Tumgik
#your 20s are shit enough without so much negativity during the times you are supposed to be relaxed and surrounded by loved ones
malleleothreesome · 4 months
Note
YOUR MALLEUS POST IS JUST!!!!! AGDKFFLSVFL!!!! WHO KNOWS HOW MANY TIMES I RE-READ THAT THING BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!!! 😫😭👌🖤💚
I'm so late to this but thank you so much Knight!! 🖤💚🖤💚 I'm so happy you enjoyed Blindfolded Malleus... I was so excited for you to read it, and I'm very happy it lived up to the hype and anticipation!!! Truly, I am so honored and grateful that you would re-read something so long 🥹 it amazes me how supportive you are!! I hope I can continue to write things that you enjoy! One day in the [regretfully] far future I swear to you that I will put out an Idia fic just for you hehehe. I'm so overwhelmed by the amount of things I am excited to write, but I guess that is a wonderful problem to have! I only wish I had more time in the day to write, but alas, such is life. Why the fUCk am I writing so formal right now daiohssadoi;hdSAO not me saying BUT ALAS. SUCH IS LIFE????? It is so.
I'm actually taking a TWELVE DAY vacation from work starting on the 22nd so I might actually do a little request event where people can send me like kink prompts or something. I think that'll be fun!
Okay and FINE I'll do some fluff prompts too for the fluff people but please don't judge my fluff too harshly, I'm still learning!!! For some reason smut just comes naturally dhaDSAHIDDASijdsan I'll start gathering some prompts and we will do a little ask game or something.
Tumblr media
📣 By the way FELLOW HONEST THIGH RIDING ANON if you SEE this first of all, ONCE AGAIN: I wish to express my undying devotion to you and your exceptional thought process. I am positively frothing at the mouth over your request and I am PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE I am finally making good progress and it WILL be out soon. We WILL make him cum in his pants. We WILL make him cry, whimper, and moan.
Tumblr media
#sorry knight i took over your ask to make a desperate PSA for my hero: fellow honest thigh riding anon#ILYSM KNIGHT THANK U FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#does my millennial show when I key smash#as someone born in 96 i am actually right on the cutoff for millennial and gen z#so i choose to identify with whoever is getting the best press at the time#just kidding im sorry gen z i can't relate to yall at all...#i still like ugg boots and my hair will forever be side parted#most of my millennial cringe comes from being a tumblr user between 2010 and 2014#it is engrained#the cool thing about getting older (young people heed my words):#i am unbully-able (and one day you will be too)#you simply cannot make me feel bad about doing things i like to do and enjoying things that make me happy#take pride in what you enjoy and don't let societal norms stop you#also you don't have to worry about getting bullied anyway because adults literally don't do that to each other#everyone in their mid 20s and beyond have learned to stop caring about what other people do for their own enjoyment#because like... lets be real... seeing and learning about what makes people happy... is super cool. the world needs more happiness#this is also a call out: if your friends or online spaces make you feel bad about your interests... gtfo of there#thats not the norm. curate your spaces for what makes you feel good!!!#your 20s are shit enough without so much negativity during the times you are supposed to be relaxed and surrounded by loved ones#this post was made by ugg boot gang#‧͙+ ̊*・༓☾ Erica Answers ☽༓・* ̊+‧͙
14 notes · View notes
prismatic-bell · 3 years
Note
Hi,
This might be a strange question but it's something that's been on my mind recently. Is there any way that gentiles can help Jewish classmates (or any classmates that are religious but not christian) in situations where professors assign homework or exams on holidays? Is that something that we should bring up to professors even if we don't know if anyone in the class celebrates that holiday? Or is there a way that we can support classmates who speak up about needing to given time to celebrate their faith?
I'm sorry if this is awkwardly worded. I just want to know if there's anything I can do in the future to help in those kinds of situations. I don't want to step on any toes, but I also don't want my classmates to feel like they would be on their own if they spoke up. I know it might be difficult to do anything during the pandemic since I don't really know my classmates, so if you have any suggestions as to ways to help after the pandemic that would be great too.
First of all, this is like Allyship 101: “how can I help those who need this help?” So, A+ to you, friend.
The holidays you’re most likely going to run into problems with, at least for Jews (I encourage my siblings from other religions to chime in), will be Pesach and the High Holy Days. Pesach is juuuuuuust before Easter, and I know when I was in college it was quite common to get midterms that week. The High Holy days consist of three days within a ten-day span: Rosh Hashanah, Erev Yom Kippur (which some Jews may refer to as “Kol Nidre,” as this is the main prayer said during that service), and Yom Kippur. You know how there are Christmas and Easter Christians? You never see them in church except on Christmas Eve and Easter morning, but dammit you will always see them on those two days? Yeah, there are Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur Jews. Synagogues will overflow capacity trying to accommodate all who want to attend, and in many cases tickets may be required simply because there aren’t enough seats to safely hold all comers My sister’s synagogue has three chapels, and still has to double up services (as in, every prayer service is performed twice) to accommodate all attendees on these holidays.
I’m Reform, meaning there are a lot of mitzvot I don’t follow. Even so, here are just some of the restrictions I face on Yom Kippur:
--I cannot fast due to medical problems, but I am restricted to very small amounts of plain food (I usually have plain rice and a couple of tablespoons of peanut butter on the side for two tiny meals between services; maybe a small amount of plain chicken). Most people fast from both food and water for 25 hours.
--I can’t wear “nice” clothes. This doesn’t mean I don’t dress up--it means I shouldn’t wear anything that would encourage slouching, lounging, relaxing, etc. The focus of Yom Kippur and Erev Yom Kippur is study, reflection, and repentance--not luxury. You are expected to be uncomfortable. That’s the point.i
--There are five prayer services on Yom Kippur. I’m supposed to attend all of them. (I . . . won’t lie, I often skip the family service. It’s a rehash for the little kids about what Yom Kippur actually is, it’s about 45 minutes long, and it’s usually when I take my second meal.) It comprises about six hours’ worth of prayers, while Kol Nidre evening is about another two. Rosh Hashanah isn’t quite that intense; it’s more like four hours. Again, though, I’m Reform--Orthodox Jews may spend the entire twenty-five hours of Yom Kippur praying.
As you can imagine, the day of and the day after these services, I’m wiped. I don’t want to work. I don’t want to cook. I don’t want to do house chores. I want to rest, and I want to eat things that aren’t plain rice.
So what can you do?
First, I recommend a calendar app. My phone very considerately tells me when the holidays are, because the Jewish calendar is lunisolar and the dates change from year to year. You can also just . . . look up a Jewish calendar online. Keep in mind that the Jewish religious day runs from sunset to sunset, not from dawn to dawn. So for example, according to my phone, today was the first day of Chanukkah. In reality, we lit the first candle last night, because 25 Kislev began at 5:20 on 10 December. Almost all modern calendars will mark the first “full” day of the holiday, not its actual start the evening before, so keep that in mind.
Next, you may wish to ask directly on the first day of class if you see something concerning on the syllabus: “what is your policy for accommodation of religious observance?” IT IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT THAT YOU USE THE WORDS “ACCOMMODATION OF RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCE.” A secular Jew may wish to go home for Pesach even though they don’t believe in the story of the Exodus, and they should be allowed to do that without having to justify it in the same way as all the “well it’s not really about Jesus anymore, it’s a time for family” Christmas-observers, but that phrase up there is a magical phrase that means they are protected from discrimination if they choose to do that. Make the professor tell the entire class what the plan is. If you have an asshole who says they make no exception for religious observance, you can do one of two things: challenge the professor directly (”sir, are you aware that’s against the law?”), or go directly to the dean or principal. Be aware that you may face some backlash from the professor if they’re particularly petty, so keep an organized copy of all assignment rubrics and what you’ve turned in. That way if that backlash comes out in your grade, you can challenge it.
Now let’s say the teacher was thoughtless. I would like to draw a distinction here between “thoughtless” and “malicious” because as an ally, one is much easier to deal with than the other. “Thoughtless” can be approached thus: the prof tells you all the midterm essay will be assigned next Wednesday. You raise your hand and say “Sir? That’s Rosh Hashanah, people might not be here.” Your prof, who was thoughtless, goes “oh. All right, let me see” and looks over his notes and says “then let’s give the assignment next Monday. You’ll have two extra days to work on it, so make good use of them.” That is a good response to a mistake. A malicious response would basically be “too bad, so sad,” and you should go to the dean. Even if there are no Jews in your class, that attitude will 1) dissuade Jews from taking the class in the future and 2) potentially cause a lot of problems for the school, which the dean would really like to avoid.
Finally: if a classmate speaks up and says those words for themselves, and the professor is less than supportive, this is where you’re gonna have to grab onto your ovaries or testicles or whatever your personal body part of great courage is, and get confrontational:
“Professor, we get off automatically for our holiday. She should be allowed to celebrate too.”
Or even, if needed:
“Professor, that is discrimination.”
Keep in mind that last one may net you a very negative reaction if you have to use it. If a professor is nasty enough to go “I don’t give a shit” when presented with the problem in the first place, they may well be nasty enough to yell at you and criticize you in front of the class. Be ready for this, and realize it is not an attack on your character--it’s a reflection of the professor’s. They know they have no argument, so they’ll just try to cow you into silence. Stand your ground. If you are firm in your defense of your classmate, others may step up. Even if they don’t help you in that initial confrontation, they may offer to be witnesses if you take the matter to the dean. Make sure you introduce yourself to your classmate after the fact, and ask if there’s any further support or help they need. Make it clear that you’re happy to help.
Thank you for speaking up and speaking out. Best of luck to you in your studies!
1K notes · View notes
charlie-rulerofhell · 3 years
Text
An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”
Heyo, I'm back with another translation. This time the article is from the German Rolling Stone website who met with Måneskin after their TikTok performance at the Schwuz, Berlin, and posted the interview yesterday. Again there were some interesting questions asked (and the pictures they added to the article are quite nice, though severely lacking some Ethan content, but check it out!).
Again, I hope that no one has already gone through the effort and translated it or is currently working on a translation. Also this is an official invitation, if you stumble across any articles or video interviews in German that you would like to have translated just message me and I'll get to it! (or if you just wanna chat about Måneskin, my inbox is always open :))
Have a great day everyone!
Full article under the cut.
-----------------------------
An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”
Jose-Luis Amsler
July 6, 2021
Måneskin are just what this generation has been missing. Passionate, corny, and full-on honest. In an interview with Rolling Stones, the ESC winners explain to us why they would never work in a normal job and why the hype for their appearance is sometimes going too far.
Damiano, Victoria, Thomas and Ethan are entering the nearly deserted dance hall, before they wait on stage in a red-blue spotlight. They are wearing glittering fish net tops, black tape across their nipples, leather pants, heels and make up. The camera men who are filming in portrait format (9:16) suitable for TikTok are whirling up the haze of the fog machine.
Måneskin are [in] Berlin to give a TikTok concert. A TikTok livestream of this scale has not been done often – tension is in the air. The four Italians don't know at this point that due to the stream the few people present are not allowed to clap or cheer. In complete silence and with slight uncertainty the four are crossing Neukölln's club Schwuz. A few puzzled glances are exchanged. Finally,  Måneskin are striking the first chord.
Then the rich sound of Ethan's bass drum is tearing through the silence. It's almost as if someone has flicked a switch somewhere. There it is, the rock star presence that is hovering over everything they do, with an ounce of arrogance (in the best sense of the word). Singer Damiano is dancing lasciviously on his heels, and during an especially ecstatic solo guitarist Thomas is throwing himself down on the floor in a way it can only be done by a passionate 20-year-old musician who had never had to worry about the looming doom of an artificial knee joint [for 'passionate' the interview is using the term 'besessen' which means 'possessed', and although I think it's rather supposed to describe the way Thomas is 'possessed / obsessed' with the music, thus passionate for the music, you never know if they didn't mean to say that the way he dances looks 'possessed' … I mean, they might be on to something here ;)]. Around half an hour and about 120 decibel later, Damiano says their goodbyes with an almost shy-sounding “Okay, bye.” After the performance, we do our interview in the Schwuz.
Rolling Stone: It was a little bit weird, right, when you went on stage today?
Damiano: Yeah, that was really strange (laughs). They only told us after the performance that the audience was instructed to stay silent for the stream.
Vic: But at least they weren't silent because we were shit (all laughing). We are slowly getting used to playing without a live audience. I mean we are doing this now for more than a year.
RS: What do you think about these new kinds of concerts such as the TikTok livestream today?
Damiano: Well, at the moment it is the only option to perform anyway, so it's alright. But of course you cannot compare this to a proper concert.
Thomas: But it's pretty cool that so many people can experience our concert live.
Vic: Also we're gonna start touring again soon. Right now we are arranging some festival and gigs. In December we will be touring Italy and afterwards we are planning to go on tour through Europe. But we don't have anything fixed yet, there is just a lot going on at the moment.
“A lot going on”. Quite an understatement considering the recent journey Måneskin has made through the past weeks after their ESC win. Their singles “Beggin'” and “I Wanna Be Your Slave” went through the roof (also thanks to Social Media) and are currently dominating the international charts – lately they were also number one in Germany. There is barely a radio station that isn't playing the band on heavy rotation [would love to know what stations they listen to, have never heard Måneskin played in German radio tbh :( ], and everyone opening Instagram or TikTok these days is flooded by Måneskin content. Every second a new fanpage with the name of 'maneskin_obsession' or 'damianos_slut' is springing up like a (virtual) mushroom. It sounds like a cliche, but Damiano, Vic, Thomas and Ethan became international stars over night.
“Of course it's nice to get compliments. But sometimes they definitely cross a line.” – Damiano David
RS: How has your life as a band changed since your win at the ESC in Rotterdam?
Vic: I think we don't even notice a lot of what's happening. Right after the ESC we went to a studio in the countryside where we made music the whole day long. So at first we didn't realise that so many things were happening all around us – and that we had so many new fans. We're just now beginning to learn what's going on. We were at Sony yesterday, there were so many fans waiting for us. That was crazy.
RS: A large part of the attention you are getting now is about your outer appearance, your style, your attractiveness. Is that getting a little too much sometimes?
Damiano: Of course it's nice to get compliments (laughs). But sometimes they definitely cross a line. Especially when we just talk about our music or about a social or political topic that we care about. In those moments it's just completely inappropriate to reduce us to our appearance. Sure – when I'm posting a half-naked picture of myself on Instagram I know that I will get these kind of comments. And then it's totally fine, I mean in the end I'm posting the picture to show myself. But sometimes it's not the right place for it.
RS: And also you should be allowed to wear what you want without being sexualised, right?
Vic: Yes, absolutely. We are wearing these outfits because we feel good in them, not to put the focus on our bodies. And in general it shouldn't always only be about how you dress. We are musicians – so first and foremost it should be about our music. But I think it will still be a long way until we will reach that point.
“That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those things should never be equated with each other.” – Victoria De Angelis
RS: But still you are sending a message with your style against stereotypical gender roles. I guess it's also not only coincidence that we are in the Schwuz today, which is normally a party location and safe space for the LGBTQ community.
Vic: Yes, that is all part of the positive message that we try to send. We want to give our audience the feeling that they are free. Free to wear whatever they want to wear, be how they want to be and love whom they want to love. It's unbelievable that there is still so much intolerance in our times. That has always been really important to us so we try to talk about these topics. We also believe that the narrow-mindedness of society is an educational problem. When you grow up with people all around you telling you how you should be, you will never feel completely free. The more people are talking about it, the sooner things will change.
RS: Some artists who are advocating for these topics are accused of 'queerbaiting', that they are only pretending to be a certain way to gain more support from the queer community. Have you also been faced with those allegations?
Vic: Yes, a few times. But of course we never pretended to be anything. Some people accuse of us queerbaiting because we look and act the way we do. But that's flawed thinking. We don't believe that clothes are connected to a person's sexuality. That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those two things should never be equated with each other.
RS: This courage for free self expression that you are conveying is mainly lived by our (young) generation through Instagram and the like. What is your relationship to social media?
Damiano: For me it was almost scary at first. The more we grew, the more people were trying to twist all of my words. But over time you start to understand that with more fame you also get more criticism. The happier you look the more hate you will get. It's not only like that for celebrities. If you are brave enough to show the things that make you happy there will always be people that support you, but they are also those that envy you. Of course, this should never lead anyone to not express themselves openly but that's easier said than done.
Vic: We are also trying not to spend too much time on social media. In the end we just try to be honest with our fans and to avoid negativity.
[caption under the picture of Damiano: 'Is already being compared to icons such as David Bowie']
It's actually surprising how little power a win at the ESC holds in most cases. Almost 200 million people are watching this shining spectacle every year – and still, a few months afterwards it is hard to remember who those people were that got covered in confetti during the award ceremony. It's the well-known curse of a casting show that rests on the winning bands. When just next year a new sensation will come to marvel at, how much impact does a win have then? There are exceptions of course, like Lena who is until this day, 10 years after her win in Oslo, a part of the more famous music scene of German pop music. With their charisma, their unusual sound at least for our modern standards, and their contemporary message Måneskin could become such an exception, too.
It's likely also helpful that the band already had a standing in the Italian music scene prior to their ESC participation. Their first album 'Il ballo della vita' already achieved platinum in 2018, three years prior to Sanremo and the ESC. And then there is also the long way that led the four schoolmates to this point that helped them gain the necessary persistence. Because contrary to what some people might want to believe Måneskin are not a phenomenon that has just been deliberately bred to be this way by the entertainment industry for Eurovision.
“I have worked [in a 'normal' job] for a whole month in my entire life – it didn't really end well.” – Damiano David
RS: You were all raised in Rome, the capital of the catholic church. What was it like to start as a young progressive band in such a conservative environment?
Damiano: In the beginning, when we started as buskers, no one gave a damn about us anyways (all laughing). But of course … Once we got a bit bigger there were a few people who had a problem with us. For example when we went to Sanremo, there were quite many people who thought that the way we looked and acted we shouldn't be allowed to represent Italy. They didn't even want to listen to our music first.
Vic: Especially when it comes to appearance and sexuality, Italy is a little more backward than other countries. The church probably also has an influence there. They are often quite conservative of course, so many people grew up with such a [conservative] mindset.
RS: You once said that the song 'In Nome Del Padre' is an answer to exactly those people. What does the song mean to you?
Damiano: Back in the beginning [of our career] we had to deal with a lot of problems. They didn't want to let us play in clubs because we would take too much space as a band or because they didn't like our (fashion) style or because they didn't want to pay us. Italy isn't a good place for bands. Our musical style was also criticised a lot. Many people were telling us: Don't do that [rock music], you won't get popular with that in Italy, you will never achieve anything with it. Of course those comments were hurtful but they were also a good reason for us to continue with what we did. And we turned our sadness into anger. With that song we wanted to tell those people from back then: Fuck off and look at us, we did it!
RS: Did you ever consider working in a nine-to-five job and live a 'normal' life?
Damiano: Nah, not really. For one month in my life I worked [in a 'normal' job] – it didn't end well (all laughing).
Vic: We all made music since we were kids. It's a huge part of us, that we couldn't just ignore. And the most important thing is that you do something that makes you happy. At least that's what we believe. So we started from a young age to put all our time and energy into music.
Thomas: Yeah, exactly. Ever since we were in school together we always made music. That has always been our main focus and it is until today. We play and play and play because it is the only thing that …  
Ethan: … we live for.
Damiano: Music has also something very therapeutic for us. Even when we are in a bad mood or fight with each other – yeah, that happens, too – then all of that is gone the moment we enter the stage. Maybe that's the beautiful thing about music – that it allows you to forget everything else. You're just standing on stage, having fun with your friends.
From most bands you wouldn't buy such a corny love letter to music. Mostly it just sounds like an empty phrase, a well-practiced quotable line. But when there is something that defines Måneskin and that becomes more and more evident during our conversation it's their uncompromising honesty. The four of them are definitely not lacking a sense of humour but they take their music very seriously. Which should not be taken for granted in a generation that has mainly produced sarcastic cloud rappers and has made cynical twitter comedy a national sport. And maybe Måneskin are exactly what this generation was lacking all along.
Still, the four musicians, all in the age of 20 to 22, are also prone to the constant need for self-expression, that has become an intrinsic part of today's life. This does not only reflect in the outfits of the band (always 'on fleek') and their Instagram profiles, but also in their lyrics. Their latest record 'Teatra D'Ira – Vol. 1' shows a clear theme: The album is an ode to individuality, accentuated by fast and hard sounds.
Sometimes this message fitting for a Disney movie [really? guess I have been watching the wrong Disney movies my whole life …] is wrapped in a contrasting loud and forceful packaging, but never so much that it becomes inauthentic or self-caricaturing [note: I'm honestly not entirely sure what they wanted to say with this sentence since it uses a lot of rhetorical devices that could be interpreted in different ways, but I'd say this sounds the most plausible]. And in the end, the thing that makes Måneskin so interesting is their unification of the spirit of this time – between TikTok hedonism and an omnipresent political statement – with the music of past generations.
“When you are twenty, you start to think about what the future will hold.” – Damiano David
RS: Your musical style is often described as classical 70s rock, but in fact there are many different influences in your music. Sometimes you groove almost into funk, sometimes it's more rapping than singing. How did this mixture come to be?
Thomas: It's just that we all have our own individual influences and then we meet somewhere in the middle. And we always try to stay open for experiments.
Ethan: Yes, we are very experimental in our song writing process.
Vic: We also don't want to limit ourselves to what is regarded as typical rock music. If rap fits better at some point then we just add that in. It just happens naturally without us thinking too much about it.
RS: So why was it still rock music in the end?
Vic: Because it's the style that we feel most represented by. But actually we just play the music that we enjoy playing. That's really important to us so that we can show something real on stage. We don't want to pretend to be something that we aren't or mock those people that really enjoy our music. You should always be proud of what you're doing and never fake anything just to sell more records.
RS: Is there something like an Italian rock music scene?
Vic: There are quite a lot of bands – but the most of them are much older than us or they are more going in the direction Indie rock. There isn't really a young rock scene, which we think is a pity. But ever since we got more famous people are telling us that they started listening to rock music because of us or that they bought their first guitar and such. That's incredibly nice!
RS: So you're saying that you also want to show this style of music to a younger generation. And you capture this contrast quite well in the song 'Vent'anni', which is a typical rock ballad but lyrically portrays the thoughts of today's youth. Where did the motivation come from to write that song?
Damiano: With the song I wanted to show that I'm just a normal guy, a really typical 20-year-old. I experience the same things that other people in my age are experiencing, I'm just doing another job than them. Also I wanted to describe this age as a whole because I think it's a really special age. At 20 you start to think about what the future will hold. I think it's one of the most important stages of your life. Since we (the four of us) are all in the same age, I then started to mix our experiences together. In the end the song shows what it means to us to be 20. There is a lot of good things – you are quite carefree and are looking at life enthusiastically. But on the other hand you're too young to do certain things and too old to do others. Some people are treating you like a full-grown adult, but …
Vic: … not entirely.
Damiano: Exactly. It can get pretty frustrating at times. We wanted to show our audience: Hey, we're also just 20 years old, and we're going through the same things as you. We understand you.
RS: Except that you are the ones who are becoming a world-wide phenomenon right now. How do you want to maintain this honesty?
Damiano: I think that we could just reach this point because we have always been authentic – for better or for worse. Also we are just trying to have fun with what we're doing together. That's something special that we don't want to lose. In the end we're just four friends who started to live their dream. It's actually pretty simple. Of course – we go on stage, we get a lot of attention, we give interviews – but when we come back home we're just four friends.
225 notes · View notes
luminari-mc · 3 years
Text
My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.
Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon
Word count: 5194
Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.
Warnings: N/A
A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)
______________________________________________________
Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.
Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.
And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.
"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."
As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.
Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.
"It wasn't there, you idiot..."
His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.
He was truly cursed.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.
Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.
For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.
The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.
"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"
A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?
His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.
Leviathan: Mammon!!
Leviathan: Where are you???
Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.
Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!
Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.
Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!
Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!
Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.
The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.
Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.
Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.
Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.
Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???
Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.
Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?
Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.
Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!
Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??
Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!
The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.
But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.
It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?
His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.
Leviathan: wait
Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait
Leviathan: OMG NO WAY
Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING
Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?
Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT
Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??
Shit.
How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.
Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.
Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.
Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.
Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there
Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk
Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?
Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.
The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.
And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.
Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.
Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!
Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.
Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.
Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.
Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.
Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.
Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.
Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.
Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".
Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????
Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.
Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.
Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.
Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.
Leviathan: Mammon
Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU
Leviathan: but
Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!
Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.
For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.
Mammon: Alright Levi listen.
Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.
Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.
Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?
Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!
Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.
Leviathan: But huh... I could try?
Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.
Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.
Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.
Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.
Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.
Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.
Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.
Leviathan: Yeah!
Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.
Leviathan: BRB!
And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.
Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?
The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.
"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."
I'll find ya.
Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.
After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.
A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.
Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.
Mammon: This is it?
Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.
Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.
Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.
Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol
Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!
Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.
Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.
Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.
Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.
The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.
"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.
'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'
'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'
They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?
2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.
The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.
Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.
But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.
'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'
'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'
'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'
And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.
Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.
How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?
Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...
No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.
They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.
And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.
"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?
Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.
"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.
As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.
That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.
"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"
It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.
But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.
Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.
The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.
His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.
Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.
The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.
"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."
275 notes · View notes
matsbarzal · 3 years
Text
Time’s a Ticking || Matthew Tkachuk
Notes: anyways I decided to do matty and I found this long list of soulmate AU prompts so I know what I’m doing tonight yikes. so here’s a lil bit of a nervous/anxious matty even tho he refuses to admit it. hope you enjoy!!! let me know how you like it <3 
Summary: everyone is born with a dwindling time on their wrist. the moment the time reaches zero is when a person meets their other half, the person who makes them whole; their soulmate. 
Word Count: 3k+
Tumblr media
10,584. 7 days, 8 hours and 24 minutes. 7 days until he’d meet his other half, the person that’s meant to complete his soul, be his better half, or whatever a soulmate is meant to be. Matthew wasn’t crazy about the idea of soulmates, sure, he was surrounded by people who were madly in love and happy and complete; but he was also surrounded by those people... the one’s whose time stopped, girls and guys who had a permanent marking of time on their wrist that would never move again.
He wouldn’t say he was a pessimistic person, but he had seen so many friends and family fall into a spiral after their soulmate clock stopped ticking, watched as their other half broke them without even meeting them. He wanted to be excited and optimistic but Matthew couldn’t bring himself to feel the same delight that his friends did on his behalf. Anything could happen in this 7 days, 8 hours... and 22 minutes now.
6160 minutes
You could feel the bump of the plane as it touched the ground. This was the one part of flying you hated the most, the anxiety and the bumping as the plane made its way down the runway towards its destination. You knew anything bad was unlikely to happen, but your nerves were on edge. All you could think about was the time on your wrist, the time that kept on ticking. It hadn’t stopped in your entire 21 years of life, and from the looks of it, you were approximately four days away from that happening.
Sighing, you listened to the claps from around you as everyone congratulated the pilots for landing the plane safely. Around you, people stood up and began collecting their belongings, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartments as the chatter continued in the cabin.
You politely smiled at the man beside you as he passed you down your bag, a quick “Thank you” leaving your lips as he gestured for you to walk in front of him towards the exit. 
Originally, you hadn’t had any intention of leaving Alberta for the holiday break, but your parents had practically begged you to come home for the holiday’s, citing the fact you had remained in Lake Louise for the last year and that they had only seen you once since you made the choice to unravel everything you knew by packing a few bags and moving halfway across the country to Alberta to work at some fancy ski resort in the mountains. 
It was originally only meant to be a few months worth of work, waitressing in Lake Louise at a 5-star resort that is, and then time kept going by, and the more and more you fell in love with not only the scenery, but the people. Everyone was happy there, tourists were always excited and polite, everyone just wanted the chance to see the Lake, skate on the Lake, whatever it was. No one was ever unhappy here, and you loved that. 
You were pulled out of your thoughts as the line in front of you continued to move quickly, people eager to get out of the cabin and get back into the fresh air that flowed outside. You could barely contain your giddiness as you stepped off the plane. You could barely believe how much you missed the province, missed your friends, coworkers, you even missed the tourists. Who would’ve thought?
After about 20 minutes of watching the carousal spin and spin and spin, you finally eyed your bright red, Flames red, as a lot of people reminded you, suitcase. Grabbing it, you hauled the bag off of the carousal and onto the ground. You were eager to get to your car, which you had already paid a good 500 dollars worth of parking for, and eager to get the move on the three hour drive across Highway 1 to Lake Louise. 
After four and a half hours of travelling, you knew this three hour drive was going to exhaust you. And with the temperature out in Alberta right now? All you wanted was your bed and a cup of piping warm hot chocolate to end the day.
4590 minutes
“Man, your face is already awful to look at. You really trying to ruin it even more right before you meet your soulmate?”
Before Noah could even think, a wad of tape hit the side of his head while exclamations went up around the room about the choice of target. “Whoops, guess my tape slipped... out of my hand.”
Matthew shrugged his shoulders, an innocent grin on his face as he stood up to grab the tape from beside Noah Hanifin’s locker. 
“No, but seriously, why are you getting into fights with three days left on your wrist? Don’t go and get yourself killed or something, they’d be devastated if they’ve waited this long for your dumb-ass just to have 4000 minutes tattooed on her wrist for the rest of her life.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Matthew ignored his teammates comments, choosing instead to run his finger across the always-changing number on his wrist. 
“It’s not like it matters anyways.” His words were barely above a mumble, but it was enough to spark the attention of his captain, who was quick to tell him to meet him in the trainer’s office after he was done showering and getting the blood that was currently dripping down his face, cleaned.
Obliging on his captain’s orders, he found Gio in the office, a tight smile the only warning that he was about to get ripped apart by the veteran. Gio was one of the lucky ones, he had barely been 16 when his clock finally hit the big 0. It made him an advocate for all the soulmate bullshit, constantly encouraging his teammates to wait it out, be patient, their time would come. 
“Chucky, buddy, we gotta have a chat.”
Quirking his eyebrows at the older man, Matthew nodded, “Well Gio, I kinda figured that one out buddy, unless you pulled me in here to look at my oh so pretty face.” 
“I’m serious. You need to stop with this constant bashing of soulmates and times and shit. I know you don’t like it and you hate the concept of soulmates and whatever, but you’re doing nothing but worrying the younger guys. These kids are constantly terrified their minutes are just going to stop and be etched into their skin.”
Subconsciously running his fingers across the number on his wrist again, 4530 minutes. Wonder what that is in exact time. Shrugging his shoulders, he was quick to apologize to his captain. “Sorry, G. Not trying to scare the kids, just getting a little... I don’t know? Worried? It’s getting too close, I don’t want to get like...  it’s not important, never mind. I’ll stop talking about times in the locker room. Sorry.”
Quickly tightening the tie that was now wrapped around his neck, Matthew raced out of the office before Gio could say something else to him. He eagerly grabbed his phone, wallet, keys and suit jacket before quickly making his way towards the parking garage, the only thing on his mind was of course, you.
2120 minutes
One whole day and just a few hours. You could barely breath as you ran your thumb over the little black number on your wrist. You knew it was inevitable that you’d be meeting your soulmate while working, the moment you looked at the work schedule when you arrived back from home, you knew you’d be stuck working during the time in which you were meant to meet you soulmate. You were giddy, sure. But what if they didn’t like you? What if whoever it was, was snooty, and rude, and didn’t like you for who you were?
“Y/N, you gotta stop thinking about it, babe. You’re gonna get your head stuck in a whirlwind of thoughts. Think about other things! Like... the Calgary Flames.”
Eyeing the blonde beside you, “Tell me Cassidy, why in the world, would I think about the Calgary Flames, instead of thinking about my soulmate?”
Your coworker shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the board behind your head. You had all been notified a day prior that the Calgary Flames had reserved a whole floor of the Chateau for the weekend. With your restaurant being directly in view of the Lake and the Mountains, you were expected to be the main dining spot for the team over their course of the weekend.
“Believe me, Cass, the last thing I want to think about is a bunch of hockey boys who are going to make me miserable the weekend where I’m supposed to be... not miserable.”
She winked at you, a teasing glint in her eyes, “Maybe one of those awful hockey boys has the same number on your wrist. Maybe Noah Hanifin’s your soulmate. God, I’d be so jealous, could you imagine being destined for that beautiful exhibit of a man? God, I’d climb him like a tree.”
Laughing, you wacked her with the towel in your hand as she continued to egg you on, gloating about how beautiful of a specimen Noah Hanifin was, and how she’d do just anything to crawl into bed with that man. Cassidy was always like this, bubbly, happy, positive. Her number had stopped moving 12 years ago, or so she says. She hadn’t been paying attention the day it stopped, the number etching itself into her skin permanently, to never move again. She was never negative about it, always saying that she hoped just the thought of her brought peace to her soulmate in their last moments. 
“Okay okay, enough about the Flames. I doubt it’s even going to end up being any of them, hockey boys and I do not get along. Especially the one’s that are just constantly bothering people, and that’s the entire Flames roster, so... let’s get back to work.”
440 minutes
One thing Matthew was sure of was the fact that he loved everything about the drive to Lake Louise. He wasn’t notorious for being a huge fan of the scenery around him, but something about the drive across Highway 1, the trees, the snow covered mountains, they all just faded together and created this picture in his head. It was hard to describe, there wasn’t anything specific to the picture, it was just joyful, it was happy, it was calm. Jesus, maybe he was just fucking crazy. 
A lot of people always said you feel more calm in the hours leading up to the first time you meet your soulmate. But he sure as hell didn’t feel calm. He was on edge, the scenery around him, albeit, it was beautiful, it was not calming him down. His leg was shaking, his foot tapping the ground beneath him on the bus. He could see Johnny giving him a look every time his shaking leg touched his teammates. He knew the entire team was frustrated with him. Two games straight, two 10 minute fighting majors. 
He was being a pest, constantly egging people on, trying to ignite arguments or fights or just some form of stimuli to get his mind off of the only thing it could stray to. You. He didn’t want to think about whoever the hell you were, he didn’t want to get his hopes up that maybe his clock would actually hit 0, maybe he’d actually meet his better half. Or maybe he'd fall through a crack in Lake Louise and never have to worry about it again... hopefully. 
“If you touch my leg... one more fucking time, I am going to sock you in the fucking face Chucky.”
Immediately pressing his heel into the ground, Matthew mumbled out a quick ‘sorry’ to the teammate beside him as he watched the trees continue to go by outside the bus window. The time was still changing on his wrist, every minute counting down as the minutes passed outside. There was barely any cell service on the drive up, so the only thing that could truly distract him at this rate, was you, and he hated that.
“Soooo... you excited Chucky? It’s gotta be the big day, no?”
If choking a teammate was legal, Matthew would already be wringing Noah Hanifin’s neck. 
“Yeah, delighted.”
“C’mon grumpy pants, you’re literally like what? 6 hours away from meeting the person who’s supposed to complete your soul... and you’re in a foul mood. Did Doughty crawl up your ass and die last night or?”
Grinding his teeth, Matthew tried to bite his tongue, refusing to lash out at his teammate, even though he so desperately wanted to. He wasn’t going to be the cause for a toxic locker room, especially over something as stupid as soulmates. 
It was obvious that something was going on, everyone on the team knew the time on his wrist equalled out to less than a day. Everyone could see how on edge he was slowly getting as the time dwindled down, but no one could figure out why he was getting more and more frustrated, why the excitement wasn’t shining through as the time continued.
“Why the hell aren’t you excited man? This person’s supposed to be the love of your life, and you seem like you couldn’t give two fucks if you meet them or not?”
It was too late, Matthew was exploding before he could even comprehend what he was saying. “It doesn’t fucking matter man, okay? I don’t give a shit about this soulmate bullshit. Everyone’s soulmate is gone one day anyways, what the hell does it matter if you meet them now? I’m gonna be aching at some point because they’re gone and I’m alone. Woohoo, I get to meet them today, woo-fucking-hoo. I could literally not care less, so stop bugging me.”
27 minutes.
It was all around, highly likely, that your soulmate had some form of connection with the Calgary Flames. Their reservation was scheduled for 23 minutes from now... and your wrist had that small number 27 etched on it as it continued to count down. 
“Wow... maybe your soulmate really is Noah Hanifin... I’m sorry for saying I’d climb him like a tree.”
A loud laugh left your throat as you watched a guilty smile form on your co-workers face. “Cass, I highly doubt it’s Noah Hanifin. It’s probably just a coincidence that their reservation time coincides with my meeting my soulmate time.” Cassidy gave you a knowing look as she walked away, a small smile on her face.
You were anxious, you couldn’t deny it. Every second that counted down, you were nervous, what if you weren’t good enough for them? What if they were embarrassed it was you? What if... oh god... what if they hated soulmates? What if they were one of those people who was willing to cut the tie, ignore the call, ignore the connection?
You refused to think about that, instead putting yourself to work, clearing the tables and plates of the previous occupants, you waved off the clearing crew, instead choosing to do it yourself. Anything to get your mind off of it. 
The Flames weren't the only occupants of the Chateau tonight, only taking up about half, you were able to still seat other tourists who were interested in the view tonight. 
That’s how you found yourself, 25 minutes later, your hand on your hip as you interacted with the group of rowdy guys in front of you. They were from Edmonton, and they were absolutely hammered. They were as nice as you could expect them to be, continuously flirting your ears off, as they tried to impress you with their... what was it? Accounting job? You couldn’t remember for the life of you, your mind solely stuck on the small number 1 now etched on your wrist. 
You were roused out of your thoughts at the feeling of a hand touching your waist. “C’mon sweetheart, you’re not even paying attention to us here. Take a shot with us, baby!”
You politely removed the offending wrist, a tight smile now etched on your face. “First, I would ask that you please don’t touch me. Second, I was most definitely listening. You boys want another round of beers, and 6 tequila shots. Unfortunately, I don’t believe the shots are the best idea, nor do I think the beer is, but I’ll definitely get you a glass of water.”
Spinning on your heel, you went to walk away but were stopped by the feeling of a hand tightly gripping your wrist, a small squeak falling from your lips.
“We don’t want water.”
“Please get your hand off of me.”
“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.” 
You were about to retort, a vicious snarl on your lips, but your words were caught in your throat as you watched a fist connect to the cheek of the man in front of you, a gasp leaving your throat.
2 minutes
This had to be a joke. He was apparently two minutes away from meeting his soulmate, and here he was, in an orderly fashioned line as him and his teammates made their way into the restaurant. He could barely breath, his pants felt too tight on his hips, he could feel the sweat seeping through his shirt. Thank god he made the choice to wear black. 
It felt like everyone’s eyes were on his, everyone was wearily watching the number on his wrist go down, as the obvious anxieties began to cloud his every thought, action, move... everything.
He tried to take his mind off of it, observing the restaurant as the team slowly made their way to their designated tables. There were a few other patrons, most of them caught up in their own world. One specific table caught his eye, they were a group of rowdy guys, maybe a few years older than him. 
Quite frankly, they looked like all around assholes. Looked like the guys you’d see from Wolf of Wall Street, and from the looks of it, they were really starting to irritate their waitress. Although, all he could see was your back, your posture was unbelievably straight, your hand on your hip as you inventively listened to the guys in front of you.
Matthew continued to watch you, something inside of him telling him that he just couldn’t look away. He had to keep looking. He watched as you turned your body, ready to walk to wherever your destination in mind was, but he instantly zeroed in on the hand that was now tightly wrapped around your wrist, a violent look on the man’s face.
He wasn’t moving on his own accord now, his feet were basically moving by themselves as they raced towards you.
“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.”
His fist was connecting with the other man’s face before he could even think. He heard the gasp from beside him, he watched the number on his wrist hit 0 the exact moment he looked at you, a look of shock on everyone’s faces.
“Chucky!”
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m going to call the police you fucking curly-headed fuck.”
He could barely focus on the voices around him. You were here. You were literally right in front of him. Both of your numbers were at 0, he could see it on your wrist. He was literally staring in the eyes of his soulmate.
“Oh my god, you punched one of our guests.” Your voice was like bells to his ear, soft, delicate, everything he wasn’t... but god, you were perfect.
“I’m Matthew, and yes... I uh... I think I did punch one of your guests. I also think you’re my soulmate. Does it count as self-defence... if I punched him in my soulmate’s defence?” 
You laughed, trying to cover it up with your mouth as you watched your manager’s rush towards the now bleeding asshole at the table behind you. 
“I think I like you already, Matthew.”
260 notes · View notes
haikyunicorn · 3 years
Text
⋇ kiss and make up [semi eita x reader]
Tumblr media
pairing(s): semi eita x reader
genre: angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, roommates au
warning(s): like 2 curse words
word count: 2.91k
requested by: @dorkyhaikyu
Tumblr media
Semi Eita has been in a mood recently. You know it isn’t an unusual occurrence - he tends to be a little sulky or wants to be left alone if he’s had a bad day - but his fits usually only last for a few hours at most, not a whole week.
You are at a loss. You’ve known Semi for almost 7 years now, ever since you both attended Shiratorizawa and you signed up to be the manager of the volleyball club during your first year, and Semi had never acted this way towards you before. Being in the same year, you, Semi, Tendou, Ushijima and Reon easily formed a tight-knit friendship, often eating lunch or walking back to the dorms together.
Though, somewhere along the three years you spent together, your feelings had sort of developed into something a little more than friendly adoration for the grey-haired setter. You never ended up acknowledging those feelings, fearing it would only ruin your relationship not only with him, but with the other third years as well. So you shoved them deep down in your heart and tried your best to not let it consume you. Even if Tendou had tried multiple times to corner you and confront you about your tiny crush  (you’d been staring too long, cheering too loud or being too kind for it to be just friendly gestures, he says), you stood your ground each time and adamantly denied his suspicions. Besides, Semi had never once shown any signs of reciprocating your feelings, so you figured you shouldn’t baselessly act on it and embarrass yourself.
Still, it hadn’t been a difficult decision to agree on sharing an apartment when you and Semi were accepted into the same college a few hours away. Firstly, it would eliminate the need to find a new roommate altogether and secondly, the both of you already knew each other - you were practically best friends, after all - so you didn’t have to worry about getting along with new roommates.
And it’s proven to be a great idea, so far. You get to spend more time with Semi, bearing the struggles of college work together, and the two of you are each other’s definitions of the perfect roommate. Neither of you have any annoying habits, you get your chores done, you have weekly movie nights, and you take care of each other. The only downside you could think of is that it doesn't exactly help you with the feelings you’ve been secretly harboring for him, but you’ve managed to keep it under wraps so far. Overall, you could say it’s the best college roommate situation you could ask for.
That is, until this week.
Normally, you would leave Semi alone for the few hours of his bad mood, maybe order in his favourite food or let him choose a film for movie night to appease him, and he would be his usual self in no time at all.
However, this obviously isn’t ‘normally’ any longer. Eita has been giving you the cold shoulder since Monday, only replying to your questions with short yes’s and no’s whenever you tried to make conversation with him before returning to his room and avoiding you again. You don’t think he’s exchanged more than 10 words with you for the past 6 days and honestly, you are starting to get fed up with his attitude, but you decide to give it one last try.
It’s Saturday, meaning it’s supposed to be movie night. Semi has yet to leave his room the whole day, at least not while you aren’t in your own room. Determined, you walk up to his room and knock on the door three times.
“Eita, you there?” you call out, hovering right by the door to catch his answer.
His reply comes in the form of faint shuffling from the other side, followed by a monotonous “What?”
“It’s movie night. You wanna choose a movie?”
It’s silent for a few seconds.
“No, thanks. I’m tired tonight.”
For a moment, you freeze, not believing what you had just heard. Movie night had been a ritual that the both of you have never skipped out on unless it was absolutely necessary, such as during the exam week or when one of you happened to not be home. However, you know him well enough to know he definitely hasn’t had a busy schedule for the past few weeks that would exhaust him out of movie night. You snap out of your shock and scoff.
“Tired of what? You haven’t even done anything all day. Come out and talk to me, Semi Eita!” you snap back at him, the frustration that has been building up evident in your raised voice.
To your surprise, the door instantly click open to reveal Semi standing in front of you, a scowl on his face. “I told you I’m tired, am i not allowed to be tired now?”
“Look, I get you’re mad at something or even at me - you’re not the best at hiding your feelings, Eita - but, the least you could do is talk to me about it instead of moping around in your pissy mood all week.” The frown on your face now matching his as you all but growl your words at him.
Semi rolls his eyes and looks away from you. “It’s nothing, stop worrying about it.”
You cock an eyebrow at his weak response. “Cut the crap, Eita, I know you better than that. If it’s nothing, then you wouldn’t have ignored me for 6 days straight.”
“I don’t have to tell you everything that’s going on in my life, Y/N,” he shoots back.
“You always have before! For fuck’s sake, we’re best friends,” you argue, sighing before continuing your mini rant, “This thing is obviously bothering you, so as your friend, I’d like to help you. But I can’t do that if you won’t even be in the same room as me for more than two seconds.”
“Well, maybe we’re not as good friends as you think we are.”
You couldn’t stop the flash of pain in your chest or the tears beginning to collect behind your eyes as you clench your jaw. On a different day, maybe you would have continued to fight back against his statement, insisting that he tell you the truth. But the combination of his burning anger seething through his words and his cold treatment for the past few days is enough to render your speechless.
Unable to formulate an answer - and afraid you would actually start crying if you do - you wordlessly shake your head at him and take quick steps to your own room. You slam the door shut and immediately crawl onto your bed, throwing the sheets over yourself as you finally let the first tear escape. It doesn’t take long before the dam breaks and you have to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your sobs. A few minutes later, you hear the door to Semi’s room finally close.
That night, the living room remains dark and silent, the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table left untouched.
After the incident, both you and Semi avoid each other like the plague. You deliberately leave the apartment 20 minutes later than usual each morning for your classes to make sure you wouldn’t run into him, sometimes even skipping breakfast in order to do so, and you head straight back after your classes to hide in your room, only coming out to get meals when you know for sure Semi isn’t in the living room or kitchen. It’s a hassle - you’re messing up your sleeping and eating schedules - but you can’t bring yourself to face him. You’re not sure if you can’t or if you just don’t want to.
Deep inside, you know Semi’s words were just something he said in the heat of the moment and couldn’t be farther from the truth, but it doesn’t mean it hurt you any less. You have always confided your troubles in him and vice versa. Neither of you would let negative feelings fester between the two of you and any fights or arguments would be resolved quickly. But, this whole spat has been going on for two weeks and counting now, and it is decidedly much worse than the one-sided silent treatment from Semi that had initially sparked the dispute.
And you can’t help but begin to think that what Semi said was the truth - that he truly doesn’t consider you as close a friend as you thought you were. And how could you not wonder? After all, he hasn’t made any effort to talk to you at all.
You don’t know whether it’s a good or bad thing when you slip up one day.
The next time you and Semi are in each other’s presence is in the kitchen. You are home alone and fixing a meal for your dinner, thinking you have at least an hour before Semi returns. Left with your own thoughts to entertain you, you find yourself thinking back to the dreaded night, causing you to grimace as a painful throbbing starts up again in your chest. You notice that it’s been happening a lot ever since the argument.
Deep in your thoughts, you fail to hear the sound of the front door opening and closing or the movement of your roommate as he enters the apartment until it’s too late. You swiftly turn around to see Semi, eyes as wide as your own, standing in front of the kitchen doorway and already staring back at you. The both of you are frozen in place, unknowingly holding your breaths. It’s a comical sight, really; one you would laugh at if it were happening to someone else.
You are the first to avert your gaze, once again turning to face the stove without saying anything to him, praying he would ignore you as he had been doing for the past few weeks.
No such luck.
“Y/N.” Semi cleared his throat. You can hear the nerves in his tone, making his voice waver just slightly.
Your breath hitches once again in your throat, making you halt in the middle of stirring your pot. Other than that, you don’t indicate any signs of acknowledging him.
Semi is hesitant to approach you. He has been feeling like utter shit for weeks - ever since he started to brush you off in the first place. It was nothing but his dumb, unchecked feelings and his even dumber actions that threw you both in this situation. He doesn’t remember the last time the both of you had been this distant - no, he realises, you never have. Not since you walked up to him almost 7 years ago and introduced yourself as the new manager of the Shiratorizawa boy’s volleyball club, causing his heart to stutter as he shook your hand and gave you his name. You have only grown closer since then.
Semi sucks in a deep breath at your lack of reaction and braves himself to step closer. His chest tightens when he sees you tense up as you sense his advance towards you and he stops halfway to you. “Y/N,” he tries again.
Still no reply.
Slowly, he takes a few more steps, until you’re within arms’ reach of him. “Y/N.” His voice is much softer now, almost begging. His hand instinctively reaches out to you but pauses, hanging between the both of you.
You’re stuck on what you should do. Most of you wants to run off and scurry back into your room, but a tiny part of you wants so badly to stay and hear him out, to make amends with Semi Eita and forget this stupid fight already. You continue to look down, willing your heart to stop beating so rapidly.
Or at least you try to. The feeling of Semi’s hand brushing against your shoulder only makes your heart pound quicker.
“Can we talk?” Semi asks, uncharacteristically quiet of him.
You want to shrug his hand off and walk away, leave him in the kitchen and give him a taste of his own medicine. But, you suppose it wouldn’t fix anything and it wouldn’t bring the Semi Eita you love so much back to you. So you dare yourself to switch off the stove and face him instead, keeping your face expressionless as you wait for him to continue.
Semi squirms under your unreadable gaze. He knows he has to fix this now if he ever wants things to be normal again. He’s struggling, though, to find the right words and he’s worrying if would be enough or if it could make things worse or if you’ll ever forgive him or-
“I’m sorry,” Semi blurts out, his own voice surprising himself. He swallows a lump in his throat, trying to gauge your reaction and failing as your expression remains the same. He takes it as a sign for him to continue, and the words just tumble out of him in a flurry. “I’m sorry I was being a dick. I had no reason to, and it just escalated and I should’ve stopped it before it’s too late. And I’m sorry for what I said and for apologising so late and-”
He’s cut off by your sigh, instantly shutting him up. He thinks his heart could stop any second now, his lower lip caught in between his teeth as he anticipates your response.
“Did you mean it?”
Semi’s heart drops. He was expecting you to scold him, snap at him, or even yell at him. Any of those, he thinks, would be better than the frail words that escaped you, doubting how much you mean to him.
“No. None of it. You are my best friend. I shouldn’t have treated you like that,” he states firmly. “Please believe me, Y/N. You mean so much to me.”
You somehow manage to maintain eye contact with him. “So why did you do it?”
Semi falters. His mind knew exactly why he did it, but the words can’t leave the tip of his tongue.
The silence hangs in the air for a whole minute before you sigh again and turn around to leave, heart heavy and disappointed at his reply, or lack thereof. However, you don’t make it two steps away before a hand is wrapping around your wrist and tugging you back, making you crash into him. Before he knows it, the panic bubbling in his throat causes Semi to launch into another speech, letting the words spill out once again without a filter.
“It’s stupid,” Semi frantically tells you, looking you in the eyes, “it’s so goddamn stupid. I- I heard that guy you’ve been doing your project with confessed to you. And I couldn’t stand that when I heard it.”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What- Why-”
“I’m in love with you.”
It’s silent again before Semi continues.
“I’m so in love with you, Y/N. God, I’ve been in love with you for the past 6 years, I was just too scared to say it. And I know now that I should’ve said something sooner instead of blowing up on you and hurting you. You don’t deserve that, I’m sorry.” He exhales and opts to look at his hand, still holding onto you. His grip loosens. “I’m sorry I’ve ruined this friendship, too. The last thing I want is to lose you but I guess I went and did that anyway, huh?” he chuckles humorlessly, his voice trailing off at the end of his sentence. “I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”
“You’re an idiot, Semi Eita.” Your words cause him to look back up at you and his heart clenches at the tears brimming your eyes.
“I’m sor-”
Semi is cut off, but this time it was by you grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him close to you and smashing your lips together. The shock only lasts half a second before Semi is kissing back with as much need as you are. The warmth blooms in his chest as your lips continue to capture each other’s perfectly and his body moves on its own to pull you closer into him. His mind couldn’t register any thoughts besides oh my god, this is what he’s been wanting for so long and it’s finally happening.
You pull away breathlessly, trying to catch your breath as you laugh lightly at the puzzled expression on Semi’s face. The both of you remain in the same position though, with your hands resting on his chest and his arms around your waist, holding you flush against him.
“Eita, that guy did ask me out,” you start, “but I turned him down. Because I was in love with someone else, too.”
You smile genuinely, for the first time in a while. “Semi Eita, I’m in love with you, too,” you finally declare. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest and in its place is the pure love and affection you have for him.
Semi laughs in relief. His mind is still reeling at your words and what just happened. All he can do is hug you tighter and bury his face into the crook of your neck. “I love you,” he murmurs, “so much.” He pulls away to look at you once more, a huge, goofy grin plastered across his face.
“Will you be mine, Y/N?”
Tumblr media
note: oh my godd this is the longest thing i’ve written on here and i CANNOT come up with a better title i hate it :) i tried writing this in present tense instead of past tense like i usually do, so forgive me if there are a few slip ups. hope you enjoyed this!
[ taglist: @eitadesu​ ]
163 notes · View notes
jpegjade · 4 years
Text
Baby Delivery Day! - Spencer
WELCOME TO DAD!SPENCER TIME! 
Thank you to the anon who made me think about Spencer being a dad! But I’ve decided that any time I think about Spencer being a father, I’m going to write about it. I guess you could call that a series? Idk man. It’ll be sporadic though so there’s no schedule for it. So this won’t be the last of dad!Spencer
Warnings: Swearing. Lots and lots of swearing in the beginning. Also fluff. Lots and lots of cuddly fluff and happy dad!Spencer. 
_________
Twins. Twins. Twins. Spencer kept saying it to himself but it never registered. Twins… “Oh fuck, I’m having twins.” 
“Last time I checked, you weren’t carrying two extra people inside of you so shut the fuck up.” You said, gripping his hand hard. It was baby day and all you could do was yell at him because you were in pain. He wasn’t phased by it because each time you said something, you immediately followed it up with, “Oh god I’m so sorry baby. I promise I’m not doing it on purpose.” And that was immediately followed by more groaning in pain. 
“Okay, breathe. Your contractions are getting close enough to get an epidural, which will significantly help. Just don’t think about the statistical probability of significant nerve damage with the injection of the-” 
“Spencer goddamn Reid, I swear to god. This isn’t the time to be fucking smart, you smartass.” You said. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 
He kissed your hand, staying by your side. The nurse came in to check on your vitals and see how you were feeling. She stayed for a moment, looking over at Spencer’s eager face. Of course, he was eager. He was going to be a dad. He couldn’t stop smiling, which pissed you off because you were in the worst pain of your life. He finally got to fulfill his dream of being a father to his own kids. Not a godfather, not an unrelated uncle, a dad. 
For months, the two of you had been talking about having a kid. A single kid. One. Uno. But when you got to the ultrasound that day, you found out you were having two and you passed out. He had never been so scared for your health and excited for kids. When you came to, he wouldn’t stop talking about how there were two little Reids waiting to come into his life, waiting to change his life forever. 
“Baby, please climb in with me. It hurts so badly.” You said, trying to stay calm. Unlike Spencer, you were scared out of your mind. You didn’t know how to interact with kids, let alone raise them, and now you were terrified that you were going to fuck them up from birth. 
Spencer climbed in the hospital bed, although half of him was barely on it. It was so small for 4 people to lay in. Four people, thought Spencer. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him. 
“In a couple hours, we’re going to be parents…” He said, almost to himself. It was quiet in the room when you weren’t groaning in pain from a contraction. He put on classical music on his phone and put it next to your stomach. 
“Spencer if you don’t turn that shit off, I will kick you out of the room and deliver these demons on my own.” You threatened him. Classical music always made them move around and the last thing you wanted was for the little ones to move anywhere. 
“Okay, sorry.” He grinned, kissing the top of your head. You fell into another silence, interrupted by screaming. 
“Go. Get. The. Nurse.” You said through gritted teeth. Spencer slid his arm from behind you and almost ran into the door with excitement. It was finally time to get these babies out into the world, literally. 
Spencer was supportive through the whole process. Hours of pushing and a scare later, you had two beautiful girls. The genders were a surprise until this moment, when you held the second born in your arms. She almost didn’t make it due to a complication but the doctors were amazing at figuring it out. 
“Oh my god…” Spencer said, holding his older daughter in his arms. “Baby, you did it…” He whispered. He was so scared of waking them up that he refused to speak louder than a whisper. As the two of you laid in the hospital bed together, holding your daughters, you couldn’t help but get choked up. 
“Spence… What did we do?” You said, a mix of emotions finally showing themselves. You didn’t know what you were feeling but you knew it was a mix of things rushing at you all at once, not all of them good. 
The nurse came in exactly when Spencer was about to answer. She came to get the girls so they could be placed with the rest of the babies for a little while. He was disappointed but excited because that meant he could show the team his daughters as they slept in their small beds. 
“We created a miracle.” He said, taking you in his arms. He was so happy that the pregnancy stage was over. You were much nicer when you weren’t in extreme amounts of pain. But he was really glad it was over because he missed being close to you. When you were carrying the girls, you seemed so far away. Now, he could hold you close like before. 
“What if I fuck them up? What if I passed something down? What if…” You trailed off, not able to look at him. 
“Hmm?” He said, curious about what you had to say next. He had something prepared already but he waited for you to finish first. 
“What if I’m bad at this? I know you’ll be an amazing dad but… What if I’m not good enough?” You finally looked up at him to see his face relaxed as if the idea didn’t phase him. Probably because it didn’t. There was something annoying but comforting in the fact that he wasn’t bothered by your worries. 
“Right now, the only way you could fail is by forgetting I’m right here with you. Who knows what kind of parents we’re going to be. My dad walked out on us. I had to take care of my mom, even now. Your parents fell out of love with each other and you suffered because of it. We weren’t led by prime examples in our lives so our parental compass isn’t great. But we know what not to do. We know the effects of negative reinforcement and we have the chance to make things right by taking it one step at a time. So that’s what we’re going to do. Take it one day at a time.” He said, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Okay.” Was all you could say before he brought you in for a sweet kiss. 
“Hey y/n?” He said, an eager look on his face. “Can I show the team the girls?” 
“Only if someone stays with me while you’re gone. I like Penelope. She’s adorable and I think she loves me.” You said, watching Spencer slow roll off the bed. You groaned because you were still sore from hurling two beautiful angels from your body. 
“I’ll go get her.” Spencer kissed you one more time, a longer kiss, before he nearly skipped out of the room. 
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Yawning, you didn’t realize how tired you really were. You closed your eyes for just a couple seconds. Penelope walked in to find you sleeping soundly so she sat in the chair next to your bed and started building a castle out of all the jello she requested from the Nurses’ Station. She also added some of your favorite show’s mini figurines. 
Meanwhile, Spencer was hugging everyone else in the waiting room. They all congratulated him, so excited that they got to see the two newest additions to his family. 
“There they are, the ones without names.” He said, pointing to the two beds pushed next to each other. The other beds had some space between them but it was like the nurses knew these two had a little bit more of a bond with each other. 
“Pretty boy has twins!” Morgan said, slapping him on the shoulder. 
Spencer had kept so much of the pregnancy a secret because everything was touch and go for a while. Once he was sure everything was permanent, he was able to tell them things. He kept this part a secret the whole time though because it seemed like a great surprise. 
“I’m proud of you, Spence,” JJ said, hugging Spencer again. She had been detrimental in keeping you and Spencer sane during this whole process.
Hotch shed a tear. An actual tear and a smile. He knew how long and hard Spencer had fought to keep his hope in love and the world alive and now, Spencer looked like he was glowing like never before. 
For the next 20 minutes, everyone was gathered in the hallway as they watched the girls sleep and turn over. The older daughter smiled in her sleep and Spencer almost broke down. When it was time to feed them, they all said goodbye to Spencer and he returned to your room. 
Walking in, the girls were already there but you were curled up and gently snoring. One of the beds was empty but when he looked at Penelope, tears were running down her face as she smiled. Out of everyone, she was the most excited about the two of you having kids.
“We were supposed to ask together but I guess I’ll have to do it alone,” Spencer said, picking up the younger born. The way he could tell them apart was a little black freckle that the younger one had on her left cheek while the older daughter had it on her nose, like a piercing. 
“Are you about to ask me to be the godmother? Because I will start sobbing.” Penelope said. Her eyes twinkled with more than tears. 
“I was but if you’re going to cry then I’ll wait until a more appropriate time than when you’re holding the second light of my life.” He said, looking down at his daughter. 
“Yes, yes, yes.” She said, smiling. “Who’s my baby daddy?” She said, just curious about the godfather. 
“Morgan.” Spencer said, his daughter’s tiny hand grabbing onto his finger. He was open and closing her tiny hand because he was just fascinated and she grabbed on and wouldn’t let go. Slowly she opened her eyes and he smiled at her. 
“Oh so my baby daddy is my babies’ daddy.” Penelope said, in a complete joke. 
“Penelope, meet Alexandria Maeve Reid.” You said, barely opening your eyes. 
Spencer’s breath hitched in his throat. “What?” He was barely able to get out. 
You and Spencer had played around with names before but he never told you about the middle name thing. Fresh tears came to his eyes at the thought of it. 
“And Spencer has Chloe Gideon Reid.” You were more exhausted than ever. “I thought about it and Spencer left the options up to me so I just went with it. I hope that’s okay, baby.” 
You barely had the strength to stay awake any longer so you went back to sleep as soon as Spencer climbed into bed with you, Chloe in his arms. 
“Hi Chloe…” He said. Almost on queue, she opened her eyes and stared at him with a little smile spreading on her face before she closed her eyes again. He looked over at Alexandria, who was opening and closing her hands. “Hi baby Alexandria…” He whispered. 
__________
Dad!Spencer makes me so angry at CM bc he would be the best dad. 
Tags: 
@winchestertardis
@ancailinaerach
391 notes · View notes
waterrunstogether · 3 years
Text
Rites of Passage in the Fifth World
Tumblr media
I’ve been thinking lately about the absence of real rites of passage in modern “western culture”. A rite of passage is a sort of ritualized event (that may or may not be endorsed/organized by a community) in which a person is believed to exit from one stage of life and enter the next, usually from childhood to adulthood. Other than the humiliation of high school proms/frat hazing, or getting your driver’s license, or turning 21 and getting shitfaced, my culture in the United States has little to offer in the way of true rites of passage. 
The result is a population of confused, somewhat disillusioned children driving around and going to work or university and pretending to be adults while hopelessly stuck in the liminal space between youth and adulthood.
Tumblr media
~ 20 year old me pretending to know what’s going on ~
I have thought about quinceañeras and baptisms, religious rites of passage commonly practiced still, but considering the traumatic experience that my parents’ organized religion was for me, I don’t believe now that my baptism was a helpful event facilitating my transition into maturity. I think it was a blindingly painful event whose toxicity I needed to overcome in what I now believe was the true rite of passage. 
I first dropped acid when I was traveling in Bulgaria. My partner was in her hometown across the country and I was visiting Plovdiv with a friend. We had just finished traveling the world, or at least Eurasia, meeting new faces and trying new things and taking wild risks in Thailand and Turkey and India and Malaysia, to name a few. I had also just escaped the cult I was born and raised in which had hammered into me from birth that my sexual and romantic orientation was an abomination, as a woman I was to obey men, God loved me and wanted me to fear him (that is to say, love = fear), the leaders of the church were to be obeyed and respected all the time (even if they were obviously wrong) and so on and so forth. It was an insane transition between being trapped in these religious handcuffs and learning that I could break free all along. In fact, I carried so much self hatred and internalized homophobia with me into my supposed new life that I didn’t know what to do with myself. Despite being outwardly happier than I had ever been before with a wonderful partner and community who truly loved and supported me for who I was, inwardly I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown due to all of the conflicting thoughts and beliefs I was carrying and creating within myself.
Tumblr media
The experience of that first trip was an interesting one. Every step of the way my body seemed to pull me towards the letting go of all of the toxicity that was so thick and had built up like plaque in the arteries of my energetic being--yet, I remained me throughout the trip, at the end feeling somewhat empowered but not yet finished with the transformation.
A few months later I took psilocybin, AKA magic mushrooms, with my little brother on a rainy Summer day in D.C. The whole come up of the trip was talking to trees and observing the movements of leaves, running my fingers over the moss growing on the exposed, knotty roots of tree in front of our house. But at the end of the trip, something changed. Once again my body requested, begged me, to let go of the still-prevalent toxicity inside of me. My health was in rough shape, mentally and physically, and my body knew the culprit. But once more I felt I couldn’t let go just yet, it would be too much for me, I wasn’t ready. So I spent the entire come down and then some, maybe four hours, weeping uncontrollably on the basement floor.
Tumblr media
The second time I dropped acid was yesterday, with my partner, here in Berlin. It changed everything.
During the come up I was taken aback by how strong the effect it had on me was. My partner, bless her heart, had taken a larger dose than me, yet felt no effect the entire time. Her tolerance has always been naturally higher than mine for every kind of intoxicating substance, and LSD was no exception. 
As time went on I came to realize that her high tolerance was incredibly fortunate for me and my trip. The initial come up was amusing, as flashes of white light began to fill up my eyes, closed and open; but very quickly I began to get paranoid, strange little thoughts about being set up and targeted running through my mind as my sense of self slowly began to dissipate, just nonsense that the ego conjures up to protect itself. But my partner’s calming reassurances that she loved me and that I was safe effectively calmed me down.
Once I began to enjoy the ride up, holding a half of a pomegranate and appreciating its beauty, touching a slice of orange and loving how soft it felt in my hands, admiring the fractals of color creating all kinds of geometric shapes on the walls and snow outside the window, I became comfortable with my loss of identity. At some point I realized that I didn’t even know my name, and I didn’t care, because it was irrelevant. All that was relevant was experience. 
Imagine experiencing and interacting with the world around you without the barrier of the thing that we are so used to that it’s difficult to think of it as a barrier at all: your concept of self. Ideas about names and races and gender and desire and anger and malice and hatred just made absolutely no sense whatsoever. In this state, all that made sense was goodness and beauty and love. All that I understood was harmony and mutually beneficial behavior. My preconceived notions about who I was and what that meant were being shattered and shredded before my very eyes, exposed for what they were: nonsense.
Once I plateaued and began to slowly come down after about four or five hours I was able to contemplate what these things meant, what they would mean for me going forward. I went into the bathroom around hour 7 and decided that it was time to look into the mirror.
Many people will tell you not to look into the mirror during an acid trip, that it’ll give you the dreaded “bad trip” and you’ll have a shit time. I completely disagree. If you are like me and need to come to terms with yourself through the wonderful, horrific, beautiful, terrifying experience that is an “ego death”, I’m afraid that you’ll have no choice but to look into the mirror at some point. 
So, I stared myself down in the mirror and admitted what I couldn’t admit for so long, due to being taught that I was essentially evil since the day I was born. I’d called myself a sinner, wicked, worthless, ugly, an abomination and just about every other mean word in the evangelical dictionary. But as I stood there looking at my body in the mirror, egoless and impartial, I said, “You have done and thought some cruel things to yourself for some time now. But you know what? You are a kind person. You are a wonderful person. You treat people with respect and love, you treat everyone you’ve ever met with so much empathy, so much caring. You love the truth, you love to be generous, you love to be a good friend. You must begin to treat yourself the same way. I know you’ve had so much hatred in your heart contaminating your energy for so long, but that is enough. That is enough. No more. I am a kind person. I am a kind person. I love you. Remember that night so long ago? Beneath the stars, where they submerged you in the baptismal water and tried to destroy you, saying these sacred waters would wash all your sins away, along with your fragile, meaningless identity? Well, they simply added more to your ego, a darker side. You built up so much negativity for so long. Well, look at you now. Your identity, all of the ideas and concepts that you’ve built up around who you really are to protect you from the hurt of Life, it’s all gone. Now you’re going to baptize yourself again. You’ll be truly reborn, this time dedicated not to destroying yourself for the sake of a religion, but dedicated to renewing and becoming and becoming and becoming.” As I looking into the mirror my silhouette became filled in with the velvet black of the night sky, full of bright stars.
I turned on the water and was baptized once again, by my own hands.
When I returned to the room I felt happier than I had ever felt in my life, light as air, free. I told several people about how much I love them and described my love for them in detail, not as this thing that’s an extension of my own ego, but my love for them was a little bit of energy that I had the honor of holding in me, in this body, and sharing between us for a time, for the wonderful events that we call our lives. I could actually see love. I understood that I was not all of the concepts I’ve built around myself, but an expression of energy in this space and time, connected to every other expression of energy in all of history, from the beginning and until the end. My matter, my body, was simply a vehicle for the energy, and would be recycled into new vehicles after I die. My energy would be transferred into new vehicles as well. That’s what we perceive as death: just a simple transfer of energy and recycling of matter. My ego would not live on, thankfully. My consciousness as conflated with ego would cease to exist with me. But the underlying animating force behind all things in the universe, the true source of consciousness, would never be destroyed or created, simply recycled again and again and again and again. Becoming and becoming and becoming and becoming.
Tumblr media
The hilarious and bizarre world of reality is hilarious and bizarre. It’s so beautiful and mystical and wonderful and honestly, nothing I write here could ever explain how I experienced being alive in that sixteen hour trip. Words don’t convey it, words can’t convey it. Reality is visceral, experiential, impartial and impossible to quantify in something as crude as human language. 
All I know is that, today, I am a fundamentally changed person. I’d feared ego death for so long, feared that it would be too much, too painful. And it was so, so painful--but it was so worth it. I am happy and proud to exist, grateful for everything I have accomplished and can accomplish in this miraculous, tiny little vessel during this ephemeral event that is my life. I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow if tomorrow exists, and unleash all of my love on everyone who��ll have it. Love is the energy that unites us with our own bodies and the entire world around us. How lucky and strange it is to be anything at all.
May you have a peaceful day. The universe smiles upon you.
17 notes · View notes
Text
Whumptober No.20
“Ow! Are you fucking kidding me?!”
Rios hissed through clenched teeth, staring at his shoulder in disbelief. An arrow was protruding from it, its head deeply buried in his flesh.
“Cris!”
Agnes dropped to one knee beside him, blue eyes anxious.
“Stay down!”
That was Elnor, his phaser spitting fire at the handful of natives they definitely shouldn’t have underestimated. More arrows clattered against the pile of boulders they were sheltering behind.
“Ow, dios, fucking hell!”
Rios was writhing on the ground like one of those idiots in an old cowboy movie, too stupid to take cover when the shit hit the fan.
“Don’t move! Stay still! Cris!”
Agnes had her hands on his chest and hip, trying to keep him from rolling. She looked afraid but determined in that shaky, fierce way she had when things went out of control. And keeping still was probably a good idea when you had an arrow stuck in you, so Rios made an effort at complying, hissing another curse to channel his pain and fury.
This was not how a first contact was supposed to go down.
“That’s it. Hold still.”
Rios rolled his head as much as the pain allowed to see what Agnes was doing. She took one look, then ripped his shirt open around the arrow shaft and inspected what they were dealing with. A little nauseous, Cris saw the arrow sticking out of his skin below his collarbone, shuddering with each breath he took, blood oozing up around the shaft and smearing his chest.
“Shit.”
Agnes tore her bandana from her neck and pressed it down around the wound. Rios bit back a scream.
“Picard!” She shouted into her comm badge. “We’re under attack! The captain’s been hit! Beam us up immediately!”
The reply was quick and disheartening: “Negative. Their defense system is blocking our transporter signal. I can’t get a lock.”
Oh, come on! They were shooting arrows, but their technology outsmarted La Sirena’s?!
Cris groaned.
Over Agnes’ shoulder, he saw Elnor rise cautiously and sweep the sight of his phaser across the landscape. But he’d stopped shooting, and the shower of arrows had ceased.
“Cris is hurt,” he heard Agnes shout urgently. “He needs medical assistance, and he needs it now!”
“I’m sorry, doctor Jurati,” the Emergency Engineering Hologram’s voice responded in Picard’s stead. “We’re tryna find a work-around, but I dinna ken how long that’ll take.”
“And Emil?” Agnes sounded anxious. “Can you send him down at least?”
“Negative.” That was the clean British accent of the EMH. “Holographic patterns are blocked as well. I will have to assist you from here. At least the bioscanners are working. Captain Rios’ vitals are indicating a traumatic injury including blood loss. What exactly is the nature of his medical emergency?”
Agnes groaned, tipping her head back to close her eyes for a second of endless frustration. Rios fought down a surge of fear. They were stranded, he was wounded with no help available, and if Agnes fell apart now…
But she didn’t. Rios saw her pull herself together. She took a deep breath, murmured a quick “okay”, and when she opened her eyes again, they were filled with new determination.
“He has an arrow stuck in his left shoulder, below his collarbone, close to the joint,” she reported. “There’s bleeding, but it doesn’t look arterial.”
“Copy that,” Emil’s voice came back. “Your observations concur with my readings. Do you see an exit wound?”
The bastard sounded intrigued.
Agnes touched Rios’ face. “Can you roll a little? I need to check your back.”
Cris nodded back and did as told. Gingerly, he shifted his body weight to his right side and lifted his left to turn on his side.
Ow. Ow. Ow.
He felt Agnes slide her hand behind his back and run it across his shoulder blade.
“Okay. It didn’t go through.” She exhaled. “No exit wound.”
Gently, she helped him back into his flat position.
“Meaning the head’s embedded inside,” said a matter-of-fact voice. “It will be all the more difficult to get it out.”
Elnor had joined them, apparently finished with their attackers. Judging by his usual efficiency, they were all lying stunned in the grass, out for the next hour or so. He’d had orders from Picard not to shoot to kill, and he mostly took orders seriously.
“Thanks for your candor,” Cris gritted out. “As usual, it’s very refreshing.”
The Romulan squatted down beside him, unperturbed, but he rested one hand on Rios’ arm in a comforting gesture. His honesty had nothing to do with unkindness.
“We’re not taking the arrow out here, Elnor,” Agnes informed them both. “We’ll leave that to Emil once we have Cris back on board.”
“Good idea,” Rios rasped. Agnes was still pressing the bandana down on his wound, and every time her fingers only so much as brushed against the arrow shaft, pain flared up sickeningly, burrowing along a fiery path through his shoulder. He couldn’t even imagine the agony of pulling the damn thing out without anesthesia.
“I’m afraid we can’t wait that long,” the EMH chimed in. “The scans tell me that Captain Rios’ system is being compromised by a class B biotoxin. I assume the arrowhead was coated with it.”
Chesumadre.
At least it explained the curious pins-and-needles feeling that had sprung up in Cris’ hands and feet. Unless that was related to shock, and Cris was pretty sure that shock was an item on the getting-shot-by-an-arrow checklist.
He craned his neck to look at Agnes. She looked… spooked.
“What’s a… class B biotoxin?” Elnor asked, sounding both curious and worried.
“It’s a type of poisonous agent that affects the central nervous system,” she explained, reverting to professionalism while Cris could see the worry in her eyes. “It paralyzes the muscles. Type B means it’s slower-acting, which is good, because it gives us a little time, otherwise…”
She put one hand against Cris’ neck, feeling his pulse, and bent lower to check his eyes.
“Do you feel any symptoms? Any numbness or weakness?”
Cris swallowed. “I have pins and needles in my hands and feet.”
Admittedly, the pain and the fear were slowly getting to him. He was used to the EMH materializing by his side in any case of emergency, wielding his tricorder and hyposprays and generally getting on his nerves while fixing him up. He was also used to stoically waving the hologram away and dealing with minor injuries on his own. But this wasn’t minor, and he could feel it.
Agnes’ cheeks flushed with worry.
“Can you squeeze my hand?”
She’d placed hers into his right, good one. Rios closed his fingers around hers and squeezed, but his grip felt odd, tingly, and from the way Agnes’ forehead creased he could tell something was wrong.
“Weakness in his right hand,” she spoke loudly into her comm unit. “I can’t check his left because of the injury.”
“Noted.” There was a moment of silence before the EMH spoke again, his voice sounding uncommonly grave. “Doctor Jurati, you have to remove the arrow, and you have to do it quickly.”
Oh fuck.
To Rios’ surprise, Agnes nodded without hesitation. She looked shaken, but like someone who had seen this coming. Her hand still held Cris’, and it was dry and warm.
“Affirmative,” she said. “How do I do it?”
“There is a small med kit in your backpack,” the EMH replied.
Elnor grabbed the backpack that she’d shucked off during the attack and pulled a silver case out from its bottom.
“I have it!”
“Open it,” Emil instructed. “It should hold disinfectant, bandages, a laser scalpel, a dermal regenerator and a hypospray with several loading vials.”
While Rios watched Agnes rifle through the kit, her lips moving as she read the medication labels to herself, he noticed a certain detachment overcoming him. Pain was still fanning out across his shoulder, reaching into his back and chest, but he somehow seemed to care less. The tingling sensation was creeping up his arms and legs. Was this shock or the poison?
“Agnes,” he rasped. “I… I feel strange.”
She stopped rummaging and stared at him. Her eyes were intense.
“What do you mean, ‘strange’?”
“I don’t… numb. Weird.”
It was true. His body felt heavy, and the tingling sensation had reached his stomach and neck. His thoughts as well felt… shrouded.
Agnes tore her eyes away from him and looked up, into the sky. “Emil? Did you hear this?”
“I did. We need to hurry, Doctor Jurati.”
Rios listened with increasing difficulty as the EMH listed instructions. Something about cutting wide enough to evacuate the arrowhead in one piece and about using the dermal regenerator to help get the bleeding under control. Something else about not cutting the axillary artery and staying clear of the radial nerve. Sadly, he didn’t catch anything about anesthetics, and he felt too sluggish to ask.
Agnes’ face reappeared in his line of vision. She brushed her blond curls out of her face and gave him a shaky smile.
“Okay, Cris. I’m going to be as quick as I can, but it’s going to hurt. Elnor will help you keep still.”
She blinked, blue eyes braver than anyone could have guessed she could be, and he met her gaze in silent trust. Elnor’s face hovered into view next to hers as he got into position, giving Cris a firm, wordless nod.
The EMH’s voice returned: “Ready, doctor Jurati?”
“Ready.”
Agnes pressed a hypospray to his neck that made him feel lightheaded. Elnor’s arms came down across his chest and hips, and Cris saw white-blue light flash as Agnes lifted the laser scalpel. Then the pain came. It bit into him, the smell of blood mixing with that of cauterized flesh, and he gasped. But the pain didn’t let up, and Agnes didn’t stop. He felt the laser cutting deep into his shoulder, relentless, and Cris arched his head back and released a scream. Elnor held him down, murmuring strings of Romulan - prayers? And Cris screamed, and Agnes cut, and the disembodied voice of the EMH drifted from the sky, and then Cris thought he would lose his mind as Agnes grabbed the arrow tight and pulled it up, pulled it through muscle and tissue and skin with a sick, slurping sound, and then, gracias a dios- darkness.
The pain wasn’t gone when he came to, an indefinite amount of lost time later, on La Sirena’s transporter pad, cradled in Elnor’s and Agnes’ arms, but the EMH was already bearing down on him with a hypospray. A hiss. A cool sensation, and then the pain ebbed away, and so did his fear at seeing his own chest splattered with blood and smeared all over Agnes. Cris heard voices, saw faces, but he couldn’t move, didn’t want to move. He only wanted to know if it was over and if he could go to sleep without worrying if he would ever wake up again.
He felt himself being lifted onto something soft, and, on his back, stared at the ceiling of the transporter room, then at Agnes leaning over him as they moved.
Her cheeks were wet, but she was smiling as she placed her hand on his forehead.
“It’s over. You’re okay.”
Cris closed his eyes and went to sleep.
20 notes · View notes
irisrecs · 4 years
Text
buzzfeed unsolved fanfiction recommendations
This is all Ryan/Shane— so don’t like, don’t read.
PSA: I am not in any way stating that Ryan and Shane from Buzzfeed Unsolved and Watcher are together, or that I want them to be together; this is for entertainment use only. I urge you to not contact them or @ them on twitter or instagram making comments about their relationship, as they are humans just like the rest of us. Some things are none of our business!
This is a masterlist of my favourite fanfictions in this fandom! Thanks to @gigaledom for cheering me on. Never thought I was going to do more RPF, but here I am.
Under 10k
and i’m puffing my chest, getting red in the face by pissedofsandwich- 6k, Teen
Summary: "Zack's going to be there?" Shane asks, masking his... whatever it is he's feeling in his chest, with nonchalance.
Ryan blinks. "Yes?"
Well, never mind dancing with the fucking sun. He’s Icarus, wings melted and falling face-first into the asphalt.
Or: Shane is definitely not at all jealous of how close Zack and Ryan are getting during the making of Sports Conspiracies. Except that he is.
My notes: They’re both so jealous of each other and so bad at communication. Thank goodness they have their friends to help them out! Really funny and entertaining!
lay your demons at the door by abovetheruins— 7k, Teen and Up
Summary: Ryan had been so careful. For months he had learned to train his face into a semblance of normalcy every time a spirit got too close or he was overwhelmed with some indiscernible emotion on location. He had learned to channel his fear into something more manageable, something entertaining enough for the cameras but not so severe that anyone would be able to tell he wasn’t just jumping at shadows or groaning floorboards anymore.
Shane wasn’t supposed to find out. He wasn't supposed to know.
My Notes: The Seer!Ryan AU that I wasn’t expecting to like so much. A lot of pining and caring! Shane with a lovely ending!
First Impressions by luxbuhree— 9k, Mature
Summary: The chance to work with and sit next to THE Shane Madej was one of the things Ryan was looking forward to, now that he's starting his first day in BuzzFeed. But while he was expecting a charming and friendly guy, he was instead met with someone who couldn't care any less.
Will the case of why Shane hates Ryan remain unsolved?
My notes: In which Shane is really bad at feelings and Ryan has the hots for a certain person who pins him against walls. Awesome ending.
a short history of almost something by cooliohoolio— 6k, No Warnings
Summary: "I think I'll wait another year."
Shane's in love with Ryan, and will get around to telling him. One of these days.
My notes: A lovely short high school! AU with mutual pining. They’re best friends ahhh
only happy accidents by barnes— 8k, Explicit
Summary: In hindsight, Shane is too old to have thought that friends with benefits was something that the two of them would be able to pull off. He’s had friends with benefits before that worked beautifully, but they were not with people whose jobs were tied up in his own, whose friendships were as closely interwoven into Shane’s everyday life as Ryan’s is. He’d thought these were the very things that could keep it from getting weird, because they were such good buddies, Ryan would be solidly cemented as his pal that nothing could shift him.
This was a miscalculation, on Shane’s part.
My Notes: I’m not usually a fan of friends with benefits to lovers, but this had so much mutual pining and fluff that I enjoyed it so much! A must-read.
Gurl, Imma Marry You (ryan is a mess) by orphan_account— 2k, General Audiences
Summary: Ryan is perpetually doing dumb things. Starting a ghost show? Dumb. Going to demon houses? Dumb. Talking to ghosts? Dumb.
But those are all new dumb things. Ryan's known he wants to marry Shane forever. That is an incredibly old dumb thing.
My notes: Really cute and fluffy and I love it so much. It’s a kind of read-to-make-yourself-feel-better kind of fic!
Por Favor, Sweetheart by carrieonfighting— 8k, Teen and Up
Summary: Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late
Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks
My notes: Normally not a raising-a-child-fic person, but holy smokes this was written so well and the fluff! the domesticity i-
Pushing All Your Buttons by beethechange— 9k, Explicit
Summary: Ryan and Shane get stuck in an elevator at Buzzfeed HQ. There is tension. They relieve the tension. That’s it, that’s the fic.
My notes: I was literally able to see the tension floating off my laptop in front of my face, it was so palpable.
Under 20k
like you want to be loved by poetdameron— 16k, Teen and Up
Summary: "Settle down with me", Shane says without thinking and as Ryan looks at him with wide open eyes, all he can think of it's how many of Ryan's secrets he knows, how Ryan likes his coffee, and the fact that he has loved him since the moment Ryan first looked up at him and smiled.
My notes: The PINING and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT and ANGST my god. Really well written and lovely happy ending.
ships that pass in the night by beethechange— 20k, Explicit
Summary: The more Ryan thinks about it, the more he thinks he just needs to return the favor, that’s all. And then it’ll be done, like it was meant to be done weeks ago, and they can both move on for real.
It’s not that he wants to. It’s that he won’t be able to stop thinking about it until he evens the score. He has to restore balance to the Force or order to the universe, or—or whatever. It’s a karma thing.
“I think you have to let me jerk you off,” Ryan tells Shane one night. They’re working late, alone in the Watcher office, one of many such late nights these days.
“Wh—here?” Shane asks. He looks around, baffled, like he’ll have been magically transported somewhere else. “Have to?” And then: “Let you?”
My notes: haha what if I dare you to jerk me off dude haha don’t be a chicken
Do you not know how love works? by leylines— 12k, No Rating
Summary: “Fuck you, man,” Ryan growled, rubbing his tailbone where he landed on when he fell down just moments ago.
“I’m pretty sure that’s what Devon already thinks we’re doing,” Shane said cheerfully, not at all sounding bothered by the thought.
“Oh shut up, dude.”
My notes: One of my favourite things in this cold, dark universe is when two characters are dating but they don’t know it but everyone else does. This is so hilarious and warms my dead heart
Full-Court Press by beethechange— 12k, Explicit
Summary: To be clear, these are not tactics Ryan would recommend. Being an athleisure-obsessed pervert, and lying, and clothes-sabotage: these are not things he’s proud of.
But they have undeniably worked.
Shane’s standing next to him in the hotel lobby while Devon checks them all out of their rooms, and he's wearing a sleeveless purple Lakers jersey and the world’s softest, clingiest sweatpants. It’s so exactly as Ryan pictured it, so precisely in line with his fantasies, that he has to pinch himself.
My notes: Really hot and funny and p i n i n g
may your days be merry and bright by bodhirookes— 19k, General Audiences
Summary: “Your turn, Ry Ry.”
Ryan looks down to find only one piece of paper remaining. “Wow, so much selection to choose from.”
“No time for your negativity, Scrooge. Your Secret Santa deserves a better attitude.”
Ryan sticks his tongue out, but takes the slip of paper. He’s loudly yelling Give me Jen, please please please give me Jen as he unfolds it, but he’s too busy begging for her to be truly prepared for what he ends up getting:
A simple but damning SHANE in Andrew’s scribbly handwriting.
Or, Ryan gets Shane for Secret Santa and has a subsequent breakdown about what to get him
Notes: This is so sweet and cute and I would die for both of them. A lovely classic christmas fic!
want you in my room by beethechange— 13k, Explicit
Summary: As they watch, Tall Guy takes his beanie off, revealing a mess of thick, shiny brown hair. He runs his hand through it to shake out the hat hair and Ryan feels like he’s stuck in an Herbal Essences commercial, except he’s the one making inappropriate lustful noises.
Ryan adjusts his snapback, determined. He is, after all, wearing his very finest basketball shorts, without even a single hole at the hem, and the knowledge puts an extra spring in his step.
“I’m gonna climb that dude like a tree,” he tells Curly.
My notes: Just really dumb, cute pining in a wonderful frat boy/nerd college AU!
Long boys
Muscles Better and Nerves More by beethechange— 26k, Explicit
Summary: “I’m serious,” Ryan says. “Don’t go fucking up my body. I want that shit back in the same condition I left it.”
“The same condition—Ryan. I’m not spending hours in a gym every day so you don’t lose muscle mass.”
“I want you to treat my body with the respect you would a national park. Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but memories.”
***
A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way.
My notes: This is so sexy and in character! A freaky friday kinda scenario where they only switch back when they pull their figurative heads out of their asses. So wonderful.
Dreams to be daring for by allonsy_gabriel— 24k, General Audiences
Summary: On May 11, 2018, Eleanora Rose Austin was born in Chicago, Illinois.
On May 20, 2018, Shane Alexander Madej agreed to act as the godfather to his best friend from college's daughter.
On October 26, 2018, Olivia and Michael Austin were victims of a mugging gone sideways.
On October 29, 2018, Shane Madej found himself in the possession of one real, actual, human child.
My notes: Accidental Baby Acquisition is now my favourite trope because of this fic. The fact that they’re already acting like a couple with the baby before they actually become one is sooo beautiful,,, give it a read im begging you
Fifty Shades of Gold by beethechange— 21k, Explicit
Summary: Shane tires of doing the same bits over and over. He tires of telling the same stories until they all, him and Ryan and the fans, have every beat memorized. Whenever Ryan pulls out his Ricky Goldsworth impression, ah yes, that old chestnut, Shane plays along only begrudgingly. He’s bored.
That’s his official position: he’s over Ricky Goldsworth.
Shane’s unofficial position, regrettably, is that he’d rather be under Ricky Goldsworth.
My notes: Shane’s got the hots for Ricky Goldsworth and that’s the TEA. Lots of sexual tension and cute and unsure! Ryan!
Precious metals by StrikerEureka— 73k, Mature
Summary: Ryan and Shane have been moving around something that is coming to a head between them. After a car accident, on the way to an investigation, Ryan slowly starts to become suspicious that Shane might not be what he seems. He realizes, though, that he just might not care.
Shane sits forward suddenly. “Hey, pull over up here.”
Ryan follows the instruction without questioning it, which probably says something about either his willingness to listen to Shane or his sanity. Maybe both; they go hand in hand. He puts on his blinker, even though they haven’t seen another car in a couple of minutes, and pulls off onto the shoulder.
“Are you gonna puke or something?” he asks, putting the car into park, as Shane takes off his seatbelt with one hand and tugs off his Ray Bans with the other.
“You better hope not,” he murmurs as he leans over the center console and kisses Ryan solidly on the mouth.
My notes: My favourite Demon!Shane AU ever! Really sweet and loads of tension and pining... must-read.
darling it’s a faded notion by varnes— 28k, Explicit
Summary: The sun is too bright and Ryan’s whole body is alight with something that is eating him all the way up from the inside out, but he keeps his eyes open and he makes himself look, and he tells himself that once he finds Shane, he’ll think about it. Once he finds Shane, they’ll make a plan. Once he finds Shane, and only then, he’ll let himself have the thought he’s been swallowing down like bile since he came to: that they didn’t fall.
They were pushed.
OR: Ryan and Shane get cursed by a ghost, and now they can't be not-touching. It's ... not great.
My notes: They get cursed and have to be touching all the time!! and they’re pining so hard y’all like what more could one want
Bed-warm Hands and the Ghost of Elvis by MiraclesofPaul— 21k, Teen and Up
Summary: They get used to sharing a bed while filming the show. Ryan's just trying not to let his feelings get in the way.
So Ryan tells himself he’s going to ride out whatever it is they’ve fallen into, but he’ll bow out gracefully when the time comes. He can just enjoy the now.
My notes: They share a bed!!! And their hearts!! so much lack of communication, it’s wonderful
Hope that someone will enjoy these fics that I did so very much! If you want more buzzfeed unsolved fics let me know because i’ve read sooo much fanfiction...
—Iris
27 notes · View notes
medeafive · 3 years
Text
Blood and Stone - 19
Masterpost
"Oh, thank God."
"This stuff is really scary."
"How long was that? Five minutes?"
"Yeah, six or so."
"Definitely works very quickly."
"It's just the pulse. The other problems are-"
"Mhm."
"Oh, she's even awake."
She opens her eyes, somehow much easier than before. Rough silhouettes standing and sitting around. "I think it works," Tony's voice says. "Though we shouldn't stop the blood transfusions."
"With what blood?" Bruce asks. "This is the last one."
"Blood is really hard to get," Fury remarks. "And dangerous."
"What if we donated?" Sharon suggests. "What's her blood type?"
"She's an A+. She could only get donations from A or O, positive or negative."
"Well, I'm O-," Sharon replies. "So you could take some of me and give it to her."
"You're an universal donor?" Sam questions. "Wow, you should be donating blood all the time."
"Wait, I'll get my emergency sheet," Bruce remarks.
Pepper chuckles. "Does anyone else think it's weird that we're discussing blood donations when there's a vampire in the room?"
"I don't even know what that blood type is," James says.
"It's about antigens, who can donate to whom," Sam explains. "Maybe you could smell or taste the difference."
"Oh, don't turn this into a fucking wine tasting," Tony throws in.
"Here." Bruce flips through a folder. "Pepper is B+, so she's out. Clint is AB, also out. Right, Sharon is O-, Tony is O+, I'm A+. Fury is A-. Sam is B-, he's out."
"What about plasma," Tony suggests. "Isn't that the inverse?"
Bruce starts rubbing his temples. "Right. AB plasma can be donated to any blood type. But there's no way to get a B donor and an A recipient together."
"That's Pepper and me," Sam remarks. "We're really out. But if everyone else gives a little-"
"We should give her as little as possible," Bruce warns. "From as little people as possible. Preferably type A. I can cross-test the blood but there's always a risk- wait, she's pregnant. We can only give her O- until we know the foetus' blood type."
"Oh, great, I've always wanted to do a paternity test," Tony decides.
"Come on, he's a vampire, he doesn't have a blood type," Clint throws in.
"Well, if he can have kids, maybe that's… a lot more conventional than we think," Sam suggests.
"He's blood type O," Sharon whispers. "Or he was."
" What ," James interrupts.
"They put it on the dog tags, during WWII," Sharon explains slowly. "In case someone needed an emergency blood transfusion. The SS even had tattoos."
"How the fuck would you-"
"I wanted to show you this." She pulls out the photos. "They're not very good but- this guy. You should remember."
James jerks back as if they're scorching hot. "I don't remember anything."
"But you do, don't you," Sharon insists.
"Do you really all need to be here all the time," Natasha interjects. "It's exhausting."
"You're right," Sam agrees, getting up. "We'll let you work it out. How are you feeling, though?"
"Like shit," Natasha replies. "No surprise there."
"I'd like to take blood right now, Sharon," Bruce suggests. "If that's okay. Then I have time to test it."
"You two can stay," Natasha decides. "And James. Everyone else, out."
  Tony grins. "Oh, you sound a lot better."
"I really don't remember," James repeats.
Sharon snorts, staring up at the ceiling. "Nat, your friend is super annoying."
"I just can't-" James groans. "There's nothing there. Really."
"But that's you in the picture," Natasha argues, chewing. "Definitely."
"Maybe," James admits. "But I'm not so sure. And not so sure if it matters."
"Of course it matters," Natasha replies, reaching in the bag again. "And- I'll let Sharon break that to you."
Sharon snorts. "Oh, thank you ."
"What the fuck- how many secrets do you have," James complains.
"It's not a secret," Natasha justifies. "Just very recent."
"Well, the blonde tall guy in the picture, Steve, he's-" Sharon sighs. "He crashed with an aircraft, in 1944. You wouldn't know that. And- do you know about the ice block?"
"Yeah, I told him," Natasha confirms, putting another chocolate bean in her mouth.
"Yeah, but I didn't really care," James remarks. "The guy you're trying to revive with vampire blood, wasn't it."
"He wasn't dead ," Bruce objects.
"Yeah, and now he's really up," Sharon adds. "Except right now he's sleeping, recovering. Anyway, he's the blond guy in the picture. Steve."
"Wait, how isn't he dead?" James questions. "Now?"
"Long story," Bruce replies. "But basically, the ice stops the aging process."
"Well, good for him," James replies. "I don't see- wait, if I'm really the guy in the picture, then- then he'd know me? Shit."
"He definitely would," Sharon confirms. "That's why we're telling you."
"You can't tell him-" James looks around frantically. "Did you tell him about- vampires? Please don't tell him."
"He does know about the vampires, though I'm not sure he understands the scope of it," Sharon explains. "But nothing about you."
"You can't tell him- imagine what a shock that would be," James argues. "Finding out your best friend has turned into a- a monster, do you know how much bad- don't do that to him."
"You're not a monster," Natasha repeats. "But you seem really worked up about this."
"Come on, he's going to find out," Sharon returns. "I mean, what are we supposed to tell him who got her pregnant?"
"Speaking of, I'd like to do another ultrasound," Bruce throws in. "Monitor the growth. Sharon will be done soon."
"Will I?" Sharon asks. "Good."
"Yeah, that's enough for now," Bruce replies. "Don't get up too fast, eat and drink a lot, don't exercise, you know the drill."
"Yeah, okay," Natasha agrees. "Can't hurt."
"I'm also going to take a little blood from you to cross-match," Bruce adds. "See whether it agglutinates. Just to be safe."
"Where is that guy even," James complains. "Please tell me he's not-"
"Next door," Sharon replies. "Yup. Get over it."
"Get over it?" James repeats, horrified. "Do you really wanna do that to him, imagine him finding out- as if he hasn't already enough on his plate, and the- I really don't remember and if I really was that and now I'm- this- don't do that. Don't tell him."
"Look, I feel you," Natasha replies, chewing. "But we can't control- if he wakes up, he can just walk over at any point."
Bruce bites his lip. "Actually- I locked him in."
Sharon laughs. "Really? Didn't expect that from you, Bruce."
"This is very expensive lab equipment," Bruce justifies. "I don't want him running around, unsupervised-"
"So you could have a head start," Natasha states. "Before running into him."
"I'm not sure I'm keen on breaking that to Steve," Sharon ponders. "So maybe… I don't know. You're not getting out of this for long. And you don't need to, Steve is very understanding-"
"With all due respect," James interrupts. "You don't know that guy, except from the rosy tales of your granny, and this is not- not some minor- if I ever was that guy, I am not anymore. I'm so much worse."
"So do we do the ultrasound right now?" Natasha asks.
"No reason to wait," Bruce replies, removing the needle from Sharon's arm. "Don't get up just yet. Maybe you could- we have plenty of food here, don't we."
"Yeah, gimme that bacon sandwich," Sharon demands. "Are those M&Ms?"
"Something like it," Natasha replies, handing the bag over to James so he can give it to Sharon. "Guess I'll stop munching for a minute, for the scan."
"Yeah, just a second, let me get my… things in order," Bruce says, looking around in confusion. "God, this- everything- I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Same," Natasha remarks, licking her fingers. "Same."
"Yeah, but you- whatever." Bruce adjusts his glasses. "Yes. Ultrasound. Could you move out of the way?"
James gets up reluctantly, taking exactly one step back. "What is that even?"
"Something to look inside," Natasha explains, pushing her shirt up and her pants down below her hip bones. "That's it. Doesn't do anything else. Except it's cold and tickles."
"I guess you'll have to live with that," Bruce suggests, spreading the gel over her stomach. "Let me see…"
"Mind if I stay?" Sharon asks between bites.
"Sure, nothing secret about it," Natasha replies. "James, I think you need to step back."
James reluctantly takes another step back. "I don't like this."
"Don't you want to see?" Sharon suggests. "How it's growing?"
"No," James replies. "Not really."
"Won't take long," Natasha promises as Bruce places the transducer on her abdomen. "Right?"
"Right." Bruce shakes his head. "Really, I don't really know what to look for. I just want to take a picture to document the growth, for when Bobbi arrives."
"Sounds like a good idea," Natasha replies. "I should stop talking, shouldn't I?"
"Would be helpful if you moved less," Bruce mutters. "Oh, there. Now let's see..."
Sharon sits up to peer at the screen. "Oh my. That's really quite grown already."
"Sharon, could you hold the transducer?" Bruce asks, trying to flip a book open with one hand. "I have to…"
"Sure." Sharon gets up and slips past James, smiling at Natasha. Bruce pushes his sleeves up and leans over the book. "Yeah, okay. Okay. Move it a little, without taking it off."
Sharon lets the transducer glide over the gel. "Wow, I think it's really gotten bigger already," Bruce whispers. "Looks more like the picture at 20 weeks than at 16 weeks."
Natasha gulps, which James notices. "Honestly… are you sure that's a baby?"
Sharon snorts loudly. "Oh wow. You're going to be a horrible father."
"Definitely a fetus," Bruce replies, staring at the screen. "Move it a little, again. Mhm. I can't really see anything that looks… not human."
Natasha bites her lip. "Is it a boy or a girl?" Sharon asks.
Bruce snorts softly. "Don't nail me down on this, but… I think it's not a boy. I think we'd see that."
"Wait, it just-" Sharon also stares at the screen. "I think it's sucking on its thumb."
"Let's just take the pictures and then we're done," Bruce suggests. "Then Natasha can go back to sleep."
  She's not as exhausted as before but still very tired, and so she is out very quickly and sleeps for what feels like forever. A shutting door wakes her up. "Wow, you look like shit."
She pries her eyes open. James, at her bedside, turns. "Yeah, you," Clint adds. "You know, you always look dead but now you look like it was painful, too."
James bares his fangs. "What do you want?"
"Get some sleep," Clint demands. "You're not helping here. Yeah, yeah, I'll look after her."
James clearly doesn't like the idea, still the threatening fangs. "It's fine," Natasha mutters, eyes half-closed. "I'll just sleep anyway."
James' hand, now warm, comes to her cheek. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, sure," she whispers. "Just come back later, rested."
He lets go reluctantly. "Okay. I won't be away long."
She's got the feeling he will. Who knows how long he hasn't slept. "You can have my bed."
It looks like he doesn't want to kiss her, in front of Clint, so he touches her cheek again. "Okay. Take care. Sleep well."
Clint rolls his eyes as James passes him, moving slowly for his standards. Natasha sighs, closing her eyes, rolling onto her back. A chair screeches over the concrete floor. The door closes. Natasha snorts. "Are you going to give me the silent treatment again?"
"You're really insane," Clint says. "You know that?"
"Yeah, so what?" Natasha returns. "What about it? Weren't you the one who said go for it?"
"I said carefully ," Clint replies. "And don't fuck it up. But you clearly fucked it up, so…"
"This is fucking it up?" Natasha cuts in.
"Yep." The chair screeches again. "Or did you want this?"
"Oh, come the fuck on."
"He definitely didn't," Clint remarks. "Still doesn't. So you know what that means."
"I'm making him?" Natasha opens her eyes. "Is that what you're saying?"
"He's really not father material," Clint states. "You know that. You can't make him into something that he's not. He'll try but it won't change a thing."
"You know all about fathers, don't you," Natasha shoots back venomously.
"Fuck off," Clint returns calmly. "And you're not better. You're good at killing vampires, you're not a mother ."
"And I can't be both?" Natasha questions.
"You're insane, you're vicious, you're a killer," Clint states. "That's good for a hunter but impossible for a mother. And I guess you think you need to be kind and caring and soft, for some reason, but you just aren't."
"I was, though," Natasha whispers. "I really was. Before."
"That's not you anymore," Clint replies. "That's just how it is, I'm sorry. And you always had it in you. Don't try to be something that you're not, just because you think that's what you need to be happy. You'll fail and then it'll be worse."
"You don't know who I am," Natasha returns. "What I am. What I can be."
"Kinda do," Clint contends. "And then there's the fact that you'll definitely die from this."
Natasha snorts. "Oh yeah. You totally know that as well."
"I really don't know who you're doing this for," Clint remarks. "Seems like you just have to prove something to yourself. And die doing it."
"Look, none of us know what will happen," Natasha reminds him. "Don't pretend you do. You don't know shit."
"Please." Clint folds his hands. "Just tell me I'm wrong."
"Of course you're wrong!" Natasha throws back. "This is not about proving anything."
Clint snorts, kneading his fingers. "Oh, Tasha, you can't lie to me."
"The fuck do you even want," she spits out. "You don't get it, so just leave me alone."
"If you wanna be with him, I get that," Clint states. "I don't like it but I get it. No reason to make little monster babies, though."
"You're just jealous, aren't you," she hisses. "You wanted to have kids with Bobbi and she didn't. And now you can't bear seeing me have one."
Clint grins coldly, leaning forward. Looks very ugly. "Whatever Bobbi and I were, before I fucked up… trust me, you and him are not that. And you will never come even close."
"Yeah, maybe that's good," Natasha remarks sourly. "Given how you turned out."
"You don't even know him," Clint remarks. "You met him, what, two months ago? Three? The couple of nights you snuck out? That's nothing."
"For the last fucking time, it's not about him," Natasha returns. "It's about what I want. If you even care about that."
"Not fair," Clint remarks, getting up from the turned chair. "Fine, I'll go. Just… this job, it changes you. Everyone. Hardens you. And that's okay. It's okay if you lost your nurturing side, if you ever had one. Just don't pretend it's still there."
  "I know he's going to disappoint me," Natasha whispers. "I know that. I'm fully prepared for that. Everyone will disappoint me sooner or later. The trick is not to trust too much. But… but not my baby."
"Hm?" Tony makes, behind the metal mask, then turns on the welder again, drowning out any response she might have had.
Bruce is inspecting her and Sharon's combined blood sample for clotting or something like that. When the welding noise dies down painfully, he sighs. "Tony, could you shut up for a moment?"
"What?" Tony pushes up the metal mask. "You're asking me in advance ?"
Bruce rolls his eyes, staring intently at the blood. "Just say yes."
"Fine." Tony pulls the mask all the way off. "Was gonna do some finetuning anyway. Don't mind me."
Bruce sighs again. "Yeah, so, Nat, about the scan you don't want to do… The endovaginal one."
"Did you seriously wait until James is gone to talk about that?" Natasha questions.
"Excuse me, he looked ready to murder someone the second you pushed up your shirt for the ultrasound," Bruce defends. "I don't think he'd like this."
"Can't we wait until Clint's ex is here?" Natasha asks. "That would be more comfortable for everyone involved."
"Could take a few more days," Bruce replies. "And this thing is growing so fast… I just want to make sure she has the best possible information ready when she arrives."
"Can I say something?" Tony suggests innocently.
"I know you don't like it," Bruce hurries to say. "And I've been thinking… I don't have to do it myself. I could ask Sharon or Pepper to assist."
Natasha bites her lip. "I don't know."
"I'd just have to look at the screen," Bruce adds. "Really."
"Could you…" She hesitates. "Could you ask Sam?"
"Seriously?" Tony interjects, switching to a bigger screwdriver.
"Yeah, sure," Bruce replies immediately. "But it's not about medical knowledge. Pepper or Sharon could do it just as well. Also, Sam's only trained in emergency medicine, nothing that would help here."
"I'd prefer if he did it," Natasha insists. "If he agrees, of course. If you could ask."
"If you… okay." Bruce shakes his head, pushing the vial away. "I'll ask. Right now, or…?"
"Yeah, right now, we should have plenty of time," Natasha replies. "And Tony, you better fuck off or I'll tell Pepper."
Tony grins, stuffing the screwdriver between his teeth. "Mhm. No fankf. Gah. Fuft a fecond."
"I hope he's awake," Bruce remarks, closing the door behind him.
Tony yanks the screwdriver out again and drills something in. "Mhm. There. So, seriously, Sam?"
"Come the fuck on," Natasha remarks. "You know I'm not that comfortable… it's not about having a vagina."
"He's going to say no," Tony states, lifting up the metal parts. "With your creepy bat boyfriend around. I mean, if he's smart."
"That's purely medical," Natasha returns. "It's just awkward, it doesn't mean anything."
Tony grins, putting the metal parts down and getting up. "Oh, sure. I wouldn't bet on it."
  Sam doesn't say no and now she's in a weird hospital gown, feet planted, and Bruce is pointedly only looking at the screen. "Tell me if it hurts," Sam remarks.
Oh, she must have pulled a face again. She shakes her head, willing the expression away. "Could you…" Bruce starts.
"Deeper?" Sam asks.
Bruce blushes, nodding. The gloved fingers sink in a little deeper, uncomfortable, she's not that wide. It's not only weird, it kinda hurts, stretching and poking. She blinks, staring at the ceiling, clenching fists. "Is that…?" Sam asks.
Bruce nods, pushing some buttons. "Yeah."
Natasha turns her head, glad for the distraction from the fact that Sam has the transducer and his fingers up her vagina. "What?"
"The heartbeat," Bruce replies. "It shows."
Natasha bites her lip. "And it moves, stretches," Sam adds, looking at the screen. "Do you feel that?"
She shakes her head. "Are we done soon?"
"Sorry," Sam remarks. "Bruce, are we-"
"Little to the left," Bruce interrupts. "I'd like to take a closer look at that."
  She wakes up when something touches her hand, warm but firm, like a cobblestone in the sun. Opens her eyes hazily. It's dark down here, but it's James, and they're alone otherwise. "Mhm."
"Hey," James whispers. "How are you?"
He looks better, at least. Natasha sighs. "Okay. Tired. Hungry."
"I'll get you something in a minute," James promises, rubbing her hand. "Just… I thought about it and… can I talk to you?"
She lets her head drop to the side, staring at the wall. "Yes."
"Please don't have the baby," James says. "I know it's not my- it's your decision but- please don't."
She doesn't say anything, heaving chest the only sign she's not dead. "Even if it's your decision, it's still my responsibility," he continues. "I know you don't want to hear that it's my fault but- you wouldn't be in this without me. And I want to be there for you, help you, not leave you alone with problems I created- but I can't. You know what I am. I don't like it but I can't change it."
A tear runs down her cheek and he picks it up, staring at the drop on his finger. "I'll disappoint you, sweetheart. I'm not… human enough to do this. I don't want to abandon you but even if I stay, it's as good as that. I can't give you that, do that, what you need. I'd rather be not a father at all than a bad father."
Another tear breaks free, no stopping it. "I don't want you to cry because of me," he whispers. "Don't give me a responsibility I can't live up to. Just… if Schmidt finds me, he'll kill me. I still hope that you can get away somehow but… I don't think I'll make it out alive. You'll be okay on your own without me but… I can't bear saddling you with a baby I'll never be able to take care of."
She wants to tell him to shut up but the lump in her throat is too big and scratchy. James smiles, gently wiping away the tears on her cheek. "You don't have to say anything. I'll… I'll get you something to eat now."
When he comes back with a PBJ sandwich, she pretends to be fast asleep.
3 notes · View notes
fanfiction4thesoul · 4 years
Text
What I See Part 3
Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader
Word Count: ~1.9
Warnings: None
Summary: You’re headed back home to London after a few years in America. You’ve got a new job at EMI, thanks to your best friend Freddie and you’re ready to start the next chapter of your life. But navigating life is far more interesting when you see far more than anyone else.
A/N: You guys. I did homework the entirety of my spring break. And there’s still some stuff that I’m procrastinating on soooo I hope you’re not too upset that I took so long. This chapter is like, the final set up before Reader and Roger can really start to get to know each other so I hope you enjoy! Thank you to everyone still sticking with me as well as every single one of you that likes/comments/reblogs!!
Part 2
You stared up at the quaint library in front of you, admittedly a little nervous. Roger had tossed you his keys to the van this morning with a wink, reminding you not to explore anywhere else without him. You got directions from the owners of the studio and made the journey into town. The library was bigger than you expected for a small town like this one though you supposed that was a good thing. 
The inside was just as quaint as the outside and almost empty. The stern looking woman behind the information desk gave you a look as you entered but otherwise didn’t say anything. 
You took your time looking through the shelves trying to find what you needed. But it felt like looking through a needle in a haystack. You weren’t familiar with the Dewey Decimal system enough to know where your small, niche topic would be hiding. It took you 20 minutes to admit defeat and go to the front desk to ask the woman. 
If anything, her face got even more pinched when you told her what you were looking for, but she gave you the call number and pointed you in the right direction. When you got there, though, you practically knew it was going to be useless. Most of the titles you were looking at were things like Haunted Places, My Venture into the Afterlife, and 100 TRUE Ghost Hauntings. 
There was a rather large book though that might have something. It was titled Occult: A How To Guide. You pulled it off the shelf and went to settle in a chair in the back, away from the view of the front desk. There were no chapter titles so you started skimming through. The book definitely contained some interesting information like magic and practices (which you never really believed in but hey, you talk to dead people so who knows?) and of course supernatural creatures.
You were trying to be thorough in your skimming so it definitely took you longer than expected to reach the chapter about ghosts (chapter 15, page 392). Once you got there, you took the time to actually read the chapter, not wanting to miss any information. A lot of it explained what spirits were and all the theories about the afterlife or what plane of existence they seem to live on, as well as how they communicate with the living. 
Just as you were getting to the part about psychic mediums, someone spoke up behind you. “Whatcha readin’?”
You jumped in your chair, dropping the book to the floor with a dull thud. Whirling around, you were met with Richie, smirking up at you while he leaned against a bookcase.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you growled out at him. You shifted to look down the stacks to make sure no one was coming to check on the noise you just made. “Didn’t I just see you a week ago?”
“Well, yeah. But I got bored and everyone kept pestering me ‘bout you, so here I am.” He waved his arms out, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Alright, you found me. Now what do you want?”
“Well I wanted to know what you’re reading.”
You felt your face heat up a bit as you looked down at the occult book. “Uhh, just researching, you know.” Was it weird to tell a ghost you were reading about their… species? Being? Whatever they are?
You tried to pick the book up quick enough but Richie was already reading the cover. “Occult? (Y/N), you’re reading about magic?” He seemed confused, brushing his hair out of his face as he looked at you.
“Not… not really no. I’m--I have a bit of a problem,” you confessed.
“What do you mean?”
You explained to Richie the spirit that’s attached to Roger, from his outburst the first night to the continued negativity that he spreads around wherever he goes. “And, I don’t know. I was hoping there might have been a book here that would have, like, remedies? Kind of? To… ward him off or keep him away or just do something. So, yeah… occult.” You lifted the book awkwardly as if to prove your point.
Richie was silent during your explanation, brows pinched together as he focused on your words. “(Y/N), you're telling me that you’ve gone your whole life not knowing about--about anything? How have you been protecting yourself?” He seemed irritated as he started pacing in front of the stacks.
You just gaped at him. “Wha--what--how was I supposed to know about protection? I’ve never needed protection.”
Richie stopped his pacing to stare at you. “You’ve never met a negative spirit before? Never?”
“No!” You said, a little too loudly. You glanced down the stacks again before answering. “No. Every spirit I ever met was nice. Well maybe not nice-nice. Some of them did like friendly pranks or whatever, but no one was ever mean.”
Richie stared at you a moment longer before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “First off, that’s crazy. Secondly, you need sage.”
“Sage,” you repeated dumbly.
“Yes, sage. You burn it around the area you want to cleanse and tell the spirit to leave. That should do the trick.”
“Where… do I buy sage?”
Richie sighed, “Jeez (Y/N). At the apothecary. Or any herbal store.”
“Right…” You felt your face heat up again. “Is it… is it weird that I never met a negative spirit?” You felt so dumb at the moment on a topic that you thought you knew so much about. 
Richie must have sensed your hesitation because his face immediately softened. “It’s… odd. There’s a lot of them out there and with you so intune to spirits, it’s a little unusual that you’ve never seen one. Doesn’t make it bad. But someone should have told you how to protect yourself. Or you should have learned more yourself. Before you actually met one. You didn’t know though, so it’s okay.” He smirked at you, the twinkle back in his eye, “This is just a nice piece of dirt to gossip about back home.”
You groaned, “Oh, Richiiee. Don’t, please?”
“Not a chance, sweetheart. Now you better get going. Go buy some sage before the stores close.”
You glanced out the window, noticing for the first time the orange sky and when you glanced back, Richie was gone. 
~O~
The sage was surprisingly easy to find and, since it was at a herbal store, nobody looked at you twice for purchasing it. You got back to the farm shortly after the sun had set, the lights from inside the main house guiding your way. Everyone was gathered together in the sitting room, including Paul, Ratty, Crystal and, of course, your resident ghost.
“(Y/N)! There you are. We were starting to get worried,” Freddie said, pulling you into a hug. “Rog thought you drove the van into a ditch.”
“I did not!” 
Freddie winked before turning around with his hands on his hips, “Alright, but you did think she might’ve broken down.”
Roger’s face heated up slightly making you smile.
“I was worried, so sue me.”
“Are you hungry, (Y/N)? We just finished eating and saved you a plate.” John asked you quietly, moving the attention away from Roger and back to you.
“Food sounds great, yeah,”
The boys wanted to sit and chat which you participated in while you ate. You were still uncomfortable, but you were also really anxious to try out the sage. There was no way you could just pull out a bundle of sage though and waft it around without everyone thinking you were bonkers.
You left with the excuse of exhaustion, tossing Roger his keys back on your way out. As soon as you were outside, you beelined to the studio. Pulling out the sage and a match, you lit the tip and waited until it was smoking, burning away slowly.
Richie said to burn it around the area, so you walked around every inch you could, holding the burning sage out. He also said to tell the spirit to leave, but it wasn’t like he was here to listen anyway. So you took your time walking around, going over the couch, soundboard and into the studio. You even wafted it at the Red Special, just in case.
When you were finally satisfied, you used far more sage than you thought you would. Maybe you overdid it? The room didn’t feel any different, but you supposed you would find out tomorrow. You stuck the stick back into your pocket and turned to leave.
“(Y/N)?”
“Shit!” You jumped. Crystal was holding the door open, halfway through the entryway. “Shit, Crystal. You scared me.”
“Yeah, well you scared me. Thought someone broke in or something. I thought you said you were tired?”
“I am. But I wanted to make sure everything was set for tomorrow. I know the boys are anxious to do some actual recording.” You made up a lie on the spot, grateful the sage was out of sight.
But Crystal didn’t seem suspicious. He actually agreed with you.
“Ha, yeah. They’ve got so much going on in those heads of theirs that sometimes bringing it out and putting on paper can be a real challenge. God knows I want to bash their heads together sometimes.”
“It can’t be that bad,” you said, following Crystal out of the studio. You walked the short distance to your house going back and forth about the weird creative process the band does when writing.
“You’ll see,” he said, stopping before his bedroom. “Once they actually start recording, you’ll see. Then I can say ‘I told you so.’”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, alright. Night.”
“Night”
As you got ready for bed, you fished out the sage and put it in the bottom drawer of your dresser. You might do your house and the house the boys were staying in. That is, depending on how well it actually worked. You didn’t think Richie would lie to you, but you also didn’t want to get your hopes up if it didn’t.
Mostly, you just wanted to be able to laugh with Freddie again and get to know Roger more without your shoulders tense and your mood sour.
~O~
The next morning, you were in the studio first thing, doing some actual tinkering before the boys came in. You had a bunch of nervous energy while you waited though. 
The bang of the door opening made you jump and you watched as the boys filed in, already arguing lightly about a song. But after they all came in and the door swung shut, that was it.
No one came in behind Deaky, who was the last to enter.
No oppressive energy.
No ghost.
“What’s got you so smiley, love?” Roger was staring at you questioningly. The other boys were already in the booth area leaving you two behind.
“Nothing, I just… I just feel like I can finally breathe easy, ya know?”
“Hmm, yeah. Walking in here felt like a breath of fresh air. Just makes me more excited to start recording, yeah?” He gave you a wide smile, leaning in closer. “Ready to help us make a killer album, love?”
You matched his smile, starting to get excited “Yeah, let’s do this.”
Part 4
~
Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @rogahs-drowse @butlegendsneverdie @the-moving-finger-writes @leghy @juliarvra
32 notes · View notes
lovemesomesurveys · 4 years
Text
1. Is there something you have been trying to learn lately? I’ve been participating in a Bible study the past few weeks. 
2. If you ever feel like you are different from your extended family, in which ways is this? Uhhh, I mean I have quite a big extended family so I’m different from them in a lot of ways. They’re of various ages and they’re all different like I can’t group them all together.
3. When you think about your future career, do you envision yourself becoming the head honcho or CEO? If not, why not? I have no idea what my future entails career wise (or otherwise). I certainly don’t envision myself becoming the CEO or head of anything, though. I don’t want to be, either. 
4. Is there something that you are sort of weird about talking about? Like, a thing that other people find casual, but you feel uncomfortable when the subject comes up? Politics.  5. Can you think of a time when you seriously misjudged a music artist based on their name? Hm. I’m not sure if just by their name alone without knowing anything about them. I know that if I’m familiar with an artist and not particularly a fan of theirs, I’ll probably assume I won’t like new music they come out with either. I likely won’t even listen to it.
6. Do you ever make negative comments about other body types? How does it make you feel when you see or hear negative comments about your body type, or a physical trait that you have (even when it’s not directed at you)? I can’t say that I never have before. And yes, I hear negative comments about my body type often, like how people who are thin like me are “sickly” and “boney” and how we must not be eating and stuff like that. I’m very self-conscious about my weight and being too thin has caused me health problems. 
7. If you are in a situation where you feel like you are being attacked or not respected, how easy or difficult is it for you to stay and keep your head rather than leave in a huff? Uh, I think I would probably leave a situation like that. 
9. When you think about how attractive you feel and your favorite features, are you comparing yourself to a societal ideal? I don’t feel attractive at all, my self-esteem is shit and yes I do compare myself to others. 
10. If you have a favorite song right now: What is it? How did you first hear it? Why do you like it so much? “Be Happy” by Dixie D’Amelio and “Overwhelmed” by Royal & the Serpent. 
11. Have you ever had someone that has been your friend for a while come to you and tell you they had romantic feelings for you? How did you respond, and did the friendship survive? Kind of. I was friends with a guy in high school who I liked at the time, but he didn’t feel that way about me. Then a few years later he started showing interest in me and wanted to date, but I had long since moved on and didn’t feel that way about him anymore. In fact, I was interested in someone else. So, it was kind of awkward for a bit. He would flirt and bring it up a lot and I was just like, ...no. At one point he kept asking for a kiss at least and I finally gave in. Anyway, we remained friends and he moved on as well and dated other people and we were cool.
12. Hypothetically speaking, if Hillary Clinton were running for President as a democrat against Chris Christie as a republican in 2016, who do you predict would win the election? >> ---
13. When you are getting to know someone new online (particularly someone male), how cautious are you of the possibility that they are serial killer/kidnapper? I’m cautious of anyone I talk to online. Everyone should be. But that goes for people you meet “in real life” as well.
14. If you are talking to someone that you want to get to know, what are your go-to conversation topics? What subject makes you disappointed when another person isn’t interested in or knowledgable about it? I kinda just have to get a vibe and see where the conversation goes. I suppose typical stuff like interests and whatnot come up, though. 
15. Say you have a lot of free time and want to join a club or class. You are browsing postings on local bulletin boards and online. What sort of group would you be interested in joining (e.g., book club, game group, crafts, golf lessons, etc.)? I do participate in online Bible studies, which I really enjoy. A book club would be cool, too. Like mystery/psychological thriller book club. Also, we (myself and fellow survey takers on here) have our survey group!
16. Have you ever kissed someone that you didn’t really want to kiss (not assault, just indifference)? Why did you go along with it and how did you feel after? I mentioned that in question 11 not even realizing it was a question later on. But yeah like I said, he kept asking and I finally gave in. I guess I was also curious, wondering if maybe there possibly was something between us. For me, it just felt awkward. 
17. Have you recently learned anything about your personality? If not, have you ever consciously tried to change your personality? Hm. I don’t think I have recently.
18. Are you or any of your friends in a sorority or fraternity? Would you be interested in belonging to one? I’m not and never have been. Wasn’t something I was interested in joining. I don’t have any friends, so no I don’t have any in a sorority or fraternity. 
19. Can you recall a recent time that you were surprised, but in a bad way? Recently.
20. Do you feel uncomfortable when you receive praise for doing certain things? If so, does this make you less likely to do those things? I mean, it’s nice to hear “good job” and receive encouragement and support. I’m just awkward, so it’s weird for me to hear it. Probably also because I feel like I’m not deserving of it. I’ll downplay it and shift the praise to something else.
21. Do you make spontaneous purchases often or rarely? When you are upset does it make you temporarily happier to buy yourself something new? I haven’t done too much shopping this year, actually. I’ve cut back compared to previous years. I’m finding myself asking myself whether I really need something or telling myself I don’t need it and that I have enough of said thing more often lately, which is good. I can’t say I never give in lol but it’s getting better, I think.
22. If you have to wake up early for something, what time is just TOO early for you to be there and be presentable and sentient? Have you ever had to be somewhere that early? Honestly, now if I have to be somewhere in the morning I just stay up. For most of this year I’ve been staying up until like 7 or 8AM, sometimes 9, for whatever reason and my appointments fall within those times. It’s easier for me to stay up instead of attempt some sleep because then it’ll just be harder for me to get up and I won’t want to. Now, that doesn’t mean that I’m sentient haha. As for presentable... debatable. ha.
23. Have the majority of your romantic relationships started with a physical attraction or a deeper connection? I’ve only had 2 relationships and one started more with a physical attraction and the other with a connection cause we had been friends for awhile beforehand.
24. Do you ever catch any of those conspiracy shows on Animal Planet, like Bigfoot hunting or proof of Mermaids? Do those shows make your more or less likely to believe in the existence of such creatures? I don’t watch ‘em. 
25. Did you ever write a fan letter to a celebrity? How about submit something to a magazine? Yeah, during my preteen years I wrote a couple.
3 notes · View notes
lokisasylum · 4 years
Text
Why are Kpop Predictions so... negative?
I'm not one to humor people who do Kpop Predictions (and for free? really? ya'll out here "spilling info/tea" about celebrities for FREE? IN THIS ECONOMY?). I just find them laughable/amusing because of how inaccurate they are 95% of the times, while toying with the fandoms' emotions. Creating unnecessary drama and stress about things that anyone with a common sense and logic could've predicted all on their own. But to give you guys an idea, here are a few by category:
#1. Twitter based Kpop Predictions
I’ve always had this MAJOR feeling that the great majority of them are run by THE SAME person on different accounts (kinda like how on Tumblr we're allowed to "manage" different blogs for whatever we may need 'em). Cause if you pay close attention they ALL share the same pattern:
SAME moon/crystal ball Icons
SAME way of "predicting" events ( *coughCOPY/PASTEcoughcough* )
They ALL go on hiatus at the SAME TIME and when they finally return they give the SAME excuse that they were depressed, drained of energy, mental blockage/migraine from predicting so much.
They throw shade at other prediction accounts and accuse them of "copying" them since they're "the original one."
They throw random predictions per day that never come true and when they don't and get called out its always the same excuse of "you choose what you want to believe" or "I never said it was gonna happen NOW, it could still happen in the future." (even after saying they would during the current year lol).
The great majority of these accounts are BIASED AF and mostly run by delulu shippers who tease the followers with incomplete information to keep ‘em interested.
🐍 Note: The one thing that I heavily dislike about these is that it's been proven in previous years that these accounts either work with or buy information from Sasaengs or insiders within the companies. Which is a big NO-NO in the Kpop community since Sasaengs are disgustingly invasive and have zero disregard for the Idol’s personal life and safety.
#2. Youtube Kpop Predictions/Tarot Card Readers, or as I like to call them: the "super-tragic-always-negative-BTS-are-gonna-disband-this-year-or-the-next-under-super-tragic-circumstances" accounts.
These youtubers  are known for spending and wasting 15-20 minutes of their videos (and viewers lives) doing self-promos and showing off the different card decks that they've just recently bought (as if the predictions change based on whether or not you're using a Classic Arcana or a Sailor Moon/Pokemon/YuGiOh with limited edition EXODIA & Shadow Realm included deck) And as mentioned above, ALL of them give super tragic/negative predictions, especially when it comes to BTS. Like I remember at the start of this year, there were around 10 (or more) of them saying that BTS would either disband in mid or near the end of 2019. 5 of them stated (in COPY/PASTE fashion) that 2 members would either abandon the group to pursue solo careers, or that 1 would leave and the other would be kicked out for either health issues or this super huge controversial scandal that would ruin BTS' or the member's image and something about "diva behavior" or that the same member was a huge bully towards the others (and annoyingly enough, all of them kept pointing to both Jin and Jimin for some strange reason). But as we've seen, 2019 came and practically went and BTS are still together, still thriving. Maybe one or two "dating rumors" here and there during their "time off" that died in a span of 1 month or so and everyone went on with their lives because it was found to be the product of antis wanting to start shit because everybody wants a BTS scandal (and of course, close to AWARD SEASON *LE GASP*).   So now those same "psychics" are correcting themselves and making up excuses that "they didn't have all the info" or "misunderstood it when they first got it". 🐍🐍 Note: I found it both hilarious and ignorant how the great majority of them are using the "members will start to leave one by one" as a sign of the group disbanding, when we know that starting next year they'll start enlisting in the military which is MANDATORY FOR ALL MEN IN KOREA. Meaning that all Male Korean Idols go through this process and DOES NOT necessarily mean imminent disbandment.
🐍🐍🐍 Extra: Oh yeah, can't forget that one account who said that all Kpop groups are part of the illuminati and they’re using some MK-Ultra shit on the fans through their music which is why fans all over the world now like Kpop and made it famous. Can't forget about those or someone will fight me. (The person deleted their channel too)
#3. Tumblr Kpop Predictions
*SIGH* .... where to start with this one....?
The group in this category is a strange hybrid between Twitter, Youtube and Wattpad/AO3. 'Cause i swear that some of the stuff I've read in a few of these account posts. while browsing for BTS. look like they were taken straight out of a super Angsty, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU, 30 chapters summarized into a oneshot fic. So you'll be either heavily disturbed or highly entertained at how creative the person is with their "reading". Like there was this one person who alleged that Jimin had been a woman in like 3 of his past lives, but was always involved in very abusive relationships (in 1 of said lives his/her father had r*ped him/her and Jimin gave birth to a daughter and  when the daughter grew up they both fell in love with the same man. And the daughter ends up killing Jimin to keep the man for herself LOL what kind of twisted A/B/O shit is this?!) and apparently its...affecting him in the present with how he treats others? And like... the only way for him to "break the cycle" is by "making peace" with his past selves? Or else he'll keep repeating it?
(y'know...like The Avatar).
This same person also said that the Maknae Line have a beef with the Hyung Line. And that Jimin was gonna kill himself this year or when BTS disbands next year, cause without the group he was useless/talent-less and it didnt matter if he did solo projects cause they wouldn't be as famous as the other members, plus his supposed "girlfriend" would leave him at the same time which is why he'll kill himself. Like....BITCH, WHICH IS IT? Do you want him to make peace with himself and live a long healthy life or do you want him dead?? MAKE UP YOUR MIND! Or better yet, just say you're a Jimin anti and go (cause she didnt have any probs with the other members, always targeted Jimin). Although there ARE exceptions, like another user who told this past-lives reading on how they all used to be 1 person who died and their soul got divided into 7, and the 7 of them always managed to find one another on each and every one of the lives they've lived through (like the HEARTBEAT mv). That one was nice.
In Conclusion....
I just feel bad because of how ignorant and gullible the Kpop fandom in general has become in the past years (Especially the newer fans who don’t understand how Korean culture works, much less the Korean Entertainment Industry). To the point of giving these people clout when in reality they’re just taking advantage of them because they know how thirsty and obsessed some fans can get in their need to know MORE about the artists/group they stan.  
8 notes · View notes
Text
Survey #251
apologies the formatting is fucked up, oof.
How many smurfs can you name? Zero. Have you ever fully eradicated a bad habit that you had? Uhhh maybe? I'm not sure. The radio is playing U2, The Defects, Echo & the Bunnymen, The Pointer Sisters, Staubkind, and Dr. Dre. on different stations. Which band are you most likely to listen to? I only know U2 (and do NOT like them), Dr. Dre, and one song by E&TB; I don't know the others. I guess I'd pick whichever song sounded most appealing. Miracle on 34th Street, original or remake? Never seen it. Have you ever been in a parade? No. Do you turn the bass up all the way in your car (or would you if you had a car) and blast the music? Ew, no. That shit's obnoxious. What keeps you from being happy? I'm quiiiite sad of an adult. I want to feel worth something, do something. If you could go back in time and talk to yourself five years ago what would you say to yourself (You can only stay in the past for FIVE MINUTES so make it COUNT!)? At that time, Jason and I would still be together, so I'd try to nail it into my head that I can't put my happiness entirely in another person's hands and that I have to have faith in myself and my own strength. AND ESPECIALLY to not give up, to keep trying harder every day. Five minutes wouldn't be enough. What websites are addictive to you? I'd go bonkers without YouTube, and I go through Tumblr binges, but then don't go on for a few days. I have to check KM daily, but it's not really an "addictive" thing, but rather the admin instinct of I have to make sure everything is in order. I check Facebook habitually, but only like, once or twice a day. Who do you never want to end up like? It's... sad to say, but in a lot of ways, my mom. Her life's just been super, super unfair. As a person she's mostly lovely, but as far as luck, happiness, and success goes, sometimes it feels like the whole world's against her. What will you never ever do again? Turn another person into my whole entire universe. What’s the most terrible lie someone could tell you? Something regarding Jason, I'm sure. Probably like, he said he never loved me or something. Even knowing that's absolute shit, PTSD is a ride and I'd. Lose my absolute shit and obsess over "well what if he really didn't." What was the last thing that you printed out? Stuff for my Women Writers class. We print out SO much shit there. I feel like I've alone killed at least seven trees by now, and we don't have a choice but to print the readings out. What do you look forward to each day? M a r k/Unus Annus video boiz. What’s the best song to listen to after a break up? "It depends on the context of your breakup." <<<< This. The radio is playing Poison, Inxs, the Psychadelic Furs, Dio, and Matchbox 20 on different stations. What do you listen to? AHHHHHHHHH Poison, my friends. Do you know what it’s like to take care of someone else? Not really, I guess? But yes to a degree: I've babysat twice, and I assume that counts, and then when Jason had bronchitis, I would barely let the dude leave the bed. Would you rather take care of someone or be taken care of? I don't know, I guess it depends on what's wrong? What is the worst 80’s song in your opinion? You're asking someone who loves '80s music. I'm sure there are some pop-ish/more mainstream ones I don't like, but idk off the very top of my head. What song makes you so happy that just want to dance and dance and DANCE? None. What has been your most beautiful magical memorable cloud nine manic ecstatic incredibly happy bouncy air-light moment of this life??? Slow-dancing to "Stairway to Heaven" w/ Jason out in my yard in his headlights the night of prom. It's the reason I absolutely, entirely, 100% cannot listen to the song anymore, no chance. Do you go out of your way for other people? Depends on the person. What’s your favorite short story? I don't know. Have do you feel about beauty pageants? I fucking hate them. It always just feeds the standards of society and makes both women and men hate their bodies. It also puts far too much emphasis on the "importance" of appearance versus personality. What is your favorite DIY related website? I don't do/watch DIY stuff. Do you bruise easily? Very very, but not the ones you usually see clearly. I don't know how my anemia test came back negative. What kind of bread do you like? Pumpernickel is entirely the supreme type, I love potato bread too, I enjoy wheat... Are your air and water as pure as you want them to be? Idk about air, but I'd suppose so; we live in a rural area. Our tap water, I'm positive no. There's some weird shit with our water. The smell is fucking disgusting, like pure iron, but supposedly it's clean... We've had it tested a few times, but there is SOMETHING wrong with it. Would you ever visit an insect zoo? Sure, if they couldn't get on me. Can you enjoy life without stimulants (coffee, cigarettes, drugs, alcohol)? All of those, yes. Does caffeine count? If so, I'm sure I could, but it'd be very hard. How much thought do you put into your dance moves? I don't dance, so like... zero. What is something you want to improve on this year? Just how much I care about others' perceptions of me, mainly over the most trivial of things. If you could, would you want to stay young forever? No, considering I want to die one day. Immortality sounds ew. What is/was your worst subject in school? Mathematics. Are you a sarcastic person? Oh yeah. What role does religion play in your life? A small one. It helps that my religion (or at least the one I relate closest to, Neo-Paganism) doesn't have the most strict doctrine, therefore allowing a lot of wiggle room varying from person to person. Can you sleep with your eyes open? No. In the past week, what song have you listened to the most often? "Broadcast From Beyond the Grave: Death Inc." by Motionless In White. What was the last thing you shared with someone else? I shared some fries with my mom last time we grabbed fast food. While playing video games, do you prefer being first or second player? I don't care, UNLESS I'm showing someone a new game and therefore I know what to click and such to set the game up; in that case, I prefer to be player one. Otherwise, I don't care at all. What is the most difficult word for you to pronounce? HA, currently, my Biology professor's last name. I obviously won't share it, but I always fuck it up. What did you have to do for the last homework you were assigned? I have to watch a movie - The Suffragette - for Women Writers for when I missed it that week I was away from school. What was the last important thing that you thought about? I think if Mom and I really should stock up on food and TP, but to an actually realistic degree. You hear so many different voices on how bad this pandemic is really gonna be. Personally, I think it's an extreme overreaction, but what do I know. I haven't researched. Generally, do you call people, or wait for them to call you? I wait. I hate talking on the phone. Has anyone ever questioned your sanity? I'm sure, including my gd self. I'm 99.99% sure at one point in the breakup's aftermath, I actually was insane by definition. Especially now that I'm mostly recovered, looking back I'm just like... "hun." How many people do you depend on? Just my mom, really, but to a dangerous degree. How many people do you think depend on you? I feel like my mom does, to an extent anyway. I'm the only person who lives with her and I know she loves me, so I'm company for her. Especially now that she has cancer, she's really gonna depend on me during chemo and surgery. What is the worst color combination? Uhhh maybe like. Puke green and brown? Have you ever injured yourself walking around in the dark? Yeah, but nothing severely. At what age did you develop an interest in the opposite [or same] sex? Idk. I was "ew, boys" until I think... late elementary school. Girls, I had my bi crisis in the 8th grade. Then came the denial and shoving into the very back of my skull. I came out as bi though late '17. Are you or members of your family religious? I think my entire family is but me. Well, correction, I have like a mild connection to religion, but definitely not Christianity like the rest. When was the last time you acted like someone you’re not? Good question. It's not something I really bother with anymore. Like, I can curve around things I don't want to share, but I don't fake what I do reveal. When was the last time that you cleaned your room? Actually! I vacuumed and dusted yesterday. Or the day before, not sure. How many hats do you own/wear? Either none or one, in which case it would be a Carolina Hurricanes' cap as a memento I got from one of the hockey games Dad and I went to. Did the last song you listened to hold any special meaning? I actually don't recall what it was. Are you experiencing problems within a current relationship? No. When you’re upset, who do you turn to? Usually Mom. Does winter weather depress you? Noooo! Who was the last person that you called? Me mother. What product was being advertised on the last commercial you saw? I haven't watched TV in forever. When you think about your last relationship, what song comes to mind? "Oh, Pretty Woman" by Van Halen REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Are there any lyrics to describe your current crush/relationship? Eh. Who in your life makes you the most uncomfortable? Probably my sister's husband, really. I don't think he likes me at all. Treats me decently to my face, but I have my reasons to believe so. Do you ever receive comments on your weight? Not unless I'm at the doctor. Occasionally people who know me well comment I've lost weight, but it hasn't really happened lately now that my weight's slightly risen for who the actual fuck knows why. Don't get me started. Is there anything that you do just to make other people happy? Uhhh just for that sole purpose, don't think so. When you need a temporary escape, what do you do? Listen to music or sleep. What was the last lie that you believed in? I don't want to focus on it. What band would you most like to meet? OZZY. LET ME SEE MY DAD. What was the last thing that you wrote down [with a pen/pencil]? Psychology notes. Has anyone told you that you have a nice smile? Yes. Are you uncomfortable with being photographed? YES. How many people have you talked to today? Just Mom. We woke up in the middle of the night to screeching tires outside; someone lost control of their car because dumbasses go lightning speed around this cure we live on. When you go camping, do you sleep in a tent or an RV? Never legitimately been camping. What’s one ridiculous thing that you do? Let anxiety ruin a lot of opportunities. Do you feel that you must wear makeup to be attractive? Ehhh no, depending on your taste. Ever done anything dangerous while driving with someone else in the car? I don’t drive. Name someone you wish you could be closer with? There's a handful of old high school friends/acquaintances I have on Facebook I really wanna rekindle relationships with. I think I especially would like to get to know Courtlynn better. We seem very similar. What’s unique about your city or town? Its name is shared with a town in Tennessee. Are you a momma’s girl/boy? I'm very close to my mom. What is your favorite dance to do? *shrugs* What is your favorite song to sing? I don't really sing along with songs, but I suppose "Disguise" by MiW. It holds meaning to me and I also just love the chorus. Is English your 1st language? Yes. Did your older sibling ever tell you freaky stories that you believed? I DO NOT know why I remember this, but one time she told me that a boy in her class kept saying the same word repeatedly so many times that it became the only word he could say. It scared me, lmao. Where is the biggest scar on your body? I'd assume at the very bottom of my pelvis where I had surgery. I can't actually see it, but cleaning the area let me know it was kinda long. Do you have a yahoo account? No. Is your mom prettier than you? This is such a mean question, tf. What do you think about guys shaving their legs? You shave whatever you want, boo. Are you a violent person? Not at all, if you don't include my insane nightmares/terrors/whatever they qualify as. Those are always violent. Do you like word searches and cross word puzzles? I do. Have you ever gone to a private school? Yes, my college.
3 notes · View notes
gwentoryfics · 4 years
Note
TMI: all of my female friends and me included have a hard time reaching an orgasm while sleeping with someone for the first few times, especially if there's not much foreplay or clit stimulation during sex. I know that there's women out there who reach their orgasms easily and just through penetration, but the majority of women I know can't, and especially not when they don't know a dude. It takes a lot for me to cum and trust plays a big role in it so I can't relate to most orgasms sadly lmao
anonymous said: I dont know if this falls under unrealistic smut but somehow every fictional virgin girl has a mind blowing orgasm when she loses her virginity. Most girl friends I talked to were very tense and said it was super awkward and they didn’t even come close, and even the ones who said that it was a nice experience did not cum for the first few times they had sex.
anonymous said: This isn’t a pet peeve or a turn off but sadly I can’t relate to overstimulation or multiple orgasms. When I have an orgasm and I start to come down again, I don’t want anything or anyone near my clit for at least 20 minutes. It’s actually really painful if someone touches my clit before it calmed down again. So yeah, also TMI but 🤷🏻‍♀️ lol
First of all, thank you anons for reaching out about this topic. I think it’s a natural point of conversation when talking about smut writing, and I love that the three of you are willing to share your experience. Thank you for that. 💕
I agree on all of these points. Women statistically have a MUCH harder time orgasming from penetration alone, and trust is an important factor in the whole experience. First times are usually not great because of nerves, so it’s definitely unrealistic when a first-time smut scene is full of mind-blowing orgasms. And a lot of people get incredibly sensitive after an orgasm, and so just one is plenty. I have a similar experience with all three of those things!
WARNING: nice long post under the cut about my experience with orgasms. Just sharing my personal experience because I think it’s important to talk about, even though it’s something I’ve felt a lot of embarrassment and shame about for a long time. 
basic tl;dr - I’ve had trouble with orgasming for years for a number of reasons, and because of my anxieties about sex I use smut writing as an escape, and as a way to vicariously live out my desired sex life through my characters.
Let me start off by sharing that I’m currently 25, turning 26 in a few months. I started becoming sexually active around 14, but I didn’t have penis-in-vagina sex until I was 16. I think that time range is important to understand.
So all in all, I’ve been active for about 10-11 years. I’ve been touched with the goal of orgasm by six different people (plus another long-distance partner who never actually touched me, but Skype/phone sex is a thing). Across all of that, I’ve had probably less than 10 orgasms when a partner is involved, and all of those orgasms have only happened with the same person - my current boyfriend. That’s a lot of years and a lot of sex for a handful of orgasms.
I had my first orgasm when I was 19. I didn’t know my body could do that. I went to college and bought my first vibrator, and it gave me the tiniest little orgasm. I wasn’t even sure that it had really happened. But it did and I was just like, “Oh. Neat.” Not even close to mind-blowing.
Since then, I’ve been able to give myself much better and stronger orgasms, but the vast majority of the time I’m able to orgasm only if a vibrating/sucking toy is involved (oml my sucking toy is my absolute favorite, I highly recommend). Rarely, my hands are good enough. The first orgasm I ever had with a partner and without a toy happened just over two years ago, and that was the night I discovered that I enjoy riding my boyfriend’s face lol.
I’m sure most of us are aware of the statistics surrounding female orgasms - how we generally have a lot more trouble reaching orgasm than males for a variety of reasons. This is a very real thing and I know I’m not alone in struggling with this.
Personally, I think my struggle comes from my anxious personality. I put a lot of pressure on myself to perform during sex, to make sure that I look good and sound good and appear attractive to my partner. I think that probably comes from the fact that I started looking at porn when I was twelve. It seemed to me like there was a way that sex was supposed to happen, and a way that females were supposed to be during sex. So I tried my best to make sure my partners always saw me in that light - even to the point of faking orgasms left and right to make the boys feel better about themselves.
It was easier & less scary to just fake it than it was to explain that I didn’t really feel anything. I figured that me putting up with a lack of orgasms was better than the blow they’d take to their egos if I told them I wasn’t into what was happening. Even worse - I was afraid that if I told them I wasn’t feeling anything, they’d think there was something wrong with me. 
So let’s see… I faked my first orgasm when I was 16. Not sure if I did it the day I had sex for the first time, but it definitely started with that partner. Four partners & five years later, I was forced to stop. My faking had gotten out of control, to the point where if I wasn’t faking multiple orgasms every single time we had sex, my boyfriend thought I wasn’t enjoying myself. And then he started to doubt that I could even orgasm so frequently, and he confronted me about it. I decided to be honest, thinking that it was finally time for me to own up and try to reclaim my sexuality for myself.
He was insecure. I was insecure. He was upset that I had lied for so long, and I was upset that he wasn’t more understanding about it. We almost broke up, but we didn’t.
That was the summer of 2015. He and I are still together and have been dating for over six years now, and I love him more than anything. But the years of pressure and faking have seriously messed with me and most of the time I struggle to even want sex because I have so much anxiety about it. We’ve gone through a lot of dry spells while I’ve tried to work my shit out, and it’s a process. I’m trying to be more confident about sex and comfortable with whatever my body wants or needs in order to feel pleasure - and COMMUNICATING those things, that’s probably the hardest part. I totally clam up when I should be able to easily tell the love of my life what he can do to drive me wild.
Fuck anxiety, man.
And there are certainly other things that have played into my overall sex anxiety, like all the negative messages I received from my parents, schooling, and peers about sex, and the incredible fear I have surrounding getting pregnant or contracting STIs. Above all, the fear of judgment reigns supreme, and it has gotten in the way of so many aspects of my life - sexuality included.
This is probably way more than I actually needed to share, but this is all so that I can rationalize the way that I write.
I understand how difficult it is for a lot of women to reach orgasm frequently, and I know firsthand the shame and disappointment that can come from a lack of orgasm. For such a long time, I’ve felt like my body is broken. Like no one would be interested in putting in the time and encouragement I need to make an orgasm happen. 
That’s not the story I want to write.
For me, the sex scenes I write are a fantasy. It’s a wonderful picture of what I want my sex life to be like. I want positivity, I want orgasms, I want to be wild with lust for another person. Yes, those things can sometimes border unrealistic (still kind of cringing over the fact that I included squirting in HFT), but that’s what makes it fun for me. It’s an escape. 
I’ve toyed with writing a realistic virgin smut scene that doesn’t include a female orgasm, but I just don’t want to (don’t worry, anon, I know that you’re not actually asking me to do that). I don’t want to try to navigate the character’s emotions/thoughts when she doesn’t have an orgasm. I’ve already done that FOR YEARS in real life, and it’s been nothing short of painful and upsetting.
That’s just not something I can make myself do, no matter how realistic it is for the majority.
I want to write characters who are comfortable with their bodies, and partners who are fully invested in making it a shared experience. It feels like if I write about it enough, I can eventually make that my reality. 
I won’t apologize for writing an unrealistic number of female orgasms in my stories (and I don’t think that any of the anons here are asking for an apology, anyway). I will continue to write frequent orgasms with the hope that all of you lovely ladies out there will understand that YOU HAVE A RIGHT TO ORGASM. Your orgasm is not less important than your partner’s orgasm. ESPECIALLY with heterosexual sex - his cum is not the goal. It’s a shared experience, and you should get just as much pleasure from it. You’re allowed to want that, pursue that, demand that.
If you struggle with orgasms, it’s okay. You’re not broken. Bodies and minds are complicated. There’s nothing wrong with you. 
And please, I beg you - don’t start faking. Don’t do that to yourself. It’s an injustice to both you and your partner to lie about your experience. If I had talked honestly with my partners about this, I could have reached a more positive place in my sexuality a lot sooner. Just try to be open with your partners, and if that’s a difficult thing for you to do, then try to think about why that might be the case.
I know I just threw a lot out there. But I want you all to know that my blog is a safe space and you all are absolutely more than welcome to reach out to me at any time if you want advice or validation, or if you just need to share your experience with someone. If you want to ask questions about my experiences, ask away. I’ll be an open book for you all so that we can try to normalize having healthy conversations about sex.
2 notes · View notes