the nerves that eugene has built up inside of himself were gone. all that mattered was that you were here with him, alive and well, having your first kiss.
it was soft, gentle. there was no rush or need, just delicate kisses. once you were fully certain that eugene was calm, you gave him one final kiss, releasing your lips from the other. both of your breathing was slightly heavy, nothing majorly above normal; it hadn’t been a heavy kiss after all. you stayed close to him, your foreheads pressed together as your hands went around his neck to play with the small hairs there and his hands stayed on your waist.
“it’s a perfect date because i’m with you. we don’t need to do anything else, let’s just go home, okay?” both of you still had your eyes closed, relishing in the feeling for as long as possible.
“okay,” eugene whispered in reply. “okay, let’s go home.”
-
TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @mrsmazzellotaylor @hardcoredisneynerd
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artzypaw · 5 years
Text
Rip Tide (bnha Surf AU)
Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/ Kirishima Eijirou
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20290699/chapters/48101773 
Word count: 5,029
Additional Tags: 
Bakusquad, Surfing, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Competition, Beaches, Scars, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Road Trips, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Insecure Kirishima Eijirou, ashido could be with anyone, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Blood, Drinking, Emotional Constipation, Barbie References, Gay Kirishima Eijirou, Gay Bakugou Katsuki, Inside jokes, Hotel Rooms, surf competition, i'll add more tags when events become more relevant, denki is a dork, sero has no filter, kirishima is the literal embodiment of the sun, Bakugou wears glasses, but dont tell anyone, ashido paints all their nails, Alternate Universe - Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia)
Summary:
“You i-idiot, you can’t just do a flip off the board. You’ll end up with face scars like Kiri!” Ashio attempts to yell, but it's interrupted by her fits of laughter. Sero’s no better, clutching his stomach as he paddles out to the next wave off balance.
“Hey! I’ll have you know my scars look cool! They’re little lightning bolts!” Denki, ungracefully, crawls onto his surfboard during his remark. He lifts up a leg and points adamantly, showing off his well known box jelly scars.
“How about you guys stop bitching and surf.” Katsuki calls.
'or'
Bakusquad enters a local surf competition and feelings get messy along the way.
Chapts: 1/?
Notes: I'm so excited to be working on this!! I've already drawn photos showing off their surf swimwear and you can find them over on my Tumblr and Insta (but more so on my insta bc i have an exclusive highlighted story to share more deets before chapters come out ;-D)
There are fancy surfing tricks in this story so if you guys want a deeper look into what's to come, click here to read into them. I'm not entirely sure how many chapters this'll end up being, but i'll have more of an idea once i've posted more :-)
(see end of post for tags! if you want me to tag you in the next chapters let me know!)
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Chapter 1: In which Bakugou signs a deal with the devil (or the squad)
The summers are always too hot. Hot and humid, hot and sticky, hot and there’s no escape once you leave the AC. If it weren’t for the constant breezes emanating off of the beach’s shoreline, everyone in the city would be walking fries. The concrete burns beneath any shoe worn and skin bakes once under the scorching heat. On days like this, Katsuki finds going to the water helps but rarely gets to it simply because so did everyone else. 
The tide is more forgiving in the morning and afternoon for him when it comes to surfing. Not only is he able to avoid the crowds of tourists, he can also get a decent swim in before having to go to the Marina for work.
In the mornings, Katsuki normally gets a text message around 6am from Krishima asking if he wants to head over and catch some waves. It’s been this way since high school, at least ever since the redhead found out he’d been surfing just as long as he had. Groggily, he’ll respond with either an incoherent mess of letters or a simple “sure”. He’s not a morning person, but shit-for-brains sure was when it came to surfing.
In the mornings, Katsuki normally gets a text message around 6am from Krishima asking if he wants to head over and catch some waves. It’s been this way since high school, at least ever since the redhead found out he’d been surfing just as long as he had. Groggily, he’ll respond with either an incoherent mess of letters or a simple “sure”. He’s not a morning person, but shit-for-brains sure was when it came to surfing.
From what’s Katsuki’s learned, he is constantly on the water. More so than him, and that’s quite a bit considering he goes out whenever available between work and hanging out with his dumbass friends. Kirishima makes sure to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch some slow waves, then leaves once the crowds start to scuffling around the afternoon. Later at night, just when the sunset begins to ripple across the water and the waves start to die down, not entirely, he’ll grab his surfboard and swim until it grows too dark. The waves then are still tall and stocked with power, crashing down onto the shore with loud gushes of wind. Katsuki finds he enjoys surfing at this time of day more so than in the morning. Not because the sunset looks beautiful against the warm hue of his friends skin, not because the red is just as vibrantly blinding as a certain mop of hair, not because of that time of day, the piercing red eyes that smile back at him are the embodiment of the sunset behind them. No, it’s because he’s available. He’s available to ditch life responsibilities and float across the tinted waters with ease and relax the aching muscles on his body. 
 His phone buzzes after walking out of work, arms growing weary from lifting and maneuvering loads of extraneous equipment. He prods at the tough skin on his bicep, feeling the small indents from the scar left there. The Marina isn’t a crazy job, but it gives him enough money to afford a small apartment and food. And, it was located directly in between his house and the sea. Sore arms aren’t too bad if he really squints at the pros of his situation.
Kirishima: I'm heading out now if you want to meet up- the squad’s w me
Of course everyone else would be there. It wasn’t too often that they were able to come together, as of late. Ever since graduating high school, it’s been a struggle of living against the struggle of hanging out and keeping relationships alive. It’s easier for Katsuki to be with Kirishima and Ashido than it is Sero and Denki simply because the two live and work closer.
Katsuki makes way to his old, run down Jeep that he’s used for the past ten years and drives home to pick up his surfboard. They all surfed, it was a known. Him, Kirishima, and Ashido have been since childhood, Sero and Kaminari starting roughly in their teens, but they like to act as if they hadn’t.
He strips out of his clothes and into black swim trunks, grabbing his keys, wallet and surfboard before locking up his front door and hauling the board into the bed. It’s a normal white on the top, but below was a messy splay of oranges, yellows and blacks; reminiscent of explosions upon the bottom of his board. He personally painted it himself back in high school when there wasn’t enough money to professionally have it coated, but the paint and sealant have held well over the years and he’s grown fond of the design. He doesn’t take shit from Kaminari about how “tacky yet sweet” it is that he still has his cringy old design on the board.
Today is just as hot as yesterday, and the day before that, but the increasing breeze drifting onto his glistening skin walking to the beach has him closing his eyes. The sand is warm to the touch, and as his toes sink into the beads they grow cold from the shade. This feeling is one of the few reasons he keeps living in this tourist trap; that and one other. 
His board is propped beneath his arm as he walks to their usual meeting spot. It’s only five, so the sun has a few hours before setting. Many tourists are still perched on the shore, tanning, splashing in the water, etc. It’s disgusting how many of them show up this time of year; leaving their disgusting ass trash all over his beach, having their disgusting ass families crowd his favorite local restaurants. Sure it was warm all year round, but summer was his favorite season and Katsuki didn’t make exceptions for noisy visitors.
“Hey! It’s Bakubro!” The nickname causes his ears to twitch. He spots the four standing amongst one another, boards perched into the sand around them. Kaminari raises his hand after calling out, and the others turn their gaze toward him. 
Katsuki digs the bottom of his board into the soft sand once he’s joined them, and is immediately tackled into a hug by Ashido, pink enveloping his sight. To this date, he has yet to see the girl give up that hair color.
“Get the fuck off me.” He grunts, no malice in his words as he pats her back with a free hand.
“I haven’t seen you in two weeks, suck it up.” She laughs, squeezing his shoulders before hopping off and giving space. She was wearing the same wetsuit she always did; white with grey accents, holding pink and purple patterns along the sides of her frame. The suit cuts off mid thigh, but the sleeves make their way down her arms and her thin wrists. It’s a wonder how Ashido’s been able to fit into the swimwear the past years. “Tapping out, your turn Sero.” She chides and Katsuki watches as the tall lanky man steps forward and cautiously taps his fist along his bicep.
“I’ll pass on the hug, I kinda wanna survive for championships.” Sero chuckles but is cut short by the panicked looks Kirishima and Ashido give him. He’s quickly slapped in the head by Kaminari. 
“Dude! What the hell we haven’t even told him yet why couldn’t you just keep shut!” He whines, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout. Katsuki frowns, confused. What championships?
“What the fuck are you guys squirming about?” He aks, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Kirishima walks between their friends and wraps an arm over Katsuki’s shoulder in a warm gesture he’s grown fond of over the years. The guy has no personal space, no matter how hard he’s complained.
“So remember last summer when our city threw a surfing competition in order to raise money towards ocean conservation? Many other local beaches in the district came up to compete as well,” Kirishima begins , tilting his head to glance at him through wet hair framing his face. Katsuki mentally rolls his eyes. The dork couldn’t even manage to wait a few minutes to get in the water. He can feel excess drops of roll off Kirishima’s arm and onto his nape. He suppresses the urge to shiver from the contact.
“Yeah, and it was a nightmare. There was practically no room to do anything.” He interjects.
“Well, Kami found a poster advertising this upcoming competition and thought maybe we should sign up!” Kirishima’s smile is bright, and Katsuki rips himself out from under the arm to register what was just told to him.
“Wait- you want to join the competition? As in go against other surfers for a chance to win what may be some lame ass medal and cash?”
Ashido chips in this time, balling her hands into fists enthusiastically, “Yes! And it’s all individual scoring, so no one can get in your way of victory.”
“There are district teams though? As in people will be identified from the beach they’re coming from. We’d be the Yuuei Beach.” Sero adds. 
Katsuki blinks. This sounded right up his alley in terms of the activity and competition. Of course he wants to pummel any low ranking surfer out of the water, but-
“What’s the entry fee?” His bank account couldn’t handle another divot. Just this past month alone, his AC has died twice and that pulled entirely too much money out of for his comfort. He has saved money, sure, but it’s for emergencies, not being baked alive.
Ashido works at a retail store, not gaining that much more than him, along with Sero. Kirishima is currently at a surf shop, selling and making boards for probably less than it’s worth. Kaminari’s in and out of jobs practically every month, and while he says he had quit or it wasn’t for him, the guy was only half telling the truth. Katsuki has to keep his friends in check because their dumbasses sometimes forget they’re not made of money.
Kaminari flicks his nose with a thumb, “It’s not too bad, considering it is doubling as a charity event.” Katsuki huffs. So it was expensive.
“About 100 bucks each.” Kirishima says, looking over at him with bright eyes; hopeful and eager to see his reaction. Because yeah, it was a decent price. Cheaper than he was expecting.
He furrows his brows and kicks the sand beneath him in thought. It was maybe too cheap. “That’s how much is it for each of us individually to get in? I feel like there’s supposed to be a twist. Are there equipment fees?”
Ashido laughs, “I was the same, but that’s all we have to pay. It would be more if we didn’t already own surfboards, and swim gear-“
Sero nods when Katsuki flicks his gaze to him. His own wetsuit accentuates his long arms and legs and thinly toned body. He was the skinniest of the group, but to Katsuki’s surprise, that didn’t stop him from being a crazy strong surfer. Sero continues, “Yeah. So what do you say? Wanna try it out?”
He did. More so than he’d openly admit. Katsuki holds back his smile in order to keep composure; the last thing he wants is to jump into something stupid. He’ll have to call work and schedule time off. He’ll have to pack his clothes and his board and go on road trips with his friends and it was both exciting and nerve wracking.
Katsuki sighs, dropping an arm and raising the other to his temple, “If you guys make me regret this I’m shipping your asses to China.”
Their eyes widen and simultaneously loud cheers erupt from their cries. Kirishima runs up and hugs him, wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting his feet off the sand. His cheeks burn from the action and from the full laughs vibrating through Kirishima’s chest. If he could get him to laugh like this everyday he would.
“Hell yeah!” The red head drops Katsuki and fist bumps Kaminari who just got out of a group hug with the other two. All of them are buzzing and Katsuki can’t help but let a smirk form upon his lips.
The sun is growing heavy on the horizon, which means they should probably hop in the water if they want any good waves. He reaches over and pulls his surfboard out of the sand.
“Let’s go you losers.” He barks, smirk never leaving his lips as he marches over to the water. Behind him Kaminari laughs. Foot steps quicken behind him with soft thuds.
“Last one there has to pay for dinner!” He cries, voice shifting into a shriek after sprinting past Katsuki and his grin widens with competition. The fuck does he think he is getting a head start?
Confused and disturbed glances behind them, the four boys push and shove awkwardly with their surfboards in hand to the water, making sure not to trip on one another. Sero lost.
The swells are more tame due to the tidal shift, keeping his distance from the break of waves, Katsuki’s able to lay back on his board and let the water run past his outstretched arms and legs. Kirishima gets the same idea once they’ve drifted further out into the open water and Katsuki can see a small smile still resting on his face.
The others are catching waves up ahead, and from the sounds of it they were running off the high of excitement; Ashido squeals after, Sero he assumes, pulls a bottom turn.
“Thanks for agreeing, Katsuki.” He hears Kirishima say. He hums in response, watching as the sky changes from hues of blue to pinks and oranges. He focuses on that rather than the man beside him, because he knows exactly what will happen if he does; his heart and mind will betray him, and he’ll have to question whether or not going to the competition will be worth his numerous strokes. “How far do you think we’ll get?” the redhead says again, the volume of his question softer, as if he were asking himself.
“We’re going to fucking dominate those amatures, Ei.” Katsuki chuckles airily. If anyone is as good a surfer as him, it was that dork.
“Yeah, we are.” and fuck, he has a weak heart because he tilts his head over to look at Kirishima. He’s giving him the widest smile and Katsuki sucks in air. How can it be legal to smile that way? At him? It does too many things to his emotions that he doesn’t allow. The swells beneath gradually lift them, and they fall down just as gently, as if the water itself were taking a deep breath.
A scream breaks his train of thought and he sits up to see where the noise came from. Ahead, Kaminair is popping his head out of the water with a lopsided grin.
“You i-idiot, you can’t just do a flip off the board. You’ll end up with face scars like Kiri!” Ashio attempts to yell, but it's interrupted by her fits of laughter. Sero’s no better, clutching his stomach as he paddles out to the next wave off balance.
“Hey! I’ll have you know my scars look cool! They’re little lightning bolts!” Denki, ungracefully, crawls onto his surfboard during his remark. He lifts up a leg and points adamantly, showing off his well known box jelly scars.
“How about you guys stop bitching and surf.” Katsuki calls. Kirishima laughs at that, and doesn’t stop until the other three have swam up to swap positions. Kaminari looks at him pointedly.
“Let me see you do a flip off a board then, Bakumaster.” 
“Don’t call me that,” He starts, lowering his arms to push forward and catch the next swell, “the day one of us does a flip off a board, it’ll be your shit eating grin that’ll pay because I'll personally handle that myself.”
“Honestly, Kami,” Kirishima says behind him, he too, preparing his board, “how cool would that be? It’s like parkour, but on water.”
“Exactly!” his friends cackle, and Katsuki smirks to himself. They’re all idiots.
   “Wow, there are a lot more people here from our beach than I thought there’d be.” Kirishima says beside him. The two of them are waiting for the rest of their group at the opening resort for the surf competition. It’s been a month since they all consecutively decided to join, and throughout those weeks have been vigorously practicing the required techniques in order to pass the ranks. Standing there today is surreal to Katsuki; his heart beating a thousand miles a minute as the adrenaline of competition surges through his body. Before them, dozens of tents are littered across the sand advertising foods, surf leagues, selling wetsuits and swimsuits, anything that may grab money from eager buyers. In the middle of the mess is a small makeshift stage that holds a live band. Katsuki can hear their loud pop summer music from where he’s standing and wonders how distracting it may be once he’s out in the water. Sprawling in the crowds of surfers and pedestrians are news reporters catching scoops of information before the oncoming competition begins. 
“More than last year.” He says. It’s the peak of the day, the early noon sun is hot and persistent on his skin. He disregarded his tank top hours ago because it rendered useless being soaked in his sweat. Beside him, Kirishima fairs no better, not even coming with a shirt and just in his red striped swim shorts. His hair is loose today, and Katsuki can’t help but want to drag his fingers through it and out of his face.
While the two showed up early, all tents provided for competitors are slammed full, causing them to have to stand out in the bated sun. Their surfboards stand beside them, growing increasingly warm after each passing minute. 
“I really thought they’d be here by now.” Kirishima says anxiously. His body is stiff, and Katsuki gets the idea he’s nervous for more reasons than one. Elbowing his arm, he speaks up over the blaring music and conversations.
“Relax, Ei, if they’re late we’ll just start without them.” It’s not much of a reassurance, but the redhead's already taking in a deep breath. 
“Sorry we’re late! Kaminari slept in and Sero forgot where his wetsuit was and I had to get gas-!” Ashido cries as her and the other two dorks run up to them. 
“Really, Kami? You slept in?” Kirishima laughs, shaking his head. Katsuki fumes. The idiot had the audacity to sleep in and risk being late to their first opening competitions as well as stress out Kirishima more than he needed to. 
“Don’t fucking do it again, Pikachu.” He barks. 
 There were 28 surfers entering the water today. Only 8 from Yuuei beach are going to able to advance in the official competitions. The news wasn’t surprising to Katsuki. He spent the past couple of nights reading into the scoring and background of these kind of events. Their next match, only 4 from each beach will be able to advance. All they had to do was meet a certain amount of points during their surf. Pass the heats, move to the next round.
Ashido is first to head into the water out of their group. She’s nervous and threatening to throw up but Kaminari shakes her shoulders and tells her that “you’re going to wipe the smug look off of everyone’s faces when they see you surf. Don’t overthink it, you’re practically a fish!” It musters a giggle out of her, and she hops up with determination.
“Yeah I am!” She grabs her surfboard, the bottom displaying various shades of pink along with tacky patterns only she would care to enjoy, and runs out to the water waving a thumbs up behind her.
Katsuki would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous. The past couple of surfers have been good. Their scores ranging from 15 to 17.2 points out of 20. Ashido is accompanied with three other surfers for their heat, and he hopes she catches some good waves in order to boost her general score. Her first wave is smaller than he would’ve hoped, but she’s quick and able to pull in a few carves and cutbacks before doing a roundhouse cutback; her figure eight sharp and stunning. Watching, The allotted thirty minutes given goes by fast, and Katsuki sighs with relief when Ashido sprints out of the water with a solid 18.3. 
“Did you see that??!” She squeals, ramming into their group dripping with ocean water. She ditches her surfboard to the sand before jumping into their open arms. Her cheeks are red from the sun and splays of water, and Katsuki finds he likes this new profound form of excitement. It makes his chest flutter with something unknown. She backs away, though her hand never leaves the small of Sero’s back. “Don’t say a word, I don’t want to jinx anything. I’m looking at you, Hanta.” 
He flushes at the accusation, “I’m not that bad.”
“Sorry man, but you have the worst tendency of blurting what’s on your mind.” Kirishima says, rubbing the back of his nape modestly. They all nod in agreement and he flushed more.
“Okay then. I’ll keep shut.” 
The speakers erupt across the beach announcing the next four names to enter the water. Kirishima and Kaminari are in the same heat this round, which leaves Katsuki to watch from the sand once again. He finds himself biting his nails unconsciously until Ashido slaps his hand with her own, a frown upon her lips.
“Don’t ruin your nails, I don't want to paint a ravaged canvas.” she whines, and he huffs, but eventually caves in and drops his hand. Her gaze softens and she elbows his bicep. He flicks his gaze down irritably. “They’re going to be okay. Kaminari is full of surprises, and you know Kirishima,” she emphasizes the last bit, “he’s amazing. You’re stressing over nothing.”
“I’m not stressing.” Katsuki grumbles. But she was right, he didn’t necessarily have anything to worry about; the two were amazing surfers. He’ll ignore the knowing look Ashido held in her gaze when talking about Kirishima just then because that’s for another time. Ahead, he can spot the mop of red hair contrast with the blues and whites as the figure positions himself for a larger wave swell. Luckily, Kirishima held a top priority and once he claims a wave the other surfers will have to venture off to other ones. 
“That’s a good wave, Kiri should be able to pull some of his trickier stunts on it.” Sero quips, crossing his arms over his chest. Katsuki nods, eyes never wavering from in front of him. The redhead is standing in no seconds after giving himself a boost forward with a thrust of his arms. The water curves, and eventually a beautiful wave begins to crash upon the water just for him. Immediately, Kirishima is wasting no time and pulling his first trick: Nosesirfing. Holding his stance at the tip of his board, he surfs along the crest of the wave for a couple seconds, gaining him a substantial amount of initial points. He slides down the water swiftly and carves, reverses and performs a 360; water splashing around his figure. Ashido cheers beside Katsuki and he smirks, because it was performed fairly perfectly. The wave is coming to a close, and Kirishima lowers his speed to Tube Ride inside the arch of water. It takes skill, not being an intermedial trick, and Katsuki holds his breath waiting to see the splash of red along the water emerge out into the open. After a few seconds, to his and the two dorks beside him’s excitement, Kirishima is able to perform the stunt and glides out past the crashing water, smiling widely. His first wave gives him a 9.8 out of 10 on the scoring board. If he does that again, Katsuki’s sure he’ll pass and move onto the next rounds. 
The other surfers in the heat take their turns catching their points, Kaminari scoring an 8.2 on his first wave and the other two strangers score relatively lower. Their time on the water is winding down, and as Kirishima finishes is second wave with yet another Tube Ride, followed hastily with an Aerial, his points reveal him with a victorious 10 accumulating his complete and final 18.2. His fists are in the air, expression bright as he splashes the water exasperatingly.
“Yes! Way to go Kirshima!” Katsuki can hear Denki shout across the water as he begins his own second wave. Even on his own turn, the blonde finds time to support his friend. He turns his gaze back to Kirishima and smirks when he emerges out of the water, still wearing his widening smile.
Ashido runs forward and hugs him, causing them to wobble from the lack of balance. Thankfully, she lets go just in time for Kirishima to compose himself. His cheeks and body are flush from the adrenaline, and he rubs the back of his nape.
“Thanks! But we gotta watch Kami! He’s on now!” He calls, turning around to watch their friend finish his heat with a 17.9. Not too long after, the electric blonde is running up and joining them in a group hug. 
“You guys were fucking amazing.” Katuski chuckles, clapping his hands together with Kirishima’s after they’ve divided. His face is warm from the sun, from the heat, from the surge of excitement and from the soft, damp hands holding his own tightly. Kirishima’s smile hasn’t wavered since he’s left the water, and Katsuki wonders if his cheeks are sore.
“Thanks man!” he laughs, and from the looks of it, the redhead’s still running off of his incitement.
“I think they just called Sero’s name.” Kaminari says to the side, and they turn their gaze to the large screen towards the center of the beach that holds the scorings and names of surf heats. Sure enough, Hanta Sero appears in bold letters across the screen. 
He gives them a thumbs up as he walks off holding his surfboard by his side. Katsuki knows from watching him practice that he’s been working on the Superman since his longer body physique allows him to maneuver the trick easier, but will he attempt it today and risk losing points? It requires a relatively larger waves to guide the speed and height up and off of the crest. To his surprise, Sero doesn’t end up performing the trick, instead focusing on more longboard derived skills that place him with a score of 17.6. 
That leaves him to enter the water. His name isn’t on the screen yet, but he can feel the sizzling beneath his skin in anticipation. The next heat will begin soon, and the chance his name will show up etched itself into his gut in the form of hunger. Hunger to win, hunger to go out there and compete, hunger to excel above the rest.
“Your name was just called for the next heat, Bakugou.” Ashido says and he smirks wickedly. Finally.
“Oh no, he’s got that creepy look on his face when he gets over competitive. He’s gone from Bakubro to Bakuscary.” Kaminari steps behind his board to shield himself as Katsuki grabs his own firmly. Reassuring chants echo behind him as he surges forward. 
The water is warm when he initially steps in; he paddles further out into the ocean and it shifts cooler to the touch. His ears twitch with the realization that the music from the beach isn’t as deafening from where he sits. He can hear his thoughts more clearly, which normally fairs well but he spots Kirishima back at their spot on be beach jumping, pumping his fists into the air out to him, and his chest flutters. He was too enthusiastic sometimes.
The waves today are good. Better for the completion but even better for him in executing more high level skills. A particular swell catches his eye and he’s immediately taking action, dipping his arms in the water to push himself out to snatch the break. As the form manifests, he Carves and glides up, clutching the surfboard with one as he leans back and does a Alley-Oop. He lands with a slap, and his legs buzz from the impact. Any noise he heard earlier is gone. Mind blank, his breathing is shallow and he hyper focuses on his next trick, doing a Cutback then Snapping against the current. He only has a couple of seconds before the wave dies out, so he bites his lip and thinks screw it; there’s an opportunity and he isn’t going to miss his chance. Engulfed under a bridge of water, he Tube Rides before dashing out and Kickflipping his board. His chest heaves as he exhales sharply, riding out the remaining push of wave. It happened all too quickly and he doesn’t spare a glance at the scoreboard to see what his first wave gave him. He knows it was a higher number.
The second wave, to his luck, is just as powerful. Katsuki spares no time performing the same tricks, give or take a few and his mind is still in a haze once he steps onto the hot sand. 
The wind is knocked out of his lungs, his board flying forward and he plummets back down into the sand with a loud thud. He groans as his chest is squeezed unbelievably tight, and his hands urgently grasp onto warm skin. Opening his eyes, his face heats immensely as he stares up into Kirishima’s. His breathing is rugged, unlike Katsuki’s being held in his chest, and he’s smiling down at him. Bold at first, but it fades into one more fond. Eyes never leave one another’s until it’s cut short, as fast as it came, with three bodies throwing themselves atop of theirs and Katsuki groans once again.
“Jesus- the fuck- I can’t breathe you assholes! G-get off-“ He wheezes, retracting his arms and planting them over Kirishima’s bare chest in an attempt to lift everyone. It fails and he’s left buried under 300 pounds with burning cheeks.
“We did it you guys! We’re going into the next rounds!” Ashido squeals into his ear and he pauses. They made it.
He gapes, “Holy fuck.”
“You topped with a solid 19 points, Bakubro!” Kaminari laughs, making an effort to detach himself from the pile. Ashido slides out beneath him. “We’re going to Shigaraki Beach!” 
Sero extends a hand to help Kirishima off his feet, who then looks back down to a stunned Katsuki laying in the sand. He opens and closes his mouth, failing to conjure any words because holy fuck they’re all advancing to the next set of rounds-
He takes Kirishima’s hand and smirks, turning to face his fervent friends. The sun is still hot beating down on his skin, on the sand beneath his toes, on the hand intertwining into his own, on the smiles and crinked noses displaying between them. But it didn’t matter.
They made it.
-----------------------------------
Tags! 
@mina-ashido-ismywife @hubajoob @christa-mina @kitkat-the-muffin @complete-utter-trash23 @justshipmeoffplease @sedxkid1 @downtherabbitholethatisanime @cooliopumpkin @fuchsiari
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anonymous-idfk · 5 years
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“Dislocated Joint”
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Now, there were certain things about deviancy that Connor hated. Things he could do without, and this situation was not excluded. With deviancy came hesitation, and that small hesitation was all the man needed to grab onto him and twist.
-----
They had done it. They had finally done it. This case had been going on for weeks, surpassing even Connor’s intellect and knowledge of what could have happened. But then the killer slipped up. The perpetrator got cocky, got messy and left a vital piece of the puzzle behind. From there it was all too easy.
After the breakthrough, Hank and Connor immediately left to go apprehend the criminal, the man staying in a hotel not far from the last crime scene, which was a mistake.
Unfortunately for them, the man wasn’t in a talking mood, and made a break for it as soon as he caught sight of the two detectives. That was how Connor found himself in pursuit of the murderer, a man who didn’t want to accept the new laws, who didn’t think it was fair that a bunch of machines got equal rights, and brought his anger and frustration out on innocent androids, and those who sympathised with them.
“Stop!” Connor commanded, chasing him up two flights of stairs. “Detroit Police!”
The man, who was surprisingly quick for a human, ignored him and continued to run, knocking over cleaning trollies that had been left on the side and flower pots from window sills as he went, Connor gracefully and efficiently avoiding them.
The man had been staying on the fifty-second floor, and the chase took them higher. He eventually changed course, sprinting down a hallway to the end, before looking about frantically.
Connor slowed down, almost to a stop to begin the arrest before the man backed up to a door, a hand behind his back to fumble with the handle. Getting a grip on it, the door fell open, and he stumbled backwards onto the roof, Connor cursing as he followed.
“Stop.” Connor repeated, raising his gun and holding his position as the man backed up to the edge before stopping, realising he was trapped. “There’s nowhere for you to go now, make it easier on yourself and give up.”
Slowly, the man raised his hands in surrender, and followed Connor’s orders to turn around and put his hands on his head.
“Jesus Christ!” Came a loud huff, Hank barrelling his way through the door. The older detective seemed out of breath, and Connor made a mental note to check on him after this was all over.
“Don’t you move you bastard.” Hank cursed, trying to catch his breath as Connor put away his gun.
The android made his way over to handcuff the man, reading him his rights when he saw a slight twitch.
Now, there were certain things about deviancy that Connor hated. Things he could do without, and this situation was not excluded. With deviancy came hesitation, and that small hesitation was all the man needed to grab onto him and twist.
The world tilted for a second before the floor was no longer beneath him, the cool night air hitting him from every angle, and the sheer feeling of wrong flowed within him as he toppled over the edge of the roof.
“Shit Connor!” Hank yelled, shoving the man aside as he reached down to grab the falling deviant’s arm. He missed and grabbed onto his wrist, his hold strong and unwavering.
An agonised cry escaped the android as his weight came down full force. He felt the way his shoulder moved and stretched, far beyond its normal limits as a searing pain shot through his arm.
Hank let out a wince as the sound of scraping metal resonated through the air, but steeled his resolve as he refused to let go.
Trying his best to drown out the cries of pain from the boy he saw as a son, he pulled the android up, an arm wrapping around his waist as soon as he could reach to drag him back onto the roof.
The kid was breathing heavily, trying to ease the pain and cool his systems as the fear and pain from the injury made his core temperature rise.
“…H-Hank…Hank…” Connor barely got out, pain still being fairly new to him and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe, you’re gonna be fine, you hear me?” He soothed, wrapping the shaken android in a hug, carefully avoiding his shoulder as he let out a sob.
“I-It hurts…”
“I know it does, son, I know.”
Hank tried not to grimace when he took in the damage. The poor kid’s shoulder was marginally lower than the other, a prominent bulge at the side where his plastimetal frame had given way. And the way the ‘bone’ seemed to press tightly against his synthetic skin...it looked painful.
“Come on, let’s get you to a technician.” With that, Hank stood up, helping Connor to stand before pausing and reaching for the deviant’s neck.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Tie. I’m going to make a sling out of it. I’ve popped a few shoulders back in place during my time on the force, but I’ve never done it to an android and don’t wanna make it worse. Hopefully it’ll hold your arm in place till we get some help.” Hank explained, doing exactly that. “There, see? So your damn tie did come in useful for once.”
That got a small smile from the boy.
Hank grabbed onto his radio, calling in the escaped criminal, along with the incident which had just occurred. The two made their way slowly down from the roof, catching the elevator to the ground floor before walking over to the car.
They both got in, Connor using his good arm to open the door and fasten his seatbelt, before Hank turned the engine on and pulled out from the curb.
“You holding up okay?”
“I’m…I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“As long as I don’t move around too much, the pain is tolerable. I can’t wait for it to heal though.”
“I know, kid. Hurts like a bitch, but you’ll be okay.”
A couple of minutes later, the Android Specialist and Technical Assistance Facility, or ASTA came into view.
“We’re here.” Hank informed, pulling into the facility’s parking lot.
“Hank?”
“Yeah kid?”
“Thank you.”
“No problem, son.”
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fairycosmos · 5 years
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chloe i agree 1005 w your post about makeup. its so fucking stupid and we all know why we feel the need to wear it (hardly ever fun purposes) but i wear it everyday when i go to public places and i feel so guilty but i just honestly get treated with kindness from boys now and they used to bully me so im so conflicted what i should do bc makeup has become a shield to protect myself :( anyways i wanted to ask u how do u deal with this? do you wear makeup? love you
to be honest i still haven't found an all encompassing answer but!! i think if you look at the relationship you have with your body as a mentality that has been ingrained into you from a young age, and not as something you need to feel guilty for, then it's easier to come to terms with your insecurities. the world counts on your self hatred just as it counts on mine. it's not your fault that girls are only seen as human if we meet a certain standard and it's not your fault that sexism exists. i don't blame you at all for wanting to live a peaceful and happy life, for wanting validation. when you're a woman, how you look seems to determine whether or not you experience those things. :/ but ultimately the blame is not on those who wear makeup, it is on those (companies, influencers, cooperations) who dehumanise us - even indirectly, even just through implications - simply for existing in our natural state. yeah i wear it, even knowing it's a whole scam. because the years i spent being taught to literally despise myself have not disappeared just because now im old enough to comprehend the logistics behind it. the shame runs deep, intercepts with other factors such as lack of money n mental illness. they set it up that way. it is malicious, we should be upset. being aware of it is a good place to start but it doesn't solve everything.
that being said here are a few things that helped me a bit:
a. try to remain bare faced at least two days out of the week. familiarise yourself with your natural appearance n acknowledge that it is nothing to be ashamed of, nor does it define you.
b) periodically remind yourself of the extent of consumerist and makeup culture. you're just another customer in the eyes of those who make u feel bad. it has nothing to do with how you look and everything to do with making money. recognize that. understand how truly ridiculous it is to be expected to buy this shit/meet these ideals. it's very freeing. they want it to seem like contentment is impossible, so you keep buying. that's their business model.
c. control your online space. try not to follow people who are simply walking advertisments. there are thousands of artists and cool creators to focus on instead. if you're constantly being fed these falsified images of performative life styles, your existence will never feel up to par because it is real and unedited.
d. work on self neutralisation if self love is too hard. your mouth is unconcerned with beauty, it's there so you can eat and breathe. your legs don't care about being slim, they're getting you from one place to the next. your body is working hard to keep you healthy, to carry you through the world. it deserves some appreciation for that. it's not just your friend, it's you as much as your soul is you. try to go easy on yourself even if it feels like a lie.
e. self reflect. if you catch yourself thinking less of someone bc of how they look, examine where that urge comes from n try to deconstruct it.
anyway this got too long and it's very messy but im so. tired of being marketed to, shamed, consumed, sexualised, scorned etc and i believe......if we just take back control in any way we can, even through the smallest of efforts, then we will notice a difference. apparently just leaving the front door with a fresh face is a radical act. and even if at the start you can only manage to do that a few times a month, at least you're trying. we'll spend our whole lives purging ourselves of toxic messages bro. it's ok for it to take time. the dualism of 'i want to be hot' vs 'i want to feel comfortable being myself' is something a lot of people struggle with, but the latter will win if you want it to. because there is no choice but to accept yourself when you realize this is a cultural game we're supposed to die trying to win. boys and the world will have to suck it up. literally WHAT is the alternative
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imaginesmai · 5 years
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Ubbe-Lagertha’s Daughter (6)
Ubbe-Lagertha Daugther (6)
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I just can’t belive this has alredy 6 parts guys, thank you for your love!! I hope you like this one, it’s not the end but it’s near!
Plot: it’s time to close wounds, physical and mental; Ubbe’s and yours.
Warnings: mentions of rape, mentions of torture (explained), light angst (is that me writting something not angsty? Incredible)
The healer said that talking about what happened would make it easier, but each time you tried to remember it you ended up unconscious. Lagertha couldn’t stay with you more than a few hours because she started crying while seeing your wounded body. Bjorn had a family to attend and, even if he found time to be with you, there still was a revenge against his father’s killers to plan. Hvitserk and Sigurd didn’t know how to make you talk about that, and more than often they ended up frustrated with you. That left Ubbe.
Your first encounter was totally unplanned. Since Sigurd found you, the prince decided to stay in the queen’s house, and your mother gladly gave him a room next to your (or hers, as you were staying in the queen’s room). Ubbe didn’t sleep at nights, because when he did, he was met with the memories of the day he tried to kill you; and in his dreams, he succeeded. He woke up in sweat and crying, and then he couldn’t make himself to go back to sleep. So, it was one of those nights when he woke up from a nightmare when he heard you. Ubbe was walking down the hall, trying to cool off when he heard you screaming. At first, he thought Ivar had come back and was taking you away. He ran to your room, breaking the door in the process, just to find you turning and tossing in the bed. Realising it was just a nightmare, he sat in the bed touching just your hand.
-          Y/N. -he said. -Y/N you have to wake up.
-          No! -was all that you kept saying.
-          Please, everything is okay. You are going to hurt yourself. -Ubbe gripped your shoulders, trying to avoid the injury at your chest. -My love, please.
You opened your eyes slowly, trying to calm your breath like the healer taught you. Without realising who was with you and just guiding yourself for the security that he or she transmitted to you, you put your hand on the stranger’s chest. His heartbeat was quick and his chest was broad, and after a while you could breath again. But seeing who was in your bed made you move away.
-          I’m leaving! -Ubbe sat up. -I’m leaving, you see? Just, please, don’t move. You’re going to hurt yourself more.
-          What are you doing here? -your voice was nothing more than a whisper.
-          Lagertha-I mean, your mother…I’m staying here. In the room next to yours. -you didn’t say anything. -But I can leave! Hvitserk has-
-          Why would you leave?
-          Don’t want to make you uncomfortable. -Ubbe said, looking down.
-          I don’t want you to stay. -you could see the watery eyes of the prince, ready to be rejected once more. -But I don’t want you to go.
-          Just tell me what to do. -he sat in your bed slowly, careful that you didn’t move away. -Anything, Y/N.
-          I can’t sleep anymore, I can’t eat, I can’t get up. It seems that I can’t live now. -you said. Maybe it was the feeling of security that Ubbe offered you, but it was the first time that you talked to anyone about it.
-          We will make a deal. I know you are not ready to…be with me. I will stay here, you see that chair? -he pointed to the one near the window; you nodded. -I will sit there, so I am with you. But you don’t have to talk to me. Deal?
That’s how started your recovery. Each night, Ubbe sat down by the window, watching you sleep and sometimes even closing his eyes for a little. When you had a nightmare, he just took your hand until it was gone; and if it was too bad, he woke you up and talked to you about any funny memory you two had together. Never he asked about what happened that night, and when the sun rose, he left the room after kissing your forehead. Months passed by and your routine was the same. Sometimes he was in your room during the day, when he wasn’t hunting or training with his brothers and, without saying it, you both forgave each other. One day, when he came back with Sigurd, he saw the healer in your room.
-          It’s been a while since I saw you here. -Ubbe said, looking at your face for the approval of himself being there. Once you nodded, the prince entered into the room. -Anything new?
-          He says its time I try to walk. -you had your pelvic bone broken, so you had been in bed until then.
-          We better not have any hope, princess Y/N. -the healer said. -Your hips are healing yet.
-          I’m sure you will be kicking my ass in no time. -Ubbe said, sitting in the bed next to you. He was surprised when he felt your hand taking his.
-          You may want to tell prince Ubbe the other news yourself, my princess. So, I will be on my way. If you excuse me. -he made a little bow and left.
-          Well? What do you have to tell me?
-          Even if no one have talked about it Ubbe, we all knew that there was a possibility of me being, you know, pregnant. I mean, after…-Ubbe squeezed your hand, telling your that it wasn’t necessary to say it; he was curious but he could wait. -I hadn’t had my monthly bleeding the last two moons.
-          So, you are with child? -Ubbe interrupted you. -I promise you Y/N I will help you with it, I swear that if you have me, I will be like a father to him or her, and I won’t judge-
-          Can you let me finish? -you smiled, squeezing his hand back. -The healer said that it could be because of my body, that I have just failed to produce the…why am I even explaining it? -you laughed, and hearts could be seen falling out of Ubbe’s eyes. -What I am trying to say, is that even if I haven’t bled, if I was pregnant, I should have a baby bump now. And I don’t have it.
-          I know I am missing something but I can’t seem to get it. Can’t you just tell me, by Odin? Are you or not?
-          No idiot. I’m not pregnant!
Ubbe emitted a strange sound and hugged you. It was the closest that you had been since you two broke up, and when he realized that he attempted to move away. Yet you pulled him closer, enjoying having the prince close to you again.
-          I want to try and get up. -you said after a while. -I can’t do it on my own.
-          Are you asking me something? Because I didn’t catch it. -Ubbe smirked.
-          Maybe you could help me getting up. -you smiled. It was nice joking with him again.
-          Yeah, someone should. Totally. -he got up, looking at you with fun in his eyes.
-          Where could I find someone, hm? It should probably be a man. And he should be tall.
-          And handsome.
-          And broad, in case I fall.
-          Funny too.
-          I wonder where there could be a man like him.
-          You are looking at him.
-          Am I? Then move, you must be on the way!
He faked indignation and moved to the door, but you pleaded him between laughs to stay. Ubbe smiled and helped you on your feet.
For a while, it was the same all days. You got up and there was a thrall there ready to give you a bath. After eating something, the healer came to your room to spread something in your wounds. Then, Bjorn or your mother would spend the morning with you; if you were feeling well, then you would walk a little, and if not, you would just talk. Ubbe would come to your room after training and helped you to walk a little. Nights were your favourite part of the day. Since Ubbe and you hugged, you two were close again, and you admitted his presence in bed. He kept the nightmares away, and you were the only way where he could get any sleep at all.
You had been bored out of your mind all day. Astrid and your mother were trying to teach you to sew, but you were horrible at it. As a child, you used to avoid your responsibilities and instead leaving to Kattegat to play with the princes. And as a result, you couldn’t even make a good pattern. When they left, you laid in the bed, looking at the ceiling, until Ubbe came kicking the door open.
-          Can you like, not be a bear for a while? Like, pretend to be a normal human. -you said smiling.
-          Where is the fun in that? If I was Hvitserk, I would have woken you up with water, you should be grateful!
-          I was not asleep!
-          Better then. Come on, get your lazy ass over here.
Ubbe helped you up with care and left you to balance yourself. The first day you hadn’t even got out of your room when he had to take you back with tears in your eyes. The soreness after your multiple abuses had been a big problem, and your legs were weak and thin. But that day you felt confident, and with his help you could make it to the front hall. Ubbe was like a proud dad; everyone you saw, he would tell him something about how far you arrived or how well you were doing it. He dared you to go down the stairs and, even if you did it, he had to carry you back to your room; not that he was complaining about it. He put you in your bed and, after getting out of his boots and furs, he laid with you. It had become a habit to sleep together. You both knew that you weren’t a couple anymore, yet everyone around you saw that you were going to go back together sooner or later. You were laying in his chest peacefully when you decided it was time.
-          When everything happened, I thought about you. -you said out of the blue.
-          Hm? -Ubbe was half asleep, with his eyes closed and his hand around your waist.
-          I realised that, if the Gods were taking me to Valhalla that day, I didn’t say goodbye to you. -Ubbe was now looking at you. -I though about your eyes, about how they are disgustingly blue and beautiful. And about the way your hair seems always messy but is still neat. -you said, moving your hand to his hair. -Or about your smile, that hides between that perfect beard and is the most beautiful in the world.
-          Y/N. -he whispered. He didn’t want you to stop, he just wanted you to know that he was listening; and maybe that was what you needed to let everything out, someone who didn’t ask, just listened.
-          The first man was the worst. He didn’t care about how many times I asked him to stop, or how…dry I was. -Ubbe flinched with your words. -Ivar just stood there, looking at me like if I was his next dinner, not a human. When he cut me…some men clawed at the wounds. They raped me, and even some of them…
-          I’m here. -was all he said, while you were silent.
-          I remember some of them raping me twice. -Ubbe was doing a good job keeping his tears away, juts hugging you tighter. -One of them was just too heavy, and I felt my hip snapping Ubbe. I just wanted to die.
-          Look at me, Y/N. -you cried and moved your head. -I can’t take your pain away, I wish I could. I would give anything to make things different. But I can share it, my love. Let it out, I’ll hold you.
-          I thought about how I wasn’t going to see you trying to cook or playing with Bjorn’s children pretending you don’t want one. -you put your head on his chest, incapable of keeping your eyes on his. -And I was so scared, not because I was going to die, but because the last thing you would remember me for would be for killing your mother.
-          I would remember the little dimples that form in your cheeks when you laugh, and the way you close your eyes when you do it. -he moved so that you were facing each other, and put his hands at your cheeks, cleaning your tears. -I would remember you by the happiness you bring into my life when you look at me, with those beautiful and big eyes of yours. I would remember you by your voice, filled with emotions and love, or by your endless kindness for everyone. And I would remember you by who you are, Y/N, the woman I loved, I love and I will always love.
Ubbe looked at you in the eye for what seemed forever, taking in every detail; from your wet lashes to your parted lips. He wanted to kiss you, of course he wanted, and since the day you came back. Yet the weight of the letters craved in your chest kept him from doing that; he felt responsible for it, guilty for the pain that his younger brother inflicted in you, awful for the feelings that Ivar planted in his chest and that he blinded followed. However, you didn’t care, and slowly, you sealed your lips with him. It was a short kiss, where none of you moved; you just enjoyed the feeling of having each other again. When you pulled away, he didn’t need any answer or explication; you weren’t ready, but now he was sure that he was more than willing to wait for you. After all, that was his duty; to be there with you.
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