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#(sorry if this is too petty and stupid and whatnot.
robotsprinkles · 11 months
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okay.
so I don't have anything against warhammer 40k (from what I've seen it seems pretty cool).
and I don't know enough about the general fanbase to have a solid opinion on it
but the subset of wh40k fans who're obsessed with barging into any discussion of various sci-fi factions and declaring that wh40k or even just the imperium could destroy said faction/universe — or in some cases literally saying "don't be salty just cus all your favorite settings get solo'd by a space marine lmao" really drive me up the wall
like. shut the hell up.
that 80-90% of the time I see someone bring up wh40k in contexts that aren't about 40k it's to announce just how 40k is so so so so much stronger than every other sci-fi series and could wipe the floor with them really doesn't paint 40k fans (and 40k by extension) in a great light
also — and I'm sorry for bringing up the Alternity every time this happens but I mean. if people are going to be stupid then so will I — have fun beating the Hytherion when it travels billions of years into the past and eats your entire galaxy (or universe) before it even forms
(yes, transformers alternity is stupid as hell. fun thing to bring up in stupid nerdfights over whose universe is the strongest though.)
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akunya · 2 years
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can i get a piece of dom Mysta please. jealous sex ? and you’re doing so well, thank you for all. stay safe and healthy ^^
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i hope you’re doing well too, anon.
“ill just have to remind you who you belong to.”
pairings: yandere!mysta rias / m!reader
summary: you’ve been around the other members of luxiem too often lately for mystas liking. he takes matters into his own hands.
tw: dubcon, degradation, possessiveness, angry rias? name calling. yandere (sorry). vox cuck in the beginning. dom rias. toxic. manipulative.
notes: for the sake of the fic, lets pretend they see eachother irl. literal demons and whatnot streaming on the side. they all come from their respective backstories/lore. its a bit long, but im more than happy to write a part 2 if its wanted. she/her + she/they + fem aligned/women DNI.
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mysta has always had an issue keeping his feelings bottled up. the fits of jealousy, envy, anger he felt when you were too close for his liking with another man were not normal. he knew this. his brain screamed at him that keeping you secluded from others was a terrible, inhumane idea. and yet..
seeing you perched up on vox’s lap like a little doll made him see red. you laughed at some stupid shitty joke the demon made, vox staring at the way you smiled with no mind towards mysta. the way you saw no issue with vox wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you “secure”, bouncing you on his leg while you laughed and chatted with him. he knew you tried to be polite and kind to the other members of luxiem, but how air-headed could you be? he thought vox knew you were his boyfriend, not just a friend. the stupid little shorts you were wearing didn’t help, and he swore he saw the demons claws pinch at the fabric to show more of your soft skin. if mysta left the room he was sure he’d come back to the raven-haired man blowing your back out.
deciding enough was enough, the detective stood up from his seat, you and vox’s conversation going silent. he stood, not saying anything, but you noticed his hands bunching into fists. “what’s the matter, boy? if you keep scowling like that, you’ll grow wrinkles.” vox gleamed at the detective, only making the brunettes brows furrow even more. “i didn’t want to interrupt, but y/n and i actually have a stream to do together tonight.” he grabbed your wrist, making you stumble a bit to get off of vox’s lap with a nervous smile. the demons hand lingered on the small of your back, almost as if he didn’t want to let you go.
you chuckled awkwardly, mystas grip on your wrist only getting stronger by the second. you could feel a bruise forming as you tried to keep up. "s-sorry vox! ill catch up with you later!" you tried to apologize, your boyfriend not letting you spend another second with his coworker. “why can’t we stream together sometime, y/n? im sure it would be a fun time-“ you only faintly heard him - vox could barely finish his sentence before musta pulled you away, leaving the mans apartment with a slam of the door. the demon blinked a few times in surprise. after a moment of silence trying to process what had happened, he tutted in disappointment and reached for his phone to call up ike instead.
during the drive back from vox’s house, the silence between you two was deadly. mysta barely spoke a word, his grip tightening around the steering wheel every couple of minutes when he thought about what had happened. you shouldn’t be sitting on anyone’s lap but his. you were too oblivious to realize the other boys would never treat you like he does. he never has petty outbursts like this, eyes softening for a moment when he sees you sitting anxiously in the passenger seat. he caresses your thigh, easing some of your worries as you got closer to his house. you didn’t mean to push his buttons so far: it wasn't your fault that vox liked to talk so much! you couldnt just ignore the others when they tried to talk to you! still, the way mysta had a terrible aura around him - as if his possessive and violent thoughts were manifesting into something physical - made your stomach twist.
taking your shoes off at the door, you didn’t make it far into the house before mysta grabbed your arm. mumbling something incoherent, the man took you to his room, leading you inside before locking the door. you bit your lip in anticipation, staring at him as he lingered near the doorframe. “..m-mysta? are you ok?” for some reason, you felt eerily vulnerable - only wearing one of his hoodies and some shorts because of the nice weather. gulping, you were unsure of what to do or say.
“..does it look like im okay, y/n? seriously, how dumb could you be?” his voice was sharp, he looked at you and strided further, your body instinctively starting to move backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. he looked down at you, glaring with anger. “for the past few weeks you’ve been lazing around like some cheap whore around the other guys. do you have any respect for yourself? for me?” you felt like a child getting scolded, unable to meet his eyes. mysta has had his fits of anger, but he's never been this pissed at you before. maybe vox pushed him too far this time. a gloved hand pinches your face, nails digging into your cheeks and snapping you out of your thoughts.
“i thought you were mine. why do you act like you arent? don’t you sleep here with me? live with me?” his blue eyes looked into yours, as if they were trying to stare into your soul. underneath the anger, he looked like a hurt puppy. you knew you probably struck a chord in his own personal issues, guilt suffocating your heart. “i-im sorry, i really didn’t mean it like that-“ “then what did you mean, y/n? am i not enough for you?” he frowned, eyebrows twitching with anger and betrayal. his mind was screaming at him with horrible scenarios: you shouldn’t be allowed around the other boys. you shouldn’t be around anyone but him. not until you learn that you are his.
"i thought i made you feel loved, but i guess i was wrong. i guess im not doing enough." mysta cuddled into your neck, hovering above you. he sighed, shoulders dropping as he kissed your neck. the kisses he left started out sweet, but shortly after his fangs dug into your skin. "but its okay. we can fix this!" he chuckled, kissing your earlobe before biting it playfully. "ill just have to remind you who you belong to." your eyes widened, not expecting your boyfriend to take control so quickly as you felt him palming your crotch. you moaned, mysta pinning you down as he let his hands roam around his body. his gloves hands traveled up towards your chest: pinching your nipples before slowly going back down. he made sure to dig his sharp nails into your sides. "you're really cute, babe, yknow that? so its only fair i mark you up. so no one else tries to take you away from me." his nails dug especially deep during the last sentence, causing you to yelp in pain as he tugged your shorts off. you've never seen mysta so aggressive before - the way he bit down and made sure every inch of your skin was marked. he acted as if he owned you like a toy. laying down on the bed, the detective pried your legs open, smirking as he began to undress you. this was going to be a long night, wasnt it?
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jadedxrealityw · 4 years
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-My Little Slytherin- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader
   ♡~🐍~♡
    Request:  hi! could you please do a fluff where the reader gets jealous of another girl flirting with draco and he stays the night in the reader’s dorm room to make it up to her or something like that? you can change the ending if it’s easier for you. thank you~
   Kody- “he stays the night in the reader’s dorm room to make it up to her or something like that?” feels smutty, but at the same time not everyone likes smut. So i'll write two alternative endings. A fluff and a smut. I also don’t condone Astoria Greengrass slander, but it’s needed for the story, i’m sorry.
   Warning: Sexual and Mature themes. s i n. I mean- yikes. Both characters are 18 in this story.
   House: Slytherin
   ♡~🐍~♡
   the best days at Hogwarts were free days. Being able to catch up on missed homework was great, or hang out with friends you didn’t usually see on your busy school schedule, but today you were doing none of those things. You will be spending all day with your lovely boyfriend.
   well not all day. Draco had Quidditch practice early this morning, but it should have finished about 10 minutes ago. So you were walking out of Hogwarts and making your way towards the Quidditch field. You had a skip in your step as you walked, excited to have your boyfriend around.
   you saw a couple of the Slytherin players land on the ground, high fiving each other and whatnot. ‘guess it was a good practice’ you thought. You gaze around the field, looking for your boyfriend. “You were great out there, Draco” you heard a voice say, turning your head in the direction. You see Astoria Greengrass.
   she was holding Draco’s bicep and was practically drooling all over him. You could feel your eye twitch in irritation, she was always around Draco. You swore she was more obsessed with him then Pansy Parkinson was. Which was a lot, but at least Pansy stopped when you two started going out.
   the pale boy gave her a polite smile “Thank you, Greengrass” he says and ran a hand through his platinum blond hair. “Aw Draco. You can call me Astoria!” she smiles a sickenly sweet smile. He nods slowly and grabs her hand removing it from his bicep “Thank you, Astoria, but i have to go find my girlfriend” he spoke.
   ‘damn right he does’ you thought. Astoria puts on a pout “but you never hang out with me anymore. Y/n stole you away from me. Just talk to me for a bit, yeah?” she whines, making her sound like a mandrake root that had just been pulled. You watched Draco’s conflicted face ‘oh he better not’ 
   look you weren’t jealous, okay maybe a little, but it’s only because even after you both started dating Astoria still continued to try and ask out Draco. You understood her feelings, but she was being entirely disrespectful and didn’t consider yours like you did hers. 
   so you told Draco, until she learned to be a normal person and deal with her feelings that he couldn’t hang out with her. It seems rude, but the girl would take an inch and stretch it for a mile. She needed a Draco detox basically. It’s not like he was being rude to her in like a ‘go away’ way. More ‘sorry, but i have go’ 
   Draco sighed and gave her a small smile “She doesn’t seem to be here yet, so yeah we can talk” and you had lost all hope for your boyfriend right then and there. You regain your composure and activate ‘Petty Y/n’ mode. You walk right past the two, catching the attention of the pale boy.
   “Y/n! i thought you weren’t coming?” you heard him say. You turn your head and watch as Astoria’s face twist into one of annoyance ‘yeah whatever bitch’ “Oh you seem to be busy, so i’ll catch up with you later” you say, putting on a smile that Draco knew was fake.
   he looks at Astoria then you, opening his mouth to speak, but before he could. You turned and made your way towards Blaise Zabini. 
   ♡~🐍~♡
   and just like that you completely blew off the Slytherin boy all day. A couple of times you caught yourself going up to him to apologize, but would turn all the way back around because he was still with Astoria. Letting her flirt with him and grab him. Okay yeah, you were definitely jealous.
   it was getting late and you were changing into your pajamas to lay down and get some rest. You slipped the long shirt over your head just as a knock came to your door. Straightening the shirt you realize it was one of Draco’s and sigh ‘stupid boy’ you thought and go over to your door.
   grabbing the handle, you turn it and pull it open revealing the pale boy himself “Draco” you spoke, crossing your arms “I take it your still mad at me?” he asks, leaning against the door frame. “and the boys a genius. What do you want? a cookie?” your sarcasm made him roll his grey eyes.
   “you let that girl put her filthy hands all over you, Draco” you scowl at him, but it seems to have no effect considering he just smirked in return “Are you jealous Y/n?” he asked, a cocky expression on his face, knowing he already knew the answer.
   ♡~🐍~♡
   Fluff Ending
   you feel your face flush and roll your eyes “Me? Jealous? of what? Greengrass? as if.” your face was small under his gaze. He nods once and takes a step towards you “Good, because your my girlfriend. Not her.” he says and places a hand on your face, turning your chin up to look at him.
   “i love you Y/n. Not Astoria or anybody else. I’m sorry that she ruined our day together, but it isn’t exactly over is it?” he asked, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. You nod slowly and he walks into your room, reaching back to shut the door behind him. “You also look really cute in my shirt”
   “Yep it isn’t. So i’m spending the night with you as an apology. Only if you’ll allow me of course” he says and you sigh contently “Your lucky i love you Draco Malfoy” you spoke, causing the boy to laugh slightly “Indeed i am” and with that he grabs your hand and leads you to your bed.
   you crawl in and lay down on the left side and he does the same on the right. You were about to pull the covers over your body when he grabs your hand. “Yes?” you say and he doesn’t respond. Instead he leans into kiss your lips gingerly. The exchange only lasted a couple of seconds.
   “i promise i’ll stay away from Astoria. Your right, she is kind of crazy about me” he sighs and you nod “Her and me both” you joke, causing the pale boy to snicker before pulling your body flush against his. “There’s a difference between the both of you though”
   you raise a brow curiously “and that is?” you question. “I can only imagine you wearing an engagement ring, wearing a nice black dress as you walk down an aisle towards me, saying i do and having a family with” your caught a bit off guard by his words. He imagined his whole life being with you?
   “you just have this all planned out, huh?” he nods confidently. “Of course i do. It’s me after all, you know how dramatic i am. Now, get some sleep Mrs. Malfoy” he spoke, making your face flush again. He notices your pink face and grins slightly “Cute” he mumbles.
   you feel his arm wrap itself around you and rub circles on your back, making you hum. You close your eyes leaning into his chest, so close your able to hear the rhythmic beat  of his heart. “I love you Draco Malfoy” you mutter and soon enough you were asleep. Draco smiles and closes his eyes as well.
   he kept his protective hold on you and felt himself dozing off “I love you too my little Slytherin” and with that the pale boy fell asleep holding his future bride.
   ♡~🐍~♡
   S i n Ending
   your face flushed a light pink at his question. “What? no of course not” you sputter out, which didn’t help your argument at all. “Oh you are. That’s really cute” he speaks, his smirk not flattering in the slightest. You roll your eyes “Whatever, don’t you have Astoria to go talk to?” 
   he rolls his eyes and gazes at your sleepwear “Is that my shirt?” he asked, his hands grabbing at the hem of the shirt “Don’t change the subject Draco!” you swat his hands away making him sigh. “Oh merlin, Y/n you don’t have to be jealous. You know i will always love you”
   your stupid face turned a light pink and you turn away “I know” you mumble and feel him grab your hands. “Y/n, look at me” he says and lets go off one of your hands to gently force your chin up to look at him. “How ‘bout i make it up to you, yeah?” his smirk returned to his face. 
   your face turned a darker shade of pink making the pale boys smirk grow wider “Consent would be lovely” he says in a sing song voice. His hands trailing to your hips to give them a light squeeze. “Y-Yes” you stutter out. The way he had this effect on you was indeed magical.
   he captures your lips in his and pull you against his chest. You begin to respond to his rouch kisses with your own, but pull away once you remember that the door was open “the door” you huff out and he uses his foot to push it closed. 
   then reaches behind it to turn the lock, locking the door. Draco turns back to look at you and smiles before going into kiss you again. The kiss is full of passion and very needy, which you were at this point. The pale boy started to back you up into the foot of your bed.
   as you were about to pull away from the kiss Draco grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you from the ground to throw you on your bed. You landed on the bed with a ‘oof’ sound and prop yourself up on your elbows to look up at him. “You look so cute disheveled like that” he coos. 
   he then crawls over you, straddling your hips as he dips down to your neck. Starting to nip at the sensitive skin, you let out a small whine. You could practically feel the smirk that formed on his face when he heard you. He pulls away to lift your- well his shirt that you were wearing over your head.
   he stopped his movements to take in your choice of bra and underwear. “I certainly know i’m going to enjoy this” his voice was low and raspy, need dripping off of every word. You simply observed as he placed a kiss between the valley of your breast and went lower and lower
   he left purple love bites in his path until he reached the hem of your underwear. You felt his finger run along your clothed area, making you shiver “Already so wet for me, darling” he hums and hooks his finger into the waistband, pulling them down skillfully. 
   when they reach your ankles he places a kiss on your caff before throwing them on the floor. “Now, where was i?” he asked and looked down at your now exposed lower half “ah yes, that’s right” the pale boy leans down and plants a kiss on your bundle of nerves, making you squirm under him.
   you could hear his cocky laugh as you stare up at the ceiling, unable to look towards the boy. “Eyes on me, love” his voice had an demanding tone and slowly, but surely you look down at him. He gives you a innocent smile “Good” and grabs your thighs, placing them over his shoulders.
   you didn’t get a chance to react as the boy licked a long stripe along your core “how sweet” he mumbles all you could do was stare as the Slytherin worked his mouth on you, leaving you a moaning mess under him.
   your hand went to his hair to tangle themselves in his platinum blond mess. Your hips began to buck up, trying to get more friction against your lower region. Draco used his hand to hold your hips against the bed “Keep still” he growls and uses his tongue to prod at your entrance.
   you let out a huff of pleasure as he pushes the wet muscle inside you “Draco” you breathe out, making the Slytherin boy smirk again “I like hearing my name come from you in a such a lewd way” you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach as he continues his actions.
   “Draco i-” 
   “Let it all out my little Slytherin” 
   and you felt the knot burst, your release coming in a wave of euphoria that crashes over your body. “So sweet” you heard him say as he sits up, wiping his chin from you. “Now, let’s sleep” he says, going back to his casual demeanour. You blink a couple times as you sit up as well
   he gets up from the bed and begins to look at the ground “What?” you ask and he picks something off the ground “Tonight was about you, not me. Plus i have you all morning tomorrow” he sends you a wink and tosses your underwear to you, which you start to put on.
   “I need my shirt” you say, pulling the undergarment over your area. Draco grabs the bottom of his shirt and hands you it, leaving him topless ‘woah’ “I rather you wear that one” he smiles at you and you snicker before slipping the shirt over your head.
   Draco climbs in the bed next to you and pulls you down to lay with him. “Hmm now sleep Y/n. You won’t be doing a lot of that tomorrow” he says, his tone going deeper. You roll your eyes as you feel him pull the sheets over you two. “Night darling” he mumbles and kisses the side of your face.
   you smile and lay your head on his chest “Night Dray”
   ♡~🐍~♡
   Kody- HAHAHAHA i suck at writing this, but i hope you enjoyed. Anyways, peace. 
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arhvste · 4 years
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❛ haikyuu sibling series hcs - general - part 1 ❜
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「 includes : kuroo, matsukawa, oikawa, and suna 」
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kuroo tetsurō
→ his parents got divorced at a young age and you can’t tell me otherwise
→ but before they did, himself and his older sister were close
→ she wasn’t as boisterous as him but she had a bit of a playful streak in her too
→ would absolutely go along with his scheming pranks on their parents and relatives
→ shes the one who got him into taking academics seriously
→ he always thought his big sister was cool and seeing her studious trait, he decided he wanted to be like her too
→ she’d help him with his own homework after school even if he insisted he didn’t need her help
→ everytime he’d score highly on a test, his sister would be the first person he’d show his little gold stars too
→ her praise meant the absolute world to him because from a young age he looked up to her and seeked some sort of approval from her that he was on the right track
→ when the fighting between his parents got bad, big sister kuroo would always leave her door open for her little brother to retreat into her room
→ she would hush the crying and distract his young fragile state of mind and make sure she did everything she could to stop him from focusing on the shouting
→ stories, board games, colouring, big sister kuroo did it all with him to ensure his mind was occupied with something other than the arguing downstairs
→ she’s his hero even if he doesn’t know it at such a young age yet
→ shes the one who taught him the trick with sticking two pillows against his ears just in case there were some nights she wasn’t at home
→ “see tetsu! it’s like having your head buried by sheep!”
→ when their parents did eventually split, he was beyond devastated
→ his best friend was being taken from him and there was nothing he could do about it
→ pleaded his parents to let them stay together but alas they decided it just wasn’t possible
→ kuroo took a handful of years to fully get over the separation from his sibling
→ hence his shy tendancies and hesitation to trust others at a young age
→ even to this day, the pillow habit stays prominent in his sleeping habits
→ while he was no longer in contact with his sister, kuroo would always think of her first whenever he received good grades or test results
→ would think of her during volleyball games
→ a source of motivation would be to ask himself if maybe his sister were here, would he being doing enough to make her proud?
→ after every accomplishment, his sister would linger at the back of his head
→ even now everyday when he goes to work
→ he can only do his best and hope it would be enough to be ‘cool’ like he always thought his sister was
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matsukawa issei
→ big brother mattsun 😼
→ growing up, he was so inclusive of his little siblings
→ he’d never tell his brother or sister to leave him alone or go away
→ mattsun was super considerate and laid back with his siblings
→ as long as they weren’t causing too much trouble, mattsun didn’t really care what they were doing
→ he played with them i know he did
→ hero’s and princesses? pirates? dragons and mermaids?
→ mattsuns played every single one of these and more
→ whenever his siblings would argue, they’d always argue over who gets mattsun on their side
→ whoever won him over was deemed the winner of whatever petty thing it was they were arguing about
→ this little shit played the fuck out of them 😹
→ “hm whoever gets me the leftover pasta from the fridge will get me on their side 😈”
→ “if you go empty the bin then i’ll be on your side.”
→ “issei that’s not fair! that’s your job!”
→ “is it? guess i have to join your sisters side then...”
→ “I’LL DO IT!”
→ makki woukd come over often and his brother and sister loved him
→ he was like mattsun but prettier and “less mean”
→ in fact, all the aoba johsai third years were popular with the matsukawa siblings
→ his little sister was ✨infactuated✨ with oikawa
→ oikawa was “her prince charming” according to her
→ “oi loser, since my sister likes you so much why don’t you babysit for me next week?”
→ “as if! i have better things to do any- -she likes me?! 🥺 yes of course i’ll babysit!”
→ his brother is the opposite tho haha
→ “stupid oikawa don’t come near my sister!”
→ little brother matsukawa was protective asf over his sister
→ would throw hands at the setters legs and waist
→ and you already know mattsun, makki and iwa are just gonna stand there and ignore it
→ all in all, mattsuns one of the best siblings
→ he looks out for his siblings but he’s not overbearing in the slightest
→ these days he often lets them visit him at work when he’s not as home as often
→ “whoever brings me lunch doesn’t get locked in the coffin room”
→ obviously his siblings are bigger now so they just roll their eyes and ignore him ahah
→ he’s still someone they know they can come to if they need to though
→ he’s a good big brother who will listen to them without judegement cause hey, he’s done some questionable things growing up too
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oikawa tooru
→ “you’re not allowed to have a boyfriend because i said so! nobody’s good enough for you! 😠”
→ “tooru, i’m older than you 🧍🏻”
→ over protective asf over his sister
→ insults boys that try it on with her to their face 😹
→ “you don’t seriously think she’ll go for you when you look like that do you? 😹 next caller!”
→ shes constantly apologising for his rude ass behaviour 😩
→ he does often seek advice from her though
→ especially when he started garnering attention from girls himself
→ “hair swept to the left or right?”
→ “neither. both are ugly.”
→ yes queen humble him 😈
→ okay but she would actually help him though
→ shes act like shes doing him a huge favour but she secretly likes the fact he comes to her for advice and feedback
→ shopping trips
→ she picks out his clothes because let’s face it
→ he can’t be trusted to be left to his own devices
→ she nearly threw up when she saw the plaid shorts fit 😖
→ she also picked out his glasses too because again, he can’t be trusted to be left to his own devices
→ he hypes his sister tf up !!
→ especially after shes having boy troubles of her own
→ “whatever! he was a loser anyway nii-chan! he would’ve ruined all the family photos if you ever got married to him because he was so ugly! you’re way out of his league!”
→ third year oikawa says it’s on sight if any boy messes with his sister regardless of the fact she’s older than him
→ iwaizumi was rather fond of oikawa’s sister too
→ therefore, he’d automatically part of her body guarding system alongside tooru
→ growing up, iwaizumi was awkward around her
→ shes a pretty older girl of course he’s gonna feel pressured !!
→ she found it endearing though
→ and shes often thank him for looking out for her little brother and keeping him in line when she couldn’t
→ rip iwaizumi 😔✋the boy has turned bright red and doesn’t know what to say
→ these days he’s a-okay talking to her!
→ they both lovingly bully oikawa now
→ but back to the point of her helping him with girls
→ oikawa is not a fuckboy and you know why?
→ because his sister told him those boys are the worst !!
→ he is a respectful boy and his sister will make sure of that !!
→ when he did get his first girlfriend, she had to tell him all the things to do to help
→ clichè films were the wrong source according to her she called them cringey and stopped oikawa from leaving the house at 2am to throw rocks at his girlfriends window to confess his love
→ “tooru please tell me you’re not doing what i think you’re about to do”
→ oikawa with his bag full of small stones and a rose in his mouth : 😳🌹
→ his first break up was rough but big sister oikawa was his hype woman this time
→ “she knew what she was getting into when she asked you out. remember, she wanted you tooru and if she can’t remember that herself then she’s not worth it.”
→ big sister oikawa had his back 100% and vice versa
→ and even now, she’s cheering him on the loudest
→ her little brothers a little brat but he’s the brat she’s overwhelmingly proud of
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suna rintarō
→ literally didn’t give a shit about his little sister for the longest time 😹
→ he knew it annoyed her when he didn’t pay attention so he did it just to test her limits at first
→ his parents scolded him time and time again and eventually he did start to acknowledge her
→ like mattsun, he’s laid back and not overly intrusive
→ but he is a little bit curious as to what’s going on in his little sisters life
→ “whos that? you’re not dating him are you? yikes.”
→ “rin? what do you mean ‘yikes’?!”
→ “he’s ugly.”
→ lowkey protective of his sister
→ he knows she can handle herself and whatnot but he still feels the need to look after her just a little
→ so if you’re a boy and you get on the wrong side of her i’m sorry
→ suna is pulling up with the miya’s
→ “oh? so you’re the little shit who thought you could mess with my sister?”
→ atsumu in towering over the boy next to suna : 😈
→ osamu towering over on the other side to suna : 🤨
→ suna : 😐
→ the boy : 😳
→ it’s always been like that though
→ in his own way, sunas always been there for his little sister whether he makes it known or not
→ “one day, yer sisters gonna be a pretty gal i can tell”
→ “i won’t hesitate to call child protection if you ever make a comment like that again 😐🔪”
→ “i-i was just tryin to be kind! it’s hard sometimes suna it’s hard! 😖”
→ his little sister will come to his games and he won’t care 😹
→ deadpan expression the whole time
→ she doesn’t care though because she’s not exactly thrilled to be there either
→ both siblings have their own interests and don’t tend to mix them
→ but he’ll still support her in whatever she wants to do and vice versa
→ but they prefer to do it from a distance
→ because i know suna only went to one of her ballet recitals and he didn’t even try to stop the strings of loud yawns the whole way through
→ the suna siblings remain hot and unbothered over everything
→ you could have beef with both siblings and neither of them are gonna give a fuck
→ but when you pick on little sister suna, rin is gonna give a fuck but he’ll be clever about it
→ easy going relationship
→ neither siblings are overly affectionate or overbearing but they’re both there for each other if needs be
→ they don’t talk about deep things and details together though
→ but they will slag other people off together 😹
→ if the suna siblings don’t like you i’m sorry
→ because both of them will come for your neck with no mercy and you’ll never know 😼
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general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @tsumue @peteunderoos @tsukkisbean @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @dai-tsukki-desu @angrylittleriri @tsukkaria @kuxredere @warakou
please send an ask to be added / removed from my taglist
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ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE
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boognish-worshipper · 3 years
Text
ok so like i had this idea for a while n it took me MONTHS to finish bc i was nvr content w/ my writing n whatnot yadda yadda yadda anyway,, this is basically a what if thing about the triads shooting trevor in ludendorff n michael realizing how dumb he is
(my apologies that it’s so fuckin looooooong but I didn’t wanna leave it on a short note that felt incomplete. hope y’all like it !!!!! sorry for any grammatical errors or if the formatting’s funky)
//
Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Was he stupid? No, no. He was just blind. Blind for the past 10 years. Who knows. Maybe even longer than that. Fucking Michael. It always came back to that venomous shithead, constantly ruining everything for him. Did he just... forget? Was he so focused on that bloodsucker when he was “dying” in front of him he completely forgot Brad got shot first? That Brad died first? He didn’t even really think about him when shit went down. Or care much about Brad in general for that matter. The guy was a dick who just worked with other dicks back in the day, eventually joining their motley crew. A fading memory more than anything. His primary focus had always been Michael, who he thought was his right hand man. Trevor always knew that there was something different about him. As frustrating as Michael could be, it still didn’t change how he felt deep down. Michael wasn’t like the others. Or at least, that’s what he had thought. The night he found out that Michael’s lie ran deeper than he led on was one he wouldn’t forget.
He arrived at Michael’s house in a short amount of time. Hopping up the steps he made his presence known, standing in the entrance of the living room. He plopped down next to Michael, who scooted away from him slightly, still not ready for close contact from Trevor.
“Family ain’t back yet, huh?”
“Nope.”
“She’s a Goddamn fool, man.”
Trevor was never one to hide his jealousy towards Amanda. The two had been going at it for years, and it was always regarding Michael. Catty behavior between two people who had complicated relationships with the man, in their own unique ways. Amanda was scared of Trevor, but was never afraid of talking shit to his face. It was never any serious threats whenever they shot petty quips at one another anyway. She knew Trevor would never kill or harm her, all thanks to Michael, who spoke up again.
“Despite all the chaos of these last few weeks, I think I finally figured it out… I know, it sounds ridiculous-“
To Trevor, the thought wasn’t ridiculous. He knew Michael would never change. He would always be a killer, a man of action through and through. He was wasting away on a couch, rewatching classic Vinewood every night. To him, it only seemed right for Michael to keep taking scores.
“You’re back man!” He proclaimed, emphasizing his next line, “We are back!”
With excitement in his eyes, Trevor went on to boast about the little clique they had formed, and how they only needed to bust Brad out to fully reunite. Michael looked solemn, shaking his head slightly.
“That’s not it. I got money, it just makes you miserable-“ Now it was his turn to have excitement shine in his eyes.
“I wanna make movies.”
“Great. That’s great… and uh, so where exactly does this leave me in the second act of your life?”
He felt his stomach sink somewhat, regretting having asked that question. Michael would always tiptoe around it, avoiding the inevitable. But he couldn’t run from the past anymore. It would always catch up to him.
“This is not a game to me! Alright? This is a fuckin’ way of life.”
“I got a fuckin’ family!”
“Yeah, well, I got nothin’! No one gives a fuck about me!”
There was a pause. A hesitation. Amber eyes looked sorrowfully yet savagely into pale blue ones.
“I do.”
Something in Trevor snapped hearing those words. He couldn’t stand the audacity of Michael saying that to him. Because to him, Michael didn’t seem to give a fuck about what happened to Trevor. No matter how many times he lamented to him about everything he went through.
“Oh… Fuck you.”
Trevor rose from his seat, beginning to pace around the room, stabbing a finger in Michael’s direction. He did nothing but stare between his feet, not bothering to look up at Trevor.
“I saw your grave. I mourned you. And then it turns out that everything I fucking thought about you was wrong. Everything! You’re not dead, and you’re not a man.”
Michael shot up from his seat, cool demeanor abandoned in a fit of anger.
“Well, what the fuck are you?”
“I’m your fucking nightmare!”
“Yeah, enough with your Goddamn threats!”
Trevor did nothing but scoff at him, backing away like he was about to leave the room. Instead, some kind of alarm went off in his head, urging him to stay and ask the question he pushed far into the back of his mind. The inevitable was happening, and he couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. If Michael himself stood before him alive as ever, then who the fuck was in Michael Townley’s grave? Then suddenly, and ultimately, it clicked for him. Fucking Brad.
“You treacherous piece of shit! You’re fuckin’ dead! You’re fucking dead!”
As it clicked for Trevor, it clicked for Michael.
“Oh, fuck! Trevor! Hey, T!”
He peeled out of the driveway in Michael’s car. God, it smelled just like that fucking prick. It made him want to cry.
“Fuck!” He screamed out to no one in particular.
He slammed on the gas and wiped away any forming tears. His phone began to ring and he saw an all too familiar photo appear. Michael. What the fuck could he possibly say or want right now?
“Fuck you.” He spat out.
“Hey, come on. Where you going?”
“You know where I’m going, fuck you!”
The fucking nerve of him to ask that. What was wrong with him? The rest of the conversation wasn’t any better. It sounded like some stupid break up between two teens, as if Michael had cheated on him with some hooker instead of lying about the past decade or so.
“Trevor, come on!”
“Fuck you Michael! Soon enough, I will.”
He was on his way to the air field, and dialed up Ron as soon as he could. He needed to get out of here before Michael could stop him.
“Trevor? It’s great to uh..”
“Is there a plane I can use? Get me across country?”
“Sure! Sure. We got one fueled up for a trip south of the border.”
“I’m taking it.”
“Is everything okay, man?”
“Everything is not okay. Nothing has ever been okay but I’m going up there to see it for myself. I’m going to see an old friend alright? If you’re where I think you are buddy...”
Trevor gripped the steering wheel harder until his knuckles turned white. Tears stung his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it out.
“I don’t know why I didn’t see it. I guess.. I guess I didn’t want to. Fuck!”
He clutched his phone tightly as he spoke, cracking the already shattered screen more. His voice was faltering, and it became harder to speak clearly.
“Maybe I knew all along. I’m gonna find out for sure and I’m gonna... do something about it! God there was always something wrong with that job, what went down after I guess I-“
The tears made their way down his face. His voice trembled and threatened to crack.
“I guess I wanted to believe- Fucking.. Fucking flea circus!”
He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Too many things began to resurface. Seeing red, he just cried out to Ron, still on the phone patiently listening to him rant.
“Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”
“I’m sorry Trevor...”
He slammed on the gas as he approached the airfield. Running over to the plane, he hopped in and began his journey to Ludendorff. As he left, storm clouds poured in and darkened the sky. A thick rain accompanied by the thunder and lighting combo shook the small plane he was in. He braced himself for the rest of the trip there and kept going.
Ludendorff was just like he remembered. Cold, empty, and super fucking depressing. Why was the midwest like this all the time? Sure, living it up in Sandy Shores wasn’t the most ideal but for fucks sake, at least it was warm. He pulled up to the cemetery shortly after landing, and hurried off to find that God forsaken grave. After glancing at each passing gravestone, there it was. The late great Michael Townley’s place of burial.
“Who you got in here..?”
He scoffed, knowing his answer.
“As if I need to ask...”
It took forever to reach the coffin. The wood was brittle, which meant it would be easy enough to pry open and see who was actually in Michael’s place. He had been so caught up in his digging he didn’t notice a set of steps coming at him.
“You’re wasting your time.”
Trevor was wasting his time? No, he was making perfectly good use of it. Michael was wasting his if anything. Flying all the way out here for what? No, don’t say it... Was it finally gonna happen? Was Michael waiting for the opportunity to finally take a pop at him and leave his carcass for good? To toss him right into the grave with Brad? He didn’t want to believe so but hey, it’s Michael. Who knows what he’ll do. He couldn’t bear to listen to another word that came out of his mouth, and knew he needed to get the jump on him.
“You reptilian motherfucker!”
How did it end up here? Why was he pointing a gun at Michael? What the fuck was he doing? He didn’t want to kill him. He never did, even if he had a million justifiable reasons to.
“I didn’t want it to have to come to this.”
There it was again. The fucking lying. That same exact fucking lying that got them here to begin with.
“Yes you did! You just don’t have the fucking balls to do it! But I do!”
But Trevor was also a hypocrite. He didn’t have it in him to ever go through with killing Michael. No matter what the son of a bitch did to him, he meant too much to Trevor for him to ever consider killing the man himself. He didn’t want to think about being the cause of him dying for good.
“I’ve got more to lose than you!”
“Never a truer word has been spoken, brother.”
He said that with as much malice as he could muster. Michael was the farthest fucking thing from being a brother. This was a man he had loved. Hell, still loved, despite it feeling more and more like a stranger before him with each encounter they had.
“Now.. pull the fucking trigger.”
The air was too still. It was choking him, making him feel frozen. Sure, weather played a part in the feeling but this... was different. His blood felt like ice. He couldn’t do it.
“You ain’t got the guts.”
Neither of them could do it. Even if he fired he knew he’d miss. Michael had the upper hand here.
“Take the fucking shot!”
Wait. Was Michael... crying? No. No way the great Michael fucking Townley was actually crying over this. That motherfucker. He’s such a fucking fraud. A coward. Always running. Running from Trevor, his past, his problems, his family and his fucking emotions.
His train of thought had been interrupted when he heard snow faintly crunching not too far from them.
“What was that?-“
A noise shot through the tense air that surrounded them. Woosh. Fuck. No. It couldn’t be- Ow. No. No fucking way. He looked down in awe and there it was, a distinct bullet hole, pierced through his torso. It nearly missed his heart, but was most certainly in a spot to do enough damage to him. He looked back up at Michael, mouth slightly agape leaking with the blood that began to pool in his mouth. Peaking behind him, he saw two figures lingering far behind. The fucking Triads. Of course, how could he forget? It’s not everyday you slam the head of a Chinese mobster’s son into a post. Fucking shit. If only he hadn’t messed with Tao…
He was fucked, and he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he felt himself wanting to collapse on the ground. Michael looked at him in pure disbelief, eyes wide enough to pop from his head. Normally Trevor would giggle at the sight, but any noise from him would be a gurgle of blood in place of it.
“…Trevor?”
That was enough to knock him to the ground.
“Mr. Phillips! Mr. Cheng wants a word with you!”
Michael whipped his head back, and began dragging the two of them to cover. Was that supposed to be a fucking warning shot?? The one who shot Trevor spoke in Chinese to the other gunman, then spoke in English to the duo.
“Phillips! You and your boyfriend cannot hide from us!”
Michael grabbed his gun and started firing back, clipping the two in the front instantly.
“Trevor… what the fuck did you get into?! What are they on about? I… I’m not…”
Trevor couldn’t speak. He could only murmur at the man beside him.
“Trevor, seriously, you better answer me because I’m pretty fucking lost here-“
He angrily turned his head back to find Trevor on the verge of slipping out of consciousness, his face dropping at what was before him.
“Ah, Trevor! Shit!”
Before Michael could help him out, a van burst through the gate to the left, and more yelling ensued.
“Get out the van! Go find them!”
Michael panicked, pushing his gun into Trevor’s limp hands so he could grab the dead Triad henchman’s sturdier gun. He fired and clipped a few more men, trying his best to keep an eye on Trevor. His breathing was shallow, and he attempted to prop himself up so he could fire at them too.
“Trevor, what the fuck is going on? Who are these guys?”
“It’s the fucking,” He winced, pushing himself onto his knees so he could grab the side of the grave they hid behind. He spit out some blood that leaked from his mouth, staining the snow beneath them.
“The God damn Chinese, sugar tits.”
“Why are they-“
“Ask questions later, I’m fucking bleeding out here.”
Trevor forced himself to fully stand, his legs wobbling slightly. He fired a few more rounds, face contorted in pain. Another bullet flew by him, grazing his side.
“Fuck! Ow!” He growled.
“T, what in the hell are you doing?! Get down!”
“Fuck off you fucking leech! I can-“ He spit out more blood.
“I can handle this myself!”
He groaned, keeping his aim as still as he possibly could, which wasn’t very still at all. Stubborn as ever, Trevor went in guns blazing. He used not only the gun Michael had forced into his hands, but also the one he had brought with him. Several more shots fired at him until he felt a hand yank him back to the ground. He fell with a slight thump, and pain jolted through him again.
“You crazy bastard! We’re getting the fuck out of here, but that can’t exactly be accomplished if you’re dead!”
“Oh please! You already want me dead you fat fucking snake!” He wheezed out.
“Jesus Christ- Trevor. I already told you-“
“Shit, Mikey-”
Before either one could do anything about it, a Triad that had snuck up on them pistol whipped Michael in the back of the head. Trevor scrambled backwards and attempted to get on his feet, but to no avail. In a last minute effort, he lifted Michael’s gun and fired. For someone who was labeled a lousy shot by his partner, he felt that Michael would’ve been proud of his aim at that moment in time. A clean shot, right between the fucker’s eyes. He grinned slightly, adrenaline still coursing through him. He barked out a laugh, forgetting how much of a chore it was to allow any noise to escape him. It caused him to break into a coughing fit, spitting up more blood onto the snow. He looked from the small circle of blood that formed in front of him, back to Michael’s limp body. He shoved him slightly, trying to nudge him back into consciousness.
“Mikey. Michael. Get up. We gotta go like you said-“
He heard another van pull up. Then another. Fuck.
“You gotta be shitting me..”
Trevor, disregarding his wounds weakening him to the point his vision grew spotty, swapped his handgun for the gun Michael grabbed. He tried his best to prop the other man up against a grave, well out of the Triad’s line of sight. He pushed through any pain he felt, still riding his adrenaline high, wiping the rest of them out one by one. He rushed back over to Michael, who was stirring awake.
“Michael, for fucks sake get up already! Jesus I’m still fucking bleeding and I have to save your ass right now? Come on!”
He was finally able to stand, and Trevor slung Michael’s arm around his shoulder, helping him regain his balance. They helped one another walk through the mess of snow, blood, and bodies to get to the rental car, which surprisingly was still in alright shape. Across the train tracks, one more van started to pull up, right before the nightly train passed through town.
“Haha! Thank you train for being useful this time!”
He forgot how much it hurt to laugh, clutching his side and muttering curses under his breath as the two raced over to the car. Michael hopped in the driver’s seat after placing Trevor in the passenger’s side. Trevor’s adrenaline rush began to die down along with the rest of him. Michael raced out of the cemetery, narrowly escaping the left over henchmen. Glancing over at Trevor, he realized how shit of a shape he was in. Despite not living in North Yankton in close to 10 years, he still remembered where all the nearby hospitals were. It wasn’t ideal, considering what they were doing up there and who they were and what not, but it was better than having Trevor die on the spot.
“Hey, don’t you fucking die on me right now buddy. There’s no way you ain’t surviving the shit show we just went through, which only happened thanks to you.”
Trevor asked himself why Michael was still giving him snide remarks about his unruliness. He figured now wasn’t the time to really argue, but still tried nonetheless.
“You… fuckin’ snake.. you think you’re so..”
“I’m so what Trevor? No you know what- Don’t speak right now, but try to stay awake, please?”
“Mmph..”
The ride out of Ludendorff was quiet. The radio was off, and neither one chose to speak. Michael of course was driven mad by the silence.
“…Look. Trevor I- I fucked up. There’s nothing I can do now to fix it, no matter how many times I apologize. But you do- You do know that I cared about you then, and I care about you now…”
Trevor did nothing but grunt in response, eyelids heavy. Michael sighed.
“We’re almost to a hospital. They’ll fix you up good, and- and you’re gonna be fine. You ain’t dying on me yet. I mean- you’ve survived worse? You.. I…”
He huffed out a breath, gripping the steering wheel tight. The rest of the ride was silent, save for Michael making sure Trevor was still alive and conscious. They made it to the hospital, with Michael carrying him fireman style, seeing as Trevor was very lanky compared to him. He called out for someone to help, using his gift of lying to say that Trevor was just shot by a random mugger, so the report back wouldn’t seem too suspicious. He patiently waited for word back from a doctor, eventually seeing someone come to him with a clip board.
“Are you… Franklin?”
Michael had been smart enough to give them both fake names, but he just blurted out the first two names that came to mind. Right now, he went by Franklin, and for all they knew Trevor was Lamar.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Your friend is in critical condition, but you got him here just in time. Any later and he wouldn’t have made it.”
The last sentence caused Michael’s ears to ring.
“He’s going to be out of surgery soon, the bullet wound was pretty deep.” The doctor narrowed their eyes slightly, getting ready to write the report down.
“You said that he was mugged?”
“Yeah. The guy fired at him and ran off. Didn’t get a good look at his face.”
“Hmm… well alright. I’ll let you know when your friend is ready for visitors.”
The rest of the night was painfully slow. By the time Trevor was out of surgery, he was still hopped up on morphine, allowing him to rest properly for the first time in forever. Michael sheepishly walked in, careful not to be too loud. He made his way over to Trevor’s side, sitting in the seat next to his bed. He hadn’t seen Trevor look so content like that in so long. Not since... those days. He spoke to himself, seeing as Trevor was fast asleep.
“You worry me so much you dumbfuck… why do you pull the shit you pull? I mean.. shit. I… I love you, man. I do. But what if you died without ever hearing that from me again? Is that the reason why you get like this? Shit. Right. I’m such a fucking idiot.”
Besides everything about Ludendorff, it angered Trevor to his core that Michael could never admit he loved Trevor unless he was drunk or alone. In this instance, he technically was. Trevor was peacefully dreaming, while Michael felt restless. He proceeded to fumble around for his cellphone to reach out to Franklin, who had been wondering what happened to them. He knew Franklin would probably be up anyway.
Yo Mike, where u at? Trevor too, Lamar n I gotta do one last job wit him.
F
Currently in North Yankton kid. Trev found out about Brad. Some Chinese gangsters rolled on us, T got shot. Be home soon hopefully.
M
Oh shit. Stay safe out there homie. See u soon ig.
F
Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking back up at Trevor. He tried to think about what he would do next. Knowing that visiting hours were limited, he felt a twinge of guilt knowing he’d have to leave Trevor alone for a night after what happened. But it was late, and he couldn’t stay there overnight. He figured he’d have to bunk in some cheap motel for the time being. Just until Trevor and him were ready to leave North Yankton. He spoke to the doctor from before to let them know he would come back the next morning. When he arrived at the nearest shit motel, he still couldn’t find it in him to sleep. He was tired, sure, but his mind wouldn’t allow him to drift off. Even if he did, he would find himself jolting awake, the scene of Trevor getting shot playing over and over in his head. He’d almost been responsible for Trevor’s death once, he couldn’t let it happen for real. What would he do anyway if he did die? He quickly brushed the thought off, not wanting to consider the possibilities.
He returned to the hospital the next morning, half awake from the lack of sleep. Visiting hours were early, and he wanted to get them both out of here as fast as he could. Walking to Trevor’s room, he saw the man sitting upright looking out the window. North Yankton may have been cold as a bitch, but from time to time it had real pretty sunrises. He knocked lightly on the door, and Trevor turned to face him.
“Hey, T…”
He couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“I thought you left.”
“Visiting hours are limited, T. You should know that by now.”
He didn’t say anything in response, facing back towards the window instead. Michael sat down in one of the chairs across from him.
“You.. you worried me. I thought-“
“You thought what, cupcake? That I’d just die on the spot, and you could just leave my dead body there-“
“Trevor! For the last time that wasn’t my fucking plan!”
Their voices steadily increased above the normal level it should’ve been for a hospital setting.
“Then why did you have a fucking gun, huh Mikey?”
“I could ask the same for you!”
“Oh of course, turn the situation onto me again-“
“You brought a gun for what, Trevor?!”
“That’s not the issue at hand here!”
“Yes it is!”
A voice chimed into their argument.
“Excuse me. You,” A nurse who walked in pointed at Trevor.
“You need to rest. And sir, I’m not sure who you are, but if you want to stay as a visitor I suggest you lower your voice and behave.”
The two men looked at each other angrily before sitting back down. The nurse exited, most likely wanting to return later so Michael could discuss discharging him. Silence filled the room briefly.
“T… I meant what I said.” His voice had dropped to a whisper.
Trevor didn’t look him in the eye. His arms were crossed, and he just looked out the window.
“I could’ve lost you.”
The other man still said nothing.
“I could’ve lost you and you would’ve died not knowing I..” He trailed off.
Trevor turned back to look at Michael while speaking.
“Knowing what? You hiding something else from me, porkchop?”
“I…”
“Spit it the fuck out Mikey or I swear to God-“
“I love you.”
His felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, and his hands became clammy. He finally forced the words out, sober.
“I love you.” He repeated, shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Trevor while saying it. He chose to look at his feet instead.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I just.. kept thinking that you could’ve died not hearing that from me ever again.”
He didn’t notice it at first, but tears brimmed his eyes. Trevor’s scowl fell and his face softened.
“What?” Was all he could choke out.
“Don’t.. don’t make me say it again.” He said, face flushing red.
“You..” Trevor didn’t finish his sentence. He shuddered in his seat, ready to cry himself. He buried his face in his hands, muffling something incoherent.
“What?”
He lifted his head up, tears streaking his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, Michael.”
“Sorry for what?”
“For.. being like this.”
Trevor was a lot of things. You couldn’t just describe him in only one word. Michael tried sifting through the options of what he meant.
“I pushed you so hard back then I.. I thought I was losing you. I didn’t want to. All it did was make you want to leave even more.” Trevor kept sniffling.
“Trev…”
“Why Michael? Why do you do this to me?”
He wanted to ask him “Do what?”, but they both knew the answer. Michael never let his feelings be more than surface level. He was repressed and Trevor hated it. Trevor continued to cry, and the tears that Michael held in spilled.
“Hey.. don’t… don’t apologize, T. Please.”
“I..” He hiccuped.
“I’ve loved you for so long. Why couldn’t you have done the same?”
Michael kept his head down. He didn’t want to see the heartbroken expression on Trevor’s face. It only made him feel worse.
“You left me.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“But you still did. Telling me that doesn’t change anything. You became another person in my life that I loved and then you left. Same as always for me.”
Everything Trevor loved was always out of his reach. Flying, his mother, Michael, Patricia… He could go on. Nothing was ever gonna be permanent for him.
“But I’m here for you now, T. I’m not going anywhere.”
He finally looked up to see Trevor’s sad eyes burning a hole right through him. His silence told him it’d be a long while before he could believe his words.
“Now.. uh. Let’s get the fuck outta this place.”
It didn’t take long for Trevor to be discharged. The doctors had told him he should stay for another day or so, but only got an irritated response from Trevor. Figuring the duo wouldn’t budge on wanting to leave, he was signed off for clearance. They eventually found the plane Trevor flew in on, and made their way out of the state. Neither one knew if this would change anything between them, but Trevor felt more at ease around him. It would still take time and effort for any left over wounds to heal, but for right now, Trevor was content.
37 notes · View notes
companionship · 3 years
Text
okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')
fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg
the things i enjoyed:
vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it
vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me
vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it
the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.
chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place
mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad
the kiss – my god....
the things i didn't like:
hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(
chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this
vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad
vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH
chayenzo (here we go...):
NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it
i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.
but let me wallow for a second
here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other
my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next
they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.
side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god
tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills
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nessinborderland · 3 years
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Okay, I feel like ranting, and I don’t expect you to read it but it’d feel better ranting here instead of into my notes on my phone that’ll stay in that little void.
I have been friends with this girl for 12 years, we’ll call her C. And C had asked me to go to Taekwondo with her, I agreed because we had planned to do martial arts and whatnot together forever. It was supposed to be C, our other friend B and myself. But C went behind our backs and invite another girl, R. I told C that I’m not comfortable with that because R and I aren’t friends and have not seen one another since school. I have no problem with R, I think she’s a nice girl, but I’m a very anxious and awkward person. I said I think I was gonna sit this one out and not go, to which C started being rude and bringing up how she didn’t think I’d go anyways because I dropped out a school (a weird excuse, but okay). I was very upset about her bringing up school because I stopped going due to depression and my uncle died around that time. C accused me of ‘making her bad day even worse because it’s her dead mothers birthday and it’s my fault I ruined her day’. R and B too cancelled in C and she continues to speak to them but has completely thrown me from her life and hasn’t spoken to me in two weeks. She hasn’t made any form of communication with me and she calls me childish. She’s the one being childish. She made me feel like I committed a crime by not putting myself in an uncomfortable situation just to fit her needs. She uninvited me to plans and proceeded to decide to go to a Kpop night with R in a few weeks because she knows I’m going. C’s sister agrees with me that C is being very petty and irrational. C and I have Ben threw everything together since we were little and she’s letting something so small come between us and she’s replacing me with R( who might I add, C has talked so much shit on). I’m so sorry for the rant. I hope you have had a good day.
My only advice (not that you asked) is: friendships end. Even the really old we're-gonna-be-best-friends-forever ones. Sometimes because of serious stuff, other times stupid reasons like this. C is not being a good friend, and I would honestly just cut her off for good, especially if she keeps hurting you like that.
Hope things get resolved one way or another, sorry you're going through this ♥️
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blackhakumen · 3 years
Text
Mini Fanfic #786: King Dad (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)
4:12 p.m. at Smash Mansion's Dining Hall.......
Ludwig: (Sighs While Watching his Father and All of his Siblings Joyfully Spending Time With One Another From a Distance)
?????: Ludwig?
Ludwig's eyes suddenly begins to widened as he quickly turns to see that it was none other than his two mentors, Alucard and Maria, standing behind him.
Ludwig: ('Sighs in a Bit of Relief') Oh.... It's only you two....I take it you were only passing by before?
Alucard: Somewhat. We just happened to notice that you've been staring at your family for a few minutes now.
Maria: (Frowns a Bit in Worry) Is everything okay, dear? Why aren't you spending time with them?
Ludwig: I just wanted my siblings to have a chance to spend time with father, since it's Father's Day and whatnot. That and....(Sighs While Frowning a Little Himself) Our relationship with one another hasn't really been the closet throughout the years.....
Maria: What makes you think that?
Ludwig: Well, for starters, my father was frequently busy in my younger years. Whether it's trying to orchestrate a plan reign supreme and kidnap the princess, command our army and troops, or simply keep my younger siblings out of trouble of any kind. Doesn't help the fact that he gave my role of "Second in Command" to Junior once he came into the picture. Granted, I was able to get over the petty jealousy I had of him afterwards, our relationship as father and son hasn't really changed in the scheme of things........('Sigh') I know I'm the oldest and.... probably not as fun or amusing compared to all of my siblings.....But I still wish that father and I would spend time together more often...But that's only if he actually wants to spend time with me however....
Alucard: Ah. Yes. I understand that feeling far too well. The only time father and I have a bonding moment with one another was when we fought each other to the bitter death. Even that alone felt hollow and depressing considering the outcome of all of it afterwards.
Maria: I have a distant relationship with my father as well. (Frowns a bit Sadly) But that was only because he passed away when I was a lot younger......
Ludwig: (Frowns Sadly as Well) Oh no..... I am so sorry for your loss, Ms. Maria.
Maria: (Gives Ludwig a Reassuring Smile) Don't be, dear. Despite the tragedy that occurred, I'm certain that my father lived a great live before then. And I am more certain that your father would be more than happy to spend time with you if you would just ask him.
Alucard: Maria's right, Ludwig. While I think his role of being a villain is questionable, we can tell that your father cares deeply about you and your siblings equally. Which is all the more reasons why you should take every opportunity to spend as much time with him before it unexpectedly vanish.
Ludwig: Yes. You're right. It wouldn't do myself any good if I keep worrying about this dilemma at hand....(Smiles a Little) I'll try and spend the rest of the day with father as soon as the others are finish with him. (Looks Back at his Family From a Distance) Though, knowing all them, it'll probably take a while for that to happen.....
Alucard: Very well. It seems we'll have to make time for ourselves until then.
Ludwig: (Turns Back to Alucard With a Bit of Surprised Look on his Face) You two want to spend time with me at this moment?
Alucard: Why, of course. (Gives his Apprentice a Playful Smirk on his Face) You didn't think we would actually let you sit here alone and wait for the opportunity to rise, now do you?
Maria: (Smiles Brightly) We should go out and seek some refreshing ice cream.
Alucard: If we could remember where it is this time.
Ludwig: (Gives the Couple a Deadpinned Look on his Face) You've already forgotten where it is?
Maria: (Smiles Sheepishly and Sympathetically) We're terribly sorry, dear. It's been so long that we've gone there that it never crosses our minds until now. Alucard especially.
Alucard: (Turns Away While Blushing a Little) I don't have the slightest clue of what you're talking about.....
Maria: (Giggles Softly at How Cute her Vampire his Being)
Ludwig: ('Sigh') I'll bring a GPS with us.....
Two Hours Later in the Living Room.....
Ludwig: (Sighs Once More While Sitting Down on the Sofa) Home at last.....
Bowser: (Smiles Brightly at Ludwig Beside Him) Hey, kiddo. Where you been all day?
Ludwig: Around town. I was taking my mentors out for ice cream.
Bowser: The vampire couple, huh? They already forget where it was?
Ludwig: Afraid so. It was mostly the reason why I came back here in this time of hour. (Turns His Head to the TV Facing Him) What are you watching?
Bowser: Some reality show called Big Brother.
Ludwig: Didn't think you would be interested in that kind of genre.....
Bowser: I ain't. (Smirks Evilly at the Screen) But seeing idiots being stupid and melodramatic on live television can be pretty damn funny at times.
Ludwig: I see.....(Turns Back to Bowser) You don't mind if I watch this with you, right?
Bowser: (Smiles Brightly at his Son) Not at all, man. Enjoy the show.
Ludwig: (Simply Nodded) Thank you.
Ludwig turns back to the TV for a couple of seconds before.....
Bowser: Oh and.... Ludwig?
Ludwig: (Turns Back to Bowser Once Again) Yes, father?
Bowser: (Frowns a Bit While Looking at the TV) I know I can be lazy, forgetful, and...even inconsiderate sometimes, but.....(Turns Back to his Son) If you ever wanna spend some one on one time with your old man sometimes, don't be afraid to ask, okay? I'll do whatever I can to make time for the both for us.
Ludwig: (Stares at Bowser for a Brief Second Before Nodding Again in Agreement) I'll be sure to keep that in mind for now on. (Smiles Softly) Thank you.
Bowser: (Smiles Back at Ludwig While Gently Ruffling the Top of His Hair) You don't need to thank me for all of that. I'm always here for you kiddos! I love you, son.
Ludwig: (Heart Begins to Melt in Happiness by his Father's Words) I love you too, father.
@keyenuta
@cyber-wildcat
@caleb13frede
@26shann
@albion-93
@ma-lemons
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zdravstvuysclntse · 4 years
Text
Heyy!
Hey y’all whgfg, whoaf, I.. Am hardly here anymore, and probably won’t be again for the foreseeable future, as sad as that is. I guess this is sort of a goodbye post? Kind of? Think of it as a way to get back into contact with me on some of my more active social media platforms should you ever want to!
Long story short; I actually went down memory lane a little bit tonight with some friends, waaay back to 2017 when making stupid ass decisions was apparently the norm for me! This isn’t me bringing up ancient drama or any of that nasty biz, I guess it’s just reflection? I’m nearly twenty four now and I hopefully have a much better overall outlook on life and on my little career here in the rp community than I did way back when. 
Plain and simple; I was incredibly, incredibly volatile and quick to try and victimise myself back then. If I’m totally and brutally honest, I still get the temptation to do that even nowadays - especially throughout the duration of this horrible pandemic and the various lockdowns the UK has gone through - and recognising that has actually been a pretty recent realisation, so it looks like the lockdowns did one good thing for me. Trying to throw myself a pity party is unfortunately a big knee jerk reaction for me, which isn’t healthy, but it isn’t too late to tackle that problem - admitting there’s a problem is the first step to improving it after all.
But, really what I find pretty surprising now that I’m looking back on everything, is that I actually value the memories of what happened in and around 2017. I lost friends and writing partners who I valued, strained friendships with those I didn’t lose and I made a complete and utter asshat of myself, but that has all lead to how I approach situations today. Half of the things that happened to me wouldn’t have happened had I quit trying to start fights and seeking out drama for the sake of drama. In reality it’s entirely my own dumbass fault that I never really got back into the swing of things after that year, the maaaagical concept of blocking and just moving the hell on to things I wanted to do didn’t actually set in with me until I was way on my way to twenty one or two. 
I honestly wish I could give you all a good reason as to why it took so long to finally register with me, but really there isn’t one, apart from the fact that there was a part of me that actually enjoyed getting into scraps and stirring the pot, until it came back to bite me in the ass. Nowadays though, I’ve seen and experienced first hand, what it’s like to curate your own online experience, to stay in your own lane, to mind your own damn business and just do what you want to do. It’s fucking Magical, my dudes, it feels a little strange to say now, but I haven’t felt this secure and this happy in a fandom in years, and I wish I’d just had the foresight to just get on with what I wanted to do. Drama would’ve happened, sure, but at the end of the day it’s all down to me if I choose to get involved or not, and unfortunately back in 2017 I chose to jump in, and ended up saying a fuckton of stupid shit as a result. Mostly out of upset, mostly out of a desire to be right all the time, mostly out of anger, which are three things I am - bit by bit - pushing out of my time online.
So; I’m sorry. I’m not who I was back then, and the people from here who I still chat to on occasion now can hopefully see that change in me. Growth is important and you can’t really grow without looking back and cringing a lot at the things you did and the shit you said - and believe me I’ve been doing a lot of that tonight.
Getting hung up on drama and whatnot just.. Isn’t worth it, I don’t know why I thought it ever was; especially since in the grand scheme of things I was way too old to be even thinking about stoking the fire beyond just, stating where I stood on some issues and leaving it at that, and admitting when I was wrong. People on every single God forsaken social media platform are going to get fucked off at things regardless of how well you word a ‘hot take’ or how well you research an opinion, and there’s nothing you or I can do to change that, besides just thinking about how best to handle a situation without causing them or yourself any upset. The internet is, wild like that.
If anyone from back in 2017 does stumble across this - unlikely but there’s always a chance - hey, hi, I’m still willing to stand by the fact that I disagreed with a lot of you, but I’m also willing to admit the fact that I was petty, immature, quick to victimise myself and ultimately behaved in a way that made the situation worse for myself while doing so. So, I’m sorry to you guys too. Roleplaying on this platform was easily some of the best and most creative years of my life, and at some point I was insanely glad to have met all of you, so that’s what I’m going to remember - not the fact that we disagreed and argued and ended our friendships on a bad note.
Ahhhgyiuh and if anybody on here does want to go ahead and contact me on some of my more active platforms: Twitter (sfw) Twitter (nsfw - 18+ only please y’all) Wordpress Other tumblr DM me for discord if anybody wants it.
I guess that’s?? It?? It feels good to reflect, this might not be the most well written and laid out post, but really I am just babbling, and it’s... 3am.
Thanks a lot, y’all. Get vaccinated if you can. Wear a mask. Wash ya hands. 
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amjustagirl · 3 years
Note
DIFFERENT ANON BUT I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND WHAT YOUR ANON SAID (about astrophile and broken compass few minutes ago). I’m a mean and petty ass betch so i’d burn the flowers and the invitations and then let my friends share the pics of it in social media (bc i,,, did not have an insta and whatnot,,, i only have whatsapp,,,) so he get the meaning behind my actions 😐
if oikawa is determined, then i’m stubborn- notoriously so ckdhjdjd if he still cant stop then i’d ring him up and told him to stop it and i wont go please i think i need help and this somehow happened in real life ha ha ha ha ha,,,, btw your writing is so fucking good i ate it up like i was starving ANYWAYS SORRY FOR RANTING IN HERE FUUUUH
oh darling i 100% would do the same COS I'M MEAN AND EVIL TOO but the reader in the astrophile / broken compass is too kind for her own good. no you're FINE and i getchu, totally - but! i mean, people do stupid things out of guilt, and the reader doesn't even wanna engage with him so she pretty much just ignores the heck out of oikawa.
and THANK YOU pls pls do NOT apologise for ranting, i love listening to you!!! pls i'm grateful that you've given my writing time out of your day, so thank you thank you thank you~~~
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missinghan · 5 years
Text
dawn ⤖ lee minho
❖ genre : runaway! au; demon!au; fluff; angst
❖ word count : 10k.
❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol 
❖ summary : it seems like everyone has their own guardian angel, everyone but you because you’ve given up on Jesus the moment you come down to Lee Minho’s level and shake hands with the Devil.
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one.
Your dad is definitely not gonna approve of you hanging by the bar alone after midnight. 
It all happened too fast, and you don’t even know where you’re going next. After a call from your manager, which you almost fell asleep as he rambled about boring paperwork, until he dropped the bomb. He said he was sorry for what he’s gonna say next and turned out the label wanted to cut you loose. The entire universe was completely shattered right in front of your eyes. You were utterly speechless when the line went dead so long story short, you packed your bag and ran away. 
Like a coward. 
You stare blankly at the half-empty glass of Martini in your hand before chuckling lowly. Because life is a little son of a bitch, who’s born with the power to pull on everyone’s strings as if people are a bunch of puppets for whatever gods up there to entertain themselves. Getting signed into a music production company right after your graduation swept your life over with joy. Your parents were… overwhelmed to say the least but they still wanted you to move to Seoul. Two years later, your life once again was flipped upside down because of a single phone call. They didn’t even bother to call you in and meet face-to-face. 
“Cheers to this motherfucker.” You almost laugh at your own miserable state but suppress it and down the whole glass in one go. “Another one.” You tell the barista absently and he just sighs before starting to mix your drink. 
“Tough times ?” He leans over the counter and slides your drink across the wooden surface. 
You gratefully take the glass, words slurred between hiccups. “You have no fucking idea.” Your eyes travel down from his defined features gleaming under the neon light to the name tag hanging off his white dress shirt. It reads ‘Kim Woojin’. You shake your head to lure the weariness away while your right hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out some cash. 
But before you can place them on the table, Woojin stops you abruptly. “Keep a hold of them. This last one’s on me.” He sighs defeatedly. Judging by how you look right now, he must have thought that you’re some petty college girl who just got into a fight with her boyfriend and now you have nowhere to stay for the night so essentially, he wants to be certain that you’ll have enough money for a cheapass motel of some sort.
Woojin pats his wet hands onto the black apron wrapped around his hip. “You’ll need them more than I do.” And you feel kinda bad for him, partially because this place doesn’t serve cheap vodka like most bars, and partially because you’re now a somewhat burden to the bartender. “Listen, no matter how much bad shit happens, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like that punk over there has already had his eyes on you the whole time.” He winks at you playfully before walking over to his coworker at the other side of the counter.
Speaking of the Devil… literally, not even sarcastically, a hollow presence seems to come into sight the moment you place your lips on the rim of the glass. You automatically reach your hand backwards only to find exactly what you’re looking for. “Do not touch me.” You deadpan, normally you would have felt bad by now upon your sudden discourtesy but unfortunately you’re not in the mood to be kind today. Hearing his melodic chuckle, you yank his hand away rather harshly, the coldness of his touch still chills you to the bone.
“Why so sad, bunny ?” He moves over to sit down on the nearby wooden bench, lips curled into a devilish smirk. Out of 7 billion people on this glorious plant, he chooses to pester a mundane mortal like you. Out of 365 days of the year, he chooses to visit you on the worst day of your life. Lee Minho is worse than Lucifer, it’s official.
Not enjoying your dull state, he cocks a brow at you. “You’re jobless because that stupid label doesn’t need you anymore. And now what ? Are you gonna be petty and depressed about it for the rest of your life ? Because if so, you’ll have a really shitty life Y/N. Do you really want your demons to come out and conquer the path ahead like it’s their fucking playground ?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Said a demon himself.”
“Then aren’t humans the closest things that we have to demons alive ?” Minho almost snickers at your suggestive remark, but he wouldn’t admit that it did sting a bit. After all, he is a demon, an epitome of a creature that’s second to Lucifer and his descendants generation, highly worshipped and exceptionally feared. And he’s low-key impressed that you didn’t throw yourself out the window when he stepped out of a wisp of black smoke the day you two first encountered.
You on the other hand didn’t know that he was too utterly soft for you to actually erase your memories. From then on, he would visit you occasionally at the godly hour when you’re close to kicking yourself in the process of composing or when you accidentally fucked up something. ‘Til this day, you still don’t know whether his concern for you is pure sincerity or he just finds your first world problems very amusing. You can’t tell either way.
Taking another sip of your drink, you groan slightly at the slight burn in your throat from the strong alcohol. “I mean ... fair point.” Your lips pursed unknowingly. “I don’t know Minho… I think I must have done something fucking messed up to be kicked out of the game like that. I wasn’t even thinking straight, you know, just packed my stuff and drove downtown. Ugh now I feel like shit.”
The demon in front of you glares at the glass of Martini coldly. He’s not letting you finish that shit after who knows how much alcohol that Woojin has permitted you to drink. “Do you think that overcoming cowardice is easy ? If it was that easy, everyone would go outside to get some fresh air, smell some flowers, meet new people; not fucking hide behind their screens and whatnot while talking trash about others like a bunch of scaredy-cats.” Minho spats, swiftly taking your drink away before you gulp it again.
Funny enough, you’re sitting at a bar with a demon, who’s obviously so done with your shit, but also the one that you have least expectations for listening and giving you advice. Just like how that one song goes.
Well, I shook hands with the devil
Down on the south side
And he bought us both a drink
With a pad and a pencil sat by his side
I said, "Tell me what you think".
Except that Minho didn’t buy you a drink, he actually stole yours.
“I may not know much about your world, but I’m confident that you’re very talented and passionate about what you’re doing. I saw how much effort you put into your work, staying up after midnight, heck, you barely got any sleep when you’re still working for that shitty company. I saw how much you care, Y/N and I don’t give two fucks about how much you’re doubting yourself because you’re so much more than that. I know you got this, you’re as stubborn as a human being can be, you’re not gonna let a tiny cut or bruised knee hold you back, are you ?”
You shake your head slightly, starting to acknowledge his words. You don’t get why you never noticed this but for a demon, Minho gives really good advice. In spite of his cocky personality because he thinks that he has every right to sass every human being out whenever wherever he wants to, his company always makes you feel fuzzy inside. It’s almost heartwarming but that makes no sense because demons are nowhere near ‘sweet and caring’.
A strange look flashes in his eyes when his eyes meet yours but before you can properly react, it vanishes. “You’re not drinking ever again… at least not for the time being.” He tells you off with his eyes before chugging the whole glass. Woah, good shit, he admits internally. And he’s mildly surprised that you’re taking this better than he’d thought. Other young producers would have been bawling their eyes out by now, not talking to a creature from the underworld.
“Alcohol helps me sleep.” You pout slightly, feeling the need to actually pay Woojin back when you get paid again. Oh wait… but you’re practically unemployed. “Insomnia is painstakingly arbitrary, like a needle that’s constantly pricking my spine whenever I’m trying to get comfy in bed. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight, thanks a lot.” You huff and lean over on the wooden counter, cheek pressed against your left upper arm.
Although Minho thinks that you look ridiculously cute right now with tinted pink cheeks and messy hair, he’s still not gonna buy you another drink. “They do say that insomnia is just another word for chit chatting with the demons during bedtime. And you’ve already wolfed down three fucking Vodka Martinis by the time I teleported here, aren’t you concerned about the stupid hangover tomorrow morning ? I swear to Lucifer— are you even listening to me right now ?”
Minho asks in disbelief when you stay unresponsive. The demon peels his eyes away from the empty glass and turns his head only to find you already fallen asleep, like a bear in hibernation. Your eyes are closed shut, chest heaving up and down rhythmically as you drift away from the cruel reality and into dreamland. Truth be told, you tend to fall asleep whenever he’s lecturing you a lot, and that gives him an excuse to stay for a little more than he should.
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two.
Hangover hits you with a bang, almost knocks you out cold. But it’s not going to let you pass out, at least not before you start regretting the amount of alcohol that you chugged last night. Your eyes are still screwed shut, refusing to flutter open as your head throbs uncontrollably. Usually you would have been awake by now since you’re dumb enough to have white curtains instead of colored ones which helps the sunlight goes right through your apartment.
But something seems off today because there’s nothing that’s bothering your eyes. And you would definitely sleep in if it wasn’t for the strange feeling beneath your skin. Wait a second… A worrisome feeling runs down your spine, causing your eyes to open. You look down and check your clothes properly, everything stays the same except for… hold on, since when did you have a silky black sheet ?
“You woke up, finally. Be grateful that you’re on time for breakfast.” Someone’s voice booms in the distance when your eyes adjust themselves on the foreign surroundings. The studio apartment in front of you has your jaw dropped to the floor. Minimal yet modern pieces of furniture, a fully equipped kitchenette and an enormous window that gives you a breathtaking view of the whole city. This isn’t your apartment, is it ?
You groan loudly before pushing yourself off the bed and shiver slightly when your feet come in contact with the cold floor. “Tylenol’s on the table, you’re welcome.” Minho says nonchalantly as he has his back against you. You drag yourself to the dining table and pop the pills into your mouth before downing the glass of water beside them.
Yeah, no, you’re not drinking ever again.
“What are you doing ?” You ask him in a raspy tone and sniff your nose continuously at the aroma that’s filling the entirety of the apartment. Minho stays silent, deciding to fully concentrate on his current task. When you suddenly approach him from behind and place your head lazily on his shoulder, he almost drops the pot of freshly made soup. His chest swells a bit whenever you get close to his body, whether it is because it’s all in his head or just you having that kind of effect on him, he dares not to know.  
“Tsk, you’re in my way, shoo.” He sneers, motioning for you to move so that he can transfer the pot over to the table in peace. Minho quickly scoops the thick liquid into a smaller bowl and gives you a look. You just stare at the hearty soup in complete awe, mouth slightly watered. No one has ever cooked for you before, much less a pot full of hangover soup. And you would be lying if you said that you’re not touched right now because you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve had homemade food.
Lee Minho never changes, still ever so caring.
He sits down at the table and pushes the bowl towards you. “Eat this and write me a 1000 words essay for instant feedback later.” Without a word, you automatically take a spoonful into your mouth, almost choking because of how hot it is. “Dude, it’s not 1945 anymore. If this goes on, you’re not gonna die from anything other than choking yourself.” He purses his lips at your eagerness, dabbing the excess soup away with a napkin on the corner of your lips.
After coughing furiously, you figure that your voice can finally function normally. “I didn’t know that you can cook, god this soup is everything.” In the next ten minutes, you finish inhaling the whole bowl as if you’ve walked through the desert, searching for an oasis for a week straight.
You’ve never let anyone cook for you other than your parents because one, none of your friends can cook, Changbin almost burnt your apartment down while Jisung came up with the idea to crack eggs with a knife; and two, you still remember a creepy story you once heard on a podcast vividly. Basically, there’s this girl who allowed her date to make her a meal on their very first encounter. She was hospitalized a week later, suspecting food poisoning but the test results came out as cannibalism. Yikes.
“Demons eat souls, not human flesh you paranoid bitch.” Minho reads your thoughts in a matter of seconds before taking his wooden spoon and smack you on the head. He looks unimpressed right now, he really does because he’s so over your delusional ass from binge-watching way too many investigation related shows at three a.m. “They’re not even that tasty, I’d rather have a boring sandwich.”
You scoff at him, rubbing the spot where he hit previously. “You can’t have mine then, it’s too dark for you.”
“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” He almost grit, lips pressed into a thin line.
You stand up from the wooden stool and carry the dishes over to the newly renovated silver sink. “This is your place ?” You ask while turning on the faucet to spray water all over the dirty bowl. “It’s really nice, not gonna lie. Just not as nice as mine.”
When you’re having your back against him, Minho looks somewhat guilty. What would Hyunjin say if he found out that his roommate brought a mundane mortal home and even made her a bowl of hangover soup ? “For the time being, it is.” Whatever, Hyunjin’s staying in Italy for a good two weeks anyway. With a little bit more effort of ridding off your human scent and reorganize some stuff, Minho can pretty much pass without being suspected. “And what do you expect ? That I’m gonna leave you at the bar where sketchy people are getting wasted ? FYI, a demon doesn’t necessarily have to own a place where it’s just full of miserable souls swimming around. I take my beauty sleep very seriously, actually, all of us do. Even Satan.”
You carefully line the dishes up on the white rack next to the sink and sighs. “Beauty sleep ? I don’t know her.” When you turn around to face Minho, his lips are slightly curled upwards. “What, Minho ?” You ask, slightly annoyed.
He props his head onto his palms and cocks his head to the side. “What will you do now ? Going home is a no-no, obviously, and I believe that your coworkers/best friends are flipping the whole city upside down looking for you so your apartment isn’t really an option anymore. What’s next Y/N ?”
You think for a bit and hum. “Technically I’m running away ...so…why not make the best out of it ?” Then, something clicks and your eyes lit up in mischief. “I have an idea. It’s genius, a fucking genius idea.”
Minho immediately shakes his head furiously, looking like he’s encountering a panic attack. “Hate it.”
“You love it, don’t even lie to yourself.”
“It’s humiliating.”
You reach your hands inside your pocket to look for your keys. “Too late.” That’s when Minho knows that he doesn’t have a say in this.
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three.
“You know what’s more fun than this ?” Minho supports himself on his knees as his breaths come in short, he feels like he’s gonna throw up. Being on a rollercoaster is most definitely scarier than attending a meeting with the Underworld Authority. He still doesn’t get why humans enjoy torturing themselves as a form of pure entertainment when they can do something like educate themselves by reading more books. “Hearing Lucifer play the fiddle, the Devil plays it damn good and a fun demon to hang around. He’s a real entertainer, trust me. Just hire a lawyer beforehand if you’re signing any contract with him.”
Minho’s making it sound like you’re planning on having ‘a thing’ with Lucifer meanwhile he practically follows you everywhere, watches your every move and you think that’s close enough for an example of the infamous slavery contract.
You run a hand through your hair and exhale in satisfaction. Since middle school, you haven’t really got a chance to come to amusement parks before. You’re far too caught up with the new tempo to life these days. “Come on, it’s not that bad. It ain’t my fault when you can’t teleport us both to somewhere further.” You almost laugh at his current state; disheveled hair, beads of sweat rolling down on his forehead, and he looks as pale as a ghost like he just saw one. Not like he’s terrified of ghosts or anything, actually, he might be scared of heights.
“You can’t teleport with me for fuck’s sake, even when I want to, you’ll end up disintegrating into dusts forever because your mortal body doesn’t have enough energy to recollect itself piece by piece.” Minho grits and shakes his head slightly to adjust the messy mop of hair on his head. He looks really cute, you think. Like a cat that’s trying to clean itself but can’t quite reach the itchy spot.
Upon your stubbornness because he knows too well that you just wanna see him being drowned in misery, Minho can’t help but roll his eyes. “And can you get any dumber ? You have a fucking Range Rover and a valid license. Technically, there’s no law against driving with a demon sitting in your vehicle. Ugh, I really should have left you at the bar last night.”
Right when you’re about to snap back at him with a witty comment, your phone buzzes loudly. And your eyes are about to jump out of their sockets the moment you open up the device. There are more than thirty missed calls, from your family and friends along with countless texts filled with nothing but concern. Changbin and Jisung both work under the same label as you so you assume that your family already knew everything. Now you feel guilty for running away so spontaneously because after all, you do have people who are always willing to be there for you.
[ 3:25pm ]
jisung | dude, I’m outside, open up
jisung | we know everything already
changbin | Y/N I’m bringing food over, you’re gonna binge-watch Netflix with us whether you want to or not
[ 3:27pm ]
jisung | uhm, hello ? Y/N ?
changbin | we’re breaking in if you’re not coming out, FYI
[ 3:35pm ]
jisung | you know I have the keys right, we’re gonna go in
changbin | this isn’t fucking funny
jisung | stop being such a stubborn piece of shit
[ 3:36pm ]
jisung | Y/N where the fuck are you ?!
changbin | …. look, just go home, your family are worried sick
[ 3:45pm ]
jisung | at least call me back ?
changbin | whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t do it
[ 9:23pm ]
chan | call me, I’m not going anywhere
Sensing your racing thoughts and seeing your tense posture, Minho swiftly takes your phone away from your hand and drops it into his pocket. The last thing he wants to see is you curled up into a ball and cry alone in the bathroom. “You’re so rude ? What kind of human are you, Y/N ? This is how you’re treating your date ?” He huffs, arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid. But wait, a date ?
“This is not a date, Lee Minho, stop flirting with me.” You knit your brows together in confusion when his eyes twinkle. What’s with his demon nature being on steroids right now ? “Give me my phone.” You order.
“It’s a date when I say that it’s a date.” Minho reaches his hand outwards and links his fingers with yours. He quickly narrows the proximity between the two of you, backing you up against a wall. Utterly speechless, you find yourself dumbfoundedly melting into his touch. How can a demon possess such radiant warmth and tenderness ? Is it all just a facade or does he seem more human when he’s around you, you can’t tell either way. But what you do know is that when you relax a bit and let him hold your hand properly, it fits like a glove.
Minho cocks his head and cracks a smile. For the longest time, you’ve never noticed anyone looking at you with so much sincerity and affection. Maybe it’s all in your head after all. “What now ? You wanna watch a movie and put our hands into the popcorn at the same time to see what’ll happen or nah ?” You question, but it feels more like a question towards yourself.
Minho chuckles lightheartedly. “You’re so damn predictable Y/N.”
The rest of the night is absolutely magical. You feel like you’re acting in one of those One Direction’s music videos that’s not the typical ‘too good to be true’ kind. It really does remind you a lot of ‘Night Changes’ when Minho almost slips while holding onto you like a cat that just came in contact with water. Meaning, if it weren’t for your mediocre ice-skating skills way back from middle school, everything would have been exactly like the music video itself, in which you don’t mind. Because it’s Lee Minho, because his warm presence is something you never knew you needed in your life, because you always have this sense of comfort and happiness even when he starts cursing so loudly that your ears bleed. Demon or not, him being him is truly a blessing already.
Minho says. “I told you it’s humiliating.” He links your hand into his before stuffing it inside his pocket and drags you away from the front entrance. His hand’s got a lot warmer from staying inside his coat for so long and that makes him more human than ever. In which, makes you feel fuzzy.
“You freaking loved it, you can’t tell me otherwise.” You shake your head in denial.
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes for the tenth time. “Let’s go home.”
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four.
The next day, Minho somehow convinces you to drive back to your apartment for packing. Not for running away this time, he’s had enough of that shit. But for a trip back to your hometown instead ( you really should have gone deeper into his ‘let’s go home’ from last night ). The flight will take approximately ten hours or more so he only gives you two hours to pack before leaving. You basically spend half an hour picking out clothes from the messy walk-in closet and another ninety minutes to fit all of them into your suitcase while having a mental breakdown inside your head.
Because gosh, what would they think ?
You’ve scared them all shitless for the last two days and now you’re just gonna show up at the front door and go “Hey, I’m done being miserable now.” ? Sounds like a pretty solid plan but you doubt that your mom’s not planning to beat you up with her favorite broom that’s covered in nothing but dust and spiderwebs. Not to mention, your brother is definitely gonna grill your ass for causing such a commotion in your family. You can already imagine him waiting for you at the foyer with crossed arms, getting ready to lecture the heck out of you.
“Did you lose your favorite pair of shoes or something ?” Minho suddenly fades into your room, making you jump slightly. You’ve got used to his particular ways of intruding your personal space but the demon never seems to fail at surprising you.
You glare at him. “Look who’s being rude now.”
Minho purses his lips. “I didn’t know humans were notorious for being terribly indecisive when it comes to their belongings.” He almost sneers, leaning back against your bedroom wall.
“That’s not the problem.” Yeah, that’s not the problem because not every human takes pain in packing their stuff, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. “I’m coming home after scaring the shit out of my loved ones. I wouldn’t blame them if they hated me, it’s just that I don’t know what to say. What do I say in situations like this ? School didn’t teach me that.” A sigh escapes your lips as you kick your suitcase towards the door. And you’re kinda glad that Changbin and Jisung left your apartment last night, specifically when you called them at one a.m. because you were driving back with a demon right next to the shotgun window.
Minho politely grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open for you. Now that was a first. You almost smile at his out-of-nowhere kind gesture. Normally, he would have teleported to the front porch and complained about how you’re always taking so long. “Hurry up dumbass, we don’t have all day.” He raises his brow at your thoughts.
“Tsk, you’re not the one who’s driving.”
Minho can’t drive, sadly. Partially because he doesn’t see the point in moving around in a fucking box with four wheels when he’s fully capable of teleporting from one place to another within a snap of his fingers. And partially because he can’t afford erasing some cops’ memories because they might have some kind of innovative technology that’ll automatically record when things go down. Another reason is that he might or might not chug a whole bottle of whiskey while driving just because he feels like it.
“It’s cold, roll down the windows.” Minho reminds you when he enters your car because gosh, you always love to keep the temperature at a minimum of 71 degrees even when it’s freezing outside. His cold-hearted demon ass is quaking because another cold case remains another mystery for the entirety of humanity. “You’d be a badass demon, just saying. I’m surprised that you’re still alive at this point.” He shakes his head in disapproval and leans forward to turn off the AC. Not because he’s cold but he’s afraid that you’ll actually freeze to death before you two can even make it to the airport.
You kick the brake when the first red light occurs. “Just admit it, you’re cold. If anything, you can always hold my hand.”
“Okay,” He blinks numerous time at your reply. When did you become such a brat ? You’ve been acting like him these past few days and now he knows how it feels like. Woah, he does act like an old, bitchy cat. “Who taught you that ?”
You say, sparing him a slight smirk. “You know, only the best of the best.”
“Just don’t act like that in front of your parents, will you ?” Minho scrunches his nose at your particular way of having a civil conversation. “You did tell your parents right ?”
You nod. “Yeah, I told them that I was gonna go home sooner or later. I even texted Chan— OH MY GOD,” You let out the loudest gasp whilst trying to make sharp turn at an intersection.
“What the fuck is wrong with you ?” He gasps in disbelief at your sudden outburst, holding onto the side of your car for dear life.
“I can’t just bring a demon home !” You cry out. “You’d be considered safe if it weren’t for my brother. He just happens to be home for break. God, do you know how protective he is when it comes to bringing a guy home ?!” One time, you asked your desk mate from highschool to do a project at your house and Chan didn’t even hesitate to put him on trial. Luckily, they talked things out pretty smoothly and became friends later. Now Felix’s probably the only guy who wouldn’t be thrown off a cliff for breathing in the same room as you.
Minho stares at you weirdly for a full twenty seconds, and that makes you think he’s mentally judging you, which he totally is. “Wouldn’t me being your boyfriend the best option then ?”
“Are you dumb, or are you dumb ?” You haven’t dated anyone since elementary school and the relationship didn’t even last a week. And now out of nowhere you’re just gonna bring a ‘boyfriend’ home after running away ? That’s practically equivalent to adding fuel to the fire and you doubt that Minho’s comprehend the situation correctly. That’s it, you’re officially letting all hell break loose from here. “Yeah, go ahead and be my boyfriend if you wanna sleep with the fishes.”
He throws a look at you. “Is that a challenge ?”
“Better not dress like that in front of my family then.” You glance at his bold choice of a silky wine colored dress shirt along with leather pants and combat boots. Can’t have him walking around looking like a celebrity now, can you ? Although he does look good in them… so annoying.
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
However, Minho’s outfit is most definitely the least of your worries.
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five.
“Don’t tell me that you thought this through because-“
Minho says in a hushed tone. “I did think this through, baby. Loosen up a bit.” A devilish smirk blooms on his lips as he tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear. He really needs to stop doing that because you’re already a blushing mess. He switched out his usual clothes and went for a comfortable hoodie with some jeans and sneakers. You hate him even more now because the demon easily pulled off the perfect boyfriend look.
Grimacing, you slap his hand away. “I’m not your fucking baby. And keep your hands to yourself, will you ?” And with that, you turn on your heels and make a beeline towards the kitchen where everyone’s busy setting up the table, leaving him in the living room alone.
Minho unconsciously plops himself onto the white faux leather couch and looks around in awe. Your house sort of symbolizes you because it’s minimal in the best way with a white color scheme and the occasional colorful tiny details on some of the decorative pieces. He starts pondering about how you never told him anything about your family in Australia. And although you grew up in a pretty well-off household, you didn’t flaunt your wealth. That makes you much more admirable in his eyes because not everyone can keep their mouth shut for more than two seconds when it comes to money.
Truth is, when your parents saw Minho for the very first time, they totally freaked out and drove to the nearest supermarket to shop for more ingredients. Now the house is filled with the aroma of a variety of grilled meat, vegetables, seafood and rice. He finally understands why you’re always homesick because gosh, who wouldn’t miss this kind of homemade food ? Minho props his head onto his hand as he watches your hard-working back figure from the living room, arranging the dishes onto the dining table with a smile on your face. And that stirs something inside him, he just doesn’t want to know it yet.
And Berry - your very much spoiled dog - is absolutely terrified by his dark presence. She keeps barking whenever he tries to pick her up, then ends up whimpering in the corner later. “Berry, don’t be rude ! He’s no stranger to us now.” Your mom nags while looking at Minho with an apologetic look. “Minho, honey, come join us. There’s no need to be so formal.” She offers him a seat at your family’s table warmly and he can already see where you got your smile from.
When he beams at her words and quickly takes the seat right beside you, you secretly roll your eyes at him. “I didn’t know dogs were supposed to be scared of demons. This is so obvious.” As you continue to complain about how he’s not acting naturally and all in a small tone, your hand automatically reaches for the chopsticks and picks out some lamb loin chops onto his plate. Minho simply brushes your words off, muttering a quick ‘thanks babe’ before pressing a kiss on your cheek.
Your eyes widen in surprise at his action, immediately darting towards your family members else whom have already gathered around. But before you can react properly, your dad cuts you off. “How sweet of you two.” He shows that signature ‘dad smile’ which never fails to melt your heart. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were young, dear ?” He tells your mom.
“Certainly, I still remember how—“
“Uhm, so, how did you two meet ?” Your brother - Chan - who’s sitting across the table tries his very best not to gag and changes the topic before things get out of hand. Your dad used to tell you about his first encounter with your mom, their first date and etc.. as an alternative version for the regular bedtime stories session. Chan has known too much already.
“We met at a dinner through a mutual friend during her business trip to Paris. I knew she didn’t come from Europe so if I didn’t ask for her number then, we would never meet again.” Minho has already made up a story during the dreadfully long flight, now all he has to do is read outloud. Easy mode. “We kept in touch and eventually, I moved back to Korea to meet her and stayed with her since then.”
Chan hums as a response, he doesn’t hate Minho yet, you can tell. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Y/N ? Dad was so close to talking to Felix’s parents about setting you two up.”
You gulp slightly to hide your nervousness. Under the table, Minho squeezes your hand in reassurance, and that gives you enough courage to explain slowly. “I didn’t want to freak you out with our long distance relationship. You might go nuts knowing that I’m dating a guy who I’ve only met once and he’s nearly six thousand miles away.” And setting you up with Felix ? You would never let that happen. Not in a million years. It makes you shiver just thinking about holding your highschool deskmate’s hand while walking down the aisle. “And dad, Lee Felix ? Really ? I would rather be single.”
Your dad laughs. “Come on, he’s a pretty decent boy. Too bad he’s traveling overseas right now or I might invite him over.”
“So, Minho,” Chan sips on his drink. “What do you do for a living ?” When you two arrived at the front door, he finds such little amount that Minho’s luggage holds a bit skeptical, as if your relationship and the idea of coming home happens overnight. And how he wears clothes pretty casual too for a first time meeting the parents but Chan knows better than to judge a book by its cover. However, he wants to make sure that your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t do drugs of any kind.
Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m a dancer and owns a dance studio with my friend after when I flew back to Korea. I was in Paris for an internship over the summer.” You just sit there, blinking at him in disbelief like a total dumbass. Now you’re starting to wonder how it feels like to dance with the Devil. And if it weren’t for him kicking your leg under the table, your face would have given it away.
“Hmm, interesting.” Chan nods in acknowledgement. Well, at least he’s not unemployed… could have been worse.
Your mom advises thoughtfully as she walks over to the kitchen aisle and refills the plate of beef. “Oh, and be careful with the sauce for the lamb, it’s quite hot. If you’re not good with spicy food, just leave it out.”
“No, it’s fine. Actually, I can handle spicy stuff pretty well.. unlike someone over here.” Minho glances over at you. You immediately gut him with your elbow, earning a low grunt followed by a lighthearted chuckle of your family members.
“Minho can handle spicy things only because he’s getting old. His taste buds are losing their senses.” Your comment is partially true because he once told you that he’s been around for quite awhile. Definitely a lot older than the new batch of demons. He stopped counting at some point but ensured you that it’s somewhere from fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.
Minho looks at your sternly as the corners of his lips curled up. You’re already low-key mortified of what he’s going to say. “If you’re gonna act like a brat for the rest of the night, I’ll have to make sure that your legs will lose their sense by tomorrow morning.” Yep, there it is. You’re so used to his flirtatious remarks to the point that they don’t faze you anymore but having your family witness this is another level of torture. Minho’s definitely the type of guy ( if he were an actual human being ) who can’t be bothered about publicity and would straight up kiss you in the middle of the street.
And it doesn’t help either when Chan just doesn’t laugh loudly at your ‘boyfriend’s’ less than appropriate joke, he’s also on his side. Along with your parents. “I like you, not everyone can make her shut up like that.” Your brother nods in approval, clapping happily like a seal. Your parents even supply unhelpfully. “Try to keep it down and use protection, okay kids ?” Is this what betrayal feels like ?
You feel so adopted at that moment.
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six.
“What the hell are you doing here ?” You try to groan as quietly as possible when you find Minho creeping up to you in the living room. “What part of ‘you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, wake up before everyone else then come back to my room later on’ couldn’t you understand ?” A compromise was almost made, and he fucking blew it.
He chuckles and looks at you dreamily. For a second there, you really thought that he was sleep-walking. His brown hair is in a bird nest, accommodated by a pair of plaid pants and white t-shirt. This prick never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You’re glad that at least he doesn’t sleep shirtless like your brother. It gives you major nightmares since middle school just by waking him up every morning.
“I can’t sleep on a foreign bed..” Minho pouts. He really can’t, especially when you’re not around. And he’s not risking the chance of one of your folks or Chan accidentally. barging into the room when he’s doing some voodoo shit either.
You huff tiredly and walk over to him, grabbing the pillow from his arms before throwing it on the couch along with your blanket. Well, lucky him, your parents just happen to love ginormous couches and you’re far too lazy to drag him back to your bedroom. “Come here.” You order after plopping yourself onto the soft surface, letting out a prolonged yawn. Minho takes a good ten seconds to look at you again. He can’t help but keep staring like a creep when you’re in an oversized t-shirt with shorts underneath, exposing your bare thighs. You’re too cute for your own good.
You say when he remains silent. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”
He obediently nods, quickly settling down under the blanket. You two shuffle around for a bit until no one’s uncomfortable with less than a few inches away from each other. And when you decide to flip yourself over to face the wall, Minho gently pulls your back flush against his chest. Your eyes fly open at the sudden contact. “What-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing ?” You turn around and stare at him square in the eye.
Even in the dark, his eyes are gleaming with a demonic glint of silver. He beams innocently at your threatening tone. “Get comfortable ?”
“I mean…” You hesitate for a few seconds. Because you’d hate to admit but it does feel kinda nice having his warmth radiating off from underneath his thin shirt. It makes you feel fuzzy inside, more secure, more like you’re finally home. “If you don’t mind then…” You gather up every last bit of courage and energy to scoot yourself towards him, your arms snaking around on either side and hug his torso closer, your face buried in his chest.
And it takes every single strand of willpower for Minho to not jump and teleport to the nowhere. His breath starts to quicken when your body is practically attached to his. He didn’t expect this at all. It might be because you’re exhausted from the flight so you’re just far too sleepy to be conscious of your own actions. But anyhow, he’s not against the idea of having you in his arms like this. It makes him more relaxed knowing that you’re safe in his sound right here.
So Minho drapes one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place and the other underneath his head, straddling his legs with yours to keep them warm since you’re only wearing shorts. “Thanks for dinner, by the way.” He murmurs into your hair, taking in the scent of your familiar shampoo.
“If anything, you should be thanking my parents. They looked like they just saw Jesus when you first arrived.” You say and snuggle closer to him.
He chuckles, sending vibrations to the tip of your nose. “Admit it, your family’s in love with me. Even your brother isn’t half as bad as you made it sound. I think he would actually have nothing against our wedding.”
You make a face and lift your head upwards to look at him. “Dude, it’s just really good acting. Such a shame how the other Lee Minho gets the title of an actor when you’re over here stuck with being a demon.” If you’re being completely honest, you’re kinda scared right now. Because one, all of this is just a big play and when you fly back to Korea, it may seem like nothing has ever happened. And two, if this goes way too far, your family might disown you for ‘breaking up’ with Minho when he wasn’t even your boyfriend in the first place.
“Actually, I’d be glad to take the title of being your boyfriend instead.” And the thumping force inside your chest picks up the pace as you can feel your cheeks heating up. His simple acknowledgement makes you flustered, absolutely moonstruck. No one has ever said that to you before, well, partially because you’re super single but you can’t help but let those words affect you tremendously. “Where do you want to go for our honey—“
“We’re not getting married.” You hiss at him like a snake.
Minho draws a cat-like grin on his lips, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Nuh uh too late. I’ll consider you as my own from now on, Mrs. Lee.”
You reply flatly. “You talk a lot for a demon who treasures their beauty sleep. You’re not vampires and you don’t watch people in their sleep, do you ?” The only person Minho watches in their sleep is you, but he’s not saying that to your face. And that was one time, one-time.
Upon his silence, you raise a brow. “Wait, you do ?”
“Who I watch in their sleep is none of your business, Y/N.” He replies with flaming cheeks.
You giggle. “I knew it, you’re related to Edward Cullen.”
“No, not that bitch Edward !” Minho makes a disgusted face but can’t contain his laughter for long. God, what are you doing to him ?
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seven.
You wake up with a cold sensation wrapping around your feet. With body shivering slightly, you instinctively nuzzle your head into the nearest heat source, retreating your legs deeper into the fuzzy blanket. Groaning, you shake your head slightly to shake the weariness away. This is why you hate long flights with a passion because you’re never not gonna be jet lagged for the rest of your life.
“Why do you always wake up so fucking early ?” Your eyes shoot open at the hoarse voice only to find Minho squinting his eyes at you sleepily with his bedhead and wrinkled shirt. He looks so human right now you can care less about the fact that you’ve just spent an entire night on your parents’ favorite couch with a creature from Hell. Definitely boyfriend material.
“My feet get cold easily in the morning, and that wakes me up.” You pout and hold his torso closer. Minho tries his best not to flinch when your arm brushes over his as the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. And you’re glad that he doesn’t snore and isn’t a messy sleeper. Just sleeps like the death, which makes sense. Unlike your best friend, Seo Changbin who sleeps like a fucking starfish with his four limbs wide open. Give him a king sized bed and he can still manage to have his blanket on the floor by the time the sun rises.
Minho runs a hand through the messy bird nest on his head which takes the breath right out of your lungs because it looks like those too good to be true shampoo commercials with people who have shiny, luminous hair. But those models spend hours on a wooden stool for their stylists to make it look like they didn’t even try but they’re not even close to Minho’s league because he needs none of that in order to look attractive.
Finally, he sighs. “Go back to sleep then.” He pulls the blanket down slightly to cover your feet completely and hugs your waist closer so that your upper body won’t be bothered by the morning breeze. “I’ll make breakfast later, what do your folks usually prefer ?”
You look up at him in awe. No one has ever offered such a sweet thing to do when they come over to your house. Not even your relatives ‘cause they’re far too busy bombarding you and Chan with questions about your personal lives rather than helping your parents out with washing the dishes after a meal is done. Minho might look cold and all but it’s all really just the typical demon facade that he’s trying to maintain. He’s actually really caring and thoughtful, you’ve found more sense of morality whenever you look into his eyes deeply than when you look at other people.
“Lee Minho is making breakfast for my family ? What’s this ? Is World War III coming ? Is the world hanging on the verge of ending ?”
He shakes his head at you in disapproval. “I just wanted to do something nice in return to last night’s dinner. Your parents really didn’t have to go all the way to the supermarket just because of me.” And he secretly enjoys seeing you munching happily on the food that he makes. How your cheeks are bunched up when you accidentally take too much of a bite, how your eyes light up in joy when you melt into the taste. He loves you for being you, for going all out without trying to act like a lady, eating quietly and shit.
You think for a bit. “They all have a big appetite, plus they’re not picky so anything will do. Just try to work with things in the fridge that you find promising ?”
“Oh okay.” Minho shrugs before leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep please, I beg. Jetlag is killing me, or else I’m gonna have to kiss you again and again until you get tired of me and doze off.”
With coral cheeks, you muster the calmest voice possible. “Is that a challenge ? Because if so, kiss me before I kick you off the couch.”  
He smirks at you. “If you’re willing to.” As he leans in closer, you can feel your confidence level decreasing dramatically, your heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill endless. You’re no longer brave enough to keep eye contact so your eyes are screwed shut at some point, waiting for his lips to collide with yours.
Suddenly his phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, making you two pull away in a hassle. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” Minho says sheepishly as he sits straight up and grabs his phone. The apologetic smile on his face drops when he sees the caller’s ID. He swipes right to answer, placing the cool device close to his ear. “Yeah, Hyunjin ?”
“Hyung, you’re going too far. Come back.”  
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eight.
It’s been a few weeks later, and your family can’t stop gushing over how lucky you are to find a boyfriend like Minho.
You start getting daily voice messages from your parents, asking if you’re taking good care of yourself, if Minho’s treating you well, if anything’s been hard lately. Oh boy you sure regret running away before because your parents keep checking up on you every two hours. If not for Minho, they would have made you move back to Australia for who knows how long.
With that being said, Minho is obligated to move in with you. But you’re not complaining at all because cuddling with him is naturally carved into you like second nature. Even Jisung and Changbin didn’t bother to question why you start to have two mugs by the sink, two pairs of slippers by the shoe rack and a foreign smell of cologne all over your couch. They’ve probably figured it out that you got yourself ‘a man’ since the night that you came back to the apartment in such a rush.
And from then, you wonder why you’ve never considered having a roommate before. There are always really shitty excuses inside your head like : what if your roommate has some kind of questionable habits, what if they’re secretly a part of some mafia organization ? But really, it’s because he’s Lee Minho, because you’re too utterly soft for him. Nonetheless, you did learn a few things from spending more time with him rather than locking yourself up with work.
The feeling of having someone waiting for you to come home is beyond heartwarming. And you’ve also learnt to use your time and effort on someone else rather than just yourself. It actually feels really nice because his presence brings more than just a sense of comfort and happiness to you. There’s something about him that’s irreplaceable. As if he’s your soulmate, that one person who adores you to the moon and back, who’s willing to bring out the best in you and deal with you when you’re at your lowest.
But the whole concept of soulmate is still debatable because life isn’t just peaches and cream, it’s roses and thorns.
“Something’s bothering you, tell me.” You make the sharpest of a turn to the left to snap Minho back to reality. You don’t like when people keep ignoring your questions.
“Nothing’s bothering me.” He answers flatly. Obviously, he’s lying because he’s only spoken to you seven words maximum since you started the car. “Follow-the-GPS-to-reach-the-destination.” That’s it. No more. No less.
You scoff. “Something’s clearly bothering you. I don’t need your mind reading crap to know what you’re thinking.” You’re trying so hard not to take an argument out on him, especially when you’re driving to somewhere you don’t even know. But Minho’s not dumb, you bet he already had everything planned out on his mind. There’s a reason for everything, so you don’t have anything against driving in the middle of the night, just because he insisted you to.
He voices. “I’m thinking about surprising you.” And when you glance at him sideways, there are those specks of playfulness glistening in his midnight orbs again. But there’s also something else, and it’s unfathomable. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” He reassures you with a somewhat forced smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, carefully pulling over not to hit the tree by the road.
Minho jumps out of the vehicle first. “We’re here.” You roll your eyes at him playfully and follows not long after.
And the sight in front of your eyes leaves you speechless. Even in the eerie darkness, your eyes can still make out the vibrant display of multicolored flowers all over the green field. The sweet scent soon fills your nostrils, making your eyes go wide in awe. “Come on, over here.” Minho links his hand into yours and drags you along the dirt road, trying his best not to step on any flower. Once he stops, you realize that you’re in the middle of the field, surrounded by the most surreal things that you thought could only happen in fairy tales.
The sky represents a black curtain being draped over your entire universe, with milky swirls and glitter specks dancing elegantly in various patterns. It’s transcendental, you think. How the sight have all of your worries and concerns disintegrate into dust, how you’re here with him as time seems to stop when he looks at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. You’re hanging by this moment, waiting for him to say something. “Do you like it ?” He breathes out ever so softly.
You nod repeatedly. “I love it, thank you, thank you, thank you !” Mixed emotions burst inside your chest and you unconsciously fall into his embrace as if you were meant to be there all along. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting his more than familiar cologne hug you like a warm blanket.
Minho opens his mouth to say something but snaps it close later on. The bitterness inside is making him nauseous, burying every last bit of courage to the bottom pit of his stomach. He has so much, so much to tell you yet nothing comes out right.
He’s the first to pull away. “I’m glad that you like it, Y/N.” Take good care of yourself, okay ?
“Of course I like it, it’s everything !” You smile, not noticing how there are tears brimming in the corners of his eyes when it’s so dark outside.
Minho tries to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Close your eyes, the stars will grant a wish to whoever has enough sincerity and purity.” You’ll be fine without me, will you ?
“A wish ? I guess…” You close your eyes, tightening the grip on Minho’s hands, accidentally ignoring how his hands are getting colder, and colder by the second. “There, I made a wish !” Your eyes fly open as you giggle happily. “We should come here more often, don’t you think ? Promise me that we’ll be here every week.” You extend your pinky finger outwards.
Minho nods, intertwining his finger with yours. “I promise.” I’ll miss you.
As a silent tear rolls down on his cheek, his orbs flash a shade of crimson red.
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eight & ½.
Changbin cries out dramatically. “Y/N, a little help over here ? Hello ?” He’s struggling real hard to open the door while carrying the groceries all by himself.
You quickly snap out of it, running to help him with the whopping five paper bags in his arms. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone who looked familiar.”
He cranes his neck tiredly after stuffing the bags into the backseats of his Tesla. “Could be some guy who reached out to you before. You know how the industry works, if they want you, they gotta have you. So be careful, creepy people are literally everywhere.”
“Right..” You trail off and jump into his car, shutting the door close. Even when Changbin twists his key and drives away from the supermarket, you can’t help but turn your head constantly to see if there’s anyone. On the way out, you made eye contact with someone, who has an odd ray of red in their eyes. Normally, things like this would have crept you out but you found an unexpected sense of familiarity in those eyes. Perhaps you’ve met before ?
But why… red ?
“Hey Bin…” You start. “Do you believe in soulmates ?”
Changbin snickers. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ? Are you sick ?”
You wave your hand to brush the topic off. “You’re right, I stayed up until three last night, can really use a nap right now.” Maybe everything’s in your head after all.
But little did you know, from across the streets, the silhouette of a demon who once shared unforgettable memories with you is embedded onto the cold brick wall. Minho has his arms crossed in front of his chest, mind blank, eyes empty. He only dares to watch in silence as your friend drives you away, fighting back the voices inside his head that are yelling at him to just hug you, to see your smile, to hear your laughter.
Little did you know, he longs to be by your side again. Minho tried to force himself into hating you but he can’t. He can’t because you taught him how to love, because you mean far more than just the universe to him, because blaming hurts more than trying to forget you. But before things get out of hand, he managed to get a hold of himself and decided to cut ties with you for good.
This is for the better, he keeps telling himself.
People say that there’s no sorrow in the demons. Since joy and sorrow are like fire and ice, there’s no possibilities for them to exist in the same subject. Demons are believed to find joy in those who despise God’s commands, and rejoice over this kind of sinister power. Therefore, there’s no sorrow in the demons. Meaning, demons can never feel heartbroken because they simply don’t have one.
If so, then why can Minho hear something shattering into pieces inside his chest ? That’s because he’s experienced something other demons aren’t supposed to. He finally knows what it feels like to actually be ‘someone’ to someone, what it feels like to think of them all day and smile stupidly about it.
And that’s something other demons are fortunate enough to not get themselves into. Because they wouldn’t want to know how painful it is to not being able to be with their loved one. Demons attract other demons by their scents so if a demon fell in love with a mortal being, that one human will live in constant danger.
Not to mention, it’s going against God to fall in love with someone who’s so different, so out of reach. And Minho could never risk losing you to anything but he can risk it all to protect you.
“I just feel so fucking broken.”
“You’ll be fine.” Hyunjin gently places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
But it is love after all… what can he do ?
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stellar-imagines · 5 years
Text
SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝swap issues.❞
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[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki ]
「Bakugou and you were arguing when you’re both hit with a villain quirk that caused you to change bodies with one another. Unfortunately for you, or rather Bakugou, you’re about to get your period.」
BAKUGOU KATSUKI
An argument with Bakugou wasn't that rare. Given his temper and behavior, it was no surprise that you'd eventually get into a fight. He's pissed over something, no surprise there. You weren't sure what it was all about but seeing him all angry in the alleyway, hidden from everyone, made you wince. The loud explosion sounding off and his screams of anger. You were certain that you'd be deaf the moment you stepped into the room. This act was making him look like a bad guy and you were having none of it. As his girlfriend, you knew about him the best. He's misunderstood and actually has good intentions, it's just that he loses his temper a bit too fast.
Calming him down was like defusing a bomb. You cut off the wrong wire, then you're fucking screwed. It was just shortly after you both finished up a job. However, the two of you were in separate divisions and you had no clue to what triggered him. So you did your own research, asking a few people about what happened out there in the field. You didn't remember the full detail but hearing Midoriya's name was more than enough. The two were rivals with completely different personalities and to be honest, Bakugou always makes things a competition. The moment you approached him, he was already aware of your presence.
"Come on now, are you really that pissed?" you asked casually. Bakugou looked up, narrowing his eyes at you. He was still dressed in his hero costume, minus the gauntlets and neck brace. 
"Take a hint, dumbass. Do I look like I'm happy?" he voiced out his thoughts without thinking it through and that actually threw your off. You had expected him to click his tongue, tell you to find your own business like he normally does. You weren't sure how to respond to that.
"You're both on the same side! Instead of getting pissed over how he arrived at the scene, you should be glad that no one got hurt. What the press said about " you told him, watching as he dropped the towel and turned to glare at you.
"You don't fucking understand what it's like! Don't act like you know everything. You don't have to lie to me face about it to make me feel better." his voice was slightly raised and you could easily tell that he didn't like that you were taking this matter too lightly.
"I'm not acting like I know everything. I'm not lying to make you feel better either. I'm just telling you that—"
"Just fucking stop there, I don't want to hear you pitying me." Bakugou was pissed and it wasn't hard to tell. His voice grows louder and louder up to the point where he was going to explode. If you took the wrong step he will surely blow up. His hands were balled into tight fists, his quirk threatening to go off.
"When in the hell have I been pitying you!?"
"Shut up! Get off my back!" an explosion went off.
"You telling me to be quiet? Fine, I can't even deal with you right now." you huffed at him. It was really uncalled for. You try to help and he just blew up in your face. The two of you were oblivious to the shadow slowly approaching the two of you and kept on arguing. The silhouette was an unfamiliar one and you both noticed it when they spoke. 
"Two Pro Heroes, fighting in the middle of the day is quite amusing and that shows that you're both very careless and incompetent!" Neither of you were quick enough to avoid the blast that emitted from from the palm of the villain's hand. You were able to shield your eyes from the bright light. 
It felt odd. All you could say that it didn't hurt like you expected it too. Your muscles were tense the entire time and they relaxed when the light faded, your wrists felt heavy and your head hurt a bit. When the pain dissipated, you were in shock. In front of you was your body. You looked at your hands, which were Bakugou's and suddenly the weight on your wrists made a lot of sense. 
"What do you mean we fucking switched bodies!?" 
"Calm down, [First Name]-san—Kacchan!" Midoriya shrunk back in fear, clearly intimidated by the angry look on your face.
"Oi! Don't yell so loud, Katsuki!" you scolded your boyfriend.
"Calm down you two. Until you're both back in your own bodies, you have the day off." Aizawa who happened to be the one in charge of leading the attack came after hearing that you and Bakugou ran into the villain. Without any problem, the other heroes managed to capture the villain who was the reason behind the predicament you're in. 
As much as it annoyed the two of you, neither of you were going to be able to properly work like this. And maybe, a break was just what the two needed. The two of you needed a chance to rekindle your relationship after all. Bakugou was annoyed but he knew that yelling and complaining about it wouldn't do anything. He also didn't want to recreate the same atmosphere as the day before. It surprised you how civilised and calm your boyfriend was behaving. You both sat on the couch, the silence being your company.
"You're surprisingly calm despite being in a sucky situation." you spoke.
"Whining and complaining won't change a damn thing." he grumbled.
"I wished you realized that sooner instead of getting angry at me." you sighed out loud. It was like he was punched in the gut. It wasn't hard to tell that you were referring to what happened yesterday. You didn't want to appear petty but you just couldn't help it. His words hurt you and you were upset. You didn't want to cry over something so ridiculous. However, remembering the way he yelled at you made your heart hurt.
"Hey." he moved a bit closer to you. All that aside, hearing him talk to you in your voice just sounds so damn weird.
"I admit that I made a mistake. You don't need to start crying."
"I'm not crying or anything."
"Yeah right. Something's in your eye right?" he said. You found yourself smiling a bit as he mimicked the remark that you often used. Maybe it was because you felt happy that Bakugou actually tried to apologize. Sure he didn't state 'I'm sorry.' but it's close enough. You rubbed your eyes, relieved that you weren't tearing up.
"I know that this sucks right now but we're gonna get through this hell together." Bakugou said, leaning on you.
"Yeah, you're right. We're gonna get through it."
"That's the fucking spirit."
"Actually, there's one problem. It should be mine but now that you're well.....in my body, you're the one dealing with the problem." you rubbed the back of your neck. Bakugou rose an eyebrow, clearly not really worried like you were.
"What? Fucking perverts stalking your ass or something?"
"No.....it's nothing like that." you laughed nervously.
Bakugou had expected something really serious. Did you have some sort of injury that you had been hiding from him? A secret? Had you been circulating drugs illegally? No, you’re stupid but you’re not retarded. When he was dragged into the room and being handed a few things that looked like painkillers, heating pads and whatnot, all he could wander what the fuck are all these for. Now, he was standing in the store at the feminine hygiene aisle looking at ten different brands of sanitary pads.
"I wish I had a boyfriend like him!" Bakugou heard a girl gush. 
"He looks like he knows his shit and he’s handsome too." the other said before walking away from the aisle. It fed his ego since it was his body that the girls were checking out. You, who's in his body, was oblivious to the comments that girls were saying.
"So this one is a bit thick but overall soft and it gives you the feeling—"
"It looks the fucking same to me just buy whatever you fucking get!" Bakugou snapped, rolling his eyes.
"I guess the mood swings are in full swing." you said, trying to hold in your laughter. It was supposed to be an unintentional pun and when you realized it, you couldn't help but laugh. Bakugou let out a noise that was akin to annoyance, clearly unamused with your humour.
"All I want is the shit that can help with this pain! It feels like a persistent diarrhoea that I can't fucking get rid off!" Bakugou complained while you tossed in a few items into the basket before heading to the counter to checkout. After purchasing the items, you both headed back home. And the the entire time, Bakugou complained about the pain and the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. He lost all motivation to even move and decided that the couch was his new bed.
"How are you feeling now?" you asked.
"Like I've been hit by a bus, and kicked by a kangaroo. I just want to fucking sleep." Bakugou grumbled, hugging a pillow close to his stomach.
"You want some cuddles?"
"Are you kidding me? How are cuddles gonna make this feel better?" he questioned as he made space for you.
"Just trust me. I've done this with you so many times." A small laugh escaped your lips as you laid down with him, wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him closer.
"Fuck that actually feels so comfortable."
You smiled gently, letting your boyfriend cuddle you on the couch. The silence between you didn’t last long and much to your surprise, Bakugou broke it. He gazed up at you with a face devoid of emotion.
“I’m feeling horny.”
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Blame your period, now I’m the fucking mood. Do something about it.”
Total: 1662 words Published: 13.12.2019
Thank you for requesting! *。٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*。 It’s been a month since we last posted something and that’s because we’re really busy with studies uwu I have a test tomorrow that I have NOT studied for and honestly, I’m just really bad at studying :’) Anyways, we’re sorry to make you wait so long. So, uh, funny thing, I’m actually on my period right now. Any of you experiencing KILLER CRAMPS!?  Some of my friends are lucky enough to not have cramps. ― author Hibiki/Lou
Thank you for requesting! College is killing me and I just hope it finishes me off. Lou who has 3 assignments to do over the break has no time to be typing anything. We both have Christmas break but Lou has assignments while I have reports and analysis to do. So it’s not really a break. We hope you like it and we’re so sorry to make you wait, anon. ― author Natsuki
Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.
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greencrusader13 · 4 years
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All Were Innocent Once: Chapter 12 - The Job
This chapter is one in which Cirak’s...tendencies come a bit more out to play, and as such I tweaked the chapter a bit for my audience on FF.net compared to my audience on AO3, since the former has the fic at a rating of T while the other has an M rating. Please keep that in mind when clicking a link to follow. The chapter below is the T-version, so if you want the more risque version go to the story on AO3.
FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13118981/12/All-Were-Innocent-Once
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043032/chapters/66526336
Summary: having now been assisted by the bounty hunter Braden and his associate - a Mandalorian by the name of Dekon Arrun - Cirak listens to their proposition, one that might entail a payday unlike any he’s earned before.
“So let me get this straight,” Cirak said, watching the swirling ice cubes in his glass like racers around a track as he flicked his wrist. “You want our help tracking down an infamous criminal who - supposedly - has near unlimited resources, his own private army of paid mercenaries, and is known for being able to vanish without a trace the moment anyone shows up on his doorstep.” He leveled Braden with an inquisitive look as he downed the remainder of his alcohol. “Sounds easy enough. Why can’t you and the wonder-Mando do it?”
Cirak shot a glance towards the Mandalorian as he mentioned him, Braden’s answer fading into the background as he searched. He’d taken to a booth alone at the far side of the cantina, back turned to the ambience it so welcomingly provided. It felt like a small slice of Nar Shaddaa jam-packed into a desert hovel, unclean to the point of pungency and so loud he could barely hear either of his companions when they spoke, not that he paid them much attention anyways. Mere feet away from their table a green-skinned twi’lek woman made her way around center-stage as violet light illuminated her aggressively-sensuous movements. On occasion she’d shed another article of what little clothing she already wore, eliciting a whoop or holler from the patrons, Cirak himself included.
The dancer drew closer, and for the briefest of moments they locked eyes.  “You come here often?” she asked in Huttese, her voice barely audible over the din of the music.
“Not often enough,” he responded in kind. “Maybe I should start, if the desert really holds such beauty.” Cirak flashed a rakish smile and raised his glass to her.
She winked, and then returned to her dance.
Grinning, Cirak turned his gaze back to Dekon, who had now taken apart his blaster on the table, either oblivious or - worse - disinterested by the life around them. Stupid Mando doesn’t know how to have fun, Cirak thought, watching the dancer’s body move around the shimmering pole.
Taelros snapped his fingers in front of Cirak’s face, breaking him from the trance. “Kid, when you ask for clarification, don’t let your ears wander with your eyes. These gals aren’t anything you wouldn’t find anywhere else in the galaxy, and with the right job you could buy yourself a hundred dances. Now pay attention: there’s credits to be earned.”
“It’s alright Tael,” Braden said, raising a calming hand. “We’ve all been young before. Although-” he leveled a stern look at Cirak- “Bounty hunters who let themselves think with anything other than their heads tend to not last very long in the business. Keep that in mind.”
“Braden, you have no idea how often this kid thinks with just his blaster, if you follow my understanding. A few years back on Onderon-”
“Stars not this again.”
Taelros took a drink and waved Cirak off. “It’s a fun story, but we shouldn’t get sidetracked any longer. Not when there’s credits to be earned. To save Braden the time of recapping, in short, Cirak, too many hostiles for a two man job, too closely guarded for something requiring precision. And we have more resources than them, what with Meruna and Deim making up for what they lack in specialized roles. We’ll hit hard and hit fast before he can flee and vanish again.”
“Rell Syrn rarely ever sticks around for very long in one place for very long,” Braden continued, “He tends to avoid drawing attention to himself. Keeps away from personally conducting business on overly-populated planets like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa and sends agents whenever he can. Has a pleasure yacht that nobody ever boards and that he very rarely ever leaves, which he keeps floating around various moons around the galaxy for short spans of time. Never the same one twice. Has a hobby for trophy hunting large game, which is when we’re gonna hit him.” He reached into his pocket and produced a holomap, which he displayed on the table. “He’ll be heading to Cholganna next.”
Cirak leaned in closer, studying the forest planet. “So...what, he’s gonna hunt Nexu? Hardly a unique hobby.”
Braden shook his head. “Cholganna has an indigineous population that’s not yet achieved spaceflight. Separate tribes and whatnot. Hardly capable of resisting blasterfire or more advanced toys.” He pursed his lips, allowing his expression to tell the rest.
“Ah. So he’s scum.”
“Pretty much, but that’s not why we’re getting paid to take him down,” Taelros said. 
“Last week some corsairs under his employ struck an Imperial stealth cruiser. Usual raid and whatnot, except they found something on there that the Imps want back. Badly. Some sort of information they were carrying really wasn’t supposed to fall into anyone else’s hands. And he recognizes it too; supposedly he killed all the corsairs who were on the raid just to keep it from leaking out. They don’t want him alive. Dead only, six million credits.”
Cirak’s eyes bulged at the bounty value, and he gagged on his drink. He wiped the spillage from his lips with the back of his hand. “I’m kriffing sorry, how much?”
“Six million, kid. Split six ways is a million for each of us.” Taelros smirked. “Now aren’t you glad you’re listening to me and not oogling some dancer?”
“Don’t blame me for knowing how to spend a good time, unlike Mando-boy over there.” Cirak pointed back at the Mandalorian’s booth with his thumb.
Braden’s gaze drifted over to where Dekon sat. “You ever heard of the Great Hunt, Kiht?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“It started out as a Mandalorian tradition out on Dxun, but has since opened up to any interested bounty hunters in the galaxy. You’re given the hardest contracts, the most dangerous of the dangerous, and have to hunt them down. At the end a Grand Champion is determined the winner. Rumor has it that Mandalore is considering holding another one soon.” Braden pointed at Dekon, who was just finishing loading a blaster pistol. “That man right there is the next Grand Champion, I guarantee it.”
Cirak shrugged, grimacing. “He doesn’t seem like all that to me.”
“He has hunter’s instincts like nothing I’ve ever seen. Brains just as much as brawn. I’d bet credits on him to take down a rancor with just his fists if the wager came up.”
“Then why doesn’t he just do this himself?”
Braden took a drink. “Like I said, this job has accentuated circumstances.”
“You sure it isn’t a trap? This job I mean. If the Imps want this data so badly, and it’s this valuable, what’s stopping them from just offing us once it’s done?”
Taelros shrugged. “We can burn that bridge when we get to it. Meanwhile, if we get this done right, and if we don’t get double-crossed, we’ll have good friends in the Galactic Empire, plus some cash for spending.”
Cash for spending felt almost like an insulting understatement. During all his years since joining Taelros’ crew, he’d never been a part of a job that held such a vast reward. Most of their contractors were petty crime lords wanting a rival dealt with, or some local government putting a warrant out on someone too dangerous for their own people to handle. On a rare occasion they’d get a contract from a Hutt, but those situations were far and few between. Even then, most of their earnings just went right back to The Reaper’s Prophet for upkeep, or towards their own resupplying for future jobs. By the time things were said and done, he had little money of his own for spending. When he did…
Cirak nodded towards Taelros. “Was the contact at the spaceport, the one for Woth?”
“Yeah, he was, and I’ve forwarded your credits to your account. Already did the deductions for you this time. Go do your thing.”
“What’s this?” asked Braden.
“It’s nothing. Not worth-”
Before he could finish speaking, cheers erupted from across the cantina again. He looked up in time to see the dancer twirl one final time in a rush of silver and scarlet cloth. She bowed, and then strode confidently back behind a curtain on the stage’s end.
Cirak smirked. “I’ll be outside. As wonderful as the sights are in here, I think I might get too distracted when the next one hits the stage.”
“You do that kid,” Taelros said, rising to his feet simultaneously with Cirak. “Braden and I will finish loading up the ship, get her spaceworthy by tomorrow. Might even try to pick up a few more bounties while we’re here.” He shoved a stern-yet-playful finger into Cirak’s chest. “Have your fun, but make sure you’re aboard before we take off. I don’t want a repeat of Chandrila.”
“For the record Tael, you’re the one who took off without checking if I was on board.” Cirak yelled back as he turned, waving a playful farewell as he moved across the cantina. “And it was worth it! You wouldn’t have wanted that noise on the ship!” From the corner of his eye he saw the Mando turn towards the noise, his unseen eyes watching Cirak from beneath the helmet. He could only imagine the glare the armored mercenary was shooting at him. Cirak felt his own mood sour at the sight, even amid the music and lights. He pressed on.
Once outside, Cirak stopped and looked around. Mos Ila had grown quieter as dusk approached. Earlier the streets had been filled with an eclectic mix of all the strange species the galaxy had to offer, bartering and browsing and aimlessly wandering about. Most had returned to their homes; only a small collection of three Jawas remained visible on the block, poking away at some dysfunctional droid they would later take and scrap for parts; it sat there lethargically, seemingly oblivious to its inevitable fate. 
Off in the distance a binary sunset colored the sky in hues of orange and violet. It had a sort of contemplative calm to it. Such natural beauty was uncommon on typical adventures, and for a moment it took Cirak by surprise. He could only stare in silence, watching enraptured as they inched closer to the horizon line. Something stirred in his chest, a longing he hadn’t felt for several years
Cirak shook his head and returned to his task, removing his personal holopad from his pack and logging onto the holonet. The banner at the top of the familiar website read “Coruscant Horizons Mutual: Your #1 provider for all your banking needs” in thick black lettering, the skyline of the planet clear in the background. A mixed family stood in the foreground, the human mother holding up her daughter while a Mirialan father stood beside them with his hand on his wife’s shoulder. Typical image crap, meant to deceive the average person into unearned trust, true of any bank. In reality any banker would set fire to that little family if it meant turning more of a profit. He may be the one killing people for money, but at least he was honest about it.
Sure enough, just as Taelros had said, the earnings from their most recent hunt had been transferred into his account, all eight thousand credits-worth. At least a thousand of that would go to armor maintenance, and another thousand for his blaster pack refills. He frowned, staring at his current balance of fourteen thousand credits, soon to be even less. The swoop bike he’d seen on the holonet had been twelve thousand. If he withheld his normal plans he could afford it, barely. The thought egged him on, the bike’s roar calling him like a siren’s song. 
He blocked it out with a sigh, and continued on with his usual routine. It would have to be some other time. Cirak tapped the link that read “transfer” and selected the alternate account with the new funds.
“Are you sure you would like to transfer four thousand credits to the account “Tyar’s Savings” Mr. Kiht?”
Cirak tapped “confirm” and leaned back. He wasn’t even sure if Jedi were allowed banking accounts, or if their life of monasticism prevented them from having any personal belongings. They already lead such a restricted life, one that Cirak himself couldn’t imagine living. Perhaps they’d brainwashed him into all of their tenets, maybe he didn’t even remember his own brother, but either way the money would be there for him when he came of age.
He glanced back down at the screen. “Would you like to include a message for this transaction?”
Cirak tensed, then leaned back over his holopad. “Hey kid, hope Jedi training is going well-”
He immediately backspaced. The message sounded dumb, especially for having no contact for the past several years.
“Brother, I hope this message finds you wel-”
Backspace.
“Tyar, I’m sorry I haven’t reached o-”
Backspace.
“Take this kriffing money.”
Backspace.
Cirak sighed, refreshed the page, and then declined to send a message. If Tyar wanted to make contact another time it would be his decision, not Cirak’s. The best he could hope for was that the kid would seek him out when the time came, and that both would still be alive for that reunion.
While his holopad remained open, Cirak decided to check his mail. There was already a confirmation regarding his transfer, complete with a hackneyed thank you message from the bank, which he promptly checked for deletion. He scrolled down, deleting as he went. Most of the messages were junk anyways: advertisements for various weaponry he could find at suppliers around the galaxy, new starfighter models worth checking out, possible clients reaching out to him not realizing that he wasn’t the one who handled the new jobs, etc. One message caught Cirak’s eye, though, from a Zeltron man he’d spent time with on Manaan. The message was flirtatious in nature, requesting that Cirak look him up again if he should even be on that side of the planet again. As sweet as it was that this paramour had taken the time to look him up, Cirak only remembered parts of that night, even if those parts were good and involved drinks and dancing. He deleted that piece of mail too.
Tucking his holopad away, Cirak made his way back to the cantina. A new dancer - some human woman with blonde hair and tanned skin - had taken the stage while a fresh series of beats accentuated her steps. Tael and Braden were both gone, their seats taken by a pair of faces Cirak had seen earlier at the bar who now had their holopads out, burning credits that flickered onto the stage and floated down around the dancer as they were spent. Some thugs pushed each other in front of the bar, attracting the attention of a weequay bouncer, whose approach turned them docile once more and retreated back to their seats.
And still the Mandalorian sat in his corner booth with his back to the action, the contents of his own pack strewn out on the table.
Cirak took a seat across from him, waving down a waitress as he did. The Mandalorian didn’t even bother to look up from his assortment of junk, instead continuing to wipe at his rifle with unwavering devotion. There were at least five blaster rifle packs on the table, along with three hunting vibroblades, a thermal detonator, and various blaster parts.
“You know, in most cantinas you can get thrown out for this kind of weaponry being out in the open,” Cirak said. The Mandalorian said nothing in response, not even so much as an acknowledging grunt. “Come on, you can do maintenance when you’re on the ship. You’re missing out on the fun right now.”
The Mandalorian looked up for a moment, then turned his head back towards the dancer. “Not my idea of fun.”
“Of course it isn’t. You Mandos don’t have a concept of fun.”
“I’m focused on what’s ahead of me. The hunt. The fact that I’m focusing on that instead of skirt-chasing is what’s going to keep me around much longer than you.” He slammed a pack into his rifle and then set it on the table.
Cirak rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Doesn’t matter how much focus you have when things can go kriffing sideways on any given job. Might as well enjoy life while you’re living it, or else when will you?”
The Mandalorian shook his head. “Mir’osik. Short-sighted.”
“I don’t speak Mando’a, so don’t bother.”
“That you don’t speak it is the point.”
“Look,” Cirak said, leaning over the table, “I’m not any happier about working with you on this than you are, but it looks like we’re going to be stuck together for awhile, so can you cool it before I feel like putting a blaster bolt through your skull? After this job’s done we can go our separate ways, forget the other exists, and maybe, if we’re lucky, we can wind up shooting at each other on some later job when we’re on opposite sides. Okay?”
The crimson helmet twitched, and Cirak could feel the heat of the Mandalorian’s glare from underneath it. “Let’s not forget that you insulted me first when you insulted my people,” his voice crackled.
“And your people massacred mine generations ago.”
“You see history only through the lens supplied by the Republic and the remnants of your species. That you are descended from people who survived mine should fill you with pride. It speaks that you have a survivor’s soul.”
Cirak opened his mouth to speak, but found himself without words. While he found the words themselves insensitive, there was resembling complete sincerity in Dekon’s words. Without the genocidal context, it bordered on being a compliment, however harsh the tone might’ve been.
He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t want to spend my evening arguing with a warmonger. I-”
Sounds of conflict drew his attention away from his soon-to-be associate and towards the bar. The previous dancer - now clad in a more modest lounge robe - stood across from a group of three armored humans, her arms folded with a drink in hand. From the appearance of their scrappier designs and cavalcade of scars across their face, it was clear that these three were outlaws of some kind, or at least individuals as used to braving the dangers of the galaxy as Cirak was himself. Their leader wore a coy expression as he spoke to the dancer, though there was no amusement in her face, but rather one of annoyance-bordering-contempt. One partner kept a stern eye on the bouncer and a hand on his blaster, while the other seemed equally amused as the ringleader.
“I’ll be back,” Cirak said, rising.
Their words became clearer as Cirak approached. “For the last time that’s not the kind of work I do,” the dancer said, still speaking Huttese.
“Come on baby, just think of it like a different kind of pole, different kind of dance,” the man said, albeit in Basic. “Don’t be such a tease. I’ve been throwing credits at you all night. Isn’t that a good enough deed for some time with you?”
“I said no. I dance, that’s it, and I don’t spend time with people just because they think their credits mean something. Go away and let me enjoy my break in peace.”
He lunged for her wrist. “Aw you don’t have to-”
His sentence ended prematurely as the contents of the dancer’s drink found his face. “Don’t touch me!” she seethed, backing away.
The bouncer started forward, causing the one minion to start for his blaster. Cirak found his own first - his father’s holdout - unholstering it and shooting the thug’s right out of his hand. All eyes in the cantina turned towards him, the atmosphere now tense from the sound of blaster fire. Despite the blasting beats from the speakers around him, the cantina felt dead quiet.
Meanwhile the bouncer searched himself for a blaster wound with apparent wonder that he hadn’t just been shot.
“Now that I have your attention,” Cirak said, “I think you owe this lady an apology. She’s been working hard all night up on that stage, so when she says for you to leave her alone, you do what she says.” He leveled the blaster at the leader as he stepped between them and the dancer, lining the sights right up with the man’s eyes.
The leader looked to his crew, then back to Cirak with a cocked eyebrow. “Do you have any idea who it is you’re talking to? We’re the-”
“Yeah yeah, some idiots who’re feared around these parts. Take what you want, want what you take. Heard it before. Shot them too.”
“We have you three-to-one.”
Cirak glanced between the three men. “I like those odds,” he growled, “I’ll have you all dropped before your buddy there pulls out that other blaster from the back of his pants.”
The group’s leader scoffed and looked back at his men as though this were the most ludicrous thing they’d encountered together. They chuckled along with him and shrugged. Then, at once, they drew. 
It all happened in seconds. Cirak brought his blaster down hard on the leader’s nose, shattering it. The man crumpled with a pained grunt, dropping his own weapon in the process, and as he fell Cirak turned his attention to the pair behind him. They couldn’t react fast enough to their leader falling out of the way of their aim, and it took them a moment too long to readjust. Cirak’s first shot found the leftmost one right square in the forehead. He made no sound as he fell, dead instantaneously. 
Just as he was taking aim on the third the man another shot rang out, striking the thug in the chest, the force of which sent him careening over the bar counter. Cirak turned. There, still in the booth, sat Dekon of Clan Arrun, still looking through the scope of his blaster rifle. Without a word or even a gesture he set the rifle back down on the table and began cleaning it once more.
The rush of gratitude faded quickly, however, as Cirak turned his attention to the groaning man at his feet. Blood streaked down the thug’s nose and mouth as he looked up with hatred and fear in his eyes. “My men! You shot my men!”
“Career hazard. They should’ve known better.”
“You kriffing alien!”
“You really should know better than to insult a man who’s got a blaster aimed at your brain,” Cirak said. He pulled out his holopad and opened it to the Bounty Hunters’ Guild database. “What’s your name there handsome?”
“I ain’t telling you nothing.”
Cirak pushed his blaster to the man’s forehead. “I can just shoot you now if you’d prefer.”
The man was silent for a few moments longer. “Antelv. Antelv Langot.”
He entered the name into the database and scanned Antelv’s face. Several long seconds passed as it searched for anyone in the trillions of the galactic population who may have angered someone enough to place a bounty on their head, and which planets they were known for frequenting. 
No results.
“Well Antelv, seems no one has any strong preference for whether or not you live or die in this unforgiving existence, so I’m gonna let the lady decide.” Cirak looked over to the dancer. “What do you say,” he asked in Huttese, “Lives, or dies?”
“I’m sorry,” Antelv croaked, sending bloody spittle across the cantina floor. “I’m sorry!”
The dancer gave a cursory glance over the pathetic man bleeding in front of her, then nodded to Cirak. “Let him live with the humiliation you’ve shown him.”
Cirak shrugged. “Well, her decision’s final.” Just as a weary smile crept onto Antelv’s face, Cirak brought his blaster down once more on his skull, knocking him out cold. His unconscious form sprawled out onto the floor, and around them people began turning their heads away from the scene. Music took their focus once more, and life returned to the cantina. The bouncer approached, threw Antelv over his shoulder, and then vanished outside.
The dancer took a seat at the bar, draping one of her green lekku over her shoulder. “Thanks for the help,” she said, “Not often we see patrons here who are brave and handsome.”
“Not a problem.” Cirak twirled his blaster, holstering it. “Ordinarily I’d ask if I could take the seat next to you, but given the circumstances…” He glanced down to the bloody puddle by his feet.
“His problem was thinking that credits could control me,” she said, “I dance because it’s fun and I choose who I spend time with because I want to, not because I’m paid.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides he was quite rude, and you’re quite cute. So by all means, take a seat.”
Cirak smirked, taking the stool next to her while looking her over. “Seems he spilled your drink. How about I buy you a new one? The name’s Cirak, Cirak Kiht, and I’d love to get your name too.”
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bakatenshii · 4 years
Text
All Might x Sara
I wanted to get this out for your birthday, but then I got distracted, so I wanted to get it out for his birthday, bUt then I didn’t finish ahksjklje I’m sorry it’s so late aaaah, but here it is!! For @saratour my love, my All Might fucker, happy late birthday, and happy late birthday to your husband too!
P.S. this is truly the softest you’ll get out of me. 
Toshi’s not got a hero complex, despite being branded the Hallmark of Heroes since fuck knows when—
probably since he first donned that ridiculously cartoonish hero costume ripped straight out of a Marvel/DC comic.
He doesn’t even like going out in Big Might form, ‘it’s embarrassing’, ‘too flashy’, or whatever
Fans hoping to crash into All Might doing normal things out and about may as well be playing Where’s Waldo, if Waldo’s not got his iconic distinct glasses or hat or stupid stripey top. (or Where’s Wally, for your weirdo Brits and fake Aussies)
So, essentially— impossible.
That’s how he gets around so easily and never get caught by paparazzi; head to the supermarket in SmallMight form, parading ‘round town without the fear or being recognized
Here: because I can’t manage to fit this in the hcs somehow naturally, the date is: June 8th
(and if you’re an All Might stan u should know, his birthday’s June 10th)
and Number 1 Hero All Might’s birthday may as well been a national holiday, honestly
There’s fucking posters plastered around town, All Might cosplayers, even All Might dildo lollipops, they really are milking this man dry of any possible profits
Anyways, cut scene to our protagonist today, Sara, who’s at the grocer’s looking for a cake to buy herself for her birthday
Only feeling half-sorry because— another friend’s just gotten engaged and here she is buying her own cake for her own birthday, pity party galore
Rude bitch sent her a wedding invite the day of her birthday even though she knew Sara was single. Even told her to bring a ‘Wedding Date’, it really do be your own ones
Will it be another cliché, you ask? Why yes, of course! 
Guess who Sara crashes into at the cake section, asking for the same cake she’d just chosen?
If you guessed All Might, you’re wrong! It’s— 
drumroll please...
Small Might! Hah, got you there El Oh El
Of course it’s our main man Toshi, in all his deflated glory, doing his daily shop at a market he doesn’t frequent on the other side of town.
Why the other side of town? Because I say so, otherwise the plot wouldn’t make sense okay, bear with it.
The baker’s just handing Sara the wrapped up lemon buttercream cake, and thank fuck she didn’t have it in her hands yet because when a familiar voice next to her asks:
“Have you got any of the lemon buttercream left?”
She just about gave herself whiplash and an unpayable debt to the chiropractor by the sheer force and velocity at which she whipped around to look at the man—
the myth, the legend—
All Might, except he’s.. small? Small Might, if you will, hence the nickname I’ve been using. 
(I think I’m so quirky and funny, everyone else say: Shut Up Angel!)
Obviously that was the last cake, because we love cliché tropes here in my crack-canons.
Sara? Starstruck.
Small Might? Disappointed, a lil. 
Moreso concerned about the speed at which the woman next to him was able to turn her neck, though.
Yes, yes, a lot of ‘All Might?’ with starry eyes, and shocked response of ‘y-you recognize me?’ and ‘of course I do, I’d be able to recognize that voice anywhere!’ blah blah cut scene timeskip to:
They’re at dinner, at her’s, because fuck a slow burn, she had been feeling brave because it’s her birthday and honestly what’s there to lose by asking Number 1 Hero All Might to accompany her for her birthday?
Crashing into him, meeting him in his form no one else knew, almost like a shared secret between them, it must’ve been destiny?
(It’s more so the author— namely, me— binding their fate together, so everyone say: Thank you Angel!)
By the grace of gods (again, see: me) Toshi agrees, makes a joke about how it’s his birthday soon too and he didn’t have anyone to spend it with either, so why not spend it together? swoon
It’s all a lil sad and ironic, big famous hero All Might not having anyone to celebrate his birthday with, despite everyone else celebrating it for him
It tugs at Sara’s heartstrings, it really does, so she makes them a wholesome feast, lights a candle for each of them on the cake, and have a giddy old time listening to his stories about his students
She doesn’t ask about his hero career, it’s too sensitive, too soon, and if the nervous tick in his hand gestures gives anything away, he’s a lil lot insecure about his weak frail form.
And he appreciates it, instead having a fucking blast going on and on about how worried he is about his overzealous students getting injured because they’re too busy trying to save the world, 
or whatever cat got caught on a treebranch, and whatnot.
This is all very soft and sweet, and I really am gooey writing this, but that’s just how both of them are, you know?
Sara, who’s painfully kind and sweet, sometimes a lil stubborn, and Toshi, who’s just honestly the most wholesome man on this planet,
How did you expect me to write anything stoopid & ridiculous for this couple, honestly?
So they have dinner together, do some grocery shopping together, he helps her move some furniture around (don’t ask why), she helps massage his sore aging muscles (PG folks, PG)
And bob’s your uncle, and to everyone’s relief they start dating.
They’re entire full grown adults, you know, so they’re in it for the long run. None of this petty arguments, stupid make-up and break-ups, just pure soft romance.
The Notebook would be impressed.
Nicholas Sparks is on a stretcher. 
(Did I mention they celebrated his birthday together two days after hers? 
And she bought him a stupid gift that both of them laughed for hours about that I won’t say because I haven’t come up with what it was? 
And that they shared a chocolate cake that she made that was even better than the lemon buttercream from the store— 
‘why did you go out and buy it when yours tastes so much better?’ , ‘because it was my birthday and I wanted to treat myself, okay’
Because yeah, they did that. It was so tooth-rottingly cute, I have a cavity and also I’m really bad at fluff so just *shoves* TAKE IT.)
And so, here they are, being the Hallmark of a happy couple, and we all gag at how fucking adorable they are while we sit in our sweat-stained joggers eating ramen with our 3 cats.
But wait! There’s more!
Guess who Sara shows up with, a year later, to her stupid friend’s wedding (who was knocked up! Hah!) looking positively glowing next to her date?
Symbol of Peace, former Number 1 Hero, All Might
or to her, lovingly, ‘Toshi’
Suck on that, nameless-friend from high school who’s getting married because she got knocked up and wanted to rub her happiness in lonely singles faces.
(Sorry that may or may not come from personal aggression, ignore that)
tags: @enjifuckersupreme , @mindninjax , @sanguinekeigo , @yukiimanic 
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vagrantblvrd · 5 years
Note
Ramwood?
The one where Geoff is an ~up and coming photojournalist or what have you.
Not exactly gung-ho so much as done with everyone’s shit and he’s not as careful about things as he should be, given the kind of place he lives? (Starts out in Liberty City and all the wrong kind of people to make enemies of.)
Somehow he runs into Burnie who is so goddamned amused by this asshole, right?
Smartass who doesn’t care whose toes he steps all over with his pieces  -and they’re all about the corruption and whatnot in the city and how it affects people there. Incredibly smart and also super goddamn stupid at the same time.
Has this reputation that has the news outlets and whatever else leery of hiring him on, so he’s freelance with a site/blog on the side that gains traction over time. Gets him this loyal following who trust him not to lie to them or obfuscate and such and gets by well enough for himself.
(Laments the fact no one will hire him on because what the hell? And Burnie laughing at him and telling him people in LC are afraid of someone like Geoff, honest men and all that in a city like that? Yeah, no.)
Knows he’s a hypocrite for being BFFs with Burnie and his people, but they’re the best of a bad lot or however you want to put it. The Roosters well-known for what they do, who they are and all that.
Burnie and his people keep an eye on Geoff who’s more interested in exposing the assholes who lie to the world about who they are – corrupt officials and businessmen and all that and has no reason to go after the Roosters, right? (Assholes, sure, but they’re upfront about it. And also this component to them that’s vaguely Robin Hood-ish in some ways. Sure as hell don’t try to bankrupt the little guy out of greed or petty vindictiveness and so on.)
Anyway, anyway, Geoff finally kicks over the wrong anthill and makes the wrong kind of enemy that has someone trying to kill him. Burnie and his people intervening and suggesting – gently – that Geoff maybe go elsewhere until things cool down in LC?
Mentions Los Santos that has Geoff laughing himself sick because it’s like Burnie wants him dead no matter what he says, but Burnie just rolls his eyes and arranges things to get Geoff the fuck out of his city.
He gives Geoff the name of one of his people out in Los Santos, this idiot of a kid who headed out there are few months before. Hacker/thief/pain in Burnie’s ass all the way from England.
Stupid as fuck and hey, maybe check in on him from time to time to make sure he hasn’t gotten himself killed?
And that’s how Geoff meets Gavin, right?
Gets the door slammed in his face when he goes to check on him the first time like he promised Burnie, at least until he tells Gavin Burnie sent him and then it’s.
Goddamn it’s annoying as hell.
Gavin being a little shit who eyes Geoff like he’s an idiot when he realizes who he is. Of course Burnie’s mentioned Geoff, who does he think dug up all the dirt the Roosters have on Geoff?? He just didn’t recognize him without that stupid mustache of his.
Also, the bruises and such don’t help. (Attempted murder will do that to you, though.)
Geoff’s got this shitty place to stay, and Gavin’s isn’t that much of a step up?
BUT.
Gavin’s got all this security Geoff’s place doesn’t and a better view and Gavin gives up on trying to get Geoff out of his place after a while. (Figures Burnie wouldn’t be best pleased if Geoff gets himself killed a week into his move to LS and this way he can send Burnie updates on Geoff with less work on his part.)
And then Geoff starts getting to know his new city, right?
Finds out all these interesting things that make it into his articles/blog posts and he’s smarter about it, but feathers still get ruffled.
And then!
Geoff’s been out of town digging up leads on a story hes working on and goes back to his own place for once and comes across some asshole who broke in while he was gone?
Geoff’s tired as hell and not in the mood to give any fucks and realizes the guy’s either there to rob him or kill him, because of course.
“Hey, quick question,” Geoff says, because someone trying to kill him isn’t a new experience by now, just.
Y’know.
Wow, okay.
Wow.
The guy with the gun stops talking in the middle of his little monologue or whatever he was doing (something, something, blah, blah blah?) and stares at Geoff.
At least, Geoff assumes the guy’s staring at him. (The mask makes it a bit hard to tell for sure.)
“What the hell is up with the mask?”
Dramatic bastard in a dumb jacket and fucking Halloween mask like the shop on Vespucci sells, you know?
Poor Ryan – because of course it’s Ryan – is just. Offended because one, does this asshole know who he is? And two, the mask is a Choice. (Unironic one at that.)Anyway.
Ryan’s not there to kill him so much as check on Geoff as a favor to Gavin?
Gavin had to run to Liberty City as a favor to Burnie and called in a favor of his own with Ryan.
All this backstory between the two of them since Gavin got to Los Santos Geoff never gets the full story about?
At most he gets snippets here and there, all, “Oh, yeah, someone hired him to kill me, and “Bastard shot me,” and “Jesus Christ, Gavin, would you give it a rest? I said I was sorry.”
Geoff is rightly Concerned about all of that and doesn’t know what happened or how much to tell Burnie because where would he even fucking start?
Also? It’s pretty clear whatever happened in the handful of months Gavin was in Los Santos before Geoff got to town that Gavin and Ryan are totes BFFs in the most alarming way?
Yelling about a fucking coin for whatever reason and Ryan threatening to murder Gavin over everything that would have any sane person running for their damned lives but Gavin is just :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD about it while Ryan is *SIGH*.
They’re confusing as hell, is the thing.
Also, Ryan takes to hanging out at Gavin’s place all goddamned time too when he’s in the city.
Casually mentions this asshole or that one putting a price on Geoff’s head and maybe avoid dark alleys until Ryan can “take care of it” and so on?
Geoff being “Jesus Christ,” because never has he heard someone be so creepy/menacing in such an offhanded/nonchalant manner?
But true to Ryan’s word, whoever is trying to kill Geoff that week kind of…doesn’t? (Geoff doesn’t know how Ryan “takes care of it” and is smart enough not to ask.)
And after a few close calls – Ryan can’t be there all the time and shit gets past him no matter how good he is – he drags Geoff to a shooting range. Puts a gun in his hands, arms crossed and tells him to show him what he can do.
Because, look.
Geoff was in the military and while he’s got no love for guns these days there have been enough people after his head he should maybe rethink that?
Geoff just looks at Ryan like >:( and deliberately misses the target all “Oh, no,” woes is him guess he’s a lost cause and maybe they can get the fuck out of there?
But no.
No.
Burnie likes Geoff for some godforsaken reason. Gavin likes him.
Ryan…tolerates him.
The last thing he wants is for Geoff to get his dumb idiot self killed because he’s stubborn as hell.
So.
They stay at the range for hours until Geoff gets tired of it and actually bothers to aim? And okay, yeah. Not a marksman like Gavin or anything – and Geoff would like to be surprised about that bit of information, but he’s not, really, given some of the stuff Gavin and Ryan have let slip in passing – but he’s not the worst shot Ryan’s seen.
Still.
“Target practice,” Ryan says, and it sounds like a threat, which of course it does because Ryan and they end up with these regular ~dates at the shooting range until Ryan’s satisfied he won’t shoot himself in the foot or something.
And then!
Gavin drags him down to this community gym – rundown neighborhood and awful color choices for the décor when they get inside? Who the fuck puts orange and purple together anyway?
But, okay, but.
Geoff is fascinated at how awkward Gavin is once they get there? This little asshole dragging Geoff out of bed as ass o’clock in the morning and not taking ‘no’ for an answer and surprisingly strong grip.
In all the time Geoff’s known him Gavin’s been fairly confident as a whole, you know? Total asshole but one who knows his shit and everything, but the moment they get inside the gym and this guy comes over to greet them, he gets flustered.
And, oh, does Geoff ever take notice of that, like he takes notice of the way the guy’s face lit up when he spotted Gavin. (INTERESTING.)
Geoff watches the two of them fail-flirt for a while until some asshole comes into the gym and yelling about something? Sounds annoyed as hell and super assholish?
Geoff’s expecting it to be trouble – an annoyed client or customer or whatever. Expects this Jeremy kid to have to soothe some douchebag’s ego or boot him out of the gym for being a douchebag, but no.
Because Jeremy and Gavin seem super delighted at this asshole who walks over, some kid with this scowl on his face ranting about something Geoff’s not really paying attention to and that’s how Geoff meets Jeremy and Michael.
Finds out Gavin dragged him all the way down to the gym Jeremy owns/runs and Michael sometimes helps out with – lot of local kids go there to stay off the streets and fuck knows Jeremy’s an idiot who needs all the help he can get, right?
Anyway, anyway, Gavin dragged him down there to get the two of them to knock him around a bit on the mats. (Oh, sure. It’s supposed to be for self-defense or whatever bullshit they tell him? But really, it’s Gavin being passive-aggressive about Geoff drinking his good coffee or spilling his loose tea the other day or something. Definitely not the asshole being worried about him and trying to keep him safe or anything, God no.)
Whatever it’s almost worst the bruises and sore muscles to watch Gavin and Jeremy completely fail to notice they’re super into one another. (OR that Michael’s waiting for the two of them to get their shit together because it’s pretty clear they’re also into him, and he’s stupid enough to like them back and Jesus Christ, Geoff, you have no fucking idea okay. NONE.)
And like.
Geoff being introduced to all these assholes and their asshole friends and realizing he’s got more contacts/friends in Los Santos on the wrong side of the law than ever before and Burnie laughing at him when he tells him so during one of their phone calls, because fuck Geoff’s life.
(Not like it matters in a city like Los Santos anyway, but. Still reason for some level of concern. Or something. Whatever.)
The thing where someone really wants Geoff dead and there are Dramatic life and death moments in which he gets a little shot/stabbed and so does Ryan.
They have That Moment where they’re looking one another in the eye and are like, fuck because they have FEELINGS for one another and also have been dating for some time down without realizing it?
And then Gavin and the others have to rescue them – which, talk about embarrassing – and also :O because those little shits had a fucking betting pool on how long it would take Geoff and Ryan to realize they’re an old married couple at this point.
(Michael being ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  about it when Geoff and Ryan give him these LOOKS because talk about pots and kettles, assholes, but hey. Not his fault he had the bad luck to fall in love with a pair of oblivious assholes, and also do they want in on that betting pool or not?)
Whatever, Geoff’s life sucks anyway.
He’s still out there writing his news stories exposing assholes who deserve it because of course he is, but he’s got standing ~dates with the fucking Vagabond at the shooting range several times a week on top of that.
(And if they stop off for dinner or a movie on the way or head out to Del Perro Pier or somewhere else other nights, that’s no one’s business but their own, and also shut up about it.)
Gavin drags him to Jeremy’s gym where he gets beat up o the regular by those assholes – sometimes they bring in some of Jeremy and Michael’s kids who are the real hard-hitters down there and Jesus, his fucking shins.
Somewhere along the line Jack gets sent to Los Santos – Burnie’s concerned about Geoff, he really is, what with all these assholes bullying him around - and also, maybe, some Rooster-related business going on out there he wants someone capable to run.
And then Lindsay and Trevor and all the others and Geoff gives up pretending his life is in any way normal, especially when he gets his own place after a while.
His lease on his old place ran out and he can’t stay in Gavin’s spare room forever, you know?
He is a little surprised when he realizes Ryan moved in to his new place at some point, though.
Like.
“Hey, quick question,” Geoff says, because he’s actually okay with the fact he’s totally lost control of his life since coming to Los Santos. “When did that happen?”
(Okay, so that happened before all that, but let him have this, okay? Please.)
Ryan rolls his eyes because Geoff’s kind of dumb, and then smooches? Because really, Geoff.
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hqolympia · 4 years
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chicago’s very own 𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄 has been spotted on madison avenue driving a chevrolet corvette z06 , welcome ! your resemblance to 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒏 is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒅 birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 , but being 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒆 might help you . i think being a 𝒈𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊 explains that .  3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 ,  𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 . 
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hi ,  peachy !  my  name’s  char  &  that  smile  of  yours  is  making  my  heart  melt !  🥺 allow  me  to  introduce  u  to  my  fren  over  here !
full name :  olympia  giselle  hargrove
nickname :  oly ,  pia  (tho, the latter one is reserved for her grandmother)
date of birth :  may  22nd , 1997  (23) 
birth place :  chicago , il
sexual orientation : pansexual
occupation :  competitive diver
labels :  the  crimson  /  the  icarian
𝐢.  𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
one :  picture a little girl with bright blue eyes, pigtails bouncing with every step she takes as a grin makes its way upon her face . she seems happy ---- and in the moment she truly is, despite the fact that the people she needs the most, her parents, are a few thousand miles away and aren’t here to see olympia say her first words or take her first step. she is too young to understand --- honestly, too young to even think about the reasons why they left her.
two :  she is a little bit older now, a full-on eleven years old --- taller, thinner and, most importantly, rowdier. she has quite a few friends, although they all seem to be having picnics with their barbie dolls and sleepovers dedicated to watching princess movies whereas olympia wants to run around and jump all over the place. the girls just don’t seem to match her energy, the boys aren’t exactly welcoming towards her, having this stupid, “ew, but you’re a girl!” mindset. she just wants to find something for herself, something that will keep her interested for longer than three hours ---- that something turned out to be diving.
three :  it’s a few years later, and now she’s standing at the 10m platform. it’s her last dive, and she needs to get it exactly right to win the gold medal. olympia would honestly be lying if she said her legs weren’t shaking because of how nervous she was --- but there’s a camera right in front of her face, therefore she has to keep it together. she turns around, takes one last breath, and then she’s up in the air. fifteen seconds later she’s fully submerged into water ----- and fifteen minutes later she has tears coming out of her eyes. she did it. she’s the world champion now.
four : it’s exactly a year later, and a lot has changed. olympia finds herself in the sunny city of rio de janeiro where she’s come to compete in her first olympic games --- which is exactly what she’s always been meant to do, judging by the name her parents gave her. except this time she’s nervous for an entirely different reason --- she’s now a successful athlete, this season’s leader and the one to watch out for. she’s the reigning world champion, for god’s sake, so she has to prove every single person out there she didn’t win on an accident. a lot of things seem to be going wrong; from oly flubbing her first dive to her coach coming up to her before her final one to say that her parents have showed up at the arena. eventually she finds herself in the same exact position as she did back in Russia ---- her palms are sweating, her legs are shaking, but there’s no turning back. the only way is down, so she has to dive one way or another. a jump, two somersaults, a twist ----- she’s back in the pool, and as she immediately drowns in the roar coming from the audience, tears start coming out of her eyes. she did it again. she’s lived up to her name.
five :  ever since she got back home, her life has completely changed. interview after interview, a campaign after a photoshoot, an event after the other ---- all of that mixed in with her training routine has it ups and downs. her schedule keeps her busy yet there’s something missing. she’s looking everywhere in the hopes of finding that missing piece, and at some point she feels like she’s found it in the face of a stranger who ends up in her bed that night. it brings her a sense of serenity, that lasts a few weeks ---- but olympia knows it’s all too good to be true, and it’s proven to be that way as she stumbles upon a certain page on a random night. it doesn’t seem real at first, but when she spots a tattoo on the girl’s ribcage, a realization hits her ---- she’s plastered all over porn sites, and that particular video featuring her has generated a few million views in a span of two months. she doesn’t remember the night at first due to her drunken state, but she recognizes her bedroom, particularly a personalized louis vuitton gym bag sitting in the corner. details like that help her piece the night together, and from that point on there’s nothing but fear of it all coming out and ruining her career.
𝐢𝐢.  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀
basically ! this intro is all over the place so here are some bullet points to get u up to speed !
oly was born in chicago but grew up and spent most of her time in toronto with her grandmother, since her parents were setting up their business overseas. they were coming by to visit her maybe once or twice a year, so she isn’t as close with them.
she is a competitive diver (a quite decorated one bc .... why wouldn’t she be 🥺🥺🥺)  representing canada bc of her upbringing despite the fact that she now lives in new york (she moved here in 2017, after the rio olympics)
astrology wise, she is a gemini sun cancer rising .... so sorry to all of u for this
her placements mean that she is quite creative, capricious and may appear manic sometimes --- but really she is just downright STUPID bc she is always trying to get her ass into trouble. like, you can’t even imagine how many times her coach had to drag her out of the mess she got herself into ... 
she is very much about having sympathy for others and helping them and whatnot, but unbeknownst to her, these tendencies can be explained by the “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” mindset. she has to keep her act straight, so getting onto someone’s bad side isn’t in the cards for her --- god knows what kind of shit she may end up in now that she’s a part of ... this world of glamour and fame, u kno?
olympia also really loves to talk, preach, argue --- just do whatever to be heard
in her free time (the time when she doesn’t feel like wreaking havoc tbh) she usually cooks deserts (vegan banana pudding? blackberry sorbet? key lime cheesecake? u want it, u got it!), reads books (painted veil by somerset is her ultimate FAV) and ... drives around town whilst listening to some cheesy music 🥺 
other than that her usual routine consists of training, clubbing and messing shit up due to the chaotic stupid personality !
𝐢𝐢𝐢.  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
i promise this intro won’t be that long ... after this ! 🤠🤠🤠these are just the few ideas i can get off the top of my head so ... there’s always room for brainstorming ! :-)
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐃 / close friends --- everybody needs some sort of a support system in their life, and oly is no exception to this rule. she’s never really had a big family, therefore she’s always surrounded herself with people in the hopes of filling the empty space in her heart. and honestly, if it wasn’t for these people, she would’ve quit diving right after winning the olympics, moved to the suburbs of toronto and just lived a quiet life --- but the pride for her friends just gives her enough motivation to move further and become better.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 / best friend --- we all have that someone who’s impossibly close to us; who we cannot imagine our lives without. the bond is so crucial to them both parties that it feels as if there’s never been a moment without each other. the general public and tabloids, though, feel as if there’s more going on and will not stop nagging them about the details.
𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 / friends drifted apart / exes --- as weird as it is, oly is very much a yolo person. in addition to that, she has a ton of love and devotion for every single person she’s ever had in her life no matter what happened between them or what caused them to drift apart. though, her ever-changing nature is known to drive people away which, tbh, happens to be a blessing and a curse -- it helps oly sort of “filter” through her circle of friends, but then again, if someone enters her life, they leave and undeniable impact on it. therefore, she misses whoever left her life more than they could ever imagine.
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 / rival (?) --- olympia isn’t perfect in any way, shape or form. she knows that, but most importantly, the public knows that and will not stop critiquing every little thing that she does. this person, though, is the exact opposite - the public LOVES them to the point where even olympia’s parents would probably say things like “ugh, i wish you could be more like that!”. this makes the relationship between the two quite ... strained. because as much as olympia may love them as a person, there’s always this lingering sense of jealousy that just enables her petty side.
𝐢𝐯. 𝐎𝐎𝐂
ok so ! if you’ve reached this part of my intro ... i cannot thank u enough bc this ?? this is long as HECK but i wanted to actually try and describe the kind of muse i envision in my head. i love u all a latte & if u feel like plotting w/ my dumb kid, leave a like on this post or feel free to mssg me on discord under futurenostalgias#1692 🤠sidenote tho: i’ll probably get to the mssgs in a few hours seeing as i have a few assignments to complete and i’m sorta braindead ... love u , cannot wait to write w/ u ! xoxo ur friendly neighborhood trash char  
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