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hellishcreep101 · 2 years

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“𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐘” 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: Bakugou x Reader

warnings: mild language

A/N: Your dad is a high-ranked Pro Hero from America and is known as Acat, named after the Mayan deity. He had the ability to manipulate his tattoos and either manifest them physically or gain its powers directly. This was just a draft from my notes that I wrote a few months back. Enjoy~

It had been about a week since you transferred from your old school in America to U.A. High. Your father was one of the top ten Pro Heroes in America and was offered to work in Japan with the no.3 Pro Hero, Best Jeanist. Despite how intimidating your dad appeared to be and the insatiable amount of tattoos that decorated his body, he was well respected by everyone and had made his way up to the top ten in America, much like Hawks.

Apparently, your father and Jeanist knew each other when they went to U.A and both wanted to become heroes. Unfortunately, your dad ended up moving to America years later. But then, Best Jeanist recently reached out to your dad via email and offered him to work alongside him now that they were heroes and maybe even catch up, which your dad couldn't refuse. After you had moved all your belongings into the new house, you attended school the next day and got immediately put into the hero course in class 1-A under recommendations.

You were currently at your new home not too far the school, unpacking whatever it was you had left from your old house that you haven't unpacked yet into the new one. Just then, you heard a knock on your door, revealing your father behind it.

"I take it everything's going well?" He asked. You nodded in response.

"I just need to put whatever's left away and then I'll be finished with my room. After that, I'll be heading downstairs in the gym to train. Oh, and I'll be having a few friends over, if that's alright." You informed him. He simply hummed as he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"You don't seem very bothered by the fact that we live in Japan now. You're not at all upset that you had to leave your old school behind in America?" He questioned. You stopped what you were doing and turned towards him.

"To be perfectly frank, I don't really mind at all. It was always a dream of mine to come to Japan. Not only did that dream come to fruition, but I also attend one of it's most prestigious schools with the best hero courses in the city. Sure, I could've picked Shiketsu High, but after learning that you graduated from U.A, I wanted to attend the same school like you." Your dad sighed and smiled gently at your response. After emptying out the last box you had, you stretched my arms out, hearing the satisfying sound of your joints popping.

"Besides, I've heard a lot about Shiketsu High. How the school's practically old-fashioned as hell, they don't even allow their students to date. I wouldn't wanna go to a school where I couldn't have a relationship with anybody outside of school. That would just be so boring." Your dad let out a chuckle and walked over to you, setting his hand on top of your head.

"You're just like your mother. Her parents never even allowed her to date me when we first met. And yet, she managed to work things out in the end. She was strong, yes. But, at heart, she was always a hopeless romantic." You looked up at your dad before breaking out into a fit of laughter, taking your dad aback.

"HAHAH! YOU MAKE IT SOUND AS IF SHE PASSED AWAY OR SOMETHING!" You guffawed, clutching your stomach.

"WELL, YOUR MOTHER’S ALWAYS AWAY FOR HER PHOTOSHOOTS, AND I HARDLY EVER GET TO SEE HER WHEN SHE’S GONE!” He protested. You laughed even harder as you began rolling around on your bedroom floor. Your mother worked as a model for a famous fashion designer who just so happened to be from Japan, as well. She was currently away on a business trip in Hawaii for another photoshoot that lasted until the end of the week. After what seemed like forever, you finally collected yourself and wiped away a stray tear from your eye.

"Don't worry. She said she'd be here in the next few days or so to see the new house. You'll be fine til then, Dad." You assured him, patting him the the back. He just stared back at you and was pouting like a child. Just then, you both heard the sound of his phone vibrating as he reached into his pocket to answer it. After exchanging a few words, he hung up the phone and ruffled your hair.

"That was Best Jeanist. I gotta head down to his agency for a patrol. I’ll see you at dinner.” Your dad told you.

"Alrighty, then." With that, you waved your dad goodbye as he exited your room and you started to remove the empty boxes from your room. Moments after he left, your doorbell rang. You made your way down the stairs to the front door as you happily swung it open, greeting them kindly. You were met by Mina, who you instantly became friends with on your first day at U.A High, and a few others you had also met during your first week.

"Hey, Mina! Glad you could come!" You said, giving her a tight hug.

"No sweat, Y/N! I brought along a few other friends you might like." She unwrapped her arms around you as her friends began introducing themselves to you. A boy with short gold hair and a black lightning-shaped streak on the left side of his bangs pointed his thumb at himself.

"I'm Denki Kaminari! It's nice to finally meet you. Gotta say, you look real pretty up close." He complimented, making you chuckle. The tall kid next to Kaminari waved politely at you with a grin.

"Hi, I'm Hanta Sero." He said. You waved back at him, returning the smile. There were two boys standing next to each other, both with unruly spiky hair. One red, and the other, blonde.

"I'm Eijiro Kirishima. We're glad to have you at U.A High!" The boy known as Kirishima greeted with a smile. You noticed his teeth were sharp and pointed that it reminded you of a shark. Now, that you thought about it, he almost resembled one, too. Kirishima pointed this thumb at the boy next to him, who had a scowl on his face as his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

"And this angry dude is Katsuki Bakugou. He has that look on his face because it took us a while to convince him to come with us." He explained.

Not one to be around people, I see.

"Shut the hell up, Shitty Hair. Just be glad that I agreed to even be here with you idiots." He growled.

So rude...

"Come on in, you guys. Have a seat in the living room while I grab us some drinks." You said to them, making your way into the kitchen to grab a couple drinks to serve. As they shut the front door and sat on the couch, you came back with some cans of melon soda you had bought the other day at the convenience store and handed each of them one, thanking you as they cracked their cans open.

"So, how do you like your new place? You still getting settled in?" Kirishima asked, noticing the few boxes left on the kitchen counter.

"Just a few things here and there that need to be unpacked. Other than that, it's going well. I'm loving it so far." You took a sip of your beverage and sat next to Mina.

"What made you wanna move to Japan in the first place?" Sero questioned.

"My dad used to live here when he was my age and attended U.A., as well. He and Best Jeanist actually knew each other back in the day. Pretty cool if you ask me."

"Wait, your dad knows Best Jeanist?!" You nodded your head at Mina and smiled.

“Yup. They were friends until my dad moved to America. Still are to this day. You all probably know him as the Body Art Hero, Acat.” You replied.

“YOUR DAD’S A HERO?!” Mina, Kaminari, and Sero all yelled simultaneously.

“That’s right. Like the kid with the candy cane hair in our class, Todoroki, my father is also a Pro Hero.” You said calmly.

“So, your dad’s part of the top ten heroes in America and he’s friends with Japan’s no.3? That’s so cool!” Kaminari nudged Bakugou on the arm with a smirk.

“Hey, Bakugou. Since her dad knows Best Jeanist, maybe she can intern with him, too.” He suggested. Bakugou looked at the golden-haired boy with a scowl.

“Tch. Yeah, right. As if I’d wanna deal with another damn extra from our class.“ he retorted.

“Actually, you know what? On the topic of that, I might just end up working in Best Jeanist’s agency, as well. It’s only understandable since my dad works alongside him now.” You said, spitefully. There was a visible vein that popped off the side of Bakugou forehead as he clenched his fists, crushing the empty can in the process.

“Let’s get one thing straight, newbie. It doesn’t matter if your daddy’s a popular hero from another country, I am and always will be better than any of you. Even if they decide to put you in the same agency, you’ll never beat me, got it?” He snarled. You closed your eyes and casually took a sip of your drink.

“Bakugou, it wouldn’t hurt to be a tad bit nice .” Kirishima sighed.

“HUH?! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO, SHITTY HAIR?! FUCKING DIE!” He screamed, small explosions popping from his palms. Mina put her hand on your shoulders reassuringly.

“Don’t worry about him, Y/N. You may have been here for only a week, but he’s been like this since school started. You’ll get used to it eventually.” She said. You gently set down your can onto the coffee table and let out a sigh.

Not the first impression I wanted to make…

“Listen here, you damn Pomeranian.” Your hair was shrouding your eyes. You could feel the tension in the air. Bakugou stopped bickering with Kirishima and turned to you upon hearing the nickname you had given him.

“The fuck did you just call me?” He sneered. “I’ll fucking kill-“ before he could finish his threat, you abruptly grabbed Bakugou by the front of his shirt, teleporting from your seat next to Mina within a blink of an eye and catching everyone off guard (think of it as Koro-Sensei traveling at Mach 20). The room fell silent as the other three looked between you and Bakugou.

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn what agency I end up in, whether it’d be Best Jeanist’s or someone else’s. Hell, I honestly couldn’t give a fuck about being the best hero, either. But, let me make something very clear.” You lifted your head to glare at the boy.

“You will not disrespect me or my father in my own house. I don’t care what your intentions are, I will not tolerate that kind of bullshit in my home, got it?” You told the boy in a low, threatening tone. Bakugou didn’t say a word, but simply scoffed and complied when he averted your gaze on him. You let go of his shirt and backed away from him.

“I could easily beat your ass right here, right now. But, I choose not to do that. So, I’ll let you off with a warning. I’m not that intolerant. But, if there were to even be a next time I let you into my house, I will wipe my floors with your face.” After an awkward moment of silence, Kaminari spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Damn, remind me not to piss you off.” He joked. After that scenario, you ended up giving the group a tour of the house and eventually played video games in your living room the rest of the day. Little did you all know, Bakugou had a small hint of pink dusted on his cheeks the entire visit.

That shitty girl…

#bnha bakugou #my hero academia #bakugou x y/n #ashido mina #sero hanta #kirishima eijirou #kaminari denki #bnha x reader #my hero academia imagine #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero fic

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no-reply95 · 3 years

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Jealous Guys

Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now is the different ways jealousy manifested for John and Paul over the course of their friendship.

I’m going to look at John and Paul in turn and have a look at some of the key ways jealousy appeared, before, during and after the Beatles period. This will be a looooong post so if you want to go on deep dive keep reading below.

John

Jealousy was something that John acknowledged as a big part of his personality, as far as I’m aware, he only acknowledged his jealousy publicly in terms of his relationship with Yoko but I believe jealousy was a feature of all of John’s major relationships. John’s first real partnership was with Pete Shotton, his childhood best friend, and Pete has outlined how John’s jealousy and possessiveness was a feature in their friendship with them falling out when Pete first started showing interest in girls and with John acting out when Pete started to spend more time with other friends, instead of him, here Pete recounts John’s reflection on this period of their friendship:

“Years later John confessed to having felt acutely jealous throughout that interlude: “I was scared shitless I’d lost you after our fight in science class, when you starting playing with David Jones. I really thought I’d gone too far with you that time.“

Pete Shotton, John Lennon: In My Life , 1983

Pete’s recollections establish a pattern in John’s life of acting out due to a fear of abandonment and losing those who are closest to him so it’s not surprising that once John had formed a strong bond with Paul that would stir similar fears in him.

Below I’ve categorised the groups of people that were the focus of John’s jealousy and have picked one person from each group as an example:

Family - Jim McCartney

Paul’s family was and continues to be a big part of his life. From the outset of their friendship, John was made aware of how important Jim was to Paul and vice versa. John and Paul had to skip school to hang out together because Jim wouldn’t have John in their house initially and John confessed his resentment of Jim’s influence over Paul’s life. It appears that after some time John grew tired of having to contend with Jim for the position of the most important person in Paul’s life, and this culminated in John giving Paul a pseudo ultimatum as John discussed in 1971:

“But Paul would always give in to his dad. His dad told him to get a job, he fucking dropped the group and started working on the fucking lorries, saying, "I need a steady career." We couldn't believe it… “So I told him on the phone, "Either come or you're out." So he had to make a decision between me and his dad then, and in the end he chose me”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Friends - Mal Evans

Throughout the active years of the band it was typical of them to refer to each other as their best friends and, given the lives they led, I think the simple fact that no one else could understand what it was like to be a Beatle would have meant they all shared a special bond. However, they all had friendships outside of the band and this was something that could cause issues for John when it came to Paul.

According to Tune In, Mal initially became friends with Paul during the band's initial shows at the Cavern Club then, after a suggestion from George, Mal became a part of the Beatles entourage thereafter. Mal had friendships with all the Beatles, as part of their inner circle, but from his comments it appears John took umbrage with the closeness of Mal’s friendship with Paul:

“Paul would suddenly come in with this circle saying, “This is Magical Mystery Tour, will you write that bit?” And I was choked that he’d arranged it all with Mal anyway, for a kickoff, and had all this idea going”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Mal also comes up when John discusses his recollections of the writing of Eleanor Rigby:

“So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,”... “ Now, I sat there with Mal Evans, a road manager who was a telephone installer, and Neil Aspinall, who was a not-completed student accountant who became our road manager. And I was insulted and hurt that he’d thrown it out in the air”...” There might be a version that they contributed, but there isn’t a line in there that they put in.“

Playboy interview, David Sheff 1980

John’s discomfort with the closeness of Paul’s relationship with Mal was something that wasn’t lost on Mal’s wife Lil:

“He was always at their beck and call. He was a nice fella to have around, so much so that it could provoke little jealousies within the band. When I met Yoko years after Mal died, she said John had told her he’d been very jealous at one point of Mal’s relationship with Paul.”

Lil Evans interview with Ray Connolly, 2005

Love interests - Linda McCartney

Throughout their friendship both John and Paul had quite a few love interests, which (to varying degrees) prompted jealousy between them.

Although John displayed jealousy of a few of Paul’s love interests this was no more apparent than with Paul’s first wife Linda McCartney, which is confirmed by both John’s words and actions regarding Linda and her partnership with Paul:

“"Then Klein informed Lennon that McCartney had secretly been increasing his stake in Northern Songs. ‘John flew into a rage,’ recalled Apple executive Peter Brown. ‘At one point I thought he was really going to hit Paul, but he managed to calm himself down.’ One unconfirmed report of this meeting had Lennon leaping towards Linda McCartney, his fists raised in her face"

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money

"Int: When did you first meet her [Linda]? John: The first time I saw her was after that press conference to announce Apple in America. We were just going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive, I wondered what he was bothering having her in the car for. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him."

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

“I was reading your letter and wondering what middle aged cranky Beatle fan wrote it... "What the hell—it’s Linda! . . . Linda— if you don’t care what I say—shut up!—let Paul write—or whatever.”

"Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you’ll be out then"

Draft letter from John Lennon to Linda McCartney, circa 1971

"The presumption is a) the Beatles would get together again or are even thinking about it and b) if they got together, John and Yoko split, Paul and Linda split"

John (with Yoko) talks to John Fielding on Weekend World, 1973

"John often speculated on why Paul and Linda remained married while, at the same time, resenting their evident happiness, to the extent that he had Green do a tarot reading to ensure him that Paul and Linda were really secretly miserable and were going to divorce within a year"

According to Fred Seaman and John Green, source

Paul

Of course jealousy wasn't a one-way street in the Lennon-McCartney relationship. Unlike with John, for Paul I'm focusing more on the key people I believe his jealousy, regarding John, was directed to:

Stuart Sutcliffe

John met Stu at Art College and struck up a really close friendship with him. At the point that John met Stu, John had already become friends with Paul so Paul felt threatened when Stu entered the picture:

"When he [Stu] came into the band, around Christmas of 1959, we were a little jealous of him; it was something I didn’t deal with very well. We were always slightly jealous of John’s other friendships.

When Stuart came in, it felt as if he was taking the position away from George and me. We had to take a bit of a back seat."

Paul McCartney, Anthology 2000

"Paul was saying something about Stu’s girl – he was jealous because she was a great girl, and Stu hit him, on stage. And Stu wasn’t a violent guy at all."

John Lennon, 1967 Anthology 2000

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I’d believe him. We were awful to him sometimes. Especially Paul, always picking on him. I used to explain afterwards that we didn’t dislike him, really."

John Lennon, The Beatles Hunter Davies 1968

Yoko Ono

Of all the relationships I've already discussed, the relationship and jealousy displayed from Paul towards Yoko is probably the most widely discussed in Beatles historiography and general discourse. From the official start of Yoko's relationship with John in 1968 it was clear that Paul resented her presence in John's life and her proximity to the band:

"He even sent them [John and Yoko] a hate letter once, unsigned, typed. I brought it in with the morning mail. Paul put most of his fan mail in a big basket and let it sit for weeks, but John and Yoko opened every piece. When they got to the anonymous note, they looked puzzled, looking at each other with genuine pain in their eyes. ‘You and your Jap tart think you’re hot shit’, it said."

Francie Schwartz, Body Count 1972

"Cause she’s [Yoko] very much to do with it from John’s angle, that’s the thing, you know. And I – the thing is that I – there’s— Again, like, there’s always only two answers. One is to fight it, and fight her, and try and get The Beatles back to four people without Yoko, and sort of ask her to sit down at the board meetings. Or else, the other thing is to just realize that she’s there, you know. And he’s not gonna sort of – split with her, just for our sakes."

Paul McCartney, Let It Be Sessions, 1969

"I told John on the phone the other day that at the beginning of last year I was annoyed with him. I was jealous because of Yoko, and afraid about the break-up of a great musical partnership. It’s taken me a year to realise that they were in love. Just like Linda and me."

Paul McCartney, interview with Ray Connolly, 1970

What are the similarities and differences in the way jealousy manifested for John and Paul?

I think it's obvious but bears repeating that both John and Paul displayed jealousy towards other people who they felt would threaten their relationship so that's central to all the instances I have flagged, Jim, Mal, Linda, Stu, Yoko all posed real or imagined threats to John and Paul's partnership.

However, you'll note that I included more sources to display John's jealousy regarding Paul and that I categorised John's jealousy targets whereas I only pulled out two key individuals for Paul, this isn't to say that John was more jealous than Paul was, as jealousy isn't something you can quantify, but to highlight my opinion that Paul's jealousy regarding John was more targeted than John's jealousy regarding Paul. I think what stands out to me is that, I think generally Stu and Yoko are held up as the prime examples of Paul's jealousy of other people getting close to John, as far as we know, Paul never had significant issues with other people who formed close relationships with John like Pete Shotton, Cynthia Lennon, Magic Alex etc., why was that? I think that Paul was more threatened when he felt that John was replacing him so by bringing Stu into the band (even though he wasn't a musician) and Yoko into the studio (one instance where Paul was especially hurt was when John gave Paul's line in The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill to Yoko to sing), Paul perhaps felt that his place as John's primary collaborator was in jeopardy and that he could lose a partnership that had become central to his self-worth as a person - that, I believe, was when his jealousy was most likely to rise to the fore. John, on the other hand, had a much wider range of targets when it came to jealousy regarding Paul, why was John jealous of Linda? Linda wasn't trying to replace John as Paul's collaborator, if anything she wanted the Lennon-McCartney partnership to be stronger. Why was John jealous of Mal? Mal wasn't a musician, Mal was a huge fan of the band and constantly worked to fulfil their requests, so why was John so threatened by his friendship with Paul? For me, John's jealousy regarding Paul was more than just a fear of directly being replaced, I believe John's jealousy was fundamentally triggered by a fear of abandonment. I think the childhood trauma John experienced, of being left by both his parents, meant that whenever any of his close friendships and relationships were threatened, or he felt that someone close to him may leave him, he would act out. John fell out with his childhood best friend Pete when he got a girlfriend, John hit Cynthia when he saw her dancing with Stu, John was rude to several of Paul's love interests and ultimately John never fully accepted Paul's relationship with Linda because, although he could see that she could offer Paul the family life he always wanted, John didn't want Linda to take Paul away and give him a family that meant that Paul would no longer be able to prioritise John in his life as he had in the past.

Ultimately, we'll never know all the ways that jealousy factored into John and Paul's relationship with each other and those around them, as I'm sure it impacted several relationships in more complex ways than I can articulate (i.e. I suspect jealousy played a part in Paul's initial resentment of Brian but they grew closer over time so maybe Paul's jealousy lessened over time or Brian became less of a threat?). I do think it's important to consider that jealousy was present on both sides and was likely a factor in the breakdown of John and Paul's relationship, the breakdown of the Beatles and was a continued factor in disrupting reconciliations between John and Paul into the 70s and 1980.

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #john and paul #paul and linda #john and yoko #jealous guy #linda mccartney #yoko ono #stuart sutcliffe #mal evans #jim mccartney #brian epstein #long post #thoughts

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noonaishere · 2 years

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@luvvvx lol, thank you. I’m glad you like it, it was very difficult considering my cat was assaulting me the whole time I was trying to put it together 🤣🤣 (Sort of like right now, lol)

(Putting a read more because this ended up being longer than I expected)

See it’s actually because I learned from trying - years ago - that I can’t write serially. Like, I can’t just sit down once a week and write a chapter of a fic and upload it and then go off and live the rest of my life and expect to sit down a week later and still have the same level of interest in the project; I still have an unfinished fic on my AO3 that is testament to this. I really envy people that can do that, because unless I ride that hyperfixation wave all the way up to the shore of Actually Finishing Something, it’s never going to get done. (Like, I was one of those students who waited until the last second to do anything because that’s the only time the deadline felt like it was real at all?? If that makes sense lol) This normally manifests in me doing some variation of a Nanowrimo-style thing working on something for a straight month until it’s done and I’m mildly burned out on it and can’t even look at it for a week after.

Basically, I wrote this for every Fri-Sun during May of this year (as I had work from Mon-Thu); then divided it into “parts” for upload (roughly based around scene changes or time jumps); made all the text screenshots (which was probably the worst part, my carpal tunnel was like “SURPRISE BITCH!” from all the typing on my phone and I was like “Dear GOD, no!!”); then I made this tumblr and premade the posts as drafts so they were all in number order and I could add the pictures and/or text after; added all the pictures and text once they were all done; figured out the dates that everything would have to update and then put them into a document (so I would never have to figure them out again because oh my god, that was tedious lol) and copy/pasted the dates into the schedule part of each post and scheduled them.

... then as it started uploading, I realized I needed to have a couple more scenes to make a few points a bit clearer (and I just finished the last one and still have to make a post lol)

So like, it was a lot of work in the behind the scenes sense, but now I get to kind of chill while it updates on its own and enjoy everyone’s reactions to it without the pressure of “Shit, I have to write this week’s thing.”

As for new stories...

I thought of maybe doing kind of a “choose your own adventure” (like a Twine or something) style fic with Ateez where you get to choose which member you have important moments of the story with and which one you end the story with, but that would require writing certain scenes 8 times and that’s..... a lot, lol. So idk about that one. (That might actually be easier if I had someone else to write it with lol)

I also have been having ideas for an original story that takes place in the kpop industry, but that’s not a fanfic, soooo...

I was also thinking of finishing the unfinished fic I mentioned, since I still have most of the original notes and maybe turning it into an enemies to lovers or something? It wasn’t kpop though lol

And then I also have like... four original things that I need to so something with. Like... a something that involves me getting paid for having written it lolol. Like, I’d love to find an artist and do them as webcomics, honestly.

But if you’re interested, I have some older fics on my AO3:

An oc/Deucalion (Teen Wolf) fic. My first one. I think there’s some formatting funkiness in there somewhere, but I might have fixed it? I literally can’t remember anymore. This has smut.

An oc/Loki (MCU) one. This has smut as well. One chapter is just 10k of almost all smut.

An oc/Malachi (Riverdale). This doesn’t have smut, but it’s also the unfinished one.

An oc/real person fic (Henry Cavill), which is only like 30k (smutless), and I wrote it because I wanted to try writing something with the structure of the first season of The Witcher (re: time jumps and that narrative circle).

Soooo, yeah. I tend to jump from fandom to fandom as I find interesting things or get bored of them lol.

I’m not totally sure what I’m going to work on next 🤣

#luvvvx #damnit I was trying to post this before 12 #I rambled a lot I'm sorry lolol #but at least I can finish it since 12 means it's time for my cat's lunchtime dry food #so she'll leave me alone now 🤣🤣🤣

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youarejesting · 4 years

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Blue Side

[Masterlist]

Beta: @nightshadevinter Thank you for reading the rough draft, I know it didn’t end spectacularly but I think I like it better with this ending it sets a tone and leaves you just there. I mean it could have been better but I was starting to dwell on the story far to long and it was making it harder to finish. Networks: @btscreatorscorner @castlebangtan Words: 2.3k Warnings: Blue is a metaphor for Depression Summary: Jhope finds himself always slipping back to the Blue side. (Based on Jhope’s song Blue Side)

Hoseok had always lived two lives. He had the life in the world he was born and grew up in with friends and happiness and the world he discovered along the way full of darkness and sorrow. The world he found was almost always empty and cold, it looked like a frozen tundra. Everything was tinged a slight blue haze and so he un-affectionately called it the ‘Blue side’.

As he grew older he began understanding the Blue side more and more, as he frequently visited the space. Though visited wasn’t quite the word he would use, as he never had control over his visits —If he had the choice he wouldn’t go at all— but there were clauses to each world.

He couldn’t live permanently in one, if he neglected one world too long it took over and he was stuck there for sometimes weeks. He hated the Blue side and tried to stop himself from crossing over but it happened anyway.

When he was in the Blue side he was asleep in the real world and so neglecting the Blue side meant he would be asleep for days, the last time he tried not to go to the Blue side it literally took him and he was gone from the real world for almost a whole month. He called these his ‘Blue Sleeps’

Then there were his phases where he would feel like escaping and would try to stay in the Blue side but he would be forced back. So after many trials and errors he learnt to alternate, every night he went to the Blue side.

But even in the sad cold dystopia that was the Blue side Hoseok created a life for himself, he took care of his vegetable garden in a glass greenhouse and even wrote songs in front of the fireplace. He found himself trying to fill the cold with activities that could make him feel a little less alone.

Since he became a trainee and even when he was on tour every sleep he had would be in the Blue side. This was to maintain some sort of balance between the worlds he couldn’t go MIA for several weeks so he took this as his way to keep the Blue sleep at bay, to keep the darkness and the cold from touching his happy and bright persona.

It wasn’t easy, it almost felt like he was not quite alive or dead, like he was missing important moments with his band members. So, he tried to make the most of the times he had between their work schedule and the few and far between occasions that they got the chance to sleep.

He met Yoongi in the Blue side a few times and he thought he was dreaming but invited him into his home nonetheless.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asked confused and kind of excited

“Dreaming what about you?” Yoongi gave a sigh sitting in the chair by the fire. “Is this your house, it does seem a bit like you”

“Why are you here?”

“I am dreaming,” He sighed

“No, I get that but like what are you doing here?” Hoseok was getting a little frustrated by the older man’s lack of expression; he was just so unresponsive.

“I mean, I am not into being all sentimental and feelings man,” Picking at Hoseok’s armchair he seemed annoyed as well, “I always come here when I am like depressed and stuff”

Something struck a chord with Hoseok, how could he say that nonchalantly, this was the BLUE SIDE, named by him as a child because he always felt a little Blue when he was there and he couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps Yoongi was right in his assumption. Maybe this was a manifestation of the world's sadness, loneliness and depression.

Hoseok woke with a start and went to breakfast, he saw Yoongi pouring himself some coffee looking particularly pale. “Hey man, what did you dream about last night?”

“Uh… I can’t remember” He mumbled

“Hobi, it’s too early to be asking everyone questions like that right now” Namjoon tried to maintain the peace he was the leader after all, and keeping all the members happy meant sometimes making other members follow his directions.

“I just, I saw you in my dream,” Hoseok said, “You were there on the Blue side, you told me you got there sometimes when you feel depressed.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened and he sipped his coffee, trying to play it off saying, “I don’t what you were talking about, I can’t even remember my dream, I didn’t sleep long enough to dream”

“Actually dreams usually occur towards the start and end of your sleep cycle. It's called REM sleep the middle is the deep sleep cycle where you don’t dream” Namjoon began spouting his words of wisdom.

“So what you’re saying is dreams are like the pre-soak and spin cycle and the rinse cycle is deep sleep,” Taehyung’s words made Jungkook’s tired head lift at the odd talk of laundry.

Yoongi didn’t speak of it again and didn’t appear in the Blue side for a long time, Hoseok had started to believe he was in fact dreaming up that the pale rapper had indeed been there. But he saw him again, the two sat and spoke about what this world was each giving their theories and waking up in the reality.

It was normal for Yoongi to appear in the Blue side sometimes and over time he saw many of the other members pop in and out of the world but he was the only one who was a permanent resident, the only one who had made a home and a life in the Blue side.

Whenever he saw his fellow members wandering aimlessly and scared through the cold wasteland he would always invite them in and try his best to cheer them up. He never told the others it was real, the cold, the sadness, the emotions, any bumps and bruises were all real.

The Blue side was as real as the real world and it tried to sucking the life from anyone who stepped inside. Their appearances allowed him to talk through their troubles and in waking life he could help them through things.

Yoongi appeared again after knocking on the door, “your house is getting harder to find, colder too?” Yoongi muttered sitting on the couch.

“You have to open up and talk about your Blue side” Yoongi used the term he had heard many times. “Otherwise we are going to lose you, you are sleeping longer and longer these days”

“I know it’s just every time something happens and I get Blue I fall deeper in the Blue side”

“What makes you feel Blue?”

“I just feel like nobody wants me around, they are just putting up with me?”

“Hey, you know that’s not true,” Yoongi stepped closer, touching Hoseok’s shoulder. The young man didn’t look up so he tilted his head down to catch his eyes. “Right?”

“Yeah I know, I just can’t help the thoughts” he gave a weak smile “what brings you here?”

“The usual digging up the past with my music dealing through the heavy emotions, cried a little while writing a song but on the bright side” he smiled gums showing as he slumped back into a couch. “I will be in the ‘Blue’ with you for a while”

“We will get better soon for now we feel the emotions. It reminds us how special the good times are and how beautiful all our good feelings are,” Yoongi always had such wise words he was always battling his Blue feelings.

But Hoseok was a little jealous, why did Yoongi have the ability to overcome his Blue feelings every time he felt them he wasn’t constantly struggling for control he had moments without a care in the world and other times he was as Blue as could be.

Was it bad that sometimes Hoseok wished Yoongi could stay, trapped like him, the only one who understands him. He shook his head knowing it was bad to think that way, bad to wish Blue upon anyone.

One day Hoseok brought up Blue with the group and said sometimes he felt Blue and would go to the Blue side where he would sometimes meet them. Yoongi corroborated his story and told them the two would often meet within the Blue side.

Jimin had coincidentally found himself within the Blue side that night and was ushered out of the snow by Hoseok who smiled at the lost and nervous young man.

“This is the Blue side isn’t it?”

“It is, but don’t worry, I am here” Hoseok grinned “What brings you to the Blue side Jimin, you can talk to me about anything here?”

“Well, I just get uh upset sometimes about somethings that is all”

“You don’t have to talk about it Jimin, I won’t force you, we can just sit and chat and I can keep you company until the Blue feelings pass.”

Jimin walked around the little home and at Hoseok and gave a small sad smile “You have been here for a long time haven’t you?” Hoseok saw Jimin’s fingers brush the small hand print on the wooden bannister in the home. The imprinted hand had long thin fingers and didn’t fit Jimin’s.

“It’s my second Home, Jimin even in the Blue Side I have little joys, this place is nostalgic and I love the little private home I have even though it is eerie and lonesome”

“I guess I know what you mean, I am upset, but I am happy you are here Hyung” Jimin looked around cautiously “How did you get here, I mean like when did it start?”

“Well I think the Blue Feelings started when I was a teenager, I started discovering people were different and my self esteem was kind of low, it still is sometimes” The man chuckled rubbing the back of his neck. “It was just your everyday Blue feelings but then as time moved on the blue feelings changed as did the intensity of them”

Joining BTS didn’t really help not entirely, though it brought a lot of happiness and fun it also brought a lot of doubt and sadness. I doubted my place, I doubted my abilities compared to the others. I doubted my…” his breath seemed stuck Jimin could tell he was choked up with emotion, “appearance compared to you all”

“Hey,” Jimin tried to interfere but the older young man raised his hand

“No, I know, trust me, I know” He said “Just sometimes your head lies to you, it knows what you hate the most, what you fear and it turns it against you” He sighed, making two mugs of hot tea over the fireplace and pouring them for him and Jimin.

“But everytime things are going good, something comes along and knocks me back. It could be a hashtag or comments, it could be a bad dance practice. Or it could be my head making up problems that aren’t real, making me doubt myself and letting the blue feelings back in.”

“I think I get it” Jimin nodded “I just wish you didn’t have to face it on your own”

“I am never really alone, I always know you are all there for me, plus being here makes it easy to help you all with your Blue feelings when you appear.”

So much was happening, tours and interviews cancelled, their schedule ripped to shreds. The Army felt like they had disappeared and Hoseok fell asleep one afternoon. He woke in the Blue side a Blizzard like storm howling outside his small home and he sat in his arm chair waiting, he felt Blue, he felt so icy Blue that he felt numb. So he just sat in his chair and waited.

He spent his time pondering why he was so upset and it all stemmed with just feeling like he had no control over what was happening coupled with the disappointment of not being able to do what he loved and see the Army. He felt like a failure letting people down and sitting in his home for weeks on end and he just didn't know what to do.

There was a knocking on the door. It was fierce and when he opened the door he saw his fellow band members all standing there. “Hoseok, you have been here for too long, we got lucky walking through the dark until we saw a faint light”

Hoseok rushed to make tea and they all gathered around the fire, and Taehyung broke the silence, tears falling down his cheeks. “I hate it”

“Taehyungie, what is wrong?” Hoseok grabbed at the boy and pulled him onto his lap rocking him slowly.

“When the Army aren’t their it sometimes feels like I don’t have any love” He sniffed “I know its shallow to think and it’s something stupid to get upset over…”

“Hey, if something makes you upset it is not silly or trivial. It means something to you,” He said “even if other people don’t understand, it doesn’t make it any less important to you.”

“I see no point getting out of bed if we aren’t working to make the Armies happy” Seokjin said

“Well maybe that’s what we need to do, we have all this time on our hands, let’s use it well” Hoseok clapped his hands together and stood up pulling Taehyung to his feet also. “Let’s make another album. “We can’t waste time and we are sad but think of all the Army who are feeling Blue and are stuck in the Blue Side because they can’t see us”

The group sat discussing new ideas, their feelings and anything that came to mind until the storm stopped and the sun came out thawing some of the ice and snow. They all woke in their bed feeling a little warmer and Hoseok had a bit of closure that he was never truly alone and the Blue side wasn’t all that scary or lonely. Even the Blue side could hold joy and laughter if you had the right company.

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rakuyokoyo · 3 years

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I was able to guess Bakugo’s hero name correctly a year ago (BNHA293 Spoilers)

So, uh... I don’t know if anyone else follows me here anymore (I know I haven’t been updating Romance Dawn but that’s on its way, 2020′s just been a shite year) but if you’ve followed me for a while, you know I’ve talked a TON about how my ideas in One Piece actually manifested itself into the canon, YEARS after I initially conceptualized them. I can’t talk specifically about that because it’s spoilers, but one thing I can talk about is the reveal of Bakugo’s hero name.

Obvious chapter 293 spoilers.

—

If you’ve never read any of my stories before—hello, I’m Kana and I write stories here. My BNHA story hasn’t been uploaded formally yet because I’m still in the editing process, but I’ve written a lot of posts about it here, here, and here.

I woke up early today to do some schoolwork and I saw a Tweet that discussed this upcoming weeks’ spoilers, which included Bakugo’s hero name. And imagine my surprise when I first read the comments, then the panel. Turns out, I was actually able to guess Bakugo’s hero name almost a year and a half ago.

(Yes, she has a lot of nicknames for them).

On the right hand side, the created date shows July of 2019 and that’s the earliest record I have for calling Bakugo ‘Dynamite’. The regular font (such as ‘Small Might’) shows some minor, fun nicknames that Kana calls the boys, whereas the bolded ones are the ‘real’ nicknames she addresses everyone by. The fact that the MAIN nickname Kana always called Bakugo by ended up becoming his actual hero name in the canon BLOWS MY MIND and I’m so happy because I think it can be used in a significant way in the story.

—

So in my last post too, there were a bunch of (omitted), and that’s because I was hiding parts of the plot and Bakugo and Kana’s nicknames for each other. In this one, I actually use ‘Dynamight’ instead of ‘Dynamite’. It’s not clear in the Japanese since both sound the same, so we’ll have to wait for the official translations to find out which one it’s going to be. I initially started off by calling Bakugo ‘Dynamite’, and then ‘Dynamight’ later on because I was debating on which one suited him more. Now, I won’t have to wonder because I can just go with whatever Hori decides to make canon!

The first screenshot is showing the part of the chapter that I wrote in my post:

(and as you can see, the created date is August of 2019—I unfortunately no longer have the modified dates for the chapters since I re-edit all my chapters constantly).

And the second part that was completely omitted in the post is here:

Please excuse the god-awful writing, this is why I never post drafts ( ; ω ; ). There’s a SHITTON more examples I could potentially show, but I’m sure you can tell that my editing skills aren’t the best and I think you get the point. When I search up ‘Dynamite’, all the chapters on the left sidebar have moments where Kana’s called Bakugo ‘Dynamite’—and it’s a lot of chapters.

(I hadn’t realized I even had a chapter called ‘Dynamite’...)

—

I even talked about this AS RECENTLY AS LAST WEEK with a friend on Discord.

My username ‘rkyky’ is ‘rakuyokoyo’ without any of the vowels and I can’t modify anything on Discord without there being an ‘(edit)’ next to the message so you know at the very least, this is true and not modified after the spoilers.

—

So yeah. I know this isn’t that special and I’m sure somebody somewhere else has also come up with the same nicknames, but as someone who writes and thinks about these characters 24/7, watching headcanons become ACTUAL canons is something that’s exciting and a bit frustrating at the same time, because it would’ve been INSANE if I’d published it first. But alas, my slow writing cripples me as always (ಥ﹏ಥ)

The new hero movie about the Three Musketeers also gave me a heart attack because I thought their theme was going to overlap with mine, but it didn’t. There’s a specific team name I’m going to use to address a team consisting of Kana, Deku, Todoroki, and Bakugo that starts with J and ends with ts. Feel free to guess!

I hope this was somewhat of an interesting read for you guys! My Koyo Predicts also seems to be going well, so I guess we’ll see what ends up sticking or not. To be COMPLETELY honest, I kind of wish his hero name was Ground Zero or something else, because I wanted Dynamite/Dynamight to be personal between Kana and Bakugo, not to mention how I’m sure every BTS fan will now equate Bakugo to the song, Dynamite... but I guess I’ll take what I get.

Meanwhile, please feel free to check out my One Piece story, or the movie spinoff of my BNHA story called Torch:Bearers!

Till next time,

-Koyo

#mha293 #bnha293 #dynamite #dynamight #bnha #mha #deku #bakugo #bakugou #bnhaoc #mhaoc #todoroki #hero name #tbenotes #i cant believe this actually happened #koyopredicts

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kittyspring-creates · 3 years

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anyone who knows me knows I’m obsessed with werewolves. And a female werewolf makes me blush. So heres the rough draft of the first chapter, introduction to the town before the actual story begins

Oregan is made up of small towns, surrounded by forest life. Social communities that take pride in knowing one another. Crime spreads through the state regardless of the friendly atmosphere. Petty crimes, sometimes domestic crimes. But nothing as horrific as what's been happening in one of the bigger cities. Almost it's own big time concrete jungle. It was almost fitting a killer would manifest in such an area.

When the first body was found just outside the town, a fear ran through the police on the scene. Laying in a bloody pile in the grass was a married man. His face red and stained with what use to pump through his veins. His clothes scattered around the area, showing off the animalistic scratches. The flesh torn and the torso ripped open. The only thing missing was a heart, cleanly removed. The report came back as an animal attack and the body cleaned then returned to the family. No investigation was made. Not even when a second body was found a few weeks later.

The second victim a married man. Claw marks littered his body and left a sizable hole on his chest. The officers around the area ruled it as another animal attack. Requesting safety measures to be taken and a man hunt to start for the beast. A restriction of civilians in the forest was put in effect and a team of officers and hunters were put together. Eventually turning up nothing. Eventually the hunts were called off. With no more accidents the voluntaries returned to their every day lives. The restrictions were still in place as a precaution. But the county felt the danger had passed with only two tragedies in it's wake. That was until a very unwelcomed man rolled into town.

The sheriff of the town was given a heads up that the dc office was sending people over. That an agent from their sector was interested in the events. The man was disgruntled about the news. Knowing that an up roar would manifest once the DC official stepped into the police station.

John Doggett, dropped the phone on the receiver. Letting out a low grunt as he looked at the black object. A headache starting to form before the trouble even entered his quiet town. He ran a hand down his face, pressing his thumb into his cheek and dragging it over to his mouth. He let the limb fall to the arm of his chair. A gentle tapping came from his door. A tone he was familiar with. "Come in Monica" he spoke out. His voice rough with tired annoyance at what was to come. The door opened a sliver and a tall woman stepped into the small office. She gave a nervous smile to the man sitting behind his desk. "I have that field report from the jerkins" she began. Closing the door behind her, she held out a piece of paper. Looking it over to reference the information. "Nothing but fauna they said. Then Marcus shot one and Dave wrote out a report. Then... officer Scully fined him for hunting out of season." She summarized then placed the paper on the mans neat surface. He took in a long breath then reached for it.

The woman raised a brow as she looked him over. Taking in his expression. "You look troubled John" she pointed out. He let go of the paper and turned to her. "I am. I just got off the phone with Violent Crimes. They're sending a few agents over to investigate the deaths" he confessed to the officer. Leaning back in his chair a little as he looked up at her. She tilted her head slightly, her dark locks swaying with the movements. "But those were animal attacks" she reasoned to no one. "That's what I thought. But some big shot from DC thinks otherwise. He's gonna start a panic" he raised his voice slightly and the woman smiled. "Are you sure that's the issue and not a bit of guilt for chopping the deaths up to accidents" she frowned her brows in worry at her own words. The man glared passed her. "I'll be damned if there's a murderer running around under my nose. Or being incompetent" he mumbled the last part. Confessing a little unwillingly his real trouble.

Monica let out an appreciative noise. "John no one could ever think that. Everyone here thought it was an animal attack. Even I think it has to be a mountain lion. Besides what evidence does this agent have about the case. Their probably bored and looking for anything to get out of the city" she reasoned for him but he was unconvinced by her words. "He's gonna bring up the lack of autopsies. I should of had Scully look the bodies over" he spoke his thoughts. "And what create panic for no reason. Take a breath John, why don't you come out with me and the girls tonight" she offered, earning a smile from the serious man. "I don't think I fit in" he answered. He Stood up from the chair and walked around the objects in the room. Monica fallowed his movement and headed for the door. "Regardless If I caught it or not there will be an uproar. The agent will be here later tonight or in the morning" he warned, reaching for the door handle for her. He opened the door and she nodded. "I'll drink lightly tonight, compile everything I can on the incidents tomorrow" she promised, stepping out of the office. The door was closed after her in a silent goodbye.

With the news of the coming trouble, Monica found it hard to keep her mind on the night. Despite being a tight community they did have a red light district. A literal street full of clubs and pubs. A gay bar at the end and a 90's themed go go dance across the street. A place she usually loved. Unwinding on a Saturday night with her coworker and her friends. But the only thing on her mind was the case. She rubbed her thumb over her gin atonic, catching the condensation on the glass. Staring off at the wall, lost in thought. Till she was called. A soft voice spoke her name and she looked over at the seat next to her. A woman with piercing blue eyes stared at her. "Monica, what's wrong you're a thousand miles away" she asked, concern rather then drunken joy in her voice.

The raven haired woman forced a smile, thinning her lips by accident. "I- it's john" she began. Getting cut off by a a few 'oooo's. One more prominent then the rest. "OOoo man troubles" a woman with a thick British accent called out form her other side. The skinny gal sat down with two other woman. Her open backed, golden dress hanging off her body like she purposely bought a size to big. She set down two margarita glasses. Sliding one over to the strawberry blond beside Monica. "Uck, men are nothing but trouble. Like this guy keeps coming into the library and won't leave me alone. Even when I'm in the restricted section updating our ever evolving computers. There he is waiting for me" a blond woman pouted. Sighing out her frustration as she looked at the low spirited woman.

"Sounds like you need an officer Leyla" the British woman gestured to the other two sitting by her. Only the one drinking a margarita smiled. "Or a restraining order, that's a stalker Leyla" she added after taking a sip. She turned her attention back to Monica. "What's wrong" she asked again. "It's these deaths, the two men. Someone thinks their um not right" she tried to phrase. Not wanting to give information away to the three woman not police officers. "What, aren't they animal attacks. Of course their not right, the thing hasn't been caught ha" the British woman scuffed. "Right Dana" she gestured to the strawberry blond. The woman looked annoyed at being called out. "I don't know, I haven't seen a single body. I couldn't tell you anything about the cause of death" she informed. "Look whatever is bothering Doggett he's a big boy he can handle it himself" the silent woman spoke up from the end of the small table. She stood up and grabbed the blonds arm beside her. Pulling her out of the seat and on her feet. "Enough work lets get drunk and regret it in the morning" she laughed, causing Leyla to giggle.

"I'll drink to that" the British woman gobbled down what she could of her drink then stood up with the others. The three rushed away from the table harboring their reality and dived onto the dance floor. Dana giggled at them. She tossed her hair back with a shake of her head. Her smile fell as she looked at her friend. Seeing her worry undimmed by the conversation. "Don't listen to Phoebe, we all know men are play things to her." She scuffed, moving to take a sip of her margarita. With the wild women gone from the table, Monica turned to her co worker. She placed her hand on the drink and lowered it. The action confused the smaller. Before she could ask Monica began to tell her. "Someone from violent crimes is coming in tomorrow, they believe these animal attacks are really murders. John doesn't want someone stirring up trouble" she quickly told. Dana looked her over, her buzzed state fading with the news.

"Really I think he's beating himself up, chopping everything up to an animal attack instead of investigating further" Monica continued with a sigh. She looked down at the drink she held, staring at the bottom as she thought things over. Dana placed her hand on the woman's wrist, rubbing her thumb over the exposed skin. No words were spoken in the moment. The two officers sitting in the news of what will come. Their drinks long forgotten in contemplation.

As the night raged on Monica became to tired to continue their girls night. She called a cab and the group waited with her. Seeing her off when the car pulled up. They continued to wave even when she wasn't in sight. Dana watched longer then the others. Feeling the fear of what was coming. "Ello earth to Dana" her friend called for her. She turned to look at the group, her smile long gone. The thin woman raised her brow and crossed her arms. "Are you alright" Leyla asked in her ever questioning voice. She reached out for the older woman to check on her. "I'm fine" she obviously lied. The brunette rolled her eyes as she scuffed. The action mirrored by the woman in gold. Dana took in a deep breath. "Come on what did Monica say to put you in the glooms" Phoebe demanded. But the woman didn't answer her question. "We need to rein in our activities" she said instead. "No more hunting deer. We stick to smaller prey like rabbits and we leave no carcasses" she warned. Her voice stronger then it had been. "What are you talking about" her friends questioned.

"But Dana the blood moon is in cycle, you know what that does to us" Leyla tried to explain. Looking scared as she glanced at the moon in the night sky. A pink shade almost visible to her trained eyes. "I know, this couldn't of come at a worse time. But an investigator is coming to town. I don't want any of us discovered" the small woman whispered to them. Stepping closer to the group. They nodded at her. Conforming they will obey. "Fine when will they be here" Phoebe did little to hide her anger at the new rules. "Tomorrow" they were informed. "Tomorrow not tonight" she asked with a sly smile. "Yes why" Dana mirrored the smile, already knowing what was coming. The British woman reached down and lifted her foot off the ground. Taking off her heels. As she did so the other woman fallowed.

"One last night of un tamed fun, we rush through the trees till we hit the valley" she pointed out to the woods they were not allowed to be in anymore. Dana removed her heels, looking down the road for on lookers. The group buzzed with anticipation for her answer. Her smile grew and she nodded at them, shaking her bouncy hair excitedly. Taking one last look around the road, the four raced to the trees. Disappearing into the forest. Their bare feet hitting the ground hard. Tearing up the dirt and grass with each sprint.

It was the last thing Dana remembered. The feeling of dirt between her toes, wind rushing passed her ears. The feeling of her heart beat quickening. Her friends letting out small howls and giggles. Then darkness. A slight chill and the absents of familiar scents. An indication she was alone. Until she heard a gathering of voices. Deep and frightened. She snapped open her eyes, seeing the forest ground where she laid. The grounds contents sticking to her form. Her black dress nowhere to be seen. The voices got louder words became more distinct to her. She sat up quickly, leaves falling from her soiled hair. Her body covered in dirt and drying blood. Her hands to her forearm coated in the mixture. She gasped at the sight, her attention caught by the cracking of branches on the floor. The men were getting closer to her. She scurried to her dirty feet.

Her legs running once she was up. If she was chased there was no way anyone could keep up. Her speed reaching higher then the average person. She listened out to the forest. Searching for her friends, but she could not find them in the nearly dead night. She made her way as close to her apartment as she could. Cautiously she exited the trees and scurried to the building. Keeping watch out for anyone. She snuck in the back. Poking her head in to see if anyone was inside. The hall way was empty. Quickly she made her way up the stairs of the building. Making her way to her floor and her door. The wood unlocked as she pushed it open then slammed it closed. Tossing herself against it she let out a deep breath. "Auh that was close" she told herself. Once the danger had passed, the threat of being seen. She looked down at herself. Taking in how dirty she was from the forest. She inspected her arms. Letting them drop as she huffed out. Annoyed by the night.

#txf #au #werewolves #blood warning #dana scully #monica reyes #John Doggett #the x files #txf fanfic

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flutteringphalanges · 4 years

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Summary: “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”

((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))

Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Rating: M *THIS CHAPTER HAS SMUT*

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Oh god, it’s officially, this story is M and I wrote my first actual smut scene. I’m so nervous my stomach is flip flopping. Thank you for all of your support! I could really use some feedback on this one, guys! Like, ah! This was different! I hope you enjoy it! If you don’t want to read the smut, stop reading after the italicized part and pick back up on chapter eight whenever I finish that! Okay, I hope you enjoy! -Jen

Chapter Seven

"If it hurts too much, we can try again tomorrow."

Dracula's words seemed distant to Agatha as she bit down on her lower lip, her injured hand grasping the wooden stake. Three weeks had passed since the incident and it had been the vampire's suggestion that she work on regaining the strength she once possessed. He'd even gone so far as to give her a stake-a humorous take at inspiration, to squeeze in order to test her muscles. It hurt. Like Hell. Every fiber from the tips of her fingers to her palm burning. But she kept on despite this. Van Helsings weren't weak and she sure wasn't going to be the first one.

"Good," Dracula coached. "You're getting stronger." His lips curved into a smile as she met his gaze, her forehead speckled with droplets of sweat. "Perhaps I should start becoming a little nervous again."

"Your sarcasm needs as much work as my hand." She snorted, rolling her eyes as she loosened her hold. "I like to visualize thrusting this through your chest."

"Whatever motivates you, Agatha," the vampire smirked. "I would expect nothing less."

She huffed softly, the pale purple of her dress complimenting her fair complexion. It was surprisingly comfortable and not overly elegant-something she had expected when it came to the Count and his taste for the finer things in life. And of the few he had given to her, this one was her favorite. Though, she did her best not to overly flatter him. He was still the enemy. The target. And she kept that in mind. Even if the thought did occasionally slip the forefront of her mind.

"So, what are your plans for today, hm?" Dracula eyed her curiously. In a way, it was almost an inside joke at this point. There wasn't much in the castle to do and though Agatha swore each day would be her last, she had yet to leave. "Any new plots? Motivations?"

"As if I would ever share them with you." She responded curtly, pretending to be mildly interested in her piece of wood. "Did you find the books I requested?"

"Ah, so I've become your servant now, have I?" The vampire mused, leaning back in his chair. "First-no, twice I've healed you now, provided you with clothing and food, and now you ask for reading materials?" She gave him a look and he smirked. "I would forget about your precious books even though you have an entire library here at your disposal."

"We have different tastes," Agatha merely shrugged. "And since I'm being held captive, I don't think it's too much to ask."

"Perhaps I should've purchased a dictionary so you could've read up on the difference between captivity and free will." The Count snorted, shaking his head. "Honestly, Agatha, sometimes I question you."

"Question me about what?" She asked in genuine curiosity.

"Everything," he replied. "Take that as an insult or a compliment is your choice. But I'd personally think of it as a good thing."

Agatha eyed him for a moment before looking away. Sometimes she found herself questioning him. Had she really stayed in the castle for this long? It was hard to keep track of time some days. Dracula tended to keep things in the dark, torches being the only light to brighten what little space they cast down upon. There was one way to know. A way she very much didn't like or approve of.

"I'll be hunting tonight." Dracula informed her, rising from where he sat. "I shouldn't be too long."

She knew what that meant. He already had someone or several people in mind. The vampire was calculated, meticulous. Dracula knew who he wanted and when he wanted them and she truly despised it. The loss of innocent life. Absentmindedly, her fingers began to tap on the table, dangerously close to the stake. But even she knew that for whatever reason, she had no intentions on using it.

"Don't let them suffer." It was an odd request, before she'd spat at him to refrain from killing to begin with. What was she becoming? "If you must, have mercy."

Now the vampire even looked somewhat taken aback by her words. "I let them dream," the Count replied. "It's as humane as one can get when taking their life. In the end, wouldn't you wish the same?"

"When I take my final breath, I want it to be quick and painless." Agatha said, locking her eyes on his. "I don't think I even wish to know what is happening. Dreams can be a nightmare on their own. I'd rather fade away into the thoughtlessness of the unknown."

"No white light? No ringing bells as you arrive at your believed gates of the Silver City?" He inquired with a small smile. "My, what an interesting nun you were indeed."

"I've been told that quite a lot." Agatha answered with a small, half smile. "Isn't that the reason you spared me?"

"There is not a singular reason for me deciding to save you." Dracula replied simply as he fetched his cape. "You are a rarity of your species, Agatha. Like a fine aged wine. And I quite like that about you."

"But you don't drink." She replied, cocking an eyebrow.

"Wine," he grinned. "And as much as I love our conversations, the moon is full and night only lasts for so long." The vampire seemed to study her for a moment before speaking once more. "Goodbye, Agatha, I suppose I shall see you shortly."

"Don't get caught up in the Sun," she merely smirked. "Ashes aren't the easiest to sweep up."

And with a quiet snort, the nun watched as he disappeared. Something in her stomach twisted. A rather strange feeling manifesting from within as she rose from her chair. But the cool draft from the castle halls soothed her troubled mind.

Agatha wrung out water from a cloth she had soaking in a bucket and dabbed at the beads of sweat on her grandfather's brow. Abraham Van Helsing's chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his lips speckled with blood. Tuberculosis. She knew how dangerous it was. How infectious the disease could be. But she wasn't about to let him die alone. Not after everything.

"Agatha."

The name came out as a croak and she couldn't tell if he was addressing her or mindlessly saying the word. She gripped his hand, feeling how hot and clammy his skin was. He smelled of death. A sickening stench. But she swallowed the bile in the back of her throat. Down, down to the pit of her stomach.

"Yes, Grandfather?" She whispered, hearing her own emotion in her voice. She had to remain strong. Abraham hated weakness. And in the end, she would give him what he desired.

"Don't…" He heaved before hacking up another spray of bright red blood. "Don't let him win…"

"Who?" She said, leaning in closer as his tone grew faint. "Who shouldn't I let win?"

"The vampire," Abraham coughed. "Dracula...no matter what, destroy him. Do what I…" He was panting, struggling as his lungs fought against his own body. "...Finish what I couldn't."

"I promise, Grandfather." Agatha murmured, pressing her forehead to his still hand. "I'll take down Count Dracula even if it kills me. You have my word…"

It was the sound of howling that caused Agatha to sit upright in her chair. She sucked in a breath, nearly knocking a book onto the floor that she had been reading. Had she really fallen asleep? As she rose from her spot, the castle doors flew open and there Dracula stood. Stripped down. Completely, utterly naked. Their eyes locked onto one another and, as if drawn to him by an unknown power, she drew closer. Fainter and fainter become the words of her grandfather. A dream lost as something else surfaced in her mind.

It reminded her of the night back at St. Mary's Convent. The black wolf with the soulless eyes. Agatha stepped forward and hesitantly reached out a hand. Dracula remained still as she touched his chest, the thick slime of carnage coating her skin like that of a newborn babe. It was surprisingly warm, the scent strong. But not as foul as she had expected. No. Earthy. Wet. And her fingers traced lightly over his flesh, creating shapes that held no given name.

"You're a monster." But there was surprisingly no malice in her tone. "A beast."

"I am," the vampire agreed. "Are you frightened?"

"No," Agatha shook her head, finally meeting his gaze. "No, I'm not."

This time he touched her, hands moving to slide the shoulders of her dress down. Her skin was creamy, but held more blush than his ever would. She was alive after all. Dracula could hear Agatha's heart rate begin to increase, the succulent vein that was her jugular throbbing just enough to where he could visibly watch it thrum against her throat. He paused momentarily, dark eyes holding her blues.

"I could kill you right where we stand now." His voice was low, calm. "Break you in two. Drain you dry of every drop of your blood." The Count's index finger trailed down the curve of her cheek. "You should be terrified of me."

"I've survived with you this long, haven't I?" She countered, inhaling deeply. "And I could've easily killed you as well." He smirked at her words. "So it seems we've spared each other."

"For the time being," he answered.

"For the time being," she agreed.

When his fingers undid the back of her dress with such precision, Agatha didn't protest. Unlike before when she stood naked before him, she didn't cover herself. Dracula's tongue trailed across her skin like a serpent, flicking against the perk bud on her right breast. She trembled, but it wasn't in fear. Far, far from it.

"Agatha…"

His mouth brushed against her stomach, cool air from his whispers bringing forth goosebumps. He was moving slow. So slow. Whether or not he was doing it on purpose, she wasn't sure. It was violent or done in fury like the first time. And when his hands went to part her legs, she let out a breathless gasp.

"Bed…" She managed to choke out as he looked up at her in amusement. "Move to…" Christ, she couldn't even get a sentence out. The bastard had bewitched her. "I'll…"

"I won't let you fall." Dracula finished as if reading her mind. "Let me take control."

Control. Like Hell she'd give him the upper...oh. OH. Agatha couldn't stifle back the moan that escaped deep from within her throat as Dracula drug his tongue against the sensitive, pink slit. The Count supported her with one arm as he nuzzled his face against her. Her toes curled tightly together and she whimpered. Whimpered like a frightened animal that was hunted by a hungry wolf.

"Please…" She swallowed, so close on the edge. "I need…"

"Hm?" Dracula paused, seemingly delighted by the former nun's state. "What do you need Agatha?" He touched her gently. Teasingly soft. Testing her. "You're quite hard to understand."

"You." She finally forced out through her teeth. "I need you!"

Apparently that was all the Count needed to hear. Swept up as if she was as light as a feather and whisked her away. Dracula laid her spread eagle across the bed. It was only then that Agatha realized how hard the vampire's length had gotten. He loomed over her studying his prize. Before she could utter another plea, he plunged himself deep within her core. She gasped, arching her back as he began to thrust, both of his hands pinning her wrists to the mattress.

It wasn't right. It was so wrong. So wrong that it was right. So very, very right. And Agatha relished in it. Her eyes closed as the sound of her heart racing filled her ears. She grew closer. Ever so closer. Right to the edge. And as his name hung to the very tip of her tongue, Agatha Van Helsing felt the sharp, white hot pain of fangs piercing into her neck.

And her eyes flew wide open.

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #A Bad Moon Rising

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uozlulu · 4 years

Text

@sestet asked to see the mall earthquake scenes I scrapped from the first draft of that TodoBaku soulmate AU fic. So I’m going to post them under the cut with additional commentary for context.

Please keep in mind everything below the cut comes from a first draft so it’s sloppy and rough because I don’t go back and rewrite/tweak/edit until after the whole first draft is done.

BnHA/MHA manga spoilers may apply

In context, this fic is a 110,000+ fic that starts when the soulmate connection manifests and so far extends well into third year (and will probably finish a while after graduation).

The soulmate connection is an ability to sense your soulmate’s emotional state at all times. If your emotions are identical then the soulbond, called the resonance, will vibrate and increase your ability to use your quirk. In romantic situations there’s a hum more than a vibration, which does not increase your quirk.

These scenes take place in third year. At this point in the story, Todoroki’s been rebelling by wearing a ring for a long while, Bakugou and Todoroki have been dating for a few months or so. Bakugou’s mentor right now is Miruko and Todoroki’s mentor right now is Gang Orca. Todoroki also spent some time in second year having Present Mic as a mentor during some Council shenanigans. Bakugou, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu are the Big Three. Midoriya ran off to deal with AFO and dropped out of high school on his eighteenth birthday. Todoroki told Endeavor his plans to be an underground hero in a dramatic hospital room confrontation, and Bakugou’s been on a trajectory to mature in such a way by the end of the fic he’s not as King Explosion Murder as he was as a first year. That way all three of them have the dream they started out with on day one changed by the end of the fic. Best Jeanist also turned into a nomu at one point and was declared dead later. Bakugou, Todoroki, and Yaoyorozu have been helping keep an eye on Eri, who wasn’t really prepared for Midoriya to just disappear, but has been coping with it since. Also, Natsuo is with the League of Villains after Dabi kidnapped him to save him from Council shenanigans the previous fall or so. Dabi died almost a year ago. The Todoroki siblings know Dabi was Touya. Not sure how much of that will be relevant to these sections but I figured they were some high points that might get referenced briefly or eluded to.

This first version of the mall earthquake scenario is set just before Christmas in the story and about two months after Bakugou and Todoroki had their quirks swapped for about a week. Bakugou’s POV will begin (though I’m probably going to keep this bottle rocket Bakugou section for the final draft in some form) and the POV will change every time you see a ~

===

Midterms ended and third years gained more privileges. They would be pro heroes in only a few months and needed the freedom to go to interviews and find housing. Their first licensing exam opportunity was in January, but the selection process started in lieu of licensing. Some people who proved themselves in the field but had an off day might work in offices until they passed the next available exam. Other agencies would not guarantee a position if a candidate did not receive their lisence accordingly.

This Sunday it was Bakugou’s turn to watch Eri after lunch. Yaoyorozu and Todoroki were out and Miriio was too busy studying for exams to come this week, but promised to visit more often after exams.

Eri rushed up to Bakugou and took his hand gently. “Can we make bottle rockets? Please?”

Bakugou blinked and then grinned. “Yeah.”

Eri already had all the materials. She even decorated the popsicle stick stabilizers with glue and glitter. “I watched a show on TV about it,” she said, “and I want to figure out how to do it.” She pointed to lines on the bottles. “I measured water and marked them for the vinegar. We need to make packets of baking soda.”

They took the equipment to the Home Ec room. Eri carefully measured out baking soda into paper towels and Bakugou helped her tie them at the ends. They attached the sticks to each bottle with more glue. Each rocket represented a different ratio of baking soda and vinegar. Each bottle also marked different amounts of vinegar.

Kirishima paused at the door. “Hey guys. That looks interesting.”

Eri explained the plan to Kirishima and soon all of them headed out to an empty part of campus with the rockets.

“You get to pour the vinegar but I’m doing the baking soda,” Bakugou said. He was not going to be responsible for Eri taking a bottle to the face or any other preventable mishap.

“But –” Eri stared up at him e a long moment. Neither of them looked away. Bakugou’s face remained firm. “Okay,” she agreed.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” Kirishima asked Bakugou.

“You just want to be the one to launch it.”

“So do you.” Kirishima snorted.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Alright. One bottle at a time.”

Eri put a funnel into the first bottle and carefully poured vinegar until it reached the line. She handed it to Bakugou along with the corresponding baking soda packet.

Bakugou stepped away, placed the packet inside and set the bottle down. He headed back over to Eri and Kirishima just in time for the vinegar to soak through the paper towel enough to create the reaction and send the rocket popping up into the air.

Eri wrote the results in her notebook and soon they prepped the second rocket. It shot up higher and then arced before zooming off haphazardly to the side.

Eri finished pouring vinegar into the third bottle and sealed the vinegar jug.

“What do you think will happen this time?” Kirishima asked.

“I think this one will go even higher,” Eri said. She smiled and handed the bottle to Bakugou. She turned to Kirishima for the last baking soda packet and then stared up at him.

Bakugou followed her gaze. Kirishima froze in place. His eyes scanned the horizon.

“Earthquake,” Kirishima said. He knelt on the ground. “Get down!”

Bakugou did so and Eri mirrored their positions. Her gaze shifted in the direction Kirishima stared. Soon Bakugou heard the rumbling growing steadily louder. The ground seemed to roll underneath them as it vibrated. Fire erupted as a gasline bursta few blocks away. The ground kept moving. Kirishima moved so his body protected Bakugou and Eri’s heads from debris. It lasted seconds but it felt much longer. The quake began to ebb the sound traveled into the distance. Sirens rang throughout the city.

Kirishima stood up and helped Eri to her feet. Bakugou stood up and brushed the dirt from his hands.

“Let’s pick our shit up and get it inside. We’re going to find Yagi.” Bakugou grabbed the unused bottle. When teachers and students were expected to assist local heroes, Yagi always took care of Eri.

Eri nodded. She picked up one of the straw bottles. Kirishima got the other. Bakugou grabbed the vinegar jug. Bakugou’s phone buzzed.

Yagi: I am at the teachers’ office. You can leave Eri with me. I’m sure Nezu will ask you to assist soon.

Both Bakugou and Kirishima’s phones buzzed simultaneously.

Nezu: Hello, students. Due to the powerful quake in our area, we have permission to assist locally if you have your license. If your mentor requests your assistance elsewhere, you have permission to assist them. Those without licenses, await teacher instruction. To those off campus, be alert and aware. Be safe! Plus Utra!

After dropping Eri off with Yagi, Bakugou and Kirishima raced to the dorms to suit up. Some of their schoolmates were already heading to the school gates. Bakugou forewent his gauntlets since major explosions could be more detrimental than helpful in this situation. He hit the gates at the same time as Kirishima, Jirou, Uraraka, and Shouji. All of them moved as a unit into the city.

~

It was Todoroki’s first time in a mall that had nothing to do with work. There was so much to take in, so many things to look at. There was anything any type of quirk might need here and even things unrelated to quirks like books, music, and other forms of media.

Yaoyorozu adjusted the strap of her purse. “Sorry about asking you out here, but our time at the thrift shop was kind of fun and I didn’t want to invite someone who might accidentally invite Kyouka. I know Christmas is more than a month away but you never know when they might need our help again.”

Todoroki nodded. “I need to think about Christmas too.” As far as he knew, none of his family observed Christmas. Everything he knew about it he learned from pop culture and his classmates. Everyone who dated someone always made a point to get their partner something nice. When Yaoyorozu mentioned getting something for Jirou, it did not take long for Todoroki to want to get something for Bakugou too.

Yaoyorozu looked at him with a smile and said, “I guess we just dive in and see what happens.” She bounced excitedly on her heels. “Let’s go.”

They tried music, but Jirou had such a broad taste and so much music neither of them could be sure what she did and did not own. They tried books, but they did not seem the right fit and Todoroki found his mind wandering. Quirk themed gifts seemed too personal. There were a lot of stores that seemed too cheap. After a while they bought crepes and settled down on a bench in the middle of the mall. Todoroki nibbled at the strawberry filling. He did not really focus on anyone or anything, but sometimes his eyes swept the crowd or checked the exits.

“Earthquake!” someone shouted from far away in the mall. “I can smell it!”

Before Todoroki could fully consider how someone could smell an earthquake, it began to jostle the mall. Todoroki and Yaoyorozu got under the bench. Displays toppled. Glass shattered. The lights flickered. The ground kept shaking along with their bones. It seemed to last forever and then it moved on and away from the mall.

Yaoyorozu rolled out from under the bench. “Excuse me,” she said and then ate what was left of her crepe still in her hands in three large bites.

Todoroki’s ate what was left of his crepe and put its wrapper in his pocket. His eyes scanned the immediate area. One of the shops emergency gates fell during the quake. Everyone he could see appeared dazed but uninjured. He looked at Yaoyorozu.

They headed towards the sound of the glass. Their phones buzzed but they could answer later. Shards of glass began appearing on the floor, crunching under their boots. Three of the safety panels used to keep people falling from the floor above dislodged in the quake, the glass bursting across the concourse for meters. Todoroki sent out an emergency code like he might if he was working for his internship.

“Please remain where you are,” someone said over the intercom. “Heroes will be with you shortly.”

“We should move them before the aftershock, shouldn’t we?” Yaoyorozu asked quietly.

“Is that safe?” Todoroki looked at her.

Yaoyorozu’s eyebrows drew together. “Is it safer to let them go through the aftershock in glass fragments?”

Todoroki was not sure. He scanned the area. They were the only people able to help. “I can see if a store will let us transfer them inside.”

“I’ll make a stretcher,” Yaoyorozu removed her coat and tied it around her waist. She pulled her shirt up so it exposed her mid-drift. “It might take a bit. I’m going to make it folded and then unfold it.”

“That’s fine.” What were their other options? Todoroki sent out an emergency code as he would if it was during internship hours.

A nearby clothing store willingly started moving racks so they would have room to put the injured. Yaoyorozu’s stretcher helped speed up the process. Those that got caught in the glass tried to take shelter in kiosks and under benches. Winter clothing helped prevent many injuries but there were some with multiple fragments embedded in their skin. There was no ideal way to move anyone without causing pain. Todoroki carried those less injured and helped those that could walk. Yaoyorozu used the stretcher to transport the worst injuries. They brought the last of the injured to the store just in time for the first aftershock.

The mall shook even more than it did the first time. People cried out in pain. More glass fell in other parts of the mall. There was nothing they could do until the shaking subsided.

~

It was dark. The moon set not long ago. The aftershocks at first grew more intense before gradually diminishing. Now they were barely noticeable. Bakugou stared at another him, just as tall, wearing the same exact clothes. He was several evacuations into the earthquakes now. They were finding people who did not make it out of buildings in time more than survivors. He almost could not process this.

“Camie.”

“Bingo!” Camie held up a finger. Her pro-hero costume was not much different than her high school hero costume except she no longer wore the hat. “We have a problem nearby, and I heard you shouting, so I told my boss I could bring one explodey boi to help us.” She looked at Shouji, Jirou, Tokoyami, and Kirishima. “Actually all of you can come too.” Her gaze returned to Shouji, “If that’s up top with you, Sensei.”

“I’m also a student,” Shouji said. “We can assist anyone who needs help, so it’s okay anyway.”

Almost everyone who worked for the same agency as Camie had quirks that lent well to infiltration and not so well to search, rescue, and recovery. Hero and civilian disaster crews continued to work together. The aftershocks grew weaker. The body count began to rise. Bakugou and Kirishima helped move debris as they helped search for those still alive. A family huddled together did not move and no longer breathed. Under them was another family barely alive.

Kirishima’s jaw remained firm. His eyes reflected the streetlights coming on as the sun set. Bakugou looked away and kept working. Uraraka vomited nearby and offered a quiet, “Sorry,” before turning to lifting debris with her quirk. Shouji and Jirou worked together, Jirou listening intently so they could track sounds of potential survivors and target their efforts accordingly. Camie worked wherever she could lend a hand. The night grew colder. They kept working.

Bakugou stepped away from the wreckage. His breath condensed in the air. Something waved in his immediate vision.

“Noms?” Camie asked, twirling a protein bar in her fingers.

Bakugou grabbed the protein bar. It was the only savory and palatable flavor the brand made. “Yeah.”

Camie opened a matcha flavored protein bar for herself. She slowly shifted her weight from one leg to the other, resting as best she could. Flurries settled onto her hair. She let her breath cloud in the air on purpose.

Bakugou ate slowly. He let his chin hide from the wind in the collar of his coat.

“I want to work together again,” Camie said, “as a team.”

“Infiltration isn’t my thing,” Bakugou said.

“I know, but I’m a subcontractor. I work with everybody.” She put her trash in her pouch.

Bakugou’s phone buzzed.

Nezu: Hello students! Curfew is still in effect. Remember to communicate and bring proof if you are late. Plus Ultra!

Bakugou looked at the time on his phone. He frowned. He still had the energy to keep going, to keep helping. Four more months and no one would be able to stop him.

~

The mall remained standing. There were bigger problems and needs across the city. A vacuum hero appeared to help with the glass. Paramedics were slow to arrive. With each larger quake, more glass fell. Everyone took to the stores for shelter. Even then there were still injuries. The food court caught fire three times. Eventually the aftershocks were almost unnoticeable. The glass was gone and everyone could go home. Stores began cleaning up their messes. Todoroki and Yaoyorozu offered to help rearrange the clothing store and clean up the blood, but the manager and employees had it under control.

When Todoroki and Yaoyorozu exited the mall, their phones buzzed with Nezu’s curfew reminder. Snow flurries spit out of the sky at random. Todoroki let his fire quirk circulate to keep his left side from becoming too cold. They passed by people rebuilding tracks, working to fill sinkholes, and pulling survivors and corpses from buildings. There were still so many things to do, so many ways to help. Todoroki looked at his phone. He had several messages directed at the agency in general for help from various points throughout the city. His news alerts were filled with shots of the damage and everyone helping the major sites.

“I’m glad we were there to help,” Yaoyorozu said, looking at her own phone. “I know there were bigger crises but how many other smaller ones got ignored or put off accidentally?” She lowered her voice so only Todoroki could hear even though they were alone on the street, “How many villains get created that way?”

Todoroki put his hands in his pocket. “Now you sound like Midoriya.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I know I shouldn’t.” Yaoyorozu sighed.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Todoroki looked up at the sky as flurries turned into a thin snow shower. “Shouldn’t our job also be villain prevention?”

Yaoyorozu did not answer immediately. “I’m not sure if I’d go so far as to work with them.” She looked over at Todoroki. “What about…?” she paused mid-sentence. “No. I probably shouldn’t ask.”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve got other things to handle first.” Although if Midoriya or Natsuo appeared and needed his help, it would not be a hard choice to help them.

Iida, Tokoyami, Ashido, and Asui joined them as they neared UA. Todoroki offered Asui his left arm. She sleepily croaked and latched onto the warmth. By the time they hit the gates, there was a steady stream of students from multiple years and various disciplines.

Todoroki barely had his dorm slippers on when a flash of red zoomed towards them. Eri hugged Yaoyorozu tight. Yaoyorozu hugged her back just as tight. “I’m home,” Yaoyorozu said.

“Welcome home,” Eri returned. She let go of Yaoyorozu and looked at the other students. “Not everyone came back.”

“They’re coming,” Asui said. She rested her hand on Eri’s head. “I’ll clean up and we can wait for the others together.”

Eri nodded. She retreated deeper into the room where Yagi stood next to one of the tables. It looked like they were playing cards.

Todoroki took to the stairs with the others. He glanced back over his shoulder at Eri and Yagi. Eri watched the doorway, her cards in a fan. Todoroki turned his attention forwards. He knew everyone was capable of doing the job, surviving, and returning. He had not questioned it once. He felt Eri’s worry at the back of his brain. He tried to ignore it.

~

The ground opened up and swallowed them whole. Uraraka slapped Bakugou and Jirou hard in the arms, causing them to float. Shouji spread his wings. Uraraka clamped her hands over her mouth. They all took to the air and watched a sinkhole open up along the road leading to UA. Sirens echoed throughout the city. The sky was completely dark. From this height, they could see stragglers returning to campus and crews working various sites. Buildings around the sinkhole cracked and distorted. None of them had lights on inside, but that might just indicate a power outage more than vacancy.

“I sent security a message,” Shouji said. “They know what happened.”

“I’ve activated an emergency code,” Jirou said.

Bakugou and Uraraka landed on the north side and Shouji and Jirou landed on the south side of the sink hole.

Uraraka fell to her knees and vomited along the side of the road. Bakugou’s eyes swept the houses again. There were no lights or signs of movement at the windows. She cleaned out her mouth with some water and then walked over to him.

“I bet we wait at least half an hour,” Uraraka said.

“Probably.” Bakugou let off a series of sparks.

Snow continued to fall at a steady light pace.

“Reminds me of summer training,” Uraraka said.

Bakugou’s gaze shifted to her. Her eyebrows drew together and she stared at one of the dark houses nearby. “Where were you?”

“The east side,” Uraraka said. She almost bristled at the memory. She took a deep breath and shook her head to clear it. “I’d like to think it doesn’t go on here.”

“It’s why they’re one of the top ten safest places in Japan. Probably true for all of them.” Bakugou shook the snow from his hair.

“Disgusting.”

“Yeah.”

Uraraka opened her mouth and then closed it. “Someone’s coming.”

Bakugou followed her gaze. Sure enough a group of construction heroes were heading their way, hopping from roof to roof as they traveled. Once they arrived and took over the scene, the students continued to UA.

When they arrived at the dorm almost everyone was in the common room. Bakugou had only seconds to react before Eri hugged him tight. He frowned and put a hand on her head. Eri slowly let him go.

“Welcome home. We were worried,” she said.

Were they? Bakugou glanced past her at the other students. They were busy making a hotpot for all to share. His gaze returned to Eri. She greeted everyone and then went back to helping make the hotpot. Bakugou’s teeth grit together. Midoriya just had to take off months ago. Bakugou didn’t want to think about it right now. He headed upstairs to clean up and make sure the hotpot was not turning into a disaster.

===

So, I scrapped the above version because I realized it would work better after New Years. Wasn’t completely sure where to use it so I chose Valentines Day to shake things up since it’ll be the third Valentines Day in the fic.

Again, this is third year. Bakugou’s the first POV.

===

Rain fell against the overhang splashing down to the concrete below. A sea of umbrellas entered and exited the mall. Bakugou watched his breath rise into the air as Todoroki scanned the posters. They should have looked at what movies were in theaters before leaving UA.

“What about this one?” Bakugou gestured to a poster with three adventurers running away from a propeller plane wheeling towards them engulfed in flames.

“Isn’t it supposed to be a romantic movie?” Todoroki asked.

“Probably.” Bakugou scanned the posters. Valentines Day was on a Sunday this year. Todoroki suggested catching a movie after they finished lunch.

“What about this one?” Todoroki asked. The poster had several couples on it with a slime monster rising up in the background in an ominous heart shape.

For a brief moment Bakugou felt the burning suffocation of slime invading his airways. He swallowed and scanned the posters again. “What if we hit up the arcade?”

The arcade had many different types of games and gaming modes. Several people already crowded into the room, gathering around the games as they played by themselves and with friends. As Bakugou and Todoroki walked up, a group of students vacated one of the dance games.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Bakugou said.

“We’ll see,” Todoroki said.

The game was both simple and hard. Each time they stepped on the board, it lit up with multi colored footprints and sparkles. The split screen directed them how to step, allowing for as much freedom of movement and flair as two people on the platform could allow. The song was fast and the beat easily hit each step. When the game finished, Bakugou put his arms up in the air, ready to claim victory.

It was a tie. The same score. The same “Excellent!

Fuck that.

“Again!” he said at the same time Todoroki said, “Again,” in a firm but quieter tone.

They tied again. Bakugou won. Todoroki won. More ties. Were they about to sink all of their tokens into this stupid game? Definitely. The resonance vibrated. The dance beat pounded. The game flashed and glowed. People gathered around to film their dance off. Bakugou ignored them. He was going to win unquestionably.

Suddenly his feet slipped out from under him, throwing him towards Todoroki, knocking them to the platform. The ground continued to shake, growing and growing, rattling bone, teeth, and flesh. Bakugou rolled so he could protect Todoroki’s head with his body. He found his jacket nearby and put it over them. The ground kept shaking. Glass shattering echoed from the concourse. Children cried nearby. Games toppled. The power flickered and went out. Slowly the room stopped shaking, the building stopped singing. Everything was still. Everything was dark.

Bakugou let go of Todoroki and sat up, making sure to angle his jacket so any debris slid off. One by one cellphones illuminated. There was a chime not from the speakers but maybe some kind of projection quirk.

“Please remain where you are. Help is on its way. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Are you okay?” Todoroki asked.

“Yeah.” Bakugou barely registered his phone buzzing multiple times in his pocket.

The generator kicked in and the power returned. Bakugou and Todoroki got to their feet and immediately headed towards the overturned games that pinned people to the ground. Bakugou wiped his face and then wiped his hands on his clothes.

“I’m Shouto, this is Ground Zero,” Todoroki said.

“We’re going to move these things, so some of you have to move,” Bakugou added. “Now.”

Customers that could move cleared sections of the floor. Bakugou and Todoroki lifted fallen games off people and placed them where they would not fall on top of anyone else. Bakugou went to check how the rest of the arcade faired while Todoroki did what basic first aid he could to help the injured.

“Get down Ground Zero!” someone shouted.

Bakugou knelt just in time for the aftershock to begin. He grit his teeth and then consciously relaxed his jaw when the vibration grew too great. The power flickered but remained on this time. The games remained against the wall this time. When the quake subsided, Bakugou continued his assessment.

~

The aftershocks kept coming. The power went off and came back on repeatedly. The customers resituated themselves into safer positions. The voice kept reminding everyone to stay where they were, promised help would be on its way. So far there was still only Todoroki and Bakugou in the arcade. Once he treated everyone injured, Todoroki reported the situation to Gang Orca’s agency.

Todoroki: At the central mall arcade, second floor. Injuries and damage. No sign of other heroes nearby.

Todoroki enabled a paramedic alert. The agency responded with automated messages confirming it received both messages and would handle them accordingly. If the mall was this damaged, other buildings would be too. Who knew who might respond. All the hero agencies would need to coordinate and handle whatever was in front of them.

“Can we go?” someone asked.

There was a chime and the voice repeated the stay where you are message.

“No,” Todoroki said.

“Thanks Captain Obvious.”

“You’re welcome.” Todoroki headed towards the front of the arcade.

Bakugou met him within sight of the main entrance. “The professional heroes already here are assessing the situation,” he said. “They’re going to start evacuation.”

Todoroki gazed out at the rest of the mall. Glass particles spread everywhere, many panels from balconies on other floors coming lose and smashing in the quakes. Some lights were also gone and several displays were in disarray. Yaoyorozu and Jirou stood at the mouth of one of the shops on the third floor making a similar assessment.

Jirou looked at him and then gave one thumbs up and one thumbs sideways. Todoroki returned it. Their situations were probably similar with some injured but nobody so serious it was life and death.

There were enough rescue and recovery heroes to go through the floors and assess the situation. Medical emergencies left first, uninjured left second, and the injured and their companions left last. Some were taken to the hospital and others were patched up and advised to see their doctors if their injuries worsened. Each aftershock was weaker than the last and the gaps between aftershocks grew longer. That did not mean their work was over.

By the time Todoroki and Bakugou left the mall, it was dark. Sirens echoed through the city. Various helicopters and flying quirks flew through the air with purpose.

#adventures in fic writing #sestet #i don't know what to tag this

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stainandscribble · 4 years

Text

Beyond Words(III)

Let Me Hold You Tight

Pairing: Jongdae (EXO Chen) X Reader

Genre: Jongdae Poet AU; angst; fluff

Summary: A poet reminiscences about his old lover and their relationship in his new anthology, reminding himself of the importance of sincerity, and that love words are just as important spoken aloud as they are printed on paper.

Word Count: 5935

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

A/N: Love is a blessing everyone is deserving of, and Jongdae has been blessed twice: with someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with, and a child, who he himself referred to as a blessing. I wish him all the best. In light of this, I will be concluding this short series in the next part. I will not be writing for him anymore. (I know its march but this is set in December because it fits the timeline and plot)

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Space was the nothingness between two things, an unspoken barrier, a limitation that kept you from him. You had told him you needed space. You needed time. Jongdae respected that. He didn’t push you. He had given you as much space as you wanted. You didn’t move back into your shared apartment for three months, until November. You didn’t sleep in your shared bed until December began knocking on your windows with frosty fingers and chilly drafts. He didn’t push, and he hoped he didn’t seem uninterested. In truth, Jongdae was captivated. He had thanked the universe every time you walked out of your bedroom to have breakfast together. He had thanked whichever deities looked down on him every time he could hold you in his arms. The soft hues of his eyes never strayed from you. Since you had told him you still loved him you had watched in glee and relief the way his publisher glared at you. This time, you noticed Jongdae had put a lot of effort into making it work. He sat with you at dinner and indulged in your hobbies, not having you indulge in his. He tried painting with you, and you had hung the pieces above the couch; your piece, drawn and painted with skilled hands and sharp eyes, his with the enthusiasm of a beginner.

“I think this looks quite good, don’t you?” He asked, brown eyes twinkling as he looked over his masterpiece, although incomparable in skill to your own, still in his eyes, it was an achievement. To Jongdae it was a physical manifestation of the fact he was trying, and you had accepted his hard work. He turned his gaze to look at you, lips curled into a Cheshire-like grin, eyes following the trail of yellow paint smeared over your forehead and the pastel pink colouring your right cheek.

“You should go into abstract painting.” You turned to look at him, lips mimicking his grin as your eyes trailed his clear face, bare of the paint you ended up covered in. He turned away from your wandering eyes.

“What do you want to watch now?” Jongdae turned on the TV and started flicking through the channels. There was a lightness in his tone; one that you had noticed only recently, since you moved your things back into the shared bedroom. It was clear he was happy. You would have been lying if you said you were not sharing in his happiness.

“It’s winter sports season. I wanted to watch figure skating championships.” You answered, turning your back to the bright paintings that now decorated your living room. The only other decoration this bright in your home was a vase of purple hyacinths standing on the kitchen island. Since you moved back in, Jongdae had brought you a bouquet every fortnight. You appreciated the gesture, but you were also fed up of the unspoken apology. Your eyes fell on his hand curled around the tv remote, free from any stains. Since he apologised you had never seen him with any ink staining his fingers.

It was something you wanted when you were breaking up because those stains reminded you that you were cast aside and disregarded in favour of his publisher and a pad of paper. It was no longer the case. His clean hand curled around the remote, flicking through channels for what you wanted to watch, and you no longer felt disregarded. You hoped he felt the same way; hoped that he was as happy as you were.

“They are on today?” He asked, walking over to sit on the couch.

“Yeah.” You went to sit on the couch beside him, as he sprawled out, leaning against the armrest. Some moments still felt new, as if your relationship was only beginning, and you supposed in some way it was. It was a new start, a chance to fix previous mistakes, give each other a chance to be better. In some respects, after being away from him for so long, you felt a little shy. That was why you sat a space away from him now.

“Do we have a sport’s channel?” He asked, still flicking through the channels before he handed you the remote in frustration.

“We should have. I was in our deal.” You told him, looking through the channel guide to find the sports channel. When you finally found it the competition was starting, and the first skater was about to go on the ice. Their dress was beautiful, embroidered with gems and sequins on the delicate fabric, and their routine was breath-taking, along with the scrape of blades against the ice rink.

Jongdae motioned for you to move closer, his hand outstretched in your direction, intertwining his slender fingers with yours. With his encouragement, you moved closer, comfortably pressing yourself into his side as his other hand reached for a blanket under the coffee table. He wrapped the fuzzy thing around the two of you, keeping you warm and cosy.

“It’s so pretty.” Jongdae whispered when the skater landed a triple axel. The soft instrumental music in the background was broken by the profound sound of her metal skates hitting the ice. You flinched, and Jongdae smiled, wrapping an arm tighter around you.

“And terrifying.” You whispered, making him chuckle.

The two of you continued watching, your cheek pressed against his shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him, enjoying his warmth, and the smell of his cologne. For a moment, you were completely at peace, right where you belong. In Jongdae’s arms.

You were so comfortable in Jongdae’s arms, at one point your cheek fell from his shoulder to his chest, his heart beating steadily in your ear. As the warmth completely consumed you, the last thing you remembered was being wrapped up in Jongdae’s arms as the announcer called out a double salchow. You did not remember going back to bed, nor Jongdae carrying you to bed.

I asked you what love is

And you answered,

That love is many things,

And that I must find love for myself.

Because love to me,

May not be love to you.

During December it had been cold and dreary, having you both in low spirits as you counted the days down to Christmas. Over the holiday period, he wrote all notes and lists with glitter gel pens and stuck them around the kitchen. You thought it was endearing, he thought it was hilarious. For the first week of December, the strange process of waking up beside another person was awkward. Sometimes you woke up on opposites sides of the bed, as far away as the bed would allow. Other times, you woke up in a tangle of limbs with your bodies twisted unnaturally, necks and backs aching for the rest of the day. It was pleasant A change you both welcomed because it meant moving forward, and the pace was irrelevant to the goal you sought out in the end.

Today was one of those days you woke up twisted, sweaty from the thick duvet and body heat. Last night you had fallen asleep on the couch, and now you were waking up in your bed, face pressed into the crook of Jongdae’s neck.

“Mornin’” You muttered. Your eyes, still blurry from sleep, made out the deep brown of Jongdae’s eyes looking down at you, a small content smile curling his lips.

“Good morning.” He answered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Jongdae woke up, the soft rays of cool winter sunlight streamed through the window, kissing your face as he watched. Soon, you stirred awake, eyes half-closed as you murmured a greeting. He kissed your forehead, pressing himself closer.

“I love you.” He murmured into your skin, the confession hung in the air unanswered and heavy as he watched you tentatively, seeing sunlight reflect in your eyes and the morning flush bloom on your cheeks. The split-seconds it took you to answer seemed like an eternity for him, a sweet eternity he was willing to wait every time.

When you answered, there was no hesitance in your voice, and Jongdae thought he was willing to wait an eternity if it meant that at the end he could hear you say it again.

“I love you too.”

The words rattled his bones, like the shaking of reverberating thunder. He had always thought you were a storm. You had always proven him correct. He wanted to stay like this forever, in this moment, and his fingers ached to feel you against them. He stroked your hair, pulling it out from your eyes, giving him a clearer view of your face. His fingers ached for pen and paper too, and it was almost painful not reaching over for it, lying just on the bedside table. He refrained.

You began moving, getting ready to stand up, and he followed you, sitting up, letting the duvet fall.

“What do you want for breakfast?” You asked, getting out of bed.

“Cereal.” Jongdae mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he got up. You walked out into the kitchen, leaving him to make the bed. His eyes kept falling on the notebook and paper lying on the bedside table, his desire too strong to ignore, and before he knew it he was sitting on the freshly made sheets, writing away, the pen gliding effortlessly guided by his hand. The words formed on their own, and he didn’t see you walk in, ready to call him over, before you stopped in the doorway, watching with fond eyes as he bent his back over the low surface. Maybe if he had seen you there would be less guilt eating at him later. Maybe if he saw you, you would be able to reassure him. He was not meant to fit into your mould. You were meant to learn to fit together, each a separate piece of a puzzle that together would form a picture. Jongdae had learned from his mistakes, but he had yet to find the balance necessary for both of you.

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

Once he emerged from the bedroom, he avoided your gaze, and you could not help but feel the need to talk. And so, you did. You too had learned from your mistakes and knew that you had to make your desires clear, more forceful.

“Jongdae,” You called , and he turned his head away from his cereal to look at you.

“Yes?” He gave you a small smile, his brown eyes gazing at you softly as he played with the softened cereal in his bowl.

“You don’t have to hide away and wait until I’m gone.” You told him, referring to the incident that had transpired moments before.

The spoon he was playing with fell from his fingers. You could see the dark ink on his fingers, small smudges decorating his hands like constellations. A smile formed on your lips, tight-lipped and rueful, but still, it was a smile, and you were both learning a balance and compromise all over again.

“Just remember you have a life too, outside of pen and paper.” You watched his stare at you with wide eyes, part astonishment and part fear swirling in the kaleidoscope of browns. He leaned back in his chair; the soft smile he wore now replaced with concern.

“I never asked you to stop writing. I asked you to talk to me.” You reminded him, voice firm but soft, as you gazed at his hands as he fidgeted with his fingers, rubbing against the ink-stained skin.

“I feel like that was all I used to do.” He confessed, looking down at his hands. You walked up to him and leaned against the table.

“You are a poet. That’s not going to change. I don’t want it to change.” You took hold of his hands, stopping him from rubbing away at his skin. You could tell he was nervous; you did the same thing when you were. You manoeuvred yourself to sit in his lap and he let you, hands grasping firmly to your sides, thumbs massaging soothing circles on your waist.

“Keep the ink stains.”

His heart leapt in his chest, the strange feeling of guilt, as if he had done something wrong, began to vanish, and with every caress, it lessened as if washed away by water. You pressed a kiss into his hair, murmuring the same thing as before. He reciprocated your affection in kind, kissing you with a newfound enthusiasm as happy tears burned the back of your eyes.

“Keep the ink stains.”

So, I decided to find it for myself,

What made my heart race,

- beating against my ribs like the bars of a cage.

What made my breath shake,

- hitch in my throat and never reach its home in my lungs.

What made my mind reel,

- play the film of you frame by frame like old cinema.

Later that day, as evening settled upon the bustling city, Jongdae busied himself pulling out the contents of your storage space. Behind the hoover and various bits and bobs, you had put away all your Christmas decorations, and now it was the time of year again from Jongdae to make a mess in the corridor by taking them out. He succeeded eventually, and you helped him put everything back in its spot. You two had gone out earlier to get a Christmas tree, a small living one that fir in the corner of the living room.

Jongdae put on the multicoloured fairy lights, as you began putting on various baubles. Some were plastic, others were made of glass, and reflected the light like little mirrors.

Once you were finished, you lit up scented candles and curled up with a mug of hot chocolate on the sofa. Jongdae sat on the opposite end, typing away at his keyboard as he sent out work emails and drafts.

He just finished working on a short story for a Christmas special anthology by his publishing company, along with multiple other writers. Despite the workload, he still baked cookies and helped out around the house and went out on multiple errands like the grocery shop and the post office.

In the background, soft instrumentals played through your speaker. After about an hour, the peaceful atmosphere was broken by the sound Jongdae’s laptop falling to the floor. You rose from the couch and picked it up, making sure nothing had happened to it. Taking a glance at Jongdae, you noticed his closed eyes and even breathing. He had fallen asleep with his laptop on his lap, and it had fallen once he started moving in his sleep.

You put the laptop on the coffee table and pulled out the fluffy blanket from underneath, draping in over Jongdae as he slept. You tried positioning him so that he would lay down fully on the sofa.

“Goodnight.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead before extinguishing the lit candle and walking back to your bedroom to get ready for sleep.

Once you emerged from the bathroom, you were greeted by the sight of Jongdae smiling sleepily at you as he finished putting on his pyjamas.

“Goodnight Y/N.” was the last thing he said before climbing into bed. You did the same, curling onto your side, allowing Jongdae to drape his arm over your middle and thread his fingers through yours.

I found what made my heart ache,

- the look in your eyes when you spoke about the things you love.

What made my breath hitch

- the way your fingers ghosted over my own before your hand found its way into mine.

What made my mind come to a standstill.

- when the film ended and you walked away, and the flowers on the windowsill withered away.

A week passed, and Christmas was coming fast upon the two of you. No real plans have been made, and Jongdae’s parents were insisting you both to visit over the holidays. Your parents said nothing, and since they had never explicitly invited Jongdae to visit with you for Christmas, still being stand-offish towards him. You understood them, and he didn’t push to visit them with you.

Hence why you were now sitting by the table, eating your breakfast and looking over your calendar.

“Are we going to go separately?” Jongdae asked. It was time to decide what you were going to do, as time was ticking, and your parents, both yours and Jongdae’s, had been pestering you for answers.

“I haven’t thought about that.” You spoke, munching on your second bowl of cereal.

“My parents have been asking if I’m taking you.” He told you, pouring himself milk in his first bowl of cereal. He had just rolled out of bed, hair a mess and coffee in hand. You watched him, the winter sun, bathing him in light, making him look ethereal. His features appeared sharper; a morning blush flushed his cheeks. He smiled softly at you as you watched him. He enjoyed having your eyes on him and the feel of your eyes scanning over him, invisible fingers caressing paths over his features.

“My parents didn’t ask.” He heard you whisper, and his heart tightened listening to your hushed voice. He smiled at you, trying to lighten your spirits.

“They still don’t like me?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Watching me live at home for half a year wasn’t pleasant.”

“Maybe we can split it up? One day with your parents. Then one day with mine.” Jongdae reasoned, sipping on his coffee. You nodded, watching him, eyes scanning over his face, falling on his Adam’s apple.

“I’m all yours. No need to stare.” He smiled at you, and you smirked, leaning over the table to peck his lips.

“Have you gotten presents for your mother yet?” You asked him, returning to your breakfast.

“No.” He answered, reaching over to fill his bowl with another helping of cereal. You passed him the milk standing on your side of the table.

“Me neither.” You told him. “What were you going to get her?” You asked, wondering whether you should bring a gift of your own if you were going to split your time between both sets of parents.

“Perfume, chocolates. That is what she likes.” He answered between spoonfuls of cereal.

“What perfume are you going to get her?” You asked, wondering about your humble gift to your mum.

“She likes Chanel, and I know she is about to finish one of her bottles.” He just shrugged; eyes turned to look at you. Your shoulders were hunched as you rested your head in your hands.

“My mum wanted a new electric mixer. One of the fancy ones, since her one is living out it's last days.” You told him, and he nodded, promising to take you to a store that sells kitchen utensils.

----------

Later that day, he walked around with you, sipping on bubble tea as you browsed through the shopping centre, electric whisk in a bag hanging off your arm as you looked for a perfume shop that carried the fragrance Jongdae wanted.

At one point, he left you alone, telling you to go get cake, as he disappeared in the mass of people doing last minute Christmas shopping.

You were left in a Starbucks, finishing your bubble tea and a slice of cake you ordered.

-----------

Jongdae walked away, leaving you in Starbucks as he rushed through the crowd of people towards the jeweller. Once he got into the quiet store, he was greeted by the worker, who happily showed him what he was looking for, before packing it in a pretty box.

Jongdae thanked her, before tucking the box away into his bag, hiding it so that you would not find it.

With a smile on his lips that caused them to turn up at the corners, and turn his eyes into slits, he walked back to where you were waiting, finishing your cake and tea.

You waved at him, ushering him to your table, allowing him to sit down before asking your questions.

“Where did you go?”

“I needed to check if I was getting the right perfume. I didn’t want to get the same one dad was getting her.” He told you, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt. His heart skipped a beat when you nodded your head and picked up your bags. You didn’t question him any further, and he was thankful for that.

“Come, we still need to get her present.”

It was all you.

How could you say that what is love to you,

May not be love to me,

When my love

Is you.

Christmas eve rolled around, and the next day you were going to spend Christmas day with Jongdae’s parents. Tonight, you were with your parents. Jongdae was slowly making amends with your mother, as your parents accepted that he was back in your life, and you hoped that this time it was for good.

“Jongdae, would you like some hot cocoa?” You asked, peeking out from the kitchen, watching him set the table as your dad did the last-minute hoovering.

“Yes please.” He called back, setting another crystal glass in front of one of the four chairs.

You helped your mum, taking the dishes to the table, giving her time to change into more appropriate clothes, before your parents and Jongdae and you sat down.

The dinner went by smoothly, the conversation flew by, about your illustrations featured in a magazine and about the nomination of your artwork for some type of award; at one point your mother even commended Jongdae for a literary nomination in the poetry section of a country-wide award. You did not expect her to as civil knowing that she could hold grudges, but then again so could you.

“The spiced cake is lovely.” Jongdae turned to your mother, finishing his last sip of hot chocolate. Your mum smiled at him, turning to look at you, and Jongdae’s arm that draped over the back of your chair, thumb running circles over your shoulder.

“Y/N is a good baker.” She replied and you hid the blush. Baking was something you could always do, and you had been pretty proud of that.

“She is.” Jongdae commended, giving you a small smile, eyes twinkling in the bright light, the multicoloured fairy lights of the Christmas tree reflected in his dark irises. Without thinking, you smiled back, oblivious to the fond look your father had been giving you all evening.

“You are going to your parents’ tomorrow morning?” Your father spoke, and you turned your attention to him, smiling brightly.

“Yes.” Jongdae answered, his arm falling from the back of your chair as he rested it in his lap.

“Wish them a Merry Christmas from us.” Your dad instructed, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes, making you smile.

“I will. Thank you.” Jongdae replied, a small polite smile plastered on his lips.

“Thank you for the flowers. They are lovely.” Your mum turned to him before her gaze fell on the vase standing on the top of the chest of drawers under the tv. It was a bouquet of mixed edelweiss, bluebells and honeysuckle. Silent; Jongdae had told your mother he loved you, and it had brought a smile to your lips every time you thought about it.

“And thank you for the wine.” Your dad added, gesturing to the bottle of red dessert wine standing on the dining table.

“Why don’t we open it tonight, seeing as you are leaving tomorrow?” he asked, and Jongdae turned to you, silently asking if it was okay.

“Sure.” You nodded, going to get a corkscrew from the kitchen.

The rest of the evening went by smoothly, with you ending up in Jongdae’s embrace at the end of the night, warm under your blankets in your old room.

And yet, you were right.

Love to me was unspoken

Love to me was a subtle breeze.

Love to you was something obvious.

Morning came, and neither of you wanted to move. Still, he was the first to get up and shower, and you left to help your mum set up breakfast. Once you finished, you went to shower yourself, leaving Jongdae to talk to your dad over the morning news.

-----------

An hour later it was time to leave, and after a heartfelt goodbye and your parents fretting over if you took everything, you were off on the road, travelling to the next town over where Jongdae’s parents lived.

“Do you think they will be happy to see me?” You asked, looking over at Jongdae as he focused on the road. You were greeted with a white Christmas this year, and so he was being extra careful whilst driving. Snow was everywhere, and you were thankful the roads were cleared out before you got in the car late in the morning.

“They call you daughter in law. Why wouldn’t they be happy to see you.” He answered, a smile tugging at his lips, and you gave him a small smile back, on instinct, despite the fact he never saw it.

The rest of the three-hour journey was peaceful. Jongdae sang along to the Christmas song on the radio, encouraging you to sing along with him as he gave you cheeky smiles and stole little glances your way, doing his best to focus on the road.

It was a miracle you were not stuck in traffic between towns, so you arrived at his parents’ house around one thirty.

“We’re here.” Jongdae announced, pulling into the driveway of his childhood home. His mother was the first to get out of the house to greet him, his father following close behind. You stepped out of the car the same time Jongdae did. Almost immediately he was engulfed by his mother’s arms, caught in a hug so tight you could imagine him turning red.

“There you two are!” His mother exclaimed as she let your boyfriend go, giving you a warm smile in greeting. Despite your relationship with Jongdae being repaired, you doubted you would feel comfortable with his mother embracing you, and so you were thankful for her keeping distance. You came to stand by Jongdae, his hand finding yours in split seconds as he threaded your fingers together.

“Don’t they look lovely together?” His mother asked, eyes falling to your joined hands. You blushed lightly, letting Jongdae lead you into his parents’ house.

“Come in, how about some lunch?” His mother asked, leading the two of you to the already set dining table. Jongdae’s dad was already bringing out the tureen for soups. His mum went and got side dishes from the kitchen, motioning for you to sit down.

“I don’t want to bother.” You responded, trying to politely decline, despite the fact you already knew it was useless.

“Nonsense.” She waved a dismissing hand and went to place the dishes on the table.

“Sit down.” Jongdae’s dad gave you a reassuring smile as Jongdae motioned for you to sit beside him, his arm draped over the chair you were meant to sit in. You had poured yourself a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup, and so did Jongdae. The soup was delicious, so much so that Jongdae ended up having seconds. Once the food was done, you helped Jongdae unpack your things from the car, and then went to help his mother cooking. The house was spotless, and the only other thing to be done was Christmas dinner.

You cut up carrots and parsnips as Jongdae peeled and cut potatoes. His mother busied herself with baking a pie.

“I’m glad you two are back together.” She commented over her shoulder as she rolled out pastry. You stopped what you were doing, choosing to let go of the knife in your hand. Jongdae gave you a worried look. He had not told his parents about why you two broke up, figuring that Christmas was not the best time to tell them everything. He had not seen them in a while, seeing as they were away from the country for the last six months because of work. You had agreed to keep your metaphorical dirty laundry private for now.

“I don’t understand why you two broke up in the first place.” Jongdae pursed his lips, giving you a small smile as he looked at his mum.

“We thought we needed some time alone to think things through.” You answered for him. Technically it was not a lie, you had done a lot of thinking during the time you spent apart, and you believed, as did Jongdae, that it had done the two a lot of good. it had given you a much-needed break, and it also released a lot of tension between you.

“I’m glad it all turned out alright in the end.” His mother smiled at Jongdae, and then at you, and you returned the smile, a little less enthusiastically.

“Mum lets leave this topic for a day other than Christmas.” Jongdae butted in before his mother said anything else. The kitchen fell silent as he resumed peeling potatoes, and you managed to give his free hand a gentle squeeze.

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Night came quickly after that, and soon you were sitting at the dinner table, dressed in one of your better dresses. The dinner had been peaceful, you walked away stuffed and smiling, eyes falling onto Jongdae every once in a while, admiring the golden tone of his skin under the candlelight.

You walked to the lounge; the large living Christmas tree stood in the corner. It was decorated with opulent ornaments and the fairy lights glowed a brilliant red and gold in the dim lights.

“It’s time for presents.” Jongdae’s mother exclaimed once everyone sat comfortably in the lounge. An old copy of The Nutcracker lay on his father's lap, open to the first page.

His mother pulled out some gifts from under the tree, giving the first one to her son.

“Here you go, darling.” She passed over the colourful package.

“And you too, you are family too.” She said, giving you a serious look as she handed you a small box wrapped in red.

“Thank you.” You told her, looking over at Jongdae as he went behind his father's armchair, pulling out two boxes and a bottle of wine.

"Here you go." He handed his gift to his mother and passed over the bottle to his father.

"What's the third one?" His father asked, setting the bottle aside.

"Y/N thought you would like this, to put up on the picture wall." He handed the box to his father, and he pried it open, revealing a frame with the magazine article featuring Jongdae and his anthology. It was back from a month or so ago, after he received a nomination for the national poetry award.

"Oh, it's lovely." His mother said, picking the frame up.

"She thought it would be nice for you to have a memento of my first success." Jongdae explained, squeezing you hand as you pressed yourself closer to his side. His mother looked at you, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiled, murmuring a silent thank you. She proceeded to put the frame up on the chest of drawers below the wall covered in family photographs.

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

Once you were alone in Jongdae's room, you relaxed a little, unaware until now of how much stress this evening caused you.

Seeing your slumped figure, Jongdae smiled, moving closer, until he was right behind you. He could feel the warmth of your skin and smell your favourite perfume. His heart beat faster, straining against its lining in an attempt to escape the confines of his ribs. He hoped you didn't hear the erratic beating, nor the deep breath he took before speaking. Jongdae summoned all his courage, bracing himself against the storm that you were.

“I have another present.” He whispered, arms wrapping around your middle from behind. You threaded your fingers through his, running your thumbs in circles over the backs of his hands, enjoying the comfort of the moment. Jongdae was warm and solid behind you, his presence allowed you to relax as your shoulders fell.

“Another one?” You asked, and he hummed in confirmation, the vibrations tickling your ear.

“You’ll like it.” He promised, and you could feel the hind of a smile in his voice. He let you go, and you turned around to face him. Jongdae pulled out a small velvet box out of the pocket of his suit trousers.

“Jongdae-” Your breath hitched, but he stopped you before you could say anything more.

“Be mine.”

“I’m not asking you to marry me. Not if you don’t want to.” He told you, close enough you could feel his warmth, could imagine the erratic beating of his heart. Or was it simply the echo of your own heart?

“I’m asking you to stay with me.” Jongdae looked you in the eye, his dark orbs smouldering with intensity like ardent flames.

“During the last year I have learnt many things, I learnt that I need to be more attentive, and find a healthier way to come with negative emotions.” He told you, voice gentle as he spoke, your eyes never leaving his.

“I’ve also learnt that I can live without you.” Neither of you flinched or reacted when he said that you both smiled, ruefully, but it was still a smile.

“But I also found that I don’t want to. I want to stay by your side indefinitely. I can live without you, and you can live without me, but I don't want to. I want you. I love you.” He told you, opening the little box he was still holding, revealing the thin band of gold among the dark cushion. A single brilliant pearl sat in the middle of the band, like a moon against the night sky.

You thought back to his anthology, mind catching onto the significance of the ring he was holding.

“I cannot water you anymore,

And pearls, like dew

I cannot give you.”

You remembered the passage from his poem, and tears swelled at the back of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

He had finally given you the pearl he always wanted, finally fulfilling his self-made promise.

“Our love is an inkwell, and I promise to never let it dry again.” He promised, and before you could continue, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was sloppy, nothing like the ones on screen, your teeth clashed, and your neck hurt, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the man in your arms; the man who had decided he loved you more than ink-stained fingers, who had kept his promises. It was the man whose ink-stained fingers you learned to love, the same one who brought you flowers and compared you to spring and flowers and the sun, and made you feel like you were all of those and more. You loved him, and you didn’t want to live without him either.

“I love you too, Kim Jongdae.” You broke the kiss, whispering those words against his lips like a prayer.

“I love all of you.” You told him, eyes looking into his own as you let his fingers, stained a deep blue, slide the ring onto your ring finger as your hands wrapped around his neck, keeping his body close to yours.

Is this obvious enough?

Loud enough?

Eternal enough?

I hope it is,

because you are.

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softly-savage-mint-yoongi · 4 years

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Wow I’m feeling the love today seeing as @guardians-of-exo, @kyungseokie, and @j-pping all tagged me in this, love you ladies thank you! uwu

1. what is your ideal setting for focusing on your writing?

Usually in the morning, or those rare occasions of 10p-midnight-ish. Coffee, woodwick candles, piano music only. I can’t focus on writing if there is any sort of talking or singing. Lately it’s been a lot of writing on the go on my laptop, in the car between jobs or before/after a shift, or if I just want to get out of the house. I drive a jeep so I go sit in the woods as often as possible when the weather is nice with the back open. Nature is a great muse!

2. what is your favorite genre to write?

I would love to say it’s romance, but I think- if I could even call this a genre- it is the kind of descriptive writing about expressions. In pain or pleasure and the feelings of it. I most enjoy writing with the intent to evoke a strong emotional response, whether it is fluffy giddiness, painful heartache or overwhelming love.

3. do you prefer to write on paper, or digitally?

I usually start on paper or on my phone just for synopses and then go digital in two drafts. I storyboard strictly on paper, in a notebook dedicated to writing. Ask @guardians-of-exo, she knows I’ve done a lot of research on things for our collab au, and all of the information I have is handwritten in that book. :) This also goes for drawing maps and charts to go with my work or blueprints of prevalent spaces in fics so I can remember what is where and such to manifest that greater sense of physical space. The more detailed I can be on paper the better.

4. it’s the middle of the night and you suddenly wake up with an idea. what do you do?

Grab my phone, curse at the brightness I forgot to turn down before bed, and then type out my idea in an app I use specifically for things like this. When I have ideas at work too and I’m not at my desk it’s nice to be able to put it in my phone for reference later.

5. who is your favorite person to write about?

Y’all know it’s Junmyeon, right? I have told many of you when you’ve asked, but allotrope was all started because of how much depth I think Junmyeon has and I really wanted a chance to be able to explore some of those sides to him. I want to be able to say Chanyeol, because he is easy to write and love and have fun with and feel a lot of emotion for when he wears the essence of his soul on his sleeve so boisterously. Just, as is my style, I’m better at capturing the hidden moments of a person and I think I enjoy doing it just a little bit more.

6. do you like making your own characters, or do you usually write about real people?

So it actually took me over a year to take the next step and write about real, actual people. I felt like it was breaking some sort of respectful barrier and I had a lot of mixed feelings about it. Ultimately, I’m not writing anything about them with the intent to slander them in any way or harm them so I decided not to fight it. I only enjoy writing reader-inserts when I can be as absolutely obtuse with their looks and personality as possible. This has been quite the challenge in An Adventurer’s Guide to Romance in particular. Mie and I had a conversation about how difficult it is to write nine different reader-inserts for our boys. They need to feel vague so anyone can put themselves in those shoes, but they need to differ from the other 8 inserts because they show up in each other’s stories and I think writing the same personality nine times will get very old very fast.

7. have you ever written a book, or a story with more than 15 chapters (or 100k words)?

I’m not sure how good I feel about saying this because looking back it was literal trash, but I wrote 100k+ fics for Naruto back in the day so I’m used to writing long works. I think Moonchild will be over 100k when I’m done but I’m not sure. Allotrope will be close but not (sitting at 55k now), and the Chanyeol Dark Fic I have planned to write after Allotrope might be as well, I have no idea.

8. how often do you get ideas?

Hmmm, pretty much constantly? I definitely try to stick to the ones I think about the most or have the most world-building experience with. Thirst-trap ideas end up being shorter fics of course, but they’re no less fun or exciting to write! I quite enjoy dropping fics in less than a week since conception. The challenge is stressful but fun and rewarding when it’s out to the world and the excitement of fulfillment lingers! I also tend to stick with ones where I have a greater sense of emotional connection, or straight up fantasy au, LOL.

9. do you ever get an idea that you really like, but just can’t seem to finish?

I think this is what’s happening with Moonchild right now, haha! I haven’t written for it in almost a year, but the idea is still there and I’ve got paaaaggeessss of detail for it, plus the rest of the story is outlined. I just have to write and detail it! Too many other stories taking up my inspiration and motivation atm.

10. what is your least favorite plot?

I mean this in the nicest way- but plots for highschool aus (funny considering how fucking W E A K I am for college coffee shop aus) or fics where there are copious original characters. Y/N doesn’t need a posse to bitch about so-and-so. I think the only fics I’ve read where this was absolutely not a bother and made the stories better were Steph’s Sweeter Than Sweet (Sam, who became a prevalent character and was not over-done), and Sarah’s Welcome to the Exodus Mall series where she has done something similar to AAGTR- in that each member knows one another and their respective love interests do, too, so a few have names or aliases. I’m certain I’ve not read them all though so if you have any recommendations to sway me, send them my way! I don’t hate them, I just think they’re at the bottom of my sought-after tropes!

11. tag 5 or more people

I’m pretty positive I’m literally the last one to do this so I don’t want to tag anyone else because y’all have done it already lmao.

#tag games #raz rambles about writing #fanfiction

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 5 years

Text

Animal Instinct + Dead Disco | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

We’re back with another Moth Work update because ya girl has finished two chapters and is here to spill all the tea! If you missed update one, and two, be sure to check them out before reading this one! I’ve been having a bit of cabin fever with this project lately which has made it difficult to really immerse myself into the project. But we’re almost at the 20k mark of this project which is wILD! I never imagined writing so much of this story (which was initially just a guilty pleasure) and I’m happy with how much I’ve learned about my characters just through this small detour in the series.

The first chapter I’ll be updating on is chapter four, ANIMAL INSTINCT.

This chapter was a giant pain to finish! It had about 5000 revisions mid-draft, and I definitely feel like I had blinkers on when writing it. Because of that, I lost sight of the big picture and really got stuck on the little things, like the writing and overall quality of the project. This was not actually the purpose of Moth Work--it was supposed to be a dumping ground for whatever. However, in this chapter, I became really hyperfocused on all the small details I disliked which made drafting it a month-long process. I’ve now come to a slightly healthier place with quality in this draft, and found a middle ground between trash-dumping and nitpicking.

What’s it about?

Animal Instinct is a major point of tension for Lonan and Harrison as their goals deviate. This chapter focuses heavily on the volatility of their relationship and highlights Lonan’s current irrational mental state. The title stems from this idea of calculated action for the sake of a single person’s benefit.

The writing bit:

I struggled to write this chapter quite a bit. It took me the majority of July to complete because of a major logic problem I kept running into. After struggling for a few days, I finally realized by fleshing out what I’d written initially, I could overwrite the logic problem. The solution took a lot of work/test scenes to figure out, but eventually I got it!

Excerpts:

I shared this excerpt before because it’s one of the only paragraphs I don’t mind in this chapter! I think the flow is a lil funky but I dig the concept! This outlines the last bits of the cabin, specifically Harrison’s final check around the perimeter.

Around the corner, the back patio is static—like Anna and her son never stopped sitting there. Her bowl of avocado and Greek yogurt—the holistic remedy Emily said would make her glow like an angel—sits gummy and pestered with flies. One of Milo’s toys is wedged under the cheap lawn chair. It haunts him, seeing them while not seeing them, but he leaves everything like it is. Anna and her son will always remain on the patio, Anna with her cheekbones splayed for the moon, Milo babbling mildly about his father like he hasn’t made the connection. They’ve gone invisible.

After this first scene, Harrison does some driving in the dark which gives me major book three vibes lol, and eventually pulls into a motel somewhere in Nevada. This route from Oregon to Boston makes no sense but I conveniently needed Lonan to end up in Vegas, so!! do it for Vegas!!

In the motel, Harrison meets Jeremiah, his potential new man lol. Harrison is focused on getting in and out of there as quickly as possible, but he’s like dang mans teeth are the straightest I ever did see (me too tho). Because he gets distracted, he fails to notice his car turn off, and only makes the connection after passing it a few times in the parking lot. He minorly paniques as he looks for Lonan, but eventually finds him around the building.

The scene that follows gets volatile as heck, and really showcases how similar Lonan and Reeve are? Like dang that whole family tho? (Can I join?)

I’m not going to share much of this scene because she gets dramatic, but this is the wildest dialogue I’ve written in a while and I think I’m going to steal it and make Reeve say it because something like this would come out of her mouth:

“Do you feel that, Harrison? I could burn you with a cigarette and call it a wolf bite and nobody would know the difference.”

sounds normal at first then NOPE

The next chapter (chapter 5) is called Dead Disco:

This chapter came together very quickly because I’d had it basically planned out, however, it veered into an emotional direction I wasn’t expecting. This chapter was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, and it ended up being... not that??

What’s it about?

After the tragic drama that occurs in the previous chapter, Harrison wakes up the next morning to notice that Lonan has #left and #taken the car. This is v/ not good, but instead of getting super worked up he chooses to chill out at Jeremiah’s place and chill ft. some disco. I meant for it to be cute but Harrison ends up in a mental place I wasn’t expecting, so the chapter feels a bit “derealized” to me. After both Lonan and Harrison head out on their solo endeavors, they meet back up and this encounter ends *badly*.

Playlist:

July 31st Rachel was feeling very enthusiastic about the playlist for this chapter (I was writing while listening to music) and wrote down a list of songs that describe the progression of this chapter (in order + all Nothing But Thieves because predictable!):

Holding Out For A Hero

Crazy

Afterlife

Hanging

Excuse Me

Forever & Ever More

You Know Me Too Well

I’m Not Made By Design

Amsterdam

Number 13

Itch

Hostage

BUT SHOUTOUT TO: Disco by Surf Curse

Probably the most accurate vibe here lol

Excerpts:

This first excerpt is Harrison angsting hard about missing his friends. I don’t *love* her but I don’t *hate* her! I tried revising it but it... flopped, so here’s the failed revision:

Lonan could say those words and it haunts him, how easily he taints him like a bad omen. There are so many things Emily would tell him to do to cleanse the bad magic, but Harrison recalls none of them properly. He remembers words like moon, and black walnut, and quartz crystal, and cardamom, but can’t think of what to do with any. He wishes he were like Foster, curious enough to carry around a pocket dictionary, or like his mother, clever enough to make something up on a whim. All Harrison can do is bury his face in his palms outside the restaurant and hope no one watches him. The main road bustles by and he wishes to be invisible, like Anna and her son. He wants his friends back. Foster could lull him to consciousness with a quiz on the different kinds of plants, which are edible, which are poisonous. Reeve would split a cigarette with him and scare him back to life with her driving. Emily will never speak to him but at least she’d cast a curse on him, and even that’s better than his nullified state of living. It’s disorienting, to feel asleep while awake. Harrison blinks hard, but everything feels the same—the buildings all shimmering, the people staring barely even people, everything derealized like it’s all been coated in REM.

(tag urself i’m foster’s pocket dictionary)

This next excerpt outlines Harrison getting turnt with his new man and then getting philosophical? drunk Harrison be Aristotle and Madonna smushed together idk

Harrison knows he shouldn’t drink around a stranger but Jeremiah’s got a handmade bracelet and scribbly tattoos on his forearm so it’s hard not to trust him. Photo prints of hostels in Japan, statues in Europe, cathedrals in Paraguay decorate the walls in perfectly cut rectangles. Each is plumed with a dried flower and it reminds Harrison so much of Emily, he has to look away, back to the Lonan-coloured drink. He studies the shot glass like it isn’t transparent, the grooves around the perimeter, the engraving that reads Cancun 1987. He loses Jeremiah’s absent swish around him, and gets lost in the blue. The trifecta amazes him, how a colour as unnatural as this has manifested in Lonan’s eyes, his earring, this drink. He tips the glass back and finishes it in one go, and even though it’s strong and should taste like artificial blueberries, his mouth is tasteless and numb.

“You live here alone?” Harrison asks, raking his fingers through his hair. The apartment overlooks the strip across the street and Harrison gets lost in it, the artificial signs like bad advertising, the neons ill like influenza. When he looks toward Jeremiah again, his glass is refilled and he has to think hard to remember if he emptied it in the first place.

This is where Harrison manages to make disco big sad + some lowkey salt at Lonan which is always! a! win!:

Together, they move in a trance, limber and manic. The glass in Harrison’s hand isn’t a weight—it’s a lifeline. The apartment blurs, and waves in slow motion. Harrison doesn’t hear the music or taste the drink; he feels nothing in the ground, and everything in his tongue. His hair swims in his face like Lonan’s, moving like he did in the water, careless in his forehead, his eyes. The pictures on the wall become the pictures in his bedroom, and the blinking doesn’t get rid of them. In his sidesteps with Jeremiah he sees him, in the glass, across the street, under a streetlamp. Taking his cigarettes, his light, his car, his mouth like a cannibal.

To end this update, here’s some dialogue ft. savagery:

“You’re patronizing me.”

“You’re patronizing yourself.”

A meme to accompany this lol:

So that’s it for this update! At the time of drafting most of this post (which was a few weeks ago), I wasn’t really feeling this project, however, after writing chapter 6 and switching POVs into Lonan’s head (where there’s lots of messy stuff to work with), I’ve been having a lot of fun!

I’m sorry updates have been slow on this blog--I’m in the process of moving so I’m getting busy, however, I hope to post at least one more update before I go off to school! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

#writing #writeblr #amwriting #writerblr #fostered #writingupdates #mothwork

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