#GOD. I cannot get over the color blend. it is just like. perfect. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

btssunnyboy · 4 years ago

Text

Unbelievable - Choi San

He was always rude to you, embarrassing you in front of everyone. So why is he mad that someone better made you an offer?

Warning - Profanity, mention of caffeine, San is mean as fuck, Yandere towards the end, He makes a threat.

Word Count - 3,362 idk if they will be a part 2!

BTS , NCT , ATEEZ — request open.

__________________________________________

Good god, your blood was boiling the moment you saw his door crack open. You could feel your fingernails digging into your palms as you tried to remain calm. The last thing you needed to do was lose your temper and give this man another opportunity to ridicule in front of your co-workers. But judging by that horrendous look on his face you already have a gut feeling that all taht hard work to keep your anger in check is going to fly right through the window. Taking the deepest breath you could take and plastering on that fake smile, you gladly greeted the man that makes your life a living hell.

“These numbers are definitely not to my liking and I refused to be the laughing stock at the board meeting tomorrow.” He huffed heavily as he practically threw the binder down onto your desk. The heavy plastic slamming against the steel desk with a loud thud that echoed through the big hallway. The wind from the fall making papers that previously occupied your desk go flying in every single direction. You could feel your anger bubble up in your chest at the mere disrespect that this man was giving you, and it was driving you insane.

“With all do respect sir, it’s already twelve thirty, and I highly doubt I’ll be able to go over all of these documents by seven thirty in the morning.” You resisted their urge to grit your teeth as you wanted to appear somehow considerate of his complications. Truth be told you didn’t want to do another all nighter when you barely pulled through from the other night. “Besides, I looked over the revenue and margin growths three times before I sent them to your office.”

He scoffed loudly as he licked one of his fingers and then continued to rummage through the papers that were bonded together. His long finger skimmed over the lines multiple times and he flipped each page within a minute. Those piercing eyes stayed locked in on every single number that crossed the page. “Ah, right here it states that we made a profit revenue of fifty million last year, but then it states that this year we’ve only grossed sixty five million. And that’s definitely less than the fifty percent revenue growth that we expected.”

“So, sixty five is not as bad as you’re making it out to be, besides multiple people double checked.” You spoke tiredly as you started packing up your briefcase. Different papers getting stacked together and even crumpled because of the rapid pace that you were going. No matter what happens tonight you were leaving before the clock strikes one in the morning. As you were packing up your eyes met his furious ones and it felt like your world was crumbling down. “Mr. Choi, I’m being honest, your accounting department checked all of these numbers multiple times and I looked over them as much as I could.”

“I know for a fact that we had a fifty percent increase in revenue, now look over these damn numbers again. Or you’ll be kissing this cushy office job goodbye in the morning.” He harshly slammed the binder closed and stalked over to his office door. The audacity of that stupid man, how dare he even threaten you with this job. But as much as you wanted to spit in his face and tell him to shove it you really needed this job, this really well paying job.

You poked your cheek with your tongue out of agitation and roughly grabbed your purse. The bottle of caffeine pills made a clicking sound as you unscrewed the cap within a second. Without a drink of water you downed the pill and grabbed the ugly binder. This was going to be a long night, and these numbers were not going to supposedly fix themselves.

Your fingers tapped the keys on the keyboard rapidly as you searched each collaboration revenue. All of these numbers were lining up, no matter what you searched. Out of the six collaborations Choi enterprise only grossed sixty five million, but for some reason he just won’t listen. All you wanted to do at this point was slump forward and go to sleep, but with that anger that Mr.Choi has you’re scared he might kill you in your sleep. But as the long hours went on and on, you could feel yourself slipping. Your eyelids felt like a ton, and your head was suddenly too heavy for your neck to hold. Before you knew you were out like a light.

—

You’d shoot the person who was jabbing their finger into side if you could. Their bony finger feeling a knife stabbing your rib cage with immense pressure. “Please wake up, y/n, if he notices you’re asleep, who knows what he’ll do!” The jabbing didn’t cease one bit, in fact they just jabbed even harder.

“Okay! I’m up!” You groggily scoffed as your vision was trying to focus on the object in front of you. The figure was simply a mush of different colors all moving in different directions. The harsh lights in the office are in no way making the situation any better. You could make out their hand moving from left to right to try and grab your attention. “Hongjoong?”

“What are you, blind? Of course it’s me, but please I’m begging you get up and go freshen up in the bathroom.” He sighed sadly as he helped your wobbly stance straighten up. His soft hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. The soft scent of his cologne filling your nose as you clung to him. “Do you still carry extra clothes in your car?”

“Thankfully yes, but what time is it?” You question as you rubbed your eyes, trying to make all the colors of the world blend back together to form one coherent thing. “Oh god, is it past seven thirty, oh shit! He’s gonna kill me!”

“Calm down, it's only six thirty, but he always gets here at seven. So please go wipe that old makeup off and I’ll get your other clothes.” Hongjoong smiled slightly at you before his eyes shifted towards the oh so famous brown binder. “Did that dick make you go over more numbers the whole night?”

“God yes and it was terrible, but I looked over all six collaborations and I kid you not it all equals sixty five.” You could hear a pin drop on the silence that coated the room. It was beginning to feel suffocating and you physically felt your chest growing heavy with dread. “There were only six right, because that’s all the forms I received.”

“Maybe i'm just thinking of something else, because maybe just maybe -“

“Stop wasting time! Is there more than six?” You panicked as you shoved him away and pulled the rolling chair back to your side. Before your fingers could even reach the keys, Hongjoong’s were there in a second. They tapped rapidly and skimmed through all your emails at a neck breaking pace. “Oh my god I never refreshed the email.”

“We don’t have time to sit here and panic, we have three pages of numbers to go through.” Hongjoong tried to make the situation less tense by offering a helping hand, but he knew that if these numbers weren’t corrected all hell would break loose. And no one wanted to see what Choi San was like when he more than ticked off. He’d probably be past the point of furious if ever saw these unfinished numbers.

—

San’s eyes were narrowed as he eyed the unfamiliar man at your desk. Where the hell were you? He didn’t pay a shit ton of money for you to be everywhere and not in that chair looking pretty. But at this moment he couldn’t control himself as the words flew from his mouth. “What the hell is this?”

That look, that gorgeous look of fear that made his blood rush and his heart pound. Was etched across the unknown man's face and he was basking in the glory of it. San cocked his eyebrow slightly as he leaned forwards on his palms. “Did I suddenly grow two heads or some shit, no? Then answer my question, what the hell is this.”

“I’m so sorry Mr.Choi, but I didn’t notice that there were seven collaborations. I only had six in my email. And Mr.Kim was only helping me scrunch the numbers.”

“You mean to tell me that these numbers aren’t finished! And this meeting is in less than an hour?” His demeanor was calm but the sheer venom in his voice was enough to bring you to your knees. He poked his cheek with his tongue and gave a mean smile in your direction. “I mean it, l/n you’re on thin ice. But if those numbers aren’t corrected then you’re fired.”

“Yes sir.” You gulped as you watched him take heavy steps towards his office. You were in deep shit now. San rubbed his chin as he tried to remain calm and not fire you on the spot. Out of all the times you could have missed up, you decided now was the perfect time. Messing up these numbers would make other investors think that this company cannot handle the responsibility of simply matching numbers. This mistake could completely tank the company and put everyone here out of a job.

Fifty five minutes have passed and investors from other companies are already showing up at the doors. And here he was sitting at the head of the table empty handed, and it was all your fault. It was your fault for not refreshing that damn email, for not paying closer attention to the numbers, for simply not giving it your all. And now it’s going to be your fault that the entire company crumbles and falls straight into the depths below.

“So San, when is this meeting going to officially begin?” Questioned one of the many associates as he leaned back against the velvet chair. A smile bright on his face as if he didn’t care to wait a moment or two for it to begin. But, on the other hand, the leader of the meeting was so furious he could start foaming at the mouth. Because guess what crucial piece of information still wasn’t on his desk.

“We will begin momentarily if my secretary would get her head out of her ass and bring them those god damn numbers.” San spoke with a soft smile on his face. The look he gave the men was a completely different tone from the words he just spoke. Those words help fury and degradation but his smile was so bright it could light up a room or cause someone’s heart to flutter out of their chest. But at this moment all of those men knew at this moment San was anything, but happy.

The sound of the doorknob being yanked on caught everyone’s attention. Their heads jolted towards the cause of the noise as they watched you fiddled with the dozens of papers in her hand. Your smile was uneasy as you tried to reorganize them on your way towards the head of the table. They watched your clammy hands shake with fear as San ripped the paper from your hands. Judging by the way you quickly held your pointed and middle finger they could only guess what happened.

“Why the hell are you still standing here? Do I need to draw you a picture and make it clear that you’re done here?” San scolded as he shoved you a bit and forced you to walk to the door. Fumbling over your own two feet and almost hitting the floor head on at one point. But he didn’t care, because all he wanted to do right now was get this meeting over with. With a final shove and a quick slam of the glass door, he swiftly turned back around to be met with very difficult to decipher expressions.

“Well now that all distractions are gone, let’s get down to business.”

—

Your face was flushed and you could feel your hands start to shake. From the mere interaction with the stupid CEO. The vivid picture of his icy eyes and cold stare were burned into your brain, as his words pounded in your skull without mercy. The man practically belittled you, in a room full of successful CEOs who now probably think you’re a joke.

“Hey, don't worry yourself sick. It was an honest mistake.” Hongjoong consoled you as he eyed your shaken form. The tearful eyes and the constant bouncing of your leg was a dead giveaway of the way you felt at this moment. And he wanted nothing more than to just say everything will be okay, that everything is going to be just fine. But he can’t, because who knows what the jerk will do you do considering your almost costed him a deal.

“Do you think he’ll fire me?” The question hung in the air with such heaviness that it was almost hard to breathe. The thought of losing this job was sending you into a whirlwind of erratic emotions. If this job is gone, there goes the ability to afford your car, hell there goes the ability to afford the damn apartment you’re living in at this moment. You’ll lose eveything, if you’re cut off.

“He better not, and trust me if he ever does, I would be more than happy to have you on my team.” A new man smiled brightly in your direction as he made his way over to your desk. He wasn’t an unfamiliar face around the office as he and Mr.Choi have done business deals of many kinds in the past. “It would truly be an honor to have someone like you working at Jeon Marketing.”

A small smile took over your face as you eyed the man in front of you. Mr.Jeon was an extremely well known CEO in this business, and he’s not too much older than Mr.Choi. You’re genuinely surprised these men are allies in this type of business, if anything you thought they’d be enemies. “Thank you for such kind words, but trust me your opinion on me may change soon.”

“Nonsense, I’ve seen the way you handle situations at this company, especially time crunched ones. I can tell just by looking at your face you stayed up hours just to make sure his numbers were perfect.” Mr Jeon stated as he leaned forward on the desk and clapped his hand together. “And truth be told I wouldn’t mind having such a beautiful face be the face of my company.”

His compliment left you stumped as you eyed his face. The tone he held was lighthearted because he knew this stressful situation needed a little laughter, but you knew from the look on his face he was being serious. About both of his statements. Before you could form a response, he long fingers were reaching into his jacket pocket. “I promise, if you ever need anything. I’m just a call away.”

“His top rival and best friend just offered you a sweet ass deal, are you gonna take it?”

You truly didn’t know the answer to that. I mean on one hand you have your secretary job here, and it pays well. The boss may be a pain in the ass, but it’s the only thing keeping you afloat. And you know that these two companies are neck and neck right now for the top spot, so it’s hard to decipher just how much he’s willing to pay you. But would there be any harm in simply asking the man?

“I’m not gonna lie and say it doesn’t intrigue me, but at the same time I don’t wanna leave you all alone.” You mumbled as you tapped away at the computer keys. Just trying to find any small amount of information about his company. But only mere surface information popped up in the search box. “Would it be a bad thing if I did leave?”

“Sometimes trying something new is good thing, but it really all depends on how you feel. And I have a friend that works there and she told me she makes over 250k a year.” Hongjoong shrugged his shoulders as he stood up to leave. His soft eyes giving a sense of comfort as he started to walk away. “I promise whatever option you pick, you’ll be fine.”

A heavy huff of air passed through your lips as you tried to think of the right answer. If he was right you’d make just a little bit more working for him and he genuinely seems like a nicer boss in general. So the real question is what’s keeping you tied to this job? The only perk about this job is working with Hongjoong and he’s the main reason why you’ve stuck around this long. The men from before were now exiting San’s offer with bright smiles on their faces, and you could only conclude that those numbers truly were the right ones. But just as your eyes leave their smiles you’re met with someone who has the complete opposite expression.

He briskly walked towards you and hastily cleared his throat. The stone cold expression he was supporting made a shiver go down your spine. Without a second thought he grabbed your hand and hauled you off in the direction of his office, with his nails piercing the skin of your wrist. Within a second he shoved you into his office and slammed the door behind him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His stern voice echoed in the office. Bouncing off the walls left and right and continuing to bounce inside your skull. The fingernails that were pressing into your skin felt like sharp needles protruding into you. You could have sworn you saw blood pass through his fingers. “Answer me!”

“I’m sorry! But I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” You panicked as you tried to yank your arm away from his hardened grasp. Those eyes of his start to terrify you the longer you stay in his touch. But he wasn’t letting you get away if anything the more you struggled against him the tighter his hold got.

“I saw that dumb fucker hand you his card, and for some unknown reason you took it. So what that’s it, you’re just gonna fucking leave after everything I’ve done for you?” He spat words at you left and right. Not bothering to back up any of his claims. He speaks as if he’s given you pure gold to walk but in reality all he’s given you is eggshells. You have to be careful around you, you’re never treated well, and he wants to sit up on his throne and act as if he’s treated you like royalty?

“If anything you’ve given me shit! You’re treating me like crap any chance you get, I made one mistake and your response to that is belittling me in front of other people!” You shouted back with just as much venom as he has done to you. With a final yank from your arm, you relaxed yourself from his grip. Tired of his antics you looked him dead in the eyes and spoke. “And so what if I take his offer, he’d be a better boss than you ever were!”

“I mean it, L/n, you take that deal and I’ll make your life a living hell.” He threatened as he got closer and closer. His minty breath fanned your face slightly as he harshly grabbed your chin. “Trust me, this is one bet you’ll regret taking if you leave.”

“I’ll take that damn bet any day.” You tried to push his chest back but he was stronger than you. What surprised you the most was the cackle-like laugh that passed through his lips. A wide smile taking over his face and that somehow made the situation more sinister.

“I warned you, Y/n.”

240 notes · View notes

lightsinthedistancee · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats!!! Angst 11 with Frankie? I can totally picture one of the boys asking him that and calling him out when he’s in denial of his feelings for f!reader

Thanks! Hope you enjoy!

“Is she really just a friend?” - Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x Reader

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Secrecy

Words: 1.6k

Excerpt: “You’re the one who always knows how to keep him up when he begins to spiral, begins to drink a little too much, begins to think of certain substances he’d once abused in order to forget.

“You’re the one who always knows what to say when he feels his exterior cracking, feels events of the past begin to seep through in anger, grief, or pure instability.

“In uncomplicated terms, perhaps you’re simply the only one who always seems to know him.”

Warnings: Very Mild Smut, Language

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.

Present

You’re simply staring.

Out the window of the living room, into unremarkable space. Onto the street where car after car passes by, each one seemingly blending into the last. Upon overcast skies that drain the colors outside of their saturation.

“You gonna say something or not?” says Frankie, breaking the silence. An air of hostility lies between the two of you. He sits on the couch, back hunched, forehead propped against his fist.

The main event of the past few hours lays heavy in the background, fogging both your minds—storm clouds that threaten to bring carnage upon everything.

It’d been a statement by Frankie in the company of the guys—just the mere beginnings of one, one with enough information behind it for you to intervene, to cut him off and shut it down before anything was heard.

The statement…it was one that would’ve told a lot. One that would’ve told of the many times Frankie’s hands had woven into your hair before his lips found yours, one that would’ve revealed numerous long nights together.

Not officially a secret, but never a relationship mentioned nor told.

“Why don’t you want to tell them? Why don’t you want to tell anyone?” His voice is profound in the quiet, loaded with hurt and confusion and a desperate need to know. “What’s the harm in it?”

And still without a single word, without a single glance towards him, you walk from the room.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Past

“F-Frankie….”

His name is a stutter from your lips as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, practically panting into his skin as his hips work against yours.

The wall you’re pressed up against painfully digs into your spine, yet the ache is an afterthought, buried in the shadow of the pure pleasure coursing through your veins.

The sounds of the guys in the kitchen below faintly travels through the floor. It makes a thrill as well as a menacing nervousness spike hot in your mind.

It was a simple weekend get-together among friends that had brought you here, you and Frankie being sent up the stairs of the house to get something, somehow ending up in this situation.

You groan at a particular movement, knotting your hands tighter into his locks, pulling hard enough to make him groan. He’s muttering filth in your ear, your legs gripping his waist tighter and tighter.

“Did you find it?” Benny’s voice echoes up the stairs all of a sudden, piercing the haze you and Frankie had been lost in together. Your mind is in an incoherent state, entirely forgetting what you’d been sent up here to find. “What’s taking so long?”

You stare at Frankie, whose eyes are wide open now, his movements frozen. The corners of your lips beg to turn upwards, and you nearly giggle at the absurdity of it all, and you slowly raise your index finger to your lips, signaling for him to stay quiet.

“Still looking!” you call out. “Should find it soon.”

An affirmative response sounds back, and despite everything going on, Frankie feels all his emotions diminishing to one thing, one sensation that sets every inch of him alight.

The feeling of you clenching around him, your index finger to your lips, a hint of a smirk on those beautiful lips of yours—the secrecy of it all…it’s exciting.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present

“Sweetheart….” His voice is a whisper as he approaches you from behind.

You’re in the kitchen now, hands shaking as you pour yourself a glass of water. Exhaustion is seemingly the main product of the tension that had hung between the two of you.

His hand rests gently on the side of your waist, the rest of his body refraining from even grazing yours. An acute worry runs through his head in circles. “I know you’re not leading me on with whatever this whole thing between us is—“

“I’m not,” you whisper, saying your first words in a while.

“—so talk to me. Why don’t you want to tell?”

The ever-pervasive question. Again.

You sigh, turning around to face him. Your hips gently settle on the edge of the counter, your eyes tiredly shutting. “I…I just…I really like you, Frankie.”

He raises an eyebrow, the confusion written across his face nearly comical. “I-I should hope so? I mean, you’re not really explaining anything, cariño.”

You laugh weakly, the sound pathetically dying out near the end, lacking the conviction to even resolutely finish. “What I mean is….” You draw in a deep breath, your eyes finally flicking to his. “…I don’t want what I have with you to fail, and I’m terrified of that happening, and…isn’t that only possible when something is officially real?”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Past

“C’mon, ‘Fish. Is she really just a friend?”

Frankie laughs, shaking his head in a perfect lie of denial. “You’re an idiot. Of course she’s just a friend.”

The small bar the four of them are in—him, Santi, Will, and Benny—possesses a unique calmness and comfort to it, a place they’d been going to for ages.

“Friends who fuck, then?” Santi continues his barrage of questions, the beginnings of an infuriating smirk on his face.

Friends who fuck really fucking well. “No,” Frankie insists, even as the other clumsily-formed thought sounds in his mind.

The other three guys practically shake their heads, returning to their previous conversation. The questioning is nearly a ritual at this point, said repeatedly, as if they’re determined to wrench what they want to be said out of him.

Frankie can vividly recall the things all of them had been saying over and over for months, in one way or another.

She knows you entirely too well.

What is it with the two of you?

You cannot possibly fucking tell me there is nothing going on.

And perhaps they’re right.

Frankie had risked his life with these guys, almost died with them, made last confessions and regrets in the near certain face of death. He’s inexorably bound to them till the day he dies. But despite that, when it comes to Frankie, even in competition with his closest friends, you always seem to be just one step ahead when it comes to knowing him.

You’re the one who always brings up the subject of leaving when places grow too crowded for his liking, striking a subtle discomfort across his face that no one else notices.

You’re the one who always knows how to keep him up when he begins to spiral, begins to drink a little too much, begins to think of certain substances he’d once abused in order to forget.

You’re the one who always knows what to say when he feels his exterior cracking, feels events of the past begin to seep through in anger, grief, or pure instability.

In uncomplicated terms, perhaps you’re simply the only one who always seems to know him.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Present

Your words shock him.

Isn’t that only possible when something is officially real?

He doesn’t know what you’ve been through to develop this level of paranoia, this level of reservation, but god, does he want to know. He wants you to let him in all the way, wants to be able to kiss you whenever he likes, wants to say three words that’ll officially cement things as serious.

But, even then…looming over all of that is a more menacing question that demands to be answered, one that makes him want to shrink into nothing.

“You don’t think this is real?” he whispers, his voice cracking at the implication—that what the two of you feel even in secrecy is not enough to make it so.

“What?” Your eyes snap up to his with the urgency of distress. “No, of course I think it’s real.” The statement is a near desperate exclamation as you watch him, looking for any sign that he believes you, that you haven’t destroyed even more of this with a single sentence.

His features relax, back to a quiet concern.

A long, drawn-out stretch of silence passes, filled with relief and more questions to be asked.

“Then why does telling make it more real?” he finally asks.

You falter, searching for an explanation beyond a simple feeling of fear. “I…I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe it’s just conceptual, maybe something I’ve just made up in my head and refused to go back on, but…but it just scares me, the thought of this being real and then failing. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but—“

“—I think it makes sense,” he interjects. More tentatively this time, he leans into you, wrapping his arms around your waist, rubbing soothing circles over the small of your back. “And why are you terrified this’ll fail? Do you think it will?”

“I…I don’t know,” you respond softly, brow crunched in apprehension. “Things just happen…I suppose.”

He hums in contemplation, fingers pulling your chin up to look at him. “Well, that’s not a very good reason,” he muses, a signature humor to him that you’re all too familiar with. When you laugh quietly, it’s a real laugh, one that delights his ears. “Things just don’t happen, too, y’know.”

You press your face into his shoulder, the slightest act of affection, an unsaid agreement. It feels different now that he’s in it with you, now that he knows and can challenge every absurd thought you’ve entertained.

“We can start just by telling the guys,” he proposes quietly. “If you want to…. It’s just them.”

His hand squeezes yours assuredly, a promise that everything is going to be fine. Your response is soft, a little hesitant-sounding at first, but ultimately decided. “Alright.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

A/N: I’ll admit I’m not super sure about this one since this is a little different from what I usually write but it was so much fun to write and such a fun challenge to create. And @hnt-escape, so I…umm….obviously changed the “Frankie in denial of feelings” part of the ask, so I hope you didn’t mind that?

Taglist: @dark-academics-and-florals @theultimateslashgirl @princessxkenobi @djjarins @jitterbugs927 @whovianayesha

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, let me know or do the form on my masterlist. If you’d like to be removed, don’t be afraid to ask!

100 Follower Celebration Masterlist

Thanks for reading!

#frankie morales x reader #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #francisco ‘catfish’ morales x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #ugh i really hope this was good #lightsinthedistancee’s 100 follow celebration

75 notes · View notes

oh-boy-me · 5 years ago

Text

Demon Outfits Discussed

The wait is over :) thank you for your patience and all the lovely comments on the casual discussion!!

I feel like it got longer this time, so I hope it’s all an enjoyable read! Also, I apologize for the ugly pictures--it was the easiest and fastest way to both have all the design in one image and also prevent it from stretching so far.

Like last time, please don’t take this too seriously; we love these boys and Justin doesn’t know them but has no grudges against them. We’re just harping on their fashion sense. Absolutely no hate is intended towards the boys or the design team!

Participants in the discussion were

Jo ( @jodaneko ), our art major with storyboarding/character design experience, who finds they have more in common with Satan each passing day.

Justin ( @justinlester0629 ), our fashion expert, who dressed up and filled a wine glass with water for the occasion.

Noodle (Me), our untrained eye who owns the Barbie as the Island Princess video game on three different platforms. It’s not even that good.

Featuring emergency guest star Megan ( @maggo77 ), my sister who is physically near me as we look at the backs of their designs for the first time.

Edit: Distracted by the pretty jacket, we made a mistake when putting in Levi’s silhouette rating. It’s the worst. 2/10, not 6.

Lucifer:

“Boy looks like he’s about to swing open the doors of an expensive mansion during a debutante party and give some SCATHING NEWS.” —Justin

“Short shoulder cape and a long split butt cape lol” —Jo

Jo has realized that based on both outfits, Lucifer doesn’t want people looking at his butt. Possible reasons are: he doesn’t have one, or Diavolo someone was getting distracted.

His shoes match his outfit. After last time that’s all I care about.

A triple popped color, and how many layers is the middle one? Is that a book? Dude has like 27 collars.

The forehead diamond is very important and it’s great that there are diamond buttons to match it. But uh. How about those red diamonds on his sleeves. They. They sure are there. (I actually like the red accents and that they match his gloves; I just can’t take the diamonds seriously.)

Lucifer 🤝 Some Horses Diamond on the Forehead

The peacock motif is HERE and we’re all living for it. HOWEVER, the feathers on the cape and coattails should have matched, OR there should have been more lime green because there’s so little of that color.

The pants have a pleat in the front, which Justin says means he responsibly irons his clothes, and Jo says only heightens the fact that under the capes this is a marching uniform.

Can he fly? Jo says these are baby wings that can’t support his weight, and his cape has a hole for the top pair but blocks the bottom pair? Can’t believe Lucifer handicapped himself for the sake of fashion.

The red makes it regal and the wide flowy design makes it imposing. Good job, Lucifer! I might actually be intimidated if I saw you.

Definitely the classiest outfit. You can tell they put care into it.

Mammon:

“BITCH MY BODY CANNOT TAKE THIS KIND OF SEXY, I THINK I AM OVERHEATING! NO MORE FURTHER COMMENTS, YOUR HONOR. HAUTE AND HOT.” —Justin

The whole thing does amazing with only three colors. We’ve noticed the trend of black and white + one color, but I mean hey. It’s working so far.

Damn those pants sit low. No wonder literally all of you wear belts.

The leather jacket? The studs and harness? Bless. Justin calls it “the perfect blend of stylish and ‘I’ll see you tonight *wink*’”.

Kind of don’t like how the belts connect to the pants, though. It looks better in the back.

“He found a really cool jacket, but it didn’t pair with anything so he just didn’t wear anything.” —Jo

Honestly though? We’ve all made fun of Mammon for having big hoe energy in his outfits, but like, he knew he had wings and planned his outfit to accommodate for that. He’s the only one who didn’t cut holes in his outfit. Maybe Mammon was the smallest hoe after all.

Also if there’s a motif it repeats elsewhere, like the studs and diamonds on his jacket and pants. Did he and Lucifer have a “tastefully putting diamonds on my outfit” battle? Because Mammon definitely won.

One of the charms broke off the belt loop and he never bothered to replace it, and honestly thank god there isn’t two of those anymore.

Torn between wishing the boots were tighter to match the rest of the outfit and saying “yoooo they’re open in the back!!!”

Ok so so far we’ve said generally only good things, but there is one major issue with the design: Its gravity. Everything points down, his tattoos, the diamonds, even his wings. The center of gravity in the image is his shoes. Bitch loved his shoes so much he made his whole outfit point to them.

Either way this was universally considered the best and I mourn Justin who doesn’t know how far Mammon’s standards are gonna fall from here.

Leviathan:

Diagonal zipper

“Levi what the fuck.” —Megan

He looks like an e-boy.

Honestly it looks like he borrowed something from Justin’s wardrobe for Pride but he didn’t know how to put it on.

APPARENTLY the biggest hoe. Abs that he shouldn’t have coming through a mesh t-shirt. I thought Mammon’s pants were low, but Levi’s whole-ass ass is out. Ok Levi, I see you.

The shirt pattern is good but he probably leaves it partially unzipped because it’d look really dumb fully closed.

Justin loves the funky pants pattern and Jo likes the pants but not with the outfit. It’s because the devs were too coward to give him a thick tail base so his pants had to fill that role by sharing the pattern.

The shoes are good, and not just because they incited Justin’s deep-set hatred for Christian Louboutin and his uncomfortable red-bottom shoes.

Justin is offended that he’s hiding his suspenders; either show them completely or not at all, no in between. Jo’s not fully convinced it isn’t just one suspender. What are his suspenders doing? What are they attached to? Are they holding anything up? Apparently not.

Jo pointed out that if you squint the belt on his waist looks like fangs and the orange dots on his sleeves looks like eyes so it’s like theres a snake head on his outfit. Cute!

The gloves are throwing us off though. Why is Levi of all other brothers need gloves? I bet he has sweaty hands.

Ok really, does his sweater unzip all the way into two pieces? Or does it hang by that tiny thread underneath the tail hole? There’s even a button, just in case.

Can’t believe this antler-sporting, suspender-wasting nerd went diagonal zipper on us because we beat him at a trivia game. Should have just zipped his hood.

Satan:

HONEY.

“I hate everything about this.” —Megan

First of all, he’s straight up wearing Lucifer’s casual shirt. Does it only button down the back? Can he take it off?

Then he spilled bleach on his pants. Like I get what they were going for but with the white on black that is literally just bleach stains.

Incredibly differing opinions on the belt. He got it in the cowboy department. Justin adores it. Jo despises it.

And are those… athletic slip ons?

And now the elephant in the room. The ribcage made of ribbons. The ribboncage. The idea is great! I love that they gave him a skeletal theme without throwing him into a Hot Topic.

But if you take the ribboncage and feather boa off he’s literally just wearing a dress shirt and some nice jeans. And that’s the problem with Satan’s demon form. Not that it looks goofy. It’s that they took risks but then hid all the risks behind business casual.

Also Megan said that the back of the ribbons look like a rock climbing harness. Someone (probably Justin) said the front reminds them of the underbelly of a green cockroach. Ew.

The feather boa would look better if it was over something you wouldn’t literally wear at the office. (And also didn’t look so much like worm on a string.)

“He is going to Dragcon 2020 and is definitely going to take a picture and ask to lip sync, but accidentally start beef with Acid Betty.” —Justin

On a good note, loving how the tail fades to highly radioactive green. Feels dangerous. Megan pointed out that it’s a pretty wimpy tail, though. Jo enjoys the self-conscious posture it expresses.

That’s basically the only good thing we have to say, though.

I just????

Merry Christmas.

Asmodeus:

The kanji on the picture is just saying that the coattail is the same on both sides.

Ok now with that out of the way, HONEY.

I’m sure he says that to others but I hope he says it to himself too when he looks in the mirror.

Starting with the good. The wings? Adorable. The heart-shaped hole to accommodate them? Adorable. One of the only good adjustments.

And I love that the tips of his horns look venomous, like a scorpion tail!

We love a good floral design and a good twin tailcoat.

But once again, the shirt just has too much going on. The flowers. The buttons. The brick-pattern stitching. The brooch. The long collar. The fact that if he closed the last button it’d end in a diamond covering his crotch. Sometimes less is more, Asmo.

That scorpion brooch is the best thing to ever grace my computer screen and it shouldn’t have to share the spotlight with the rest of his shirt. It should have wrapped around his arm and been paired with some more jewelry. Then he could have ditched those giant cuffs.

The bleeding heart tattoos are a really good idea! But they should have been angled better and not like someone else put them on at the roller rink. And maybe they shouldn’t have been outlined in pink. Those aren’t tattoos, those are gaping holes in his arm. Is he ok.

I’ve been avoiding the pants, but. The pants.

“Oh dear god. Oh no that’s… I thought you were a designer…” —Jo

One side is buckled the ENTIRE way down, and then the other side is COMPLETELY plain. It’s too extreme on both ends. It should have been only half a leg of buckles. Not whatever this is. I still don’t think he can bend that leg.

The shoes are ok but they COULD have been a stiletto so.

Jo is DONE with these demons’ inability to wear socks.

We expected better from you, Asmo. I hope you have to fasten all those buckles every morning as retribution.

Beelzebub:

He said “how many belts can I wear on one outfit.”

Justin said it’s like Barry B. Benson and Post Malone had a beautiful baby boy, and Obey Me! is cancelled for creating a sequence of events that could lead to me hearing that with my own two ears.

The jacket? Stunning. “It’s steampunk mixed with Jack Sparrow, mixed with Billie Joe Armstrong,” says Justin. It’s got puffy sleeves! And there’s objectively too much going on with the jacket, but since it’s a leather jacket I can forgive it. Justin and Jo can’t.

I’m not sure why they keep giving him weird jacket collars but I prefer belt number 9 to fur.

“Why is it bucked in the back? Couldn’t it have just been a jacket?” —Megan

Good that the black tank isn’t only black, but he has so little color on his outfit that it would have been nice for it and the matching pattern on his boots to have been a color besides gray.

I don’t mind the belts down the leg because they’re not too in your face. Jo wants the white belt to be thinner. Justin wants him to just pick one and go with it.

Poor Beel, he can’t do his lil thigh pat pose without his right hand being assaulted by studs and that bear trap-shaped buckle.

Justin feels like the cowboy boots are too wide up top and it’s probably because they’re FAKE cowboy boots. I don’t know why he didn’t just get cowboy boots instead of putting fake coverings over his dress shoes.

Can’t fault the twin belt, though. And the wing hole isn’t terrible.

Idk I guess. They knew what they wanted to do at least.

That seems to be the pattern with Beel: they know what they want to do, but something weird happens in the middle of it.

Belphegor:

“I don’t know which Teletubby let their son go through the it’s just a phase mom phase, but they should be ashamed.” —Justin

A toddler who just learned how to cut holes in paper got a hold of his hoodie.

Is it a hoodie? A jacket? A poncho? The cow print actually isn’t terrible. At least it had the decency to be unique in its spotting. And the actual presence of blue is very appreciated.

On the topic of colors, Jo is calling the devs out on their apparent fear of color. “Put the pink elsewhere, cowards,” they say.

We actually don’t hate the horseshoe, and using it for the belt buckles is actually really clever. Even if 75% of them are doing literally nothing. Feel like he didn’t need that many. Could do without the bottom one, maybe even bottom two.

There’s a teeeeny tiny cowbell on the back? Megan apparently finds that VERY important. Why do they go to such great lengths to remind us that Belphie’s a cow? Beel doesn’t rub his hands together 24/7. Mammon doesn’t even get bird wings.

Just like Satan spilled bleach, Belphie has tar pants.

It’s nice to see a change in pant style, but. Am I biased because I hate harem pants? Maybe. Are these harem pants too short on him? Yes. Maybe they were supposed to be parachute capris? But it just looks he outgrew them too fast and Lucifer won’t buy him new pants yet. At least they look comfy.

If he puts his keys in those pockets will his pants fall down? Probably. That’s a problem considering his are the only pants that look like they could hold any keys.

The shoes are fine. I can enjoy a high topped sneaker. …Is that a security tag? Did he steal his shoes. Belphie stole his shoes.

On the tiny tail hole, I appreciate that Belphie went for modesty. But I hope it’s impossible to wear these outfits outside of demon form because I don’t want him walking around with a tiny hole right above his ass.

Honestly he doesn’t even look like a demon? He just looks like… a cow.

There’s one more aspect of their demon forms that I didn’t feel comfortable forcing into a smaller space than it deserved: Silhouettes. Jo puts a lot of weight on silhouettes and their role in character design. Is it dynamic? Is it recognizable? Jo ranked them as such:

1. Lucifer: 9/10. Care and effort were put into this design and it shows. 2. Mammon: 7/10. Points deducted for most of it being form fitting but otherwise still manages to get a passing grade. 3 (tied). Beelzebub: 5/10. His wings have actual mass but his horns being mostly hidden by his head reduce his score. 3 (tied). Belphegor: 5/10. Evens out since his clothes aren’t as form fitting as the others but they also kind of turn him into a blob. 5. Asmodeus: 4/10, and only because he’s got multiple wings and that his tailcoat breaks up the bottom half. 6. Satan: 3/10, for the fact HIS BOA carries most of the work in altering his silhouette. 7. Leviathan: 2/10. The tail and horns prevent this from being a total flop.

Our (surprisingly unanimous!) ranking of their outfits (not counting Megan her opinions deviated) were:

Mammon

Lucifer

Leviathan

Belphegor

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

In conclusion, any M-rated fic that doesn’t have it take demon Satan 20 minutes to take off his shirt is too unrealistic.

593 notes · View notes

baobaojng · 5 years ago

Text

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - first

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - first, second, third, fourth, fifth

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - 1800’s jaehyun!au , arranged marriage! au , supernatural-ish?!au , victorian? i think? !au

themes: angst, fluff, (just some implied smut along the way, i’m far too soft)

reminders: i’m half lazy, so i might not be able to drown myself in as much 1800’s facts as i’m supposed to as a responsible author — SO, yes, this will purely rely on fiction

summary: in the present day you are confused; you do not know who you are and you find yourself on an impossible quest to find out— until you wake up in the 1800’s, engaged to a hauntingly beautiful and uptight man who tries to figure out why the girl he’s been betrothed to has drastically changed.

wordcount: 4,024

It has always been so difficult for you to express how disconnected you feel with your own life. Through months and months of therapy you’ve received, none of the diagnoses ever seemed to make perfect sense. Often times when you describe your hurdle, of seeming to be awakened one day into a stage of your life then continuing on as you do not recall anything of your childhood: how you grew up, the people you’ve met, and the tiniest details of your being, they have always tried to pin it down to some psychosis. You even took a few CT-scans to prove that there were no dysfunctional parts in your brain, and some suggested you had amnesia of some sort - but none of them could tell how it came about.

This mystery of a life you have been living has been going on for a year, and in each moment of confusion you never truly understood who you were and how you became this shell of a person. There was a never ending quest of you trying to find out why you felt so out of place.

“Out again?” You hear a voice come from the living room as you go down to pass through and get water from the kitchen.

Moon Taeil notices your attire: the mismatched shades of black thrown in together, but managing to look all the same. He is reading the morning paper as the television plays softly in the background, some tragic news report of a school shooting a few cities away. Background noise for the wicked, a tragedy for those affected. Although, you have to admit that the both of you have never really been so affected by life, or the loss of - sharing the same interest in morbidity and death as if it were a select personality that blended the two of you well.

You see, Moon Taeil was the closest thing you had to family. If you could understand the idea of what ‘family’ was, then it would be him. It seemed that the earliest memory you ever had was in this house you lived in with him, seeing the canvas hung up in the living room - velvet colors hugging the surface, a sad landscape portrayed. When you woke up on the wooden floorboards that afternoon, you had no recollection of anything there. All you knew was that it was warm, and Taeil was staring at you as if he understood what happened. Any first and logical instinct would be to immediately go into hysterics and freak out at the sight of a stranger, but when Taeil first offered a hand for you to get up it only seemed natural to accept his help.

Apparently, your parents both died in a fire years ago, and with nowhere to really go because your family history was close to nonexistent, you were directed to your only known aunt. This aunt was not of any real blood relation, in fact she was the only living close friend of your parents - and she had a son, and he was Taeil. His mother looked after the two of you for only a short while until she died of an illness of the heart, and Taeil was left in charge of you. Before you forgot everything, Taeil had mentioned that you were a practicing engineer that helped through a lot of the improvement of the business the family had, of course you lost some touch to the craft - but you could still easily pick up a thing or two. The family business they ran kept the two of you more than well off; and Taeil, from what you have seen, is really good at managing everything. It was never a hard time trying to get along with him, because it seemed that he did not mind how much you frequented out of the house. To be perfectly fair, it was his fault you were always out of the house anyway.

~ [flasbacks would follow this format]

“Who painted that?” You remember pointing at the painting of the landscape hung up on the living room, asking Taeil this moments after he had to explain to you who you were and who he was.

He was patient enough to nod his head at your question, but his eyes furrowed and his chin extended. “Yuno, an eighteenth century painter.” You hummed in response, still observing the painting hung up. “I’ve collected his works over the years, and he isn’t very popular but he has a very good repertoire.”

“It’s very captivating.”

“Yes, very much so.” You don’t notice, but Taeil could feel how fascinated you were.

A few days later he gave you an old leather bound book, the edges of the pages exposed were already browning.

“What is this for?” You wonder, and he smiles.

“You seemed to really love the painting in the living room, so I thought you might want to see this.” He offers, and you immediately proceed to open at the clasps of the book. You imagined text, or something poetic - but you did not expect to see different sketches and paintings drawn on the pages.

“Is this by...?” You are unsure if you would be able to say the name correctly, afraid of not doing it any justice.

“Yes. I know that there is only this original copy, but rumors say there are a few out there reproduced right after his death, although I wouldn’t know where those are exactly.”

You carefully skip through the pages, “what is this?” It seems, the concept of a book with art from that early on in time is foreign to you.

“In kinder words, it’s a sketchbook.” He shrugs, and you nod off the possibility of it being like that.

But you learn later on in time that you can barely call it a sketchbook, not when you’re absolutely enthralled with the thing. One day, bored out of your mind, you decide to go through the entire thing in one sitting. Something you’ve never done; somehow it has always emotionally exhausted you just looking at one or two pages, and you’d typically close it up and hide it away in the drawer of your bedside table.

Tonight was different as your body was washed through with a wave of nostalgia, and the only thing you could exhaust your emotion on was this damn book.

It was a collection of everything that did not feel real, portraits of people with no names, ponds and lakes with the lilies floating at the surface, and intimidating structures of rooms and buildings. You could and couldn’t understand this painter’s life all at the same time, with each touch of color and coal you felt yourself melt away. When you reached the end of the hundred or so pages, something had caught your eye - the ridged seams of the fiber were sticking out: the last page was ripped and only remnants of black stains were left on whatever else was connected to the book. The only thing you could feel was a surge of hurt, not knowing why you felt it and where it came from. But this missing page ignited some sense of determination to understand your purpose.

This was the beginning to a quest you were determined to finish.

“Yes, I’m going out again. I have to travel two cities over to go to this antique shop, I heard that they sell vintage items.” This was the third time you were going out this week, and it was a Wednesday. You cannot count the many many times you have gone to look for that page, and if you were being realistic about it and the page was meant to be lost - then you did not know how many times you have gone to look for an idea or a clue. Taeil’s collection of Yuno’s works proved to be limited; not answering any of the suspicions you had about the missing page. You did not know exactly what you were looking for, but you were looking for something.

“Be careful.” The only goodbye he bids, and then you’re off again.

Rain greets you the moment you step out of the house, but it is not heavy enough to soak you through the walk to the bus stop. The bus ride you took was rather quiet, only sharing the vehicle with around six other people who were silent as well. The drive would be two hours away, and you knew you would resort to falling asleep to skip the time.

You could not humor yourself with any game on your phone, nor did you enjoy the feeling that social media left you. You could not find it in yourself to listen to music either; always feeling a large disconnection with sound. Taeil once told you that you loved music: the symphonies of strings and the light touches on piano— apparently you were a wonderful dance partner in the ballroom. To which you simply smiled off; you couldn’t argue otherwise.

Sleep captures you, the moving of the vehicle is something you do not mind until you hear the bus dispatcher calling for your stop.

This city looked warm; all the buildings and houses had exposed brick walls, and the streets were lined with shops and orange toned lights. Although the ground was still damp from the light drizzle that was falling down from the sky and the gray clouds inhibited light from passing through, it did not seem sad in these streets. You would have very easily gotten lost, but the dimmest lit shop was the most distracting - and it was exactly the place you were looking for.

Everything about this place was much much larger than you anticipated; the way the place looked from the outside was very deceiving of it’s size. Little passage ways with walls of items and trinkets were countless, like a maze you were trying to skim past through. There were jars, and cans - silverware that was eaten away by the dust. Statues of gods, little porcelain men, and taxidermies of butterflies with little labels on the glass that encased the frame. You could feel the need to sneeze every few seconds each time you turned to face a new corner or direction.

Finding the art section already turned you into a mess; the piles and piles of old frames with mystery paintings were set up in many stacks. You wondered aloud if you were ever going to be able to get through all of this in one go, you had to thank the heavens that they were arranged per ten years.

Now this was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

To you right, Roman paintings of men in red capes. No you did not need that.

Next to that, Greek figurines. Definitely did not need those.

To the father right, Mesopotamian spoons and clay objects. No, now you had to definitely start looking somewhere else.

You scoured through the Mongol works, and those from imperial Japan. Until, bingo. Works from British India next to the works of the Victorian era.

Hands fumbling into the large pockets of your trench coat, you were trying to reach for the book that created a bulky mess inside your clothing. But it alarms you when your hands press against what feels like a stray page, and you immediately fish your hands out to see what it is.

To your surprise, all in black ink - like the remnants of those from the torn page from your book - is a portrait of your own self, with eyes sad, a wavering darkness behind. Body reacting in shock your feet bring you two steps behind, where you knock over a few pieces of silverware.

From around the corner, you hear a panicked voice call for you. He sounds as if he ran for miles with an expression so relieved to see you, “miss, we have been looking all over for you.” This man with white hair, peculiarly dressed in a tailored uniform, he looks familiar.

You realize, he looks exactly like one of the portraits drawn in one of the pages you have pondered upon when you viewed them.

As if your own body cannot take this torment of confusion, you feel your pulse rise to your head.

And then you faint.

“I will see you there soon.” A voice whispers into your ear, unmistakably Moon Taeil’s, and you wake from your slumber.

It would be impossible to ignore the throbbing sensation you could feel buzzing through the back of your neck. So you try to sit up in your wake, moaning terribly at the sensation. This all had to he some terrible dream.

“Miss, you are awake!” Your eyes are wide open, and you definitely would want to believe that this is all still a dream.

“What year is it?” The question rolls out of your lips naturally, because you can definitely note that you do not feel as though you are in a familiar environment.

“It is the time of Queen Victoria, miss.” Goodness, you didn’t expect anybody to answer you back. You had hoped he was a figment of your imagination. The time of Queen Victoria would have meant you were somewhere around two hundred years back, and to anyone who did not see through the situation with less panic and an open mind would think how this was all impossible.

“Where am I?” You say with squinted eyes, but you know you do not know where you are.

“Why you are back in the manor, miss. In your own quarters.” The man that scared you earlier in the antique shop mentioned, and you try to take a look around inside the room. No LED lights and modern dressers, just candles and carpets— lacquered wooden furniture, velvet decorated everything. No. No. No. No. No! This had to be a joke, right?

“My quarters?” No way in hell this was your’s, how could you have something like this in the middle of the fucking times?

“Yes,” he says, worriedly, “my lord has yet to be told of your return, but I do believe you need to recover from your fall.” It was either this was a horrible prank, a kidnapping gone wrong, or he was genuinely speaking his own truth: perhaps he did know you? Surely this was a mix up, maybe he mistook you for somebody else.

“Might I ask,” in your head you realize that you can take advantage of his attentiveness to you - that you might be able to get a little bit more knowledge of the situation, “what is my role in this household?”

“Must you ask such an obvious question?” He gawks, but you pretend that your head aches and you can see how he falters even more.

“It’s just, my head. I believe I might have gotten a concussion from my fall.” Your acting is perfect. Maybe you broke through something here.

“Oh!” He is alarmed. “You are the soon-to-be lady of the house!” Interesting, that would be enough to give you some clue as to why this man is acting overprotective of you. Miss, my lord, the manners. He must be a servant of the time.

“Lady of the house?”

“Soon to be, miss Y/N. You have been living in the manor for a year now, ever since you were determined to take my lord’s hand in marriage.” He used your name. Your name, how did he know your name?

Okay, maybe something was happening and maybe it was true. There was absolutely no way at this point.

“Have you pledged any of your loyalties to me?” You panic, asking him this just so you would be able to take things easier. If you were stuck in a time frame so far away from your own, you had to figure out who you were in this life.

“Yes, but not any more than that to my lord.” He answers honestly.

“Then if I had told you that I’ve lost some of my memories because of my fall, would you tell anyone that I was crazy?” You say, knowing that in this era memory loss could very well be attributed to being a loony.

“I have seen things beyond my own comprehension, miss. I am sure I can keep this much a secret.” He offers a sad smile, but he no longer seems as alarmed as earlier. “Although you would have to tell me the extents of your memory loss; I do not believe the other residents of the manor would take this news with kindness. I would not want to give them any more power to scrutinize your every move. The only thing I wish for is good fortune for your union with my lord, they need not intervene where they are not needed.”

You nod, trying to process everything all at once. “I’m afraid it is everything I have forgotten.” But he only nods his head as if he was expecting that answer from you.

“I will make sure you know enough before the young lord arrives from his travel.” He sends a bow and makes his way out the large double doors.

“What is your name?” You ask him before he is able to exit.

“Yuta Nakamoto, it could also work the other way around, miss.”

“Thank you, Yuta.” You offer him a smile, and he returns the same gesture.

Looking down at the clothing you are wearing, you notice they are still the same things you wore to the antique shop. Remembering the book, you reach out into your pockets and realize that it is no longer there.

Despite your efforts to constantly pinch yourself and slap yourself at the most random times to prove that none of this is real, you find yourself stuck in this manor - in the burrows of time, where there is nothing and no one who can explain to you why you were here - nothing ever really works. Unfortunately, even through the hundreds of times you find yourself pacing inside the room and repeatedly putting your hands in and out of the large pocket of your trench coat, no real answers are offered to you. The moment you breathe in as loudly as you do, you begin to accept your fate.

Then again, you’d like to believe that there is some divine purpose as to why you are set out to be here, but you wonder why it has to be as cruel as this? Was this perhaps a punishment?

To you and Yuta’s advantage, the manor was mostly empty for the two days it took for him to explain everything to you. Only the housemaids who tended to the kitchen and the other chores were there with you.

“I need for you to tell me what their impressions are of me, otherwise I wouldn’t know how to act around them.” You tell Yuta with caution before you enter the kitchen through the stairs of nook near where your quarters were, he woke you up very early to begin with what he called a ‘grand tour.’ You had change out of your questionable modern garments - discovering the scarily large closets filled with corset bodices and petticoats, large layered skirts that you heavily questioned. The thing that relieved you the most was that they were all dyed in your preferred black, although you could not shake off the image of your own portrait off your mind and how that all came to be.

“No worries miss, they adore you.” He says as if it were nothing. And once they meet you, they let out screams of relief. All of them claiming to have missed you, wondering about your whereabouts.

“How long was I gone, Yuta?” Walking through the west wing where apparently his lord kept all the rooms strictly for scholarly uses, you ask this very question. If time and space were any similar from where you came from, you would have been gone for a year.

“About four months, miss.” Not the answer you were expecting. “Although your disappearance has not been noted elsewhere as a disappearance. The lord of the manor has been very upset ever since you had gone, but he made sure to let the news come out as if you had studied far away for the time being.” And there it is again, the mention of this man you are meant to be engaged to.

“Why would he say that if my whereabout were uncertain?” You arch a brow.

Yuta lets a sigh leave his lips as you walk through the rotunda, with the goal to ultimately reach the foyer so he can show you what the gardens look like. “Image is important to my lord, if you have not noticed how grand his home is - I’m sure you will soon come to terms with the idea that you are marrying a very rich man, this means that he has to be sure that all words about him are only kind and unsuspecting. You are from a rather good background yourself, miss; never has anyone seen such a capable lady. His father struck a fair deal with regard to your hand in marriage, and the reason why my lord is able to call all of this his is because he did not refuse you among the other hundreds of choices he had lined up. He had to stray away from the truth because he did not want any panic to ensue on the basis of your sudden loss, but part of me wants to believe that he also hoped that you were going to come back on your own and that you disappeared for good reason.”

Realistically speaking, you find the idea of entering this life with no idea who you were meant to be already disturbing. But the added bonus of being somebody else’s fiancée, granting that you do not know him either, is absolutely nettling.

What did he look like? You think that you must not allow your imagination to go wild, and your mind would settle on a plump man who’s absolutely subordinate to the wishes of his parents. Maybe, just a little pathetic.

How did he treat you? Yuta’s constant adoration for his boss makes you want to believe that he was all kind and benevolent. But you were in the 1800’s! He must have been a perverted misogynist for all you cared!

Did he love you? Apparently you have been engaged for the better part of two years, and yet you haven’t married. But it would mean that you have been living here for quite some time now. Did it mean that the two of you were any familiar with each other?

Just when you expected for the surprises to be over, you notice the large painting hanging by the foyer. A freakishly detailed piece of work that spoke through the many different weavings of people, a crowd painted in front of you - and their limbs seemed to be moving based on how beautiful this piece was painted. You could not mistake this piece for anything else but that of Yuno’s work, and this you could tell by how you memorized those brush strokes and each emotion that flooded through your own body.

Maybe there was purpose to your arrival here in this period of time.

But then the large deep brown wooden doors decorated with accents of gold open, and your eyes skip to find out who just arrived.

The view of a man is the first thing that comes into view, and through his shellshocked expression your own body heats up at the sight of this man. He had the most beautiful hair, impossibly colored down to the richest regal shade of blue. His jaw, the way it clenched, accenting the proportion of his nose and the thickness of the eyebrows that framed everything together. His eyes, the gaze they held. God, this man was art if it were possible.

“My lord.” Yuta greets, panicked. While your eyes skip back and forth to the butler and to the man he had just greeted.

Oh, this was him.

end of first part.

next: second part

808 notes · View notes

seriouslyhooked · 5 years ago

Text

Can’t Say No (At Christmas)

CS one-shot set in the future. Hope is three and Emma and Killian are still very much in the throws of a happily ever after, but Killian wants to do something special for Emma for Christmas. With the help of their family and the town, he manages to fulfill a Christmas wish for his wife in exactly the kind of over-the-top fluffy and sweet way you’d expect from me. Includes holiday surprises, Christmas cheer, and a healthy dash of true love. Rated T. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! I really did not know if I was going to be able to get this drabble done, but I am so happy to say that I did and to share it with you all tonight. I know that this Christmas is going to be so different for so many of us, and that it has been a hard year of uncertainty and stress. My gift to our little fandom is this story, focused on Emma and Killian a few years after we got to see them in the show. It’s inspired by the spirit of Christmas, the cheesiness that only Hallmark movies can provide, and the song ‘No Problem’ by Dylan Schneider. I love the idea that Killian cannot deny Emma anything, and that at Christmas he has to make Emma’s wishes come true. I hate to spoil any more of this, but I will just say thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know how the hell you pulled this off, mate, but I got to hand it to you, this is really something special.”

The words David uttered from the bottom of the ladder were high praise, despite the dig at Killian’s favorite endearment. Tonight though, Killian would let the jab slide. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to argue with Emma’s father. Instead he hustled down the rungs and back to solid ground beside his friend. He took stock of the room once more, running his hand through his hair and tracing each corner of the barn with his gaze. There was very little about the place that was recognizable. It had been sufficiently transformed, from an old, dusty tomb of farm equipment, to a space fit for the evening ahead.

“It pays to be a good guy in the end,” Killian joked. Playing up the early days of their knowing each other when Killian was anything but a hero. “Turns out I’ve helped quite a lot of people these past few years. They were eager to return the favor.”

“That’s true enough, but I think the fact that you did this all for Emma plays a big part too.”

There was no doubt about that, and the mere reminder of his wife brought a smile to his lips. She was going to be surprised by this, and there was nothing that he loved more than surprising his Swan. Killian could hardly wait for the look of excitement that would spread across her face, and the light that would appear in her jade colored eyes. Her cheeks would flush from realization, and her hands would move unbiddenly, as if she couldn’t quite contain the excitement or suspense. Emma was always the most beautiful of women, and a miracle to be sure, but when treated to a gift that was truly worthy of her, she was transcendent, his own personal star and tempting taste of heaven.

“Any word from Snow?” Killian asked, checking his watch and seeing they had made good time, despite the hecticness of the day. He had enough time to catch a shower and prepare himself, but he needed to be sure that Emma and Hope were sufficiently occupied in the meantime.

“Better – she sent a video while you were hanging the last of the garland.”

David offered his phone and Killian laughed at the sight. Snow and Emma had taken Neal and Hope out of town to a nearby ski resort that was hosting all sorts of winter activities for kids. In the video Emma, Hope, and Neal were all making snow angels, until Neal gave the signal and he and Hope pivoted to throwing snowballs at Emma. The only problem was Hope was far too little and bundled up in snow gear to be effective. She was having the time of her life though, and at the end of the video, Emma scooped their daughter up and nuzzled her close, bestowing a kiss on her curly brown hair, which had escaped its winter cap. Hope was a dazzling blend of him and Emma, but her goodness and ability to inspire love was totally her mother’s doing.

“Perfect. You good here for the time being?” David nodded, pivoting from his assistant role to commander in chief with the quickness of one-time prince. Content that his tasks were in good hands, Killian headed out, eager to put the next parts of his plan in place.

Things moved quickly from there. He showered and readied himself for the kind of night his Emma had imagined, ignoring the strangeness of his reflection as he did. He would never feel quite right in these damn tuxedos, but Emma’s wish was specific and it included the blasted suit. It also included a number of gifts for Emma and for Hope, which he pulled from the one place in the house Emma never ventured to – the garage. From the back of the storage space there, he grabbed a number of boxes that he’d stuffed away last week, and brought them all inside. After checking the contents were free from any water or dirt, he was convinced things were as they should be, and he left the gifts underneath the Christmas tree.

The only thing left to craft was the note for Emma that would set her surprise in motion. He hadn’t dared to write it out before, wanting to save it for this moment. It felt right to speak from the heart and to put in words exactly how he felt tonight. Still, it took time to get the letter exactly right, and he must admit he grew a bit sentimental when crafting it. A time or two he fell into recent and more distant memories of their lives together, feeling the warmth in his soul that could only ever come from the truest love. Luckily, he had enough of his wits about him and time was on his side. Soon he heard the sound of a car pulling up the drive just as he closed the envelope with Emma’s name and placed it on the tree, and with the stealth accrued in his past life, he slipped out the back door just before his girls came in.

“Mama, look! Santa came early,” he heard Hope say as he quietly rounded the side of the house. For a moment he was truly tempted to steal a look and watch this scene play out, but he reminded himself that there was still more to be done, and instead headed down the street to where a not so patiently waiting Snow was parked.

“Killian, thank God! I thought you’d never get here!” she exclaimed as he opened the door, but before he could reply, young Neal let his own thoughts be known.

“Mom, it’s been like sixty seconds. Literally. Look, I timed it on the stopwatch Henry gave me. 63 seconds.

“No, has it only been a minute? I’m so excited I can’t tell. It feels like forever. I was waiting for this all day. It was so hard not to spill the beans.”

“But you didn’t, right?” Killian checked, pivoting to Neal for the truth. When the boy gave him a thumbs up, he let out a breath. “Good. But it all might be for not if we don’t get a move on.”

“Oh, right. We’ve got to go. We’ve got a Christmas miracle to deliver.” Neal groaned at the words and Killian remained quiet prompting Snow to ask the question, “Sorry, too cheesy?”

“For tonight? No, strangely it’s just right.”

And with that, they pulled away from the curb, headed back towards the barn and the long-awaited surprise.

……………….

“Mama, look! Santa came! Santa came!”

At first Emma didn’t understand the words from her daughter. She was just trying to get her bearings after peeling the snow clothes off of Hope and discarding her own jacket on the hook by the door. Her boots were barely off and her scarf was still wound around her neck. She couldn’t imagine how Hope still had so much energy, but then she remembered – three year olds were like comic book characters, with a super power of endless energy.

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow, honey,” Emma said, righting her clothes and letting go of a big breath, before walking towards the living room. “Two more sleeps until Santa.”

“But look, Mama, pwesents!”

Emma followed her daughters pointing finger across the way, and low and behold there were gifts under the tree that had not been there this morning. Her curiosity was peaked, but when she saw the white envelope secured in the branches of their evergreen tree, she had an inkling of what was happening.

“Killian,” she murmured walking forward, and running her fingertips across the delicate paper.

“Daddy?” Hope asked excitedly, and Emma nodded as she opened the envelope, only to fight off tears of love when she read the letter.

My Dearest Emma,

There are no gifts that I could ever give you that compare to all you’ve given me. I know and accept that, but this time of year is different. It’s a season predicated on love, light, and yes, even a bit of magic. So I had to try, for your sake and for mine.

Christmas is about showing the people you love what they mean to you. It’s about giving love and feeling love, and knowing that even in the dark of a winter night, there is hope and light ahead. It’s about reminding loved ones that you care, that you’re rooting for them, and that their dreams are your dreams too. You taught me that, you and Hope and Henry, and I swear to you that all I could ever want is to make you happy, and to grant the wishes you carry in your heart.

“Ooo, pwetty,” Hope said, dragging Emma’s eyes down to where her daughter had already begun opening the parcels below. Inside the white garment box was a gorgeous crimson colored dress, breathtaking in its elegant design. The satin and the beading were exquisite, and the color was to die for, and like something from a dream. Hope offered the box to her, knowing even at age three that it wasn’t the right size for her. “For you, Mama.”

“Thank you, princess,” Emma said, taking the box in hand, wanting to look at it in full, but knowing the letter was still more important.

You are everything to me, Emma. Everything and so much more. You and our children hold my whole universe in your hands. Tonight, I hope to take your hand in mine, and remind you that in life, all you really need is the perfect partner.

“He didn’t,” Emma whispered, looking down from the letter which had been signed with love by her pirate. Then she looked at the other presents Hope was opening. A beautiful pair of heels, a white fur muff, and a necklace that sparkled, along with all the same things for Hope that were more their daughter’s style and perfect for her size. The last gift was another envelope, with a card. On the top in cursive script it read ‘Selected Suitors for Emma Jones’ and the only name was Killian’s. “Oh my god, he did. It’s a dance. He planned a Christmas dance for me.”

“Dance?” Hope asked and Emma crouched down to help her daughter really open her own garment box, where a beautiful princess-style dress was waiting for her. As soon as she saw it Hope let out a sound of pure delight, clapping her hands together at a hastened clip. At that moment, the front door opened, and Emma looked, expecting to see Killian but instead seeing her son, dressed up in a tuxedo and looking downright dashing. It would have been a shock either way, but this year, when she’d been bracing herself for her son being away for the holiday, it felt like an even greater gift.

“Henry?” she asked, as Hope bolted for her brother. Instinctively, Henry scooped her up, accepting all her hugs and kisses before turning his eyes back to Emma.

“Surprise! Well, part of it anyway. But we’ve got to get a move on, or we’ll be late.”

“Where are we going?” Hope asked. Henry responded by whispering in her ear, low enough that Emma couldn’t hear. Whatever he said made Hope gasp. “Really? We’re going there?”

“Sure are. But we have to get ready. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got Hope. You do what you need to do.”

Emma was spurred into motion, grabbing the gifts marked for her and heading upstairs. In thirty minutes, she and Hope were both ready for whatever awaited them, and though Emma had her suspicions, she was in no way prepared when they arrived at the old McDonald farm. Pulling around back to the barn, there were dozens of people milling around. Everyone in town was here tonight, dressed up and partaking in merriment, but when they left the car and walked inside, Emma was truly stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” she said aloud, taking in the gorgeous decorations. The space was totally transformed, a perfect blend of rustic refinement. The colors were vivid and vibrant, the air was warm and filled with the scent of cinnamon and honey, and the joy here was palpable. There was a buzzing electricity that crackled in the air. This was what all those Christmas movies strove to recreate but could never quite capture, and Emma took it all in knowing that her husband had made this just for her.

Scanning the room for him, Emma was first greeted with the sight of her Mom and Dad and brother. They came forward immediately, hugging her and Hope and Henry and extending their thoughts.

“Oh, honey, you look spectacular!” her mother exclaimed with tears in her eyes, holding her hands and looking at her red dress. It was a truly wonderous design, that hugged every one of Emma’s curves just right while still feeling of the season. It was classic and timeless and more than a little sexy, but it was appropriate for the night, when everyone was dressed to the nines.

“So do you guys,” Emma said honestly, taking in her mom’s sapphire ball gown, and her Dad and brother’s tuxes.

“I’m a princess, Grandpa,” Hope said happily and Emma’s father immediately agreed as the band began to play a slower melody.

“There’s no denying that. Care to dance with me, Princess Hope?” He asked, bowing to her daughter. Hope giggled but took Emma’s hand instinctively, looking at her for permission and clarity.

“What about you, Mama?”

“Don’t worry, sprout,” Henry said nodding across the room and using his favorite nickname for his sister. “Dad’s got her taken care of.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Killian, as if this was a first date and not years into their marriage. She couldn’t help the butterflies swarming within her, and then, like magic the crowd of people parted, and there, across the room was her man. It should have come as no surprise how handsome he would look. Emma was well versed in how roguishly hot her pirate could be, but in a tux it was a whole other story. Maybe it was the rarity of seeing him like this, or maybe Killian was just one of those men who was born to wear a tux, but either way she was struck by him. Everything seemed to stop around her, and all she could sense was the man who completely owned her heart.

A few moments later they were together again. Emma hadn’t even realize she’d been walking towards him, and him to her, but when he took her hand she felt her blood hum in anticipation. She was caught in his eyes, sensing the mixture of love and desire that was so intoxicating, and waiting for him to speak, because words in this moment truly failed her.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he said to her, the gravel of his tone washing over her and sending a shiver down her spine in that delicious kind of way. “The fantasies I’d conjured in my mind’s eye could never do you justice.”

“So you were fantasizing about this, huh?” she asked, her voice thready as she turned, purposefully taunting him with a view of all her best angles. This time he let out a low growl that spiked her desire to tease him. God damn, there were people around! How could she be this hot and bothered? Oh right, she was married to a sinfully attractive and impossibly romantic man. This was par for the course.

“Aye, love, and I promise those musings will prove more than satisfactory when we get home.” His voice dipped low and she swallowed hard, trying to tamp down her own building need. Then something shifted in his eyes, and she knew before he said a word that something immensely thoughtful was about to be shared. “I hope it’s everything that you wanted, love. Those blasted ‘Hallmark towns’ have a lot more built-in Christmas cheer than Storybrooke, but all it took was a hint that this was what you wanted, and everyone came together.”

It dawned on her that the wish he was referring to was one that she’d made a few weekends ago when they were laying in bed watching TV. She usually skipped the Hallmark Christmas extravaganza, but this year she was feeling sentimental. Maybe it was the fact that Hope was finally hitting an age where she was starting to understand the season, or more likely it was the pregnancy hormones from their little one on the way. She was only twelve weeks along, and wasn’t even showing yet, but her self-coined pregnancy induced crazy brain was in full swing, and had been from the start. The only thing getting her through most days was Killian, and then he went and did something like this… it was too much for her, she couldn’t take it.

“I love you,” she confessed, blurting it out like it was some big secret instead of established fact. “Like a lot. A lot a lot.”

“A lot a lot,” Killian parroted with a grin, pulling her with him out to the dance floor before taking her in his arms. She melded into his muscled physique, trying not to swoon as the melody carried them away.

“You know I’m not as good at the whole poetic declarations thing as you are.”

“Few can be, love,” he joked. She raised her brow at him in quiet consternation, and he only laughed before turning her into a low dip on the dance floor and reminding her that he was in total control of himself out here. “But where words might fail you, action is your strong suit. You show me every day how much you love me, Emma. And every day I thank my lucky stars to have that love.”

He made a fair point. Emma was, after all, a woman of action, and so she decided to take some now. Though they were dancing, she stalled their moment to pull him in for a kiss, giving them both a taste of what was to come when the night drew to a close. The sparks between them ignited instantly, and without looking, Emma knew some of her magic was radiating from within. When they pulled apart she was almost dizzy from the delight, but Killian was even more effected. He had that boyish grin of his in full display, and that tiny hint of bashfulness that came when he’d done something really well. Only when she heard the oohing and aahing of the people around them did she realize their magic had created stars along the ceiling of the barn, making it appear that they were all dancing under an inky black sky bursting with constellations.

From a distance, Emma heard her daughter ask if it was ‘magic time’ now, but before she and Killian needed to step in, Regina told her ‘Not tonight, kid,’ and Henry whisked her off for her another dance. This gave Emma and Killian time, time to enjoy the fruits of all he’d done, and to revel in this moment for as long as they could.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. You’ve made it so perfect, I never want it to end.”

“What is it they say in those movies, love? Oh right – every day is Christmas when we’re together.”

And even though it was horribly corny, and she should have rolled her eyes at such a lame joke, Emma found that she couldn’t. She was simply too happy and grateful to feign otherwise. Instead she savored every moment of their Christmas dance, and the night they shared thereafter, knowing this would be one of the best days she’d ever had, and that somehow, some way, her pirate would find other means of making the future just as bright.

……………………

Girl I got a no problem Yeah, it's a bad habit, the way I gotta have it With or without you around All ya gotta do is call me, and tell me that you're lonely You're always stringing me out Yeah, they say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, so here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Girl, I should know better, yeah, I should know never To let you in just to leave If it's just two letters, then why can't I ever Find a way to piece 'em together Let's say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, I'm admitting it, here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Yeah, you already know if you're asking me What the answer's always gonna be It's gonna be, yeah Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Can't say no to you Yeah, you already know if you're asking me Girl, I got a no problem That the answer's always gonna be 'Cause I can't say no to you Girl, I got a no problem 'Cause I can't say no to you

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed this little dose of holiday cuteness and none of this is offensive in any way or to any story line. Most of you know I never watched the last season of the show, so I don’t know what they say happened to Henry and everybody. I only knew Emma and Killian did eventually have a baby girl named Hope. Anyway, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and healthy holiday season. I am grateful for you all, from the ride or die readers who comment on every post, to the people passing by who just wanted a little bit of Christmas cheer. You are such a force for good in my world, whoever you are, and I thank you for your light and kindness in these trying time. I wish you all the best this Christmas and in the New Year, and more than anything I wish you love! Sending my best vibes your way now and always, xE.

The Captain Swan Mixtape oneshot series:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195

28 notes · View notes

callme-mrsholmes · 5 years ago

Text

Hi. My name is Jessica Johnson. When I wrote this the date was February 19th, 2012 at approximately 3:00 PM. This will post on my 26th birthday. I'm not sure what the world will be like or even if there will be people around to read this.

As I said before, my name is Jessica Johnson. I am 17. The year is 2012. The world is screaming. There is nothing but terror all around us.

The capitalists have taken over our lives. Soon we will have drones flying over out skies, watching everything we do. They will censor what we can read, what we can watch, and what we will learn. They already control our schools.

They give us petty arguments about healthcare and abortion, creationalism and evolution, pepsi and coke. We don't have any real choice but this: Be repressed, fight back, or die. I don't think in my life time, which if things continue as they are will be short, that there will be any true freedom.

I'm terrified. Being female in the day and age, even a white female, is dangerous. We may have equal voting rights and supposedly equal opportunities, but the Republicans are waging a war on all women. They are taking away our rights to our own bodies. They call us murders for choosing a better life for ourselves. Yes, we rid our bodies of a potential life, but what kind of life would they live if they were to be born? Only to die as soldiers. Only to be raised on the poverty stricken streets. I cannot see how any woman in her right mind would raise a child like that. Their crimes against homosexuals and people of other colors and religion are also numerous. Until last year homosexuals weren't even allowed to serve openly in the military. We treat Muslims like they are all terrorists, but in my lifetime I've seen more Christian terrorists than anything.

I am preparing to blend in and rebel. I broke off a friendship that meant the world to me just so I will have less of a reason to give up on the future that I want. I've been getting used to wearing dresses. I fear soon that will be the dress code. I have bought a bag that will be perfect for sneaking around and running missions. I will never surrender.

It's funny because I just wanted to be happy. I wanted to be happy, have a family, be loved, and write. I never wanted to be depressed, abused, and suicidal. I never dreamed I'd be waiting for my time to come, sitting on the sidelines watching, getting ready to run to the frontlines at any moment.

That is my life now, preparing, waiting, hoping, even praying to the gods I don't believe in. I want to be free. I want the children who I will never meet, who aren't even born yet to have a better future. I don't want them to be beaten. I don't want them to be cold and hungry. I want them to have a true education, not like the one that's provided to kids today.

We are dying. We are a dying species. Before 2012 is over, I fear that we will face the greatest decision the human race has ever seen. We will either become openly slaves or we will accept love and hate. Apathy is our problem. We do not feel. We do not care. We do not live. The things we own, own us. The people who own the companies that make the things we own, own our souls.

I fear I will not live to see the future. If it is horrible, I do not wish to see it. I just hope if I survive, he will forgive me.

21 notes · View notes

katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Rouge 2

A/N PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE ON IF MENTIONS OF SUICIDE CAN OR DO TRIGGER YOU. I WILL BE UNABLE TO PUT A READ MORE ON THIS FICTION FOR A WHILE.

"I'm thinking of ending things."

A thought that has nestled itself in the back of your mind. Often creeping back to the forefront of your thoughts. Especially when things start to go right.

You stare down at the street below, many stories up. The street a long twisting river of tar, cars dwarfed boats and people much more like ants than anything else.

You thighs burn, soles of your feet tingle, urging you to join the bustling traffic below.

L’Appel du Vide.

The wind is cold as it whips through your thin shirt, chilling you to the bone as late winter refuses to die this high up, while the trees below have since begun to bloom.

Balancing on one leg the other dangles like a rag doll over the edge.

But this won't answer the call of your "dream" and you should know.

You've "fallen" from higher.

Still taking a step *is* tempting.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The voice is dark, deadly and you do not need to turn around to know exactly who it belongs too.

At least not since you were denied your one true joy. He has been like a shadow lately all though much to his dismay.

Not even Bakugou Katsuki could deny an order that came from the director.

It did not help that it was also his old Idol.

You twirl as if dancing before jumping from the ledge to the roof of the building. The hot head stands with narrowed eyes, toned arms crossed over a chiseled chest. He notices that your eyes are dull. Dead. It causes his stomach to twist in aggravating knots but you will never know what you do to him.

He stands in tones of bleached grey. Your eyes flutter from how hard they roll, especially so when he puts on this act.

You note the color fading in his eyes and wonder how much longer until it is gone. Until your world is once again plunged into a haze.

"I've fallen from higher." You state as if that is a fact he cares about. A strong hand latches harshly onto your wrist, tightening his grip as he pulls you further from the edge and to the door.

"Director wants to see you." He bites out, yanking you closer to him, "Now."

You allow him to drag you down the stairs and along the hall until the two of you stand before his door.

"Come in." His voice calls through the oak, you turn the brass handle allowing yourself in.

"Ah, Y/N dear how are you feeling?" His leather chair is turned away from you, he is still seated as he rummages through a filing cabinet behind his desk.

Unmotivated, agitated, depressed.

Suicidal.

These are all the things you want to say.

"The usual." You say instead in a joyful tone, if anyone notices that it is forced neither party says anything.

"Y/N, take a seat. Young Bakugiu, you may go." The director says still looking for that obnoxiously aloof file. You look to the man behind you who's eyes narrow into slits before a door is slammed shut. You take your seat at the large desk.

Finally the director swings around in his large chair, he is dwarfed by its size when before he would have dwarfed the chair. He is no longer the muscular poster man that he was.

No he is thin, cheeks hollowed and grey eyes sunken. He coughs into a handkerchief that is staring to stain a deep shade of grey. You wonder if it hurt when he was hit hard enough to obliterate his innards. Well you knew it hurt, you were more curious as to how much.

And was the physical pain worse than the emotional toll that came with the fall from the highest point in hero history?

You would assume that it was not.

Still you stare Allmight down, this is how he always was for you, only occasionally would he puff into his picture perfect form.

But he could no longer. He places a file on the desk.

"Y/N, you've been doing so well on your paper work. But you're behind again. Starting with the rendition of the incident with yourself, Bakugou, Tomaru and a shady alley." He flips open the mineola folder sliding it towards you. Instantly you pick out Bakugou's unkempt yet more than legible hand writing.

How could you forget it especially since Sensei forced him to share his notes with you for the days you missed class.

You read over the beginning of his account, he showed up just in time. Tomaru's hand was almost fully wrapped around your bicep. One digit away from activating his quirk.

Eyes avert to anywhere but the report, you can no longer read about yet another failure. You gulp down your sadness but all it does is lump oddly in your throat.

"Its exactly as Bakugou states." This time you hold eye contact, giving a small reassuring smile that he clearly doesnt buy. He sighs, tapping at his book titled *"Being a great boss, for dummies"*

You grit your teeth, for a moment you wonder if he would fire you.

Well the bright side of that was at least you wouldn't have any more paper work to do.

"Yes, but Bakugou showed up much later. You were the first to respond. Had he really caught you off guard?" Suspicion almost laces in his tone and you make a meek, embarrassed look. Willing the blood to flush your cheeks.

"Ah yes he truly did. He was as quiet as a mouse." You say softly. He stares you down with intense eyes while you hold his gaze.

You really needed to bullshit Allmight. He was the last person you needed breathing down your neck. After a few long moments he sighs.

"Please get as much paper as you can done. Or if you can only do one report. Please make it this one." With that he slides you the file. You close it shut, holding onto it as you stand to leave.

"I'll do what I can."

Instead you find yourself with eyes crossed as you stare at the bleak monitor.

The report you're working on filled with pages and pages of sentences.

But none that pertain to the actual events you're supposed to be detailing.

*"I'm thinking of ending things."*

Repeats itself over and over and over filling the screen as if it were an award winning novel.

Currently you've run out of "inspiration" so here you sit.

Waiting for it to come back again as the cursor flashes, ticking away the seconds.

Time lost to you as minutes bleed into hours.

"Oi, Zombie." Bakugou taps roughly on your desk, eyes mostly grey with only flecks of red.

Lazily your gaze finds his, he finds the same look in your eyes as this afternoon earning him the same gut wrenching twist. He grits his teeth, fists clenched as he waits for you to come to life.

But you never do.

"I'm not staying too late." You half lie half tell the truth. You'll move when your body is ready that or when you can firmly grasp the concept of time again.

The grey monitor stares back at you as blankly as you stare at it. You press a few keys just to keep it from locking.

Bakugou studies you and your mountain of paperwork, you always some how end of getting out of it. He knows it's not from sheer laziness and he wonders if the Director knows just how bad off you are. So he takes pity and fills it out for you.

Your mind wanders further down the silent rabbit hole, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. For a long enough time you think Bakugou has already gone so it's understandable when you almost jump out of your skin when he slams a popping palm against your desk. The fear comes and goes in a blink of an eye, his iris still only specs of red.

Better than everything being that sun bleached grey.

"Oi, I came in here because shit hair Kirishima is having a party tonight. He asked me to ask you." His voice is as gruff as ever yet you are unphased.

Another lazy stare is sent his way before you click a key on the keyboard once more. Silence stretches between the two of you, he lets out a low growl.

"Its his birthday so you have to go."

"But..." Your eyes flash to your calendar, APRIL in bold black letters stares back at you.

Had you really lost that much time? You were doing better this year, coping nicely, the world almost prismacolor yet something changed.

Snapped.

And for no apparent reason at all you were pulled by the undertow, gasping for air once more.

But seven whole months?

Maybe you hadn't been as well as you thought.

"Finish up whatever the hell it is you're doing because we need to leave, now." Bakugou snarls while you stare down at your lap.

"But I look like shit." You admit, black ripped jeans and a plain black shirt.

"You aren't fucking marrying the man, just seeing him at a party. Now. Get. Up." He leans closer to you, pushing harshly on the power button to smother your computer.

Your novel is lost to the computer God's and you're left staring at your own reflection.

God you really did look like shit. What with how harshly exhaustion and lack of sleep pulled at your once tight features. Eyes shadowed, lips in a perpetual frown.

You sigh as you stand, feeling far from wanting to socialize but it *had* been awhile since you had last seen him and since Bakugou said it was his birthday then really you had no other choice.

The air is cool with the promise of summer coming on the breeze, further sending your body into a confused frenzy.

But October could be warm when it wanted to be. Or so you remind yourself. Bakugou stalks ahead, as he normally does and has done since that incident in the alleyway.

He has a hard time letting you walk to the train station alone, especially at night. You watch as his black shirt and pants blend into the shadows, his grey hair sways in the wind reminding you of dying wheat in a field.

His hair flashes ash blonde for a moment before it returns to ashen grey. He glances over his shoulder to make sure you are still following him and when he decides be doesn't like your snail pace he shouts.

"Get your ass in gear we are already late!"

Although he stops, waiting for you before falling into your step.

Matching your snail's pace.

Before long the two of you are standing on the stoop to the Kirishima residence.

Bakugou looks down at you, he cannot tear his eyes away although he wants to. Dreading what comes next.

This was his least favorite part. He watches with close eyes as you take in a long deep breath that should end in a heavy, shaking sigh but instead it is as if a switch was flipped.

A mischievous smile plays on your lips, your eyes have some sparkle, your cheeks rosey.

It's as if you were *alive* and he loathes to know that you can fake that.

He loathes to know that not a soul can see how badly you're really hurting.

You open the door as soon as your facade sets in, shouting your arrival.

"Hellloooooo!!!" As if it is normal to pop into a home without being invited in. You seem to spy Kirishima quickly, pulling him into a tight hug.

"You wanted to see me?" You ask as you squeeze, his bones groan in protest. He furrows his brow and when he spies Bakugou glaring at the two of you from over the rim of a newfound cup he thinks he has put two and two together.

"Yea let's get you a drink!" Kirishima sing songs pulling you into the quiet kitchen. He pulls down various liquor to which you either approve or deny before he makes you a mixed drink.

"Why thank you, Birthday boy." You purr taking a sip, "Shouldn't I be making you a drink? I mean today *is* October 16th. It's crazy how quickly the year flew by."

Your stomach twists at the thought of another year gone, wasted.

You accomplished nothing. You never had and you never will.

But thankfully your worry does not show in your face or your voice.

This time Kirishima cannot keep his confusion hidden as he stares at you with dull grey eyes.

"Umm today isn't my birthday. It's not October."

"Dont be silly you must be drunk! Bakugou said this was your birthday party! I know I've neglected you all year." You laugh, a tinge of guilt pulls at your heart.

"No it's not that. How do I say this? Y/N, we're in the month of April. It's the 20th" He scratches the back of his head, "I threw this party for Bakugou."

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha angst #katsuki angst #katsuki bakugo #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #bakugou katsuki

199 notes · View notes

kerwritesthings · 5 years ago

Text

California Calling

Summary: It’s just what you do when you love someone

Word Count: 2,340

Warnings: fluff, a teeny tiny blip of heart hurt, but then more fluff

Author Note: Another one of those hitting me out of nowhere pieces. Maybe it’s all the pretty from this past week/weekend? Maybe? I really don’t know. I opened a word doc and next thing I knew I had 500 words, then it somehow made its way up to this 2.3k we’re sitting at now. And in like 2.5 hours? I don’t question the muse anymore.

All I know is this little world will not let me go. I think I’m ok with that. I’ve already got two additional pieces rough sketched in my head. One that falls between part two (Warmth of the Morning) and this that is definitely a little naughtier, the other happening after this one. First part can be read here, second part here.

After that weekend together, after that afternoon when you spent more time tangled up in each other and the sheets than you expected, you made up your mind to push your flight up. Literally, the moment he was out the door to catch his flight you had your phone in hand looking at options. You want a bit more time with him, the time you had as lovely as it was, just wasn’t enough. You have the PTO at work, and if you need to pull a couple late nights and a Saturday in to do it, so be it. He is worth it.

The two of you talk, and you knew after your time in LA, it wasn’t going to be nearly as bad as the last few months had been. You have a few dates blocked out in both your calendars already that were meant for the two of you, and the two of you only - even with him not knowing exactly what his schedule was looking like.

“Don’t care,” he says, dusting a kiss to your temple as you sit on the couch next to each other, calendar and notes apps open. “I’ll schedule around it. This is important, you’re important.”

The thought of that making you smile as you start to make your plans to pull off a surprise of your own. Knowing you wouldn’t be able to pull this off alone, you think quickly of who the best cohort in your new scheme of plans would be and more so who was out in LA that could be trusted with a secret.

Thinking about coming in early, wanna help me surprise him C? You’re the one who can make shit happen for him and not give away anything! you shoot off in a quick text before digging back into flights on phone while balancing and cross referencing your massive work planner across your knees. Finding a direct flight was harder than you thought, but if you push up a self-imposed deadline, you’d be able get out first thing Wednesday morning instead of the original late-night flight Friday. Plus, you’d still have the whole week after as originally planned.

Good weekend then? :) Only if I get to deliver you from the airport and see Shawn fall ass over teakettle in person when you get in early. He’s been good, but you can tell how much he misses home. And you. I’m in, so just tell me what I need to do and when. Nothing’s crazy the week leading into the show just writing and studio time, so we can make things work. Will be good to see you, been too long!

You smile, grateful that his work family has in turn become an extension of yours.

Thanks – looking at flights now and seeing what I can do with the office. Stay tuned and will text you everything shortly. You’re a good man.

After a bit of maneuvering on your side with a promise to your boss, who is a saint and adores your boyfriend, that you’d be available via phone or text and only in the dire case of any blow ups those few extra days all the things began to fall into place. Now, to keep this close to the chest and not give anything away.

The night before you’re due to leave, you almost slip.

“You’re avoiding me,” he whines through the speaker of your phone. “Don’t pick up my FaceTime, ignore my first call, leave my texts on read. I see how it is.”

You know he’s joking, but you also can hear the slight tinge of disappointment backing his voice. It’s been a bit of a chase the last few days. Quick calls, most of which miss each other, texts on the fly and no FaceTime.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m trying to get all this work done before I leave,” you say, throwing some of your last-minute purchases into the open suitcase on your bed, including another little surprise for him. “No distractions while I’m out there. Just you, me and that LA sunshine.”

“I know, and I don’t mean to sound petulant. I’m sorry,” he sighs and takes a breath. “We haven’t had a ships passing in the night beat like this since the thick of the last tour block. I’m feeling stuck on things in the studio though everyone says it’s solid and, shit I just miss you honey.”

You plop on the edge of the bed, running a hand over your face. It hurts your heart hearing him this way, but you know all this is for a reason. You cannot tell him; it’s going to be all worth it tomorrow morning when he walks into the studio to you. “I’m going to finish this last thing and then pull together a playlist for you. Some stuff I’ve been noodling on, some old favorites, couple off that sleepy playlist of mine you swear up and down you don’t like, but I know you listen to. I’ll listen to it too, so it’ll feel like we’re together cuddled down listening to it. We’re almost there. Couple more days and nights, then I’m there.”

“I love you,” he says easily, full of affection. You could hear the vestiges of whatever was eating at him starting to slip away. You say your goodnights and you were both off. The playlist wasn’t something you planned on, but it shouldn’t take you too long to pull together. Plus, you could sleep in the car on the way to the airport and on the plane. Making him feel better, feel loved – the loss of a little sleep was nothing compared to that.

Landing in Los Angeles is always something that brings a special feeling, it’s a strange mix of trepidation and excitement. Luckily there was no issues with the flight, so you land on time and can make it through the gates towards baggage claim fairly unscathed. As you made your way down the escalator, there in sunglasses and a hat to blend in with the other drivers awaiting passengers, with your name on a sign and a Starbucks in hand, is your partner in crime.

“You didn’t need to come in,” you say chuckling before wrapping him in a hug.

“Your boy would box my ears if I did a drive by pick up and you know that,” he quips, kissing your cheek before trading your bag for the Starbucks cup in his hand. “Come on, let’s get your other bag and get up to the studio. He thinks they’re swapping out some equipment so that’s why they have to have a later start.”

“Genius call, and he’d only believe that from you. He’s got no clue, does he?” you ask with a Cheshire cat grin as the carousel starts to spin.

Making your way through the masses and to the garage wasn’t too much of a time suck, you were still on target. It was LA so there was going to be traffic no matter what, but landing as early as you did was a at least a little helpful since you were heading straight across town and then some since the boys made the new place by the beach home base for this go.

“Should I be worried that you’re quiet? Normally you’re talking my ear off by now if we haven’t seen each other in this long,” he asks, the care tinging through his tone as he makes his way up onto the PCH.

You shake your head, “No, no not at all Cez, sorry. Late night last night, late nights all last week to make this happen. All worth it though when I see his face.”

He reaches over, squeezing the hand resting on the cup between you. “I’m glad you have each other and love each other the way you do. I always worried he’d not find his person, so wrapped up in the work and so focused. I remember the day after he met you the first time. He had a different smile that morning. I knew right away, even when he probably didn’t. You were something special for him, to him. You understand and respect this crazy bullshit we’re in, which takes a whole other level of care and person to get. Helps you’re a bad ass in your own right. I’m just happy he’s happy, and that you’re happy. That you’re happy together like this? Best thing.”

“Damnit don’t make me cry what little makeup I have on all off,” you sniff out. “I love him. It’s just that simple. It’s not easy, god you know that. But I would rather deal with all this than not have him and love him. Why you do the crazy shit like this.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you’re heading off the highway and winding your way through the still quiet streets. Finally, you pull up to a set of dark gates, well hidden with greenery.

“They basically took a pre-development boom location, this old 50’s old beach house with its massive garage and converted it. It’s a pretty solid setup, off the beaten path and not well known, but it’s state of the art. I can see this becoming a regular thing with the ‘shed. Plus, it’s a quick wander down to the water from here,” he explains as the gates pull back and you head through.

Your phone pings as you pull to a stop and open the car door.

Finished at the gym and off to the studio. Nothing cray so just call when you can today, love you xo <3

“Perfect timing, he’s on his way up. Have I said thank you yet Cez? Because…” you start before being wrapped up in another hug.

“You’re family, don’t even,” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll go stash your bags, just head through to the studio. Door is around that cluster of birch trees. I’m also on good knowledge that big leather couch is good to curl up on for a nap. I’ll make sure to head in with him. I don’t think the rest of the guys are due in until a little after him, he wanted to work a run by himself first.”

You make your way into the studio space and it’s better than described, or from the photos Shawn has sent along. It’s so easy to see why this will fall into a place where he feels comfortable and creative. Warm wood, windows, well-worn rugs and the infamous camel colored couch. It’s easy to sink into the cool leather and down into the cushions, sliding into a dozy twilighty state – not quite sleeping but not quite awake.

You hear voices, which bring you more towards full consciousness, but you stay cozied into the couch.

“I want to get this one track done before everyone decides to come in and have opinions, thought of something last night and I just want to have it down first,” your boyfriend prattles on as you hear him push open the door, dropping what’s probably his backpack and guitar case onto the floor. “Though I think I need to hash the last of the lyrics out first, maybe. I’ve got time though.”

You see his feet first, then his legs, realizing he’s not paying attention to the couch at all or realizing that you’re there. He’s just standing there, chatting. Not a care to what’s actually behind him or a second thought to the couch whatsoever. You look past his legs, seeing the smile creeping up over Cez’s face as he realizes that Shawn still has no clue what’s awaiting him.

“You may want to kiss your girlfriend hello first though before all of that,” you try to say as seriously as possible, but break out into giggles at the end. “Surprise baby!”

He turns on his heels so quickly that he’s tangled up in himself and in a heap on the floor next to the couch, laughter peeling out from all of you in the room.

“Now that. That was totally worth it. Hope you like your gift, Shawn. Gonna leave you two alone for a bit,” Cez says with a nod before backing out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Shawn is just shaking his head, pulling himself to sit upright, before bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“You, you’re, I just. You,” he murmurs, thumbs brushing ever so carefully across your cheekbones.

“It was my turn, so. I figured go big or go home right? I figured we could use a couple extra days together before everything this weekend. It’s going to be a lot. We know that. And I knew I’d be missing you at this point. I changed my flight literally before you boarded yours back here. I still have all next week too. This is added bonus,” you reply. “I was packing when you called last night, it’s why I couldn’t hop on FaceTime. I didn’t want to give anything away. I was so close to telling you, but I knew I’d see you today. Hearing you last night though, I knew I made the right call to come out here early.”

He just looks at you so softly, so intently. Not saying anything, but still keeping his eyes on you he moves his right hand to slide into your hair, cupping your head and bringing you closer to him until you are nose to nose. Nuzzling against you ever so slightly, nose sliding against yours like a whisper, his eyes slip closed and he exhales. “I am so lucky that you love me, that you made the decision that I’m worthy of your love,” he sighs out, lips just a hair from yours. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this and you, but I’m so damn grateful. I love you, so much.”

He presses in, kissing the breath straight out of you.

Yep. It was absolutely worth it.

TAG LIST: @loveat2am, @sinplisticshawn, @hollandraul, @whenidance

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes story

95 notes · View notes

taeyungie · 4 years ago

Note

hiiiii~ 🎨 pleaseee? 🥺

SKY YESSSS EVERYTHING FOR YOU! YOU'RE HERE! A REAL QUEEN HAS ARRIVED INTO MY ARMS AAAAAAA I CANNOT WAIT TO WRITE A WHOLE BOOK IN THIS ASK ✨👍❤️❤️❤️❤️ idk i know it's silly but i get so much joy from complimenting you in practicular sjdhsjks you're just the cutest and you deserve all the love AND I'M HERE TO GIVE IT TO YOU AT ALL TIMES!!!! 😌😌😌❤️💕💘💓❤️💕💘 you're really truly the one who carries this site on your shoulders and it makes me so incredibly proud of you because you always work so hard 🥺 YOU MAKE SO MANY PEOPLE HAPPY i couldn't imagine being here without you!! YOU'RE ESSENTIAL, ANGEL. Before i start with showering your gifs in love all i want to say is that YOUR GIFS JUST OPEN MY THIRD EYE AND I HEAR ANGELS SING. DON'T YOU TELL ME LATER AGAIN THAT I'M EXAGGERATING (I'll get to that later on 😤) BECAUSE YOU'RE SIMPLY A GENIUS ✨ your style are one in a million, there's no way i could ever get confused on whether a gif is yours because your gifs are unmistakable!! ONE OF A KIND! you're such a precious baby, always being worried if your gifs are pretty and this makes me want to give you all the love (BUT AT THE SAME TIME LIKE 😤😤🤜👊🤛✊🤛👊✊ HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR OWN GIFS???? LIKE /ONE/ EVEN??????? OH MY GOD) and write essays about your every gifset because every 👏 single 👏 one 👏 of your sets makes me want to write poems NOW MOVING ONNNNN

I'll really have to put this under the cut because oh my god i'm so sorry you might want to get a popcorn on the way because.... yeah

good god i think i need to lie down YOU DROPPED A BOMB AND NEXT SECOND YOU JUST VANISHED LIKE '💆🏻‍♀️😌💅🏻 uhuh goodnight' AKSNDKSJSKSKKSKSKSKD ARE YOU SANE THIS IS INSANE FKANDKDKDKSJSSK THE WAY THAT I SAW THIS CLIP BEFORE AND THOUGHT oh he looks gooood BUT NOW YOU DECIDED TO JUST UH??? PUT SOME OF YOUR ✨SPICE✨ INTO THIS MEAL AND PUT IT ON A PLATE LOOKING LIKE /THIS/???????????????? bro i need a doctor i'm having literal heart palpitations...... WHERE DO I EVEN START 🙏 (warning: a very stupid and corny word-play ahead) he's beauty he's grace he's mr. golden face WKDHSKSKKS BUT REALLY HIS SKINNNNNNNNNN HISSSS SKIIIIIINNNNNNNNN 😭😭😭😭😭 THE WAY HE'S GLOWING, PLEASE!!!!!!!!! only you can make them look like this, you pull out in their skin colors everything what's the best, just stunning. next, lips.. oh my goodness, lips. beautiful, amazing, just *mwah*, beautiful, kinda desaturated (which i love in your gifs) red shade. next we have CURVES GAME ON POINT, JUST STUNNING, IF I TELL YOU THAT YOU INSPIRE ME SO MUCH AKSJSJSJSJSJKS amazing blend to the background, beautiful contrast. your gifs make me fall in love with him more and more every day 💔 and i can't leave without mentioning SHARPENING SETTINGS AAAAAAA i love itttt

indeed the cutest pie 😭😭😭 i loooove how you sometimes make your gifs so tall, you know, it's so pleasing to look at and makes them so unique and pretty. I LOVE the coloring here, it's so soft and makes everything look so flawless and light?? because gif itself is a bit dark too and his skin, and light hair are just outstanding but the contrast is so soft that everything is just pulled together nicely and looks amazing! and i love how you just pulled a magenta on me and made his mic look THIS GOOD ahhhh it's THE PRETTIEST MIC EVER 😭

this set is just... yummy 🤷‍♀️ you know???? YOU KNOW i know you know 👏 I'M– so in love with the coral, mustard and soft minty shades of background probably that's why it reminds me just of a good candy 👍👍 to add to that there actually ARE candies on the screen, like 4 of them 👀👀👀👀 again, curves adjustments - *chiefs kiss* i love skin colors and lips, it's something i can't get enough of i just simply want to eat a gif 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

now, we have reached the star of the show. I'll bring back something as a friendly reminder :

you cannot just say it's not the best and then have me just staring at it for five next hours ISLSNSJWNSJSJSNKSSJSJ please PLEASE where am i supossed to start FIRST OF ALL WHICH PARALLEL UNIVERSE YOU'RE LIVING IN THAT YOU MANAGED TO MAKE MAGENTAS LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL I JUST CANNOT UNDERSTAND HOW KAJSJSKS i'm really saying this seriously right now but this gifset made me tear up because i notice every single detail and it overwhelmed me to the very ends of my nerve endings KSJSKSK BECAUSE– 😔 skin color, suit color, hair color, lip color, mic color, sharpening, background, lighting, contrast, exposure.... all of it is just so beautifully composed and i don't think anyone could ever make something this amazing, especially looking at raw footage like comparing your gif to video frame it's just.. insane. you have magic hands and big brain that's all i have to say and i think it's truly one of my favorite sets of yours

run episode koo 🥺🥺 first and foremost i wanna notice and highlight how much i love that you just got rid of...... all blue and green KSJDJS LIKE PERIOD QUEEN AS YOU SHOULD ✨✨✨ i was kinda scared to do it on my own gifs and here i have another example of how you're just a genius, not scared of ANYTHING ✊💯💘 and then we can move onto his beautiful, tanned, golden skin and gorgeous red lips. I LOOOVEEEEEE IT SO MUCH I LOVE CURVES HERE AGAIN AAAAAAA I'll literally say it every time because it's the best part of your every set and I'm A COWARD TO MAKE MY GIFS TOO DARK AND DO THE CURVES THE WAY I WANT TO SKDJJSKS so i admire yours 😌✨

this gifset just simply brings me so much joy, it's like drinking a glass of cold water in the middle of the night, it's like feeling a warm gentle touch of sunlight on your skin when the sun is rising, it's like a fresh breeze ✨ again, stunning coloring, i love how you mixed oranges with this pastel blue and beiges you have kinda going there 🙇‍♀️ on its just so so so pretty AND ALSO OF COURSE /THEM/, THEY ARE JUST SILLY AND BEAUTIFUL, NEXT QUESTION

AJSHSJJSDKABSJDKSKKSS FIRST OF ALL THE ✨BONUS✨ IS LITERALLY ME @ YOU AFTER YOU DROPPED OF THIS GIFSET like you know i like this whole situation we have going on here wink wink how old was he in 2015 lemme do a quick math yeah 18 EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD WAS HE AND HE HAD THE AUDACITY TO LOOK LIKE THIS???? yeah no if i was a stan back then we would have a problem you know 👊✊🤜👊🤛✊👊 me looking like.... just nowhere near /this/ good..... at almost 20th year of my life is crying. i love the use of reds and brown here AND OF COURSE CURVES, MOVING ON

🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯!!!!!! THIS SET LOOKS LIKE A HONEY COMB!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ i love how vibrant and bright the background is but you still managed to restore his skin into a perfect golden shade AHHHHHH it's so pretty

NEXT ONE IS DEDICATED FOR USER TAEYUNGIE IDK HER BUT SHE'S SURE DAMN LUCKY 🔊🔊🔊🔊 PLEASE i was so happy when you decided to make this set in the end 🥺🥺🥺 i belive i already screamed lots under the set in the tags but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's amazing beautiful just gorgeous from head to toe (a gif i mean cuz clearly we cannot see his toes SKSJSJSKSJSK) A M A Z I N G coloring, veey warm very soft he just looks like a carmel with raspberry on top (WHY DO I USE SO MANY FOOD REFERENCES SKJSJSKS I'M NOT HUNGRY I SWEAR) BUT NO, FOR REAL. he just looks so cozy here and i wanna hug him so much 😔😔😔 long story short my mind and stomach perform pirouettes because i'm head over heels for this man. AGAIN THANK YOU SM BABY FOR DEDICATING THIS ONE FOR ME ❤️❤️❤️

we're here, we survived till the 10th and at the same time last gifset of this post, TIME TO POP THE CHAMPAGNE ✨ and scream a little but more because HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL I'M LITERALLY FEELING MYSELF EVAPORATING SJSJKSKSKS the contrast here is darker than usual AND I'M LOVING IT it's bringing all his best features also he just looks like a glazed donut which kinda makes me cry (WAIT I JUST REALIZED I AGAIN DID A GOOD REFERENCE SKJSJS WTF) BUT HIS GLOW 😭 HIS GLOW 😭😭✨ just amazing, it's inappropriate how much i spent staring at this set KSJSJSKSK

when i tell you that writing this one took me like... two hours. but it was totally worth it and purely out of love for your stuff. anyway, i deserve a kiss on the forehead 😌

creators send me 🎨 & I’ll tell you my favorite of your last ten creations and why

#answered #ask game

2 notes · View notes

cupsofsuga · 6 years ago

Text

HEART TO HEART ━ YANDERE BTS REACTION*:･。.

{⚠️} WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers. I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

{💐} ANON ASKED - “How would the Yandere boys react to Y/N be accepting to their Yandere self. Like she wouldn’t be mad at them and just be okay with it.”

KIM SEOKJIN

━━━ You imagine yourself as a ballet dancer, twirling for thousands to watch in awe. You imagine yourself at a ball, waiting for your prince/princess to swoop in and turn the night into a starlit memory. On this late September evening, you dance under dead stars, resembling a cherubic swan with a curse running through its veins. Bare feet against cold grass was blissful dancing under the spotlight of the moon, adding on to the purity of this evening. There’s glitter on your eyelids and a locket draped over your neck, cursive poetry that runs along your skin and cherry wine that stains your lips. And just for this night, Jin can feel gardens bloom within his chest. You are in every means an angel.

“This ring is stunning! I couldn’t imagine a better promise”. Laughter tumbles from your lips and if Jin could record the sound and keep the tape nestled in his heart, he would. This epiphany overjoyed him for what feels like the first time in existence. You continue dancing to whatever song played in the stereo inside your head as Jin watches and marvels for. For so, so long, his heart was only fragments of dust buried deep in his chest, but now that the moon can shine on the embers of your love, Jin can feel every ounce of pain dissolve into the dirt underneath him, only to rot 6 feet under, just like it deserves. From now until he dies, he can be purified by your illuminated presence.

“Y/N, please promise me you’ll never take this ring off until we replace them with wedding rings… Promise me, love. Please…”

MIN YOONGI

━━━ Tossed and turned within sheets, you ponder over yesterday’s events as the September sun rises. The faint scatterings of tears are still stained on your shoulder and the scent of apple orchards still sticks to your form. You are alone currently, no Yoongi to awake you wearing that adoring smile, but, then again, the loneliness of the bedroom is tranquil. Why must isolation feel so euphoric? That must stay as a question for another day as you crawl out of bed, beginning your search for your lover.

The echo of the clattering of pots and pans fill your ears as you enter the kitchen through the archway. You find Yoongi, surrounded by multiple batches of sweets wearing oven mitts stitched with flowers. He hears your footsteps, looking up to you with the deep-rooted, intimate smile which you’ve grown quite used to. It was reserved for your eyes only, after all. You’ve turned the boy soft, which he learned to embrace in the early stages of his infatuation. You see, as much as Yoongi hardened his heart so much it reminisces a brick, you enter his tunnel of vision turning all of his progress to sweet strawberry jam. You turn the bitterness of dusk into the luminescence of dawn, all with a simple smile you give him. You have now turned days holy for Yoongi.

“My Y/N! You’re awake! I made you all sorts of treats! Cherry pies to brownies, whatever you’d like, my love! I wanted to say thank you for accepting me for who I am... I love you... B-But, if you’d like, I-I can scrap everything and start new! R-Really, I can start baking whatever you want, Aether/Aphrodite…”

JUNG HOSEOK

━━━ The room seems to curl in on itself to where you can only inhale the bitterness of broken sobs and tears. It’s quiet, so, so quiet your brain can barely even fathom the horrid meaning behind the silence. You let Hoseok cling onto your form, letting him cry and beg, letting him simply embrace the unholy feelings within his chest. Tears echo liquid sunsets as they fall down his face. So melancholically beautiful, you think to yourself. He pours out his insecurities and sorrows like whiskey into a glass as you’re there to sit and listen, watch as the boy crumbles right before you. You give him unconditional support and reassurance which clears the smoky air into rays of sunbeams.

Checking in on Hoseok the next day, you find the inquisitively cheerful boy setting up to what appears to be a fort. Fairy lights and fluffy blankets (which are his favorite) coat the living room, the silent chitter-chatter of Cartoon Network characters echoing from within the fort. You watch him as he lives in his own moment for a minute before declaring your presence, cooing at the way Hoseok squeaks and jumps, right before smiling with the light of a million suns and racing to embrace your form. He keeps you at arm's length after the long lasting hug, taking the sweet moment to admire the human before him in all of their glory. Hoseok looks into your eyes like you had gifted him the stars and he has eternity to go stargazing. Hoseok looks at you like you're a human incarnation of heaven itself, and nothing feels purer than seeing the love of his life right before his very eyes

“I-I wasn’t quite finished, but, d-d-do you like it? I spent all night on it! I went to the store and picked out some snacks and… h-horror films, because I know you like those. Yes, they scare me, but I-I’ll be alright! As long as you’re right beside me… Oh! I also found some whiskey in the basement! Not sure if it’s any good, but, I can always go get some more! Anything for you, my light…”

KIM NAMJOON

━━━ Lying in the window seat, enfolded by blankets and Donna Tartt in your hands, you let your mind walk away from the words of The Goldfinch and to wander over the events from earlier that morning. The words of self-doubt were poisoned and the embrace shared afterward was bittersweet. Namjoon's eyes were tainted with fear and his hands begged for your touch. Skin to skin, heart to heart, you hear words turn to cries in a matter of minutes. You let the vulnerable man shake in your arms and hours later, you’re now alone.

Movement from the archway sparks your attention, finding your lover there with a questionable glimmer of ecstasy within his eyes. Namjoon’s cheeks are still rosy and stained with tears from moments before, but his eyes read otherwise. He’s wearing a smile of sheer infatuation as he steps closer, sitting close enough for your hands to touch. Now, you have a clear vision of his eyes. They’re submerged in sunlight, stained with sunbeams as they stare at you. Two sheets of paper are in his hands, right before he whispers with the delicacy of a fawn, “we’re going to Paris”. Your heart picks up speed, reading the tickets word-for-word to receive some sort of confirmation this wasn’t some sort of sick joke. You cheer with excitement, throwing the man into your arms as you squeal. You thank him over and over again, watching as Namjoon marvels over your happiness. God, does he love you…

“I-I wanted to say thank you… For everything, you’ve done for me. I cannot find words to thank you enough, Y/N, so… Take this… What better place would there be for us to visit other than the city of love? Only for you, my angel..."

PARK JIMIN

━━━ Insecurities tumble from Jimin’s mouth as he sits in dusk. The man was worried if he was the sun chasing the moon, waves chasing the tide only to be pulled back, but you reassured him in that sugary sweet voice that sounds like grass rustling under the sun that those were only ugly thoughts, that they are only false. And the way you speak sounds like lullabies as you shush him and tell him you love him. His eyes have dried and his heart is no longer heavy. Dusk turns to dawn and the rainstorms have cleared. Jimin is finally the calm ocean he prayed to be. Jimin is finally himself with no judgment.

Dawn awakens, you are embraced by expensive sheets. The sunbeams kiss your skin as you’re left to wonder, where is Jimin? Every single morning he is cuddled right by your side, desperate for another inch of your skin on his. Waking up alone was more than peculiar, hence why you’ve walked out of the bedroom when you normally sleep in for much, much longer. You find the petite man in the kitchen, seemingly deep in thought as he crowds a plethora of shopping bags, all with Gucci and Chanel logos plastered on their front. You speak his name, watching him nearly snap his neck once he hears your voice. Before another second passes, you’re engulfed into an embrace, one that doesn’t need words to say “I love you more than you’ll ever know."

“Oh, Y/N… God, I love you so much… You’re so lovely and warm and completely and utterly perfect!!! My heart can’t function with you around! I love you so, so, so, so much!! Please never stop loving me…”

KIM TAEHYUNG

━━━ With perfect harmony, perfection, and precision, Taehyung has nearly covered the once white canvas with an assortment of colors. Your cherubic face is drowned with shades of black, blue and red which all blend in one harmonious manner. The illusions and manipulations of specific colors bring out the luminescence of your eyes and the delicacy of your skin. He steps back to admire his work of art and sighs, hopefully, this will be enough to express his utter infatuation and make you accept his confession. You’ve written a letter back to him, expressing your admiration for his devotion and artwork, so you must accept him now, right?

You wait on the bench next to the Art Gallery, shown in the polaroid inside the envelope you received, waiting for his arrival. Your mind seems to reel back to previous events, fingertips tracing over the tears fallen on the written letter in your hands and the vibrant red ink which emphasizes the emotion taken place in Taehyung’s constant state of pain without you at his side. You don’t know the face of the man, only the emotions. You hear the quiet pace of footsteps and feel your heart quicken. The man who held an undying infatuation with you stands just behind you. Eventually, you turn, letting his features drown in your eyes. And, God, you’ve never seen a man that happy.

“Hello, my love... I-I had a plan for what I was going to say to you, but, it seems as if words have failed me as of now. Because of that matter, I decided to give you something. A-And I know this must be new to you and all well frightening, but I can assure you, my intentions are only pure… I love you with my whole heart, darling… Now, please join me...”

JEON JUNGKOOK

━━━ In the parking lot of the school, the kids' chatter has simmered down and the bells have quit ringing. Class was in session, but you and Jungkook have chosen to spend the hour on the hood of your car. September winds and the last few sunbeams of Summer embrace the boy as tears fall down his cheeks. Jungkook cries and alas you can see the bruises and cracks that stain his soul. He expresses his anger, guilt, confusion, self-blame and lies them on a silver platter for you to digest, which you respond with unconditional support all whilst Jungkook is left to wonder in an infatuating harmony. God, where have you been all this time?

The scent of baked goods and lavender fill your nose, calming you from your high heart rate. Walking into Jungkook’s house in the suburbs after seeing what secrets lie under the floorboards was frightening, but, you quickly shake yourself out of the state of fearful unconsciousness and remind yourself that your friend is vulnerable and needs you at this moment. With shaky hands and hushed sniffles, Jungkook leads you up the staircase and through his bedroom door, which was coated with rusted paint. His bedroom is like no other teenage boys. Piles of laundry scattered here and there, messy bedsheets, and what’s this? In the corner lies a few scented candles surrounded by what appears to be your face. Your picture is accompanied by a plethora of items you can’t find the meaning for. Pencils, rings, gum wrappers. What was the meaning behind this?

“I-I know this might be a lot to take in, but, these are all lost items of yours! There’s a bobby pin here, chewed pencil there and, my personal favorite, a flannel of yours that you left here…! I wish I could’ve shown you this sooner, but, I just love you so much and I-I-I get so nervous and-… I just love you, Y/N… So, so much…”

374 notes · View notes

elizascarlet · 5 years ago

Text

Part I- Spring

“Happy Easter!” Anne gave her bosom friend a hug, sitting down beside her in class.

“To you too!” Diana returned.

Anne brandished a posy of wildflowers, giggling. “For your table, Madame.”

“Oh Anne,” Diana breathed. “The trilliums are blooming! I do wish I could go with you to pick more of them, but Mother wants me to come home right after school. We’re going to Carmody tonight to spend it with my cousins.”

Anne’s countenance fell. “You mean, you’re not coming to Easter dinner?”

Diana glanced around and lowered her voice. “No. And you should’ve heard the things Father said. It made me so angry I had to go to my room to scream into my pillow.”

“They won’t allow you to come?”

“No.” Diana sounded so dejected.

“I want this Easter to be perfect for Mary. She’s made Sebastian so happy! I just wish you could make it.”

Diana squeezed Anne’s hand. “Perhaps next year things will be different.”

Miss Stacy called the class to attention and their conversation ended.

Easter morning dawned bright and clear, with the crow of a rooster and the lowing of milk cows. The Snow Queen finally sprang forth her blossoms, showering Anne’s gable room full of starry white petals.

“Happy Easter to you, dear Snow Queen!” Anne called out her window, finishing tying her braids.

Down below she noticed a horse trotting up the drive. It was Gilbert Blythe. Anne took a quiet moment to really assess her rival. He was really quite handsome, having left boyhood behind, and looked all manly at the moment astride his horse.

Gilbert dismounted, and, noticing Anne in her window, waved. Ashamed at being caught, Anne drew back and slammed her window closed.

As she made her way down the stairs she could hear Gilbert’s voice.

“I’m here to retrieve whatever foodstuffs you are providing for Easter dinner.”

Marilla answered him back. “The shepherd’s pie isn’t quite done, so we’ll bring it along when we come over later. Anne,” Marilla said, spotting the latter as she entered the kitchen. “Will you fetch that pie I made last night? And a few of those fruit preserves, please.”

Anne did as she was bid, and quick as naught, had an old sturdy basket filled with food looped over Gilbert’s arm.

“We’ll be over there after church. Now get, get, or you’ll be late!” Marilla shooed Gilbert out the door goodnaturedly. “Are you ready for church, Anne?”

Anne twirled, showing off the new dress Marilla had made her. It was green-- a dark green like an evergreen tree-- with accents of gingham at the wrist, hem, and yoke. “I love it, Marilla.”

“I’m glad.” Marilla sighed, glancing out the window. “There’s Matthew with the buggy now. Let me pull the shepherd’s pie out of the oven and we’ll be off.” Marilla set the dish on the warm stove, covering it with a cloth. “There, that will keep it warm until we return.”

“Is it alright if I go over early to help Mary?” Anne asked.

“After church, mind you. Now grab your coat and let’s be off.”

Anne walked with Gilbert to his home. “Lovely service. I’m sad that Bash and Mary couldn’t make it.”

Gilbert glanced aside at her. “You know that it’s just an excuse, right?”

Anne raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “I remember that first Sunday. I thought the minister would die from apoplexy there on the spot! I think it so shameful that some folks discriminate. And especially a minister who preaches we’re all equal in God’s eyes! Being banned from the church just because the color of their skin... Oh and don’t get me started on Diana’s parents.”

“They sent a note declining Mary’s invitation.” Gilbert added, glowering and shaking his head. “Within all the flourishing and fancy language, it wasn’t hard to detect the real reason. We all know they won’t come because Bash and Mary are black. It’s disgusting.”

Together they trudged through the mud in the path. A silence fell on the pair, but while in the past it would have made Anne uncomfortable, right now she felt at ease. Was their rivalry truly at an end? Could they perhaps, be friends?

Somehow, that word wasn’t adequate enough to describe her relationship with Gilbert. Her and Diana were friends , and her and Ruby were friends as well in a similar way. Same with Cole and Aunt Jo. Kindred Spirits and friends all rolled into one.

She and Gilbert were friends not in that way. They were different but she couldn’t put her finger at how...

Anne, frustrated at how the right word eluded her, wasn’t watching where her footsteps were landing, and she stumbled over a hidden branch.

“Careful,” admonished Gilbert with a little laugh, catching her elbow to steady her.

“Thanks.” He let go and, strangely, Anne mourned the loss of his touch.

Soon, they made it to the Blythe-Lacroix house, which was already a-bustle with activity. Mary met them at the door.

“Gilbert Blythe! You will stay outside. I want no bad luck of yours to interfere with my cooking, you hear me? You take one step inside this kitchen and your curse will rain down and ruin all my hard work. You can clean yourself up in the barn and enter in through the other door.”

“Aye aye ma’am.” Gilbert gave a goofy salute and headed off round the back.

Anne smiled at Mary. “Would you like some help?”

“I believe I’m all about finished, but thank you for your offer. Maybe you could set the table? There’s Marilla and Matthew now. Oh! And the Lyndes right behind them.”

Soon they were all gathered together, and Sebastian said Grace.

Mary cleared her throat. “Thank you all for coming. You’ve made my heart good. It’s so nice to cook for a large gathering again.”

“Thank you for having us, Mary.” Marilla smiled over her glass.

“What did you put in your chicken Mary? It is absolutely scrumptious and divine.” Anne sighed, in raptures over the blend of spices on her tongue.

“Let’s see, paprika, cumin, tarragon, pepper, and a hint of lemon. I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? It’s the best chicken I’ve ever tasted!” Anne caught sight of Marilla and hastily amended her statement. “After Marilla’s, of course.”

“Yes, Marilla’s fried chicken is always wonderful,” Rachel Lynde chimed in. “But your chicken, Mary, well, has an… unusual taste, that’s for sure.”

Anne glared at Mrs. Lynde, annoyed.

While the adults changed the subject and chattered about someone’s new cow or other, Gilbert nudged her arm. “Here, you can have more of mine.” He said quietly, gesturing to his plate.

Anne turned the glare on him. “Why? Do you not like it either?” She snarled.

Gilbert raised his hands to ward off her ire. “Relax, Anne. I enjoy Mary’s cooking just swell. But since I’m full and still have some left, perhaps you’d like to finish it, since you seem to like it so much.”

Anne felt chagrined, as though he’d just chastised her. “Sorry. Yes, thank you.”

Gilbert slid what was left of his piece of chicken onto her plate.

Anne quickly bit into it, half moaning at the taste. Finished too fast for her liking, another piece found it’s way into her mouth. This time, she caught Matthew’s eye over the table. He warily shook his head, reaching up and flipping his nose with his index finger, sublty pointing in Mrs. Lynde’s direction

Anne, confused, looked over at the woman.

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Lynde gasped, her hand clasped to her chest, her eyes large with scandal. “I cannot believe such a thing.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Anne. She swallowed quickly, utterly baffled.

“Anne Shirley Cuthbert! I thought you knew better than that!” Marilla admonished, adding her two bits.

“What? It’s just chicken.”

“Yes, but to eat after Gilbert has already partaken of it is such a shameful thing. And you, young man,” She added, turning to Anne’s companion. “You ought to know better as well.”

Anne rose to his defense in indignation. “He offered because I enjoyed Mary’s chicken so much, nothing more. And besides, Matthew shares his food with me all the time. How is this any different?”

“Matthew is your guardian dearest, that’s understandable.” Mrs. Lynde coaxed.”But to share food with a man you’re not related to…” She shuddered, shaking her head.”How utterly shameful.”

Anne narrowed her eyes defiantly and, holding Mrs. Lynde’s gaze, took another bite of chicken.

The entire table erupted.

Mrs. Lynde and Marilla started shouting, Anne glaring while she finished her bite, then stood, hurling words back as good as she got.

Meanwhile, Matthew and Mr. Lynde exchanged looks before escaping out the door, and Mary hurriedly started cleaning up plates. Gilbert, seeing this, seized his chance to escape as well and jumped up to help Mary. Sebastian was frozen in place, his head whipping back and forth between the two opponents as though following a game of shuttlecock.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal--”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert you will not talk to your elders this way--”

“Teenagers! Didn’t I warn you Marilla that she would be nothing but trouble, her and her red hair--”

“Why are we bringing my hair into this? It’s not like I can change it! Oh wait, I already tried that!--”

“I am not discussing this further. You have behaved rather shamelessly and now--”

“If you had just listened to me, Marilla she would’ve been brought up right but no, you listened to Matthew and now look what’s happened--”

“Nothing happened! I do this all the time! I don’t see what’s shameful about it at all--”

“We’re leaving right this instance--”

“I won’t stand for it--”

“Argh! Enough, fine!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Mrs. Lynde left in a huff the door slamming shut behind her.

Marilla, cross with Anne, grabbed the girl by her shoulders and planned to march the girl straight to the buggy for an uncomfortable ride home.

Just before crossing the threshold, Anne turned back to Mary.

“I’m ever so sorry I ruined your dinner. It really was lovely.”

Mary shook her head, smiling. “Anne, it was in no way ruined. In fact, there was always a tussle or an argument anytime I held dinner at the Bog. Felt like home.”

Anne smiled and allowed Marilla to steer her outside.

As they descended the steps, they could hear Bash raise his voice. “You know better than to feed a woman off your plate. What were you thinking!?”

“I wasn’t! I was just trying to do something nice for her! I…” The rest of Gilbert's response was muffled and lost to the ears.

Anne smiled a little. At least she wasn’t the only one getting a scolding tonight, that’s for sure.

(Read the whole thing on AO3)

#shirbert #shirbert fics #gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #awae #i'm doing this differently

36 notes · View notes

mimzy-writing-online · 6 years ago

Text

Some Blind Things I (and actual blind person) Have Done

I talk all the time about what’s realistic for a blind person to do and how to write a blind character who isn’t a complete media myth of touching faces and super powers... soooo, part of that is knowing what kind of things an actual blind person (me) fucks up doing because I’m blind.

These moments include: Me sarcastically telling people I cannot see the thing they’re doing. Moments where I have zero manners. Moments where I do have manners. Making people uncomfortable because they’re staring at me. Great phrases like, “I have too much ADHD to count to eight.” and “It’s literally illegal for me to drive.” and “Wait, who are you?” “That’s not how we talk to people Mimzy.” My cats’ growing concern that I can’t see them or tell them apart but continuing to love me. Channeling my inner Toph Bei-Fong. Updates on the ongoing insomnia writing.

There’s no chronological order to them, I’m not sure there’s going to be any order to them at all, but it’s 3 am and I can’t sleep and it’s called the Late Night Writing Advice Blog for a reason.

(I definitely did not have to double check my own blog title while typing that, definitely not)

Note: This list gets a little long, but it’s a funny read and I was up until 4:30 (this note is from a future Mimzy who’s almost finished posting this, after 1.5 hours)

Additional Note: Feel free to send anons with commentary or reblog with commentary because I would love if someone enjoyed this. Like, these are stories of my life, please appreciate them.

The Things!

-My best friend and I hang out mostly at night because of his 9-5 job, and he still lives with his parents who probably don’t like me so when we hang out we’re mostly driving around on random adventures and coffee/tea runs and late night dinners.

So it’s night, and my night vision is awful and I have to wear sunglasses anyway because what I can see is painfully bright headlights so yeah I see basically nothing.

With my best friend, I have

1. after asking him a question: “Did you nod at me and I just didn’t see it.” “I did nod.” or after waiting long enough for a response he’ll realize what he did on his own and say, “I was shaking my head no, sorry.”

2. Reaching into total darkness to touch his shoulder and touched his armpit instead.

3. Dropped something from my bag onto his messy car floor and asked him to find it for me because it all looks blurry and grey-black down there, even without sunglasses

4. Sensed he was going for a high five and I gave him a perfect high five. Surprised, he wanted to test it again. I completely missed.

5. “We’re passing the oil refinery, so enjoy hearing, touching, smelling, tasting that.” plus 3 other identical jokes on the same drive. “Hey, can you stop making blind jokes, I’m starting to hate them these days.” “When did that happen?” “When one not-great classmate slash sort of friend made them all the time.” “That’s a shame.” “Blind jokes from sighted people are also super repetitive. The only blind jokes I seem to like are from other blind people.”

6. Him: “You’re rolling your eyes behind your sunglasses, I can tell!”

7. Once we saw snow once our way driving home from Las Vegas. It was March, it was after midnight, and the warmest it had been at any point in that night was 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4.4 degrees Celsius. That’s a real comparison?? That’s a scary number to an American who’s barely ever left California. We were driving through the mountainy area of California where the temp really drops and for three seconds we saw snow in the wind. Well, he saw it. Something moved, it was small and flaky but like... that was actually snow and I couldn’t see it? (this was three, almost four years ago)

8. Last weekend we drove around the rich neighborhoods to look at Christmas decorations because I love Christmas lights because for ones light actually looks pretty instead of painful and I can see it at night without hurting, so it’s nice. I love the pretty visual things. Blindness will not take the pretty visual things from me! And the decorations just make me so happy and I wanted to do that last year but never did, so we did that this year

9. I also told him about the cripple punk tag on Tumblr last weekend and he was delighted to know it exists because he’s got other chronic health issues including downright awful knees.

Other blind things not directly involving my best friend

1. I have paused writing to ask a sighted person if it’s realistic for my sighted characters to see X item from Y distance away. Usually my dad with his stupidly perfect vision.

2. Realizing I’m forgetting what sighted people can see. It’s been four years since I saw like a normal person. And all my sighted memories are literally blurry from age.

3. But I still have dreams where I see normally. And then dreams where everything is too bright like in real life and I cannot see and what is happening???

At home, specifically

1. I have three cats who I can’t tell the difference between. I have a small black and brown tabby cat. A black and orange tortie cat who is slightly heavy but medium build. An all black cat who is huge and has the longest fur I’ve ever touched on a cat. I cannot tell the difference between them until I’m up close. Especially if the lighting bad.

2. Tonight I almost set my laptop on top of Remy, my brown and black tabby, because I didn’t see here a foot away from me, curled up next to my leg, somehow blending in with my orange and blue comforter. Her concerned look I did see and was horrified by my almost fuck up and apologized profusely for.

3. Cannot see Felix, my black cat, half the time if the lighting is bad and have almost sat on him, put my feet in his face, tripped over him, etc. because he blends into the shadows and oh my fucking god I cannot see that.

Note: Remy cuddles with me all the time. Felix adores me but will not be caught dead cuddling anyone because dignity, but if he’s in my room and nobody’s around to see he’s insistent on cuddling. Rio (black and orange tortie) is devoted to my mum, and she knows she makes me nervous when she suddenly jumps on me and I get really shifty and squirmy and not fun to cuddle with, so we’re cool and I give her pets but she doesn’t usually crawl onto me unless she wants to make my mum jealous.

4. Can sneak up on family members and friends because I move so quietly, so at least there’s that. Not a blind thing, but it makes up for some things.

5. Have walked up to someone I thought was a friend, realized I don’t know them, and the first thing out my mouth was “Wait, who are you?” and then a close friend (and the party host) grab me by the shoulders and say, “That’s not how we talk to people,” and just like, where are your manners Mimzy, wtf, but I never saw that stranger again so it’s okay.

Side Note: blindness aside, I do have a habit of just rudely speaking my mind in not-appropriate settings because I just don’t care and don’t have the anxiety to at least act like I care. They’re very satisfying, but usually very rare moments.

6. Please stop moving things around the house!

7. “What do you mean there are cobwebs?” *Shines a flashlight at the dark corners of my room* “oh my god...”

8. Me, to my family members, “Please close those curtains, light hurts. Please turn off that lamp, it’s too bright in here.” *me, later turns off most of the lights in the house* Family members: “Why is it so dark in here? I can’t see.” *Me, channeling my inner Toph Bei-Fong* “Oh no, what a tragedy!”

9. Mum is the only one who vaguely appreciates my light sensitivity because she also has snow vision (a mild case) and has a little light sensitivity, sometimes, on her bad days.

More Not Quite Appropriate Things!

There are so many things that I say only to realize that there is a very nearby stranger who heard that out of context and it sounded so bad.

1. Best Friend (while I’m walking down stairs just fine, by myself, don’t need anyone’s help, I can do it!) “There are eight steps.” “I don’t need your help.” “I know but--” “I’m fine!” “I’m just trying to help.” “I have too much ADHD to count to eight anyway!”

“I have too much ADHD to count to eight anyway,” is exactly what two strangers heard while walking right behind me.

Why would you sneak up on someone who’s so obviously blind??

2. “Sea foam green is an ugly color anyway.” I was in a mall, it was well lit and I was using my cane and managing with my crap vision, but I managed to see that specific color I hate on a dress right next to me, and the woman walking on the other side of the mannequin display heard that and did a double take on my obviously blind self.

Or so I’m told by my mom who could see what happened.

3. Similar to above, I was in the Artist Village in San Diego, which is a huge tourist trap, and I was sort of a tourist too, but it’s freaking outdoors, so I have the cane and sunglasses. And I’m in an Artist Village (very visual thing) with my parents, so out of place. And this random dude was apparently staring at me. Cannot see him, absolutely no idea which direction my mum is pointing towards, everything is blank and weird and not see-able, but I turned my head and by some miracle looked directly at him and he freaked out and looked away.

4. “Oh yeah, make fun of the blind person!” sarcastically, but loudly, somewhere public after a joke a friend had made that I was actually okay with.

5. “Driving and hiking are my two biggest weaknesses,” said out of context to people who didn’t know I was blind.

6. “I forgot you were blind.” “Well I didn’t.” More channeling of Toph, I think.

7. “Why can’t you drive?” *points to cane* *he does not get it* “It’s very illegal for me to drive.” *does not get it* “They’re blind dude,” classmate says. “Very blind.” “You seem to get around just fine,” says the man who only see me indoors with the very best lighting scenario for my vision. “Yeah, but that’s because I have the cane.” “So?” You seem just fine, he seems to think. How dumb are you? I definitely think. “Why do you need the cane?” “Because I would die if I didn’t have it. I have almost died. People would die if I tried to drive.”

8. Later: “Did he think you could just drive and use your cane to feel the road or something?” “I guess.”

9. More questions from other people who don’t know me very well asking why I can’t drive. “Because it’s illegal.” Their confusion is wondering specifically why it’s illegal rather than thinking I’m not actually blind. I explain the laws in the driving handbook, because I have read it (unlike some people I guess. How did you miss the ‘drivers must be able to see at least 20/40 with their best corrected eye” and I haven’t been in that category for two years.

Note: My day blindness came two years before my vision acuity reached visually impaired status. So, like, two years of wishing I had a cane but thinking “I’m not blind enough” and still being terrified in certain situations and risking my life walking around without one or some sighted guide.

Similar Public Things

1. I can see indoors pretty well so I get by on prescription glasses and no cane (I see 20/70 - 20/100 with glasses) but sometimes the mall is crowded and nobody gives me space and I’m just not comfortable getting so close to people, so I bust out my cane (and maybe my sunglasses too) so I look extra blind and people will give me the space to walk without running into someone.

2. Have also done that just because the indoor lights were also too bright and I need my sunglasses.

3. Have stared at my phone in public with cane/sunglasses, or tried taking photos with it, and I get so many weird looks because blind people see nothing I guess, none of us have any vision at all! (read sarcasm)

4. Walking into a coffee shop I’ve been to before and I know they change their teas all the freaking time. Also got the cane. “Hi, can you tell me what iced teas you have right now?” “Oh, they’re all on that sign.” *blank look* Do you not realize I’m blind? I’m thinking. “What kind of black tea do you have? Do you have any tropical black tea?” (because they usually do and I love tropical black tea, and they did that day too, so I ordered that.)

5. I cannot read menus. Those restaurants that have the menus above the register are awful, evil. Cannot read. In the wonderful days of my childhood I didn’t have prescription glasses for my moderately not great but still mostly functional vision (my dad has perfect vision and no concept whatsoever about what it’s like to not be able to see those things!) So imagine my parents dragging me to restaurants like that and I’m 10 years old and supposedly can read perfectly fine but I cannot read that menu and I think it’s some personal character fault of mine that I just don’t know how to read those kinds of menus, so I have to ask my mum to help me choose a food to order and eat, and then that’s the only thing I ever order any time I ever go back. So, I’m quickly getting sick of those places because I only eat one item there and I want to try something new with a restaurant with those nice hand held menus, but those are sit-down restaurants and apparently they cost more money, sooo...

6. That was a rant I went on with my best friend last weekend

Side note: It’s almost 4 am, my mum just woke up, saw the light on in my room from under the crack of my door and said hi. I’m at a point right now where she just expects it and isn’t one to judge (unlike my dad who has zero insomnia because he has hypersomnia and I don’t know how humans do that)

Side Note Ten Minutes Later: My laptop is at 10% but I plugged it in because dammit I am finishing this tonight and it will have all the things.

7. “Hey, where’s the trash can? I can’t find one.” *also mistakes a trashcan and a human being just sitting still. All the time* “Why not just litter then?” best friend asks, knowing exactly how I’ll respond. “I have manners!”

8. I hate traveling even a little by myself. My orientation and mobility skills with my cane aren’t that bad, but they’re not good enough for me to feel comfortable walking around by myself anywhere that isn’t super familiar with routes I already have practiced and memorized (school, close friend’s houses or apartments, the blocks in my neighborhood I’ve walked 500 times coming too and from school or walking dogs with my parents). Anywhere unfamiliar or wide/open or crowded or God Forbid, OUTSIDE is a source of terror and will not let my traveling companions leave me alone for longer than a few minutes and certainly not walk away on my own.

9. Will not go to bars because I present female and I am visibly disabled and that makes me look like an easy target and why would I risk that unnecessarily?

I’m gonna cut it off here. This is a long post, and I need to just finally go to bed. Goodnight. I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to send anons with commentary or reblog with commentary. I’d like to know that someone liked this.

#actually blind #cripple punk #writeblr #blindness #writing community #writeblr and actually blind both feel applicable because this is both a blog about writing and a blog about blindness #and other disability #tw ablism #blind character #why not add that tag too?#it's almost 5 GOODNIGHT

97 notes · View notes

hwalovs · 5 years ago

Text

Humanities Wings | San

Pairing; San, Reader Warnings; Mentions of gore and death, Attack on titan Au! San’s a baby boy, You’re a fat bitch oops Genre; Angst, fluff Word count; 2k Summary; San decides to drop in while you’re doing paper, taking it upon himself, he decides to bring up an event from the recent expedition.

A/n; i wrote this randomly while re-watching attack on titan edits over bts’ Not Today.

The sun from the large window behind you wasn’t casting light in as it once was, and the soldiers once in the training grounds below were inside the mess hall eating the same boring food they got everyday.

Your back and neck hurt, pains shooting down to your legs and hands cramping from the continuous paperwork Hongjoong insists you have to do as the captain. Commander Hongjoong was a great guy, the perfect person to be called Commander, truly. He had a stern gaze, did what was best for the rest of the regiment, and always knew when to call it quits while on expeditions outside the walls.

You were the captain of the Special Operations squad, a squad containing soldiers that were more talented than the others; stronger, faster, more intelligent during expeditions. Your squad was the first made, you always picked between the top two from the top ten soldiers fresh from training. It wasn't a surprise that you’d lose one or two members from your squad every expedition. Always having to add a new person or two every spring after the most major expedition in the winter. Between the 5 members on your squad, one was never killed, always making it back by your side with only a scratch or two. His name was Seonghwa, top of his class and extremely skilled in all categories.

Being said Captain of the Special Operations squad, it made you extremely important in the regiment. Being dubbed ‘Humanities Wings’ and Hongjoong’s closest friend.

The other squad leaders didn't mind not being on top, they were all ranked by talent, the lowest being Squad Wooyoung. Wooyoung and his squad focused solely on experimenting and collecting data on the titans that lurked outside the walls surrounding the cities. Above him was Squad Yunho, Yunho was a quiet, gentle giant. Being one of your close friends and always giving the best hugs, he always lost the most squad members while on expeditions, some leaving a mark on his heart more than others.

Last but not least, the man that came a close second to you, was Squad San. San was dubbed ‘Humanity's Strongest Soldier’ and with good reason, he was once a criminal in the underground city, fighting everyday to live. You were the only one that was able to beat him in hand to hand combat, which made his ego deflate just a little every time. His squad barely had any casualties, maybe once every two years. He got to choose his squad members just like you did, but got to choose from the top ten, not the top two like you.

Glancing to the top of your desk, there laid a large bulky yellow envelope. Inside contained the two patches from the fallen in your squad, you reached up and grabbed said envelope. Opening it and holding the two bloodied patches in your hand while leaning back in your chair. One belonged to a new recruit, she looked scared before the expedition, and screamed bloody murder while being chewed in half by a titan. She hesitated going to kill it, causing her own doom. The other belonged to a boy you picked a few years ago, you didn't think he’d die, you blocked off how he died in your memory.

Leaning down and opening the last drawer on your desk, you dropped the patches in, letting them lay with the other patches that already occupied the space. Sighing, you grabbed an empty sheet of paper and began writing a letter to their families, saying how they served humanity strongly and bravely.

A knock at your door took your attention away from your writing, saying a quiet and rough “Come in,” before looking back down.

The sound of the door opening echoed throughout the room, clicking of the uniforms leather boots against the floor coming closer to you before you heard them sit down in a chair in front of your desk.

“You’re going to permanently form your neck like that if you continue to sit like that,” You sighed, looking up and meeting eyes with San.

“I cant write sitting up straight like you can, you idiot. Now, what do you want? I have paperwork to sign and letters to write and send out before dinner,” You replied back, looking over his attire. The light brown cropped jacket every soldier is required to wear is nowhere to be seen, most likely propped up on the back of his office chair down the hallway. The cravat he wears around his neck blends into the crisp white shirt he wore. Contrasting deeply against his pale, yet healthy, skin. Usually after expeditions, every squad leader is assigned a mountain of paperwork, taking their attention away from social events, like meetings with their squad, and food, causing the usual glow they give off to fade into a pale color.

“Just came to check on you- after all, you are my favorite squad leader,” he says while giving you a wide smile. His pearly white teeth on display, you glared at him, lips turned down into a sneer.

“I’m your captain, higher ranking, you better remember that.”

“Oh, I remember. I just really, really, like to tease you,” he said, arm coming up to drape over the back of the chair, leg coming up to cross the other. You shook your head slightly, sighing out softly before leaning back down to continue writing.

Some days, San would bring in a book and sit down on the sofa, which was positioned along one of the walls in your office. He’d sit and read until you were ready to go eat, you always thought nothing of it. Other days he’d come in with arms full of packaged sweets and two cups of tea, exclaiming how you needed to cook off and to replenish your sweet supply so he wouldn’t have to worry about his own supply. He’d drop all the sweet on your desk abruptly, yet carefully put down the two elegantly decorated cups filled full tea. Each time he brought a cup, it would be different for you, yet the same for him, always black tea for him.

“I was worried about you this time, you know,” he broke the silence, speaking softly. The pen scratching against paper stopped suddenly, breath coming short. Never, ever did you like talking about expeditions. It was a waste of time thinking back to how your comrades died gruesomely, grieving over people who you weren’t close to. San notices when you stop, not bringing your attention back to him.

“You shouldn’t have gone after him, you know, you both couldn’t die. Seonghwa would’ve been fine-“

“He would’ve died if I didn’t do what I did, he would’ve been torn apart and devoured if I didn’t push him,” you glared hard at him, he knew he shouldn’t be talking about it, he knew that you always get harsh and close yourself off anytime he brings up a close death to young Seonghwa, you always managed to save him.

“How do you know? Maybe he was luring it so he could make a clean kill, maybe-“ you cut him off once again,

“Wooyoung checked his gear when we came back, it was broken, must have locked up when he went in for the kill. If I didn’t do what I did, he’d be dead right now. My best- my top soldier would be dead, and I cannot have that,” you stressed out, finally looking up to San. His lips pursed, looking down to the floor and grimacing slightly at how dirty it was.

“I know you did what you thought was right, but it would’ve cost you your life. Don’t you see that? The regiment would’ve lost their best soldier,” San said, his voice rising slowly as he continued. You narrowed your eyes, leaning back once more.

“And what if It did, hm? I bet you’d be damn happy if I was gone, at least you wouldn’t have to fight for my title anymore,” you sneered, voice staying level. Sans featured morphed then, eyes narrowing and mouth opening slightly while scoffing. He rose from the chair, slamming his hands down on your desk, a loud ‘bang’ resonating around the room.

“My god, (y/n), you really think this of about some damn title?! I almost had a heart attack when I saw you go after him, I almost lost you. And for the love of god, I am not fighting for your title. I think you rightfully deserve it, not me. I came in here to tell you that I was worried and I was happy you’re alive, but you’re always that bitch aren’t you? Making everything about everybody else,” he yelled, you sat in shock, San never yelled at you like this.

“Let me worry about you for once! Let me care about you because I want to, not because we’re comrades.” He stated, pushing up from your desk. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his eyes.

You felt your chest contract then, heart dropping at what he was saying. Your stomach did a few flips, taking in how his eyes were full of hurt and anger. Have you taken it too far this time?

Silence filled the office, his gaze casted to the floor. Either he was trying to find something to say, or waiting for your reply.

“You know I don’t want anybody to worry about me, not with our line of work, San” you said softly back, finally finding your words. He chuckled softly, hands finding his hips. He looked back at your, red beginning to rim his eyes. You felt a bolt of worry shoot down your body, mind blurry and feet getting cold from blood loss.

“Then I guess I should’ve found a different line of work, huh?” He sounded so hurt, so lost.

“What did you come in here for, San, really,” you spoke softly, the thought of being any louder scared you, for the first time something scared you.

“I came to talk to you, about this,” he gestured between you both, “but it seems like you don’t feel any type of way I do,” voice cracking, San takes a step back. You stand suddenly, and his eyes shoot up to yours as if you suddenly screamed out. You rounded your desk at the speed of light and wrapped your arms around his middle. You could feel his breathing stop, he didn’t move.

You and San, captain and squad leader. There were unspoken feelings from between you both, you did take note in it all, in all of his hints. From the way he glanced at you during meetings, the way he sorted the candy so that you got all the good kind. How his brows furrowed when you took it too far during training, how he seemed close to tears when he saw you get smacked out of the air like a fly on an expedition years ago. How he would be the one waking you up when you slept in, making sure you got the best looking bread and the hottest soup during meals. How he would offer to take some paperwork so you didn’t have to overwork yourself.

“You never know what another person feels, San,” you began, cheek pressed against his chest.

“I didn’t say anything since I wanted to protect us both, I didn’t-don’t-want to start anything if it means one of us will get hurt in the end,” his check collapsed with a sob, taking in your rejection hard, beginning to pull away. You quickly tighten your grip, fear lacing your veins.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything for you, because I do. I feel for you as strongly as you feel for me, but the last thing I want is for you to grieve over me,” finally he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against his chest.

“I could protect you, we could protect each other, we could make it work,” he pleaded, tear dropping from his nose to your cheek. You felt your eyes get hot, you never cried.

“I just don’t want to lose you after this,” he whispered softly, leaning his chin on top of your head.

You knew it was wrong, wanting to start something with him when the possibility of death was inevitable, but the never ending thought of having him, holding him, finally basking in the feelings you kept locked away in a cage so long, felt too good to let slip away once more.

“Okay”

A\n; oops

#ateez #ateez san #san #ateez seonghwa #ateez angst #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #hongjoong #ateez yunho #mingi #san imagines

47 notes · View notes

sciencelings-ocs · 5 years ago

Text

Gold and Silver

This is an oc fic featuring my ocs Rosalia and Artemis who are sisters, Rose has powers. Artie does not. They both work for SHIELD.

Rose was just barely used to her job at SHIELD when Hydra destroyed everything. She was happy with what she was doing. She was helping people and with all of SHEILD’s reach, she could help the people who needed her most. She had the resources to do all the research she desired and was allowed to see classified information from scientists just like her. It was a dream until it wasn’t.

She was in her lab when it happened. She was studying an Asgardian blood sample and comparing it to a human one. She should’ve been using her time more wisely… Why look at alien blood when the silent clock was counting down.

She heard the gunfire before she knew what was going on. She grabbed her emergency pistol from under her main desk, she was still a trained SHIELD agent after all. She wasn’t a field agent but she knew the basics and could defend herself if she needed to. It was something her powers wouldn’t help her with. They were useless in this kind of situation. What good was glowy healing hands when she was being shot at.

Footsteps were getting closer. There was muffled yelling beyond her walls. She didn’t have much time. There was one door, it led to the main hallway where the attackers were coming through. Her best chance was to hide.

She ran as quietly as she could to the back of the room where some mostly empty cabinets were. She hoped that she was small enough to squeeze inside. Sure, it wasn’t a good vantage point but she was on the index and they would know that she was there and that she could be a target. She didn’t want to go out fighting, there was still so much she could do. She doubted that they would take their time searching every crevice for her, she was still just a healer. It didn’t feel like that was part of Hydra’s gig.

She had just gotten into position when the main door was kicked in rather violently. There was a main man in the front who ordered the others to search the room. Rose’s heart sank. She cocked her gun in the chaos and prepared to fire and get out of there as swiftly as possible. Her chances of escaping were low. She didn’t have enough ammo to take out the whole room and she wasn’t a perfect shot. Her chances of survival were dwindling.

The footsteps were getting closer, one by one cabinet doors were being haphazardly ripped open, each getting nearer to her hiding place. She did her best to control her breathing but there was a reason that she didn’t want to be a field agent, she was not good in absolutely terrifying situations. She hated how much her hands shook on her gun. She had to keep her finger off of the trigger to prevent an accidental misfire.

She took a few deep breaths as the banging of wooden doors got nearer. Time felt like it was going so slowly, though the nearest baddie was only a few cabinets away, it felt like an eternity before they got to hers. She gently rested her finger on the trigger and let herself take a second to see who was going to be on the other side. All she saw was a familiar red badge depicting a skull on top of several tentacles and she knew exactly what was going on.

After she pulled the trigger, things seemed to get a little crazy. She slid out from her hiding place and used the man she had shot in the shoulder as a kind of human shield. She threw the poor nazi into the closest of his colleagues and shot at the Hydra agents closest to her.

It didn’t take long for them to react. The room erupted in deafening bangs and yells. Rose rolled behind a metal column and vaguely recognized a painful burning in her thigh.

“You’re not a fighter Doctor Dawn, this isn’t a fight you can win.” The main guy bellowed from behind her.

“And what do you expect me to do,” Rose hissed, “Praise the name of hydra and surrender my rights to fascist ideals?”

“Oh of course not. I just thought I’d try to make it easier. You’re coming with us, whether you’re full of holes or not. You know you’re potential has been wasted here, imagine what you could do without SHIELD’s limitations.” The man purred creepily.

“You don’t know me, I’m not going to do things just because I can. Some people have a hint of moral obligations.” Rose looked around her half of the room, she only had a few bullets left and Hydra wanted her alive, otherwise, they would’ve taken her down easily. She was astoundingly outnumbered.

“This is your last chance to give yourself up, all in one piece. You know that you have no choice, don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?”

“Self-preservation isn’t my strong suit…” Rose muttered as she placed her hand on her wound, it had stopped bleeding and was already closing. Soon, standing should be only a little bit painful rather than impossible. She just needed to keep him talking for a tiny bit longer.

“Why,” She asked, “Why do you guys want me? There are people who can cause natural disasters and turn into any material they touch. I’m just a doctor. Wouldn’t you want to use your evil resources to get them rather than waste a good team getting a defenseless healer? That is if this is a good team and not just a bunch of cowards who were given guns.”

“You underestimate your value to us. Imagine an unkillable army, soldiers who cannot be damaged by bullets, no need for armor or shields… it’s beautiful isn’t it.”

Rose laughed. She laughed as she carefully got to her feet, leaning heavily on the metal pillar shielding her.

“I can’t do that? What do you think I am? A god?”

“You could be.”

“There aren’t meant to be gods in this world. Even if it was possible, I don’t want to make an unkillable army, and if you think me a god, you can’t bend a god to you’re twisted will. I think that’s part of the whole omnipotent being bit.” Rose tested a lean on her injured leg and readied her gun.

“You won’t get the luxury of a choice.” the man said grimly.

Rose stepped out of her hiding place and pointed her gun at the main military man. Before she could let out another word, she was hit with a tiny pinprick, to small to be a bullet. She only had enough time to look at the projectile before all her strength was seeping out of her. Seemed to be an enhanced tranquilizer. She collapsed to the ground and felt a massive collar be locked around her throat before her vision completely blacked out.

Just like that, it was over. Her freedom was gone in the blink of an eye. She didn’t know if anyone would be willing or even left to attempt to save her.

***

Artemis was undercover when Hydra made their move. She had just dyed her short hair brown and curled it, painted on more freckles on her cheeks, and hidden several types of weapons in her casual clothes. It was honestly one of her favorite parts of her job. Creating a character, pretending to be someone else, blending in, she liked it more than the whole fighting part. Even if she was pretty damn good at the fighting part.

When Hydra emerged from their wretched ashes, Artemis was alone. She started the day on a mission but it didn’t take her long to realize that she was being hunted.

It started with a strange flash from a window from the apartment building across the street. Call her paranoid but she immediately left eyeshot of the window. She took out her own sniper rifle and took off the specialized scope. She used it as a kind of telescope and turned on its x-ray feature and adjustable zoom to identify if someone was after her or if she was just imagining it.

She was not imagining it. There was a person in a high window with a gun, trying their best to conceal themselves. Artemis put the scope back on her rifle and took out an acid green colored tube of lipstick, of course, it wasn’t actually lipstick. She was a spy. She uncapped it and used it to trace around the concrete on a nearby brick. There was a minute of soft sizzling before she slid out the brick as if it had just been laid.

She pointed the barrel out of the new hole in the wall and wasted no time as she aimed and fired. The loud streets dampened the sound of the bang and she replaced the brick before getting out of there before anyone had a chance to figure out that something was up.

It was on the news all day, SHIELD had fallen, they’re secrets exposed, and Hydra was back. Of course, some of that information was passed to her by an old friend but most of it was very much public.

But Artemis didn’t care about her job, her livelihood, her kill count being on display for anyone to look up on google, no. Her sister was right at the heart of it, and due to her status as a glowy super-human, she was very much in trouble, if not dead. Sure it would be stupid to not keep her alive, but Hydra wasn’t known for their mercy.

Artemis could disappear, she could get away from Hydra easily, but she wasn’t going to. Not while her sister was in their clutches.

It took a few Hydra agents but eventually, Artemis found one that knew something that she cared about. Where they were keeping the important prisoners. Their enhanced prisoners. It turned out that they had a prison boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. One heavily equipped to deal with even the Avengers. Bingo.

Artemis was ready for a rescue mission.

***

Time was odd in her cell. The lights were always on, there was always a guard outside of the glass, Roses internal clock was the only thing hinting at the time and that had always been a little unreliable. They give her food once a day, if it could be called food, and it’s time always seemed to fluctuate. Every once in a while they would try to convince her to join them. They spoke of a perfect life, of power, of wealth but she would always say no. And she would pay for it. Usually, they would fill her body with voltage or try to brand her, but she would heal before the next day. Rarely even leaving a mark. At most a gunshot would become a scar no larger than the size of a freckle.

The bulky shock collar had started to become normal. Her hair, which was normally held in a tight bun or a professional ponytail, was wild and untamed falling down her shoulders, some in front of her face. She couldn’t move it, her wrists were cuffed together, only uncuffed for meals or occasional trips to shower.

Every moment alone, she spent inside her own head. Every moment wasted in a bright blank room when she could be helping people or not being in a cell. She thought about her sister, whose whole life was uprooted at the fall of SHIELD, but Rose was sure she could handle herself, she had never known anyone more capable. Still, she was worried. Their family had been complicated, and accidentally working for the same secret organization had been the most perfect coincidence. It took a few years but they got close again, rejecting childish resentment and competition.

But Artemis wouldn’t come for her, she had never made a decision based on feelings before and was very unlikely to do so. If she came, it would take weeks at least and a well thought out attack or something of that nature.

Although since she couldn’t use her powers, they were just building up inside her. Her own healing factor had sped up just by not healing people constantly. Her power had nowhere to go after she had gotten used to using it so much during the day.

She was filled with energy that had nowhere to go. She was trapped in several ways, none of them very fun. She had to get out, no one was going to save her, they would be stupid to try.

It turned out someone was stupid enough to try. Someone so wonderfully stupid to care about her.

Against the odds, her sister was there, silently taking out a guard with ease. Her cheek was bleeding and bruised and she had the most feral look in her eyes, it was kind of scary. Artemis, who was calculating and calm at all times, who put so much thought into every decision she made, had left everything she had left to find her. Rose couldn’t help but smile.

Artemis took the shock collar remote from the guard and unlocked the cell door with a stollen key card.

“Hey Rosie, You’ve looked better…” She quipped while taking a moment to figure out which button on the remote took off the collar.

“And you’ve never looked better. I’ve never been so happy to see you come in and knock someone out.” Rose grinned.

“Yeah, yeah…” Artemis rolled her eyes and pressed a button that made the collar release a bunch of air. She gently took it off of her sister to see the deep indents that it made around her neck including the two electricity input and output spikes on each side of her throat. “Jesus… that does not look very comfortable.”

“Imagine having to sleep in it.” Rose ripped her hands from the handcuffs behind her back and gently rubbed the sore parts on her neck. Once the pressure was removed, the bruises started to heal. She raised her hand to her sister’s bloodstained face and had a record-breaking healing session. Even small wounds would take a minute or two but this time it took seconds and it was kind of mesmerizing to see the process.

“Thanks.” Artemis’ face relaxed as the pain eased.

“It’s genuinely the least I can do. I’m guessing that if you haven’t been noticed, you just got noticed so uh, can we get out of here?” Rose left the cell and took a gun from the fallen guard.

“No, I was planning on staying here forever…” Artemis grumbled. “Follow me, we have to get to the top deck.”

They almost made it up two floors before the first group of baddies came running towards them. Rose heard the frantic heavy footsteps on the metal floor before anything else and she cocked her gun. Her sister put her arm in front of her signalling for her to stop and let her deal with the problem. Rose nodded but stayed close anyway, partially because if her sister got hurt she would need to fix it and partially because she didn’t want to feel useless.

Artemis caught the group by surprise and shot the front few guys before using one of them as a shield to defend herself from the other ones. She pushed them into the chaos and rammed her knee in the crotch of the closest guy. She wasn’t superhuman like her sister but she worked hard and was pretty damn strong. She kicked the gun out the hand of the guy whose nuts she just crushed and shot the hand of the guy who was moments away from shooting her. The fight kept going like that, her being too fast to shoot at and at some point pulling out a knife.

Rose stayed out of sight and felt her blood run cold when she heard more footsteps. A lot more footsteps. They were going to get overwhelmed very soon. Even Artemis couldn’t take out so many people.

The noise in the hallway stopped, Artemis finished the fight and looked a little winded. She walked back to her sister.

“Don’t get tired yet. I heard more coming. I don’t think we can fight our way out.” She said grimly as she waved her glowing hand over the injured parts of her sister. She had taken a few heavy hits.

“How do you feel about elevators?”

***

When Artemis mentioned elevators, Rose thought about riding the actual elevator. Not climbing up the shaft with an endless drop at any slight mistake. She guessed that this was why she wasn’t a spy, it would’ve been too nice to just ride the elevator. Everything just had to be hard.

They froze every time there was a noise and spoke in frustrated hushed tones whenever they had something to say. Like how not fun climbing up an elevator shaft in a massive prison ship was.

The grumbling stopped when the elevators started to move and the elevator shaft became less of a death pit and more of a death trap. Rose had managed to get on top of one of the moving elevators and kept trying to get Artemis to come with her before it was too late. She was perched on a slight ledge far enough away from the momentarily stopping elevator that it would take a miracle to jump the gap and make it. The window of opportunity was closing fast.

“Just jump! I’ll catch you!” Rose said frantically as she reached her hand out as far as it could go.

“The fuck do you think I am? Captain America? Just go without me! I’ll catch up!”

“I can literally catch you asshole, we don’t have time for you to whine about it!” Rose hissed. Artemis wasted precious moments to roll her eyes and carefully maneuver her body to the adequate leverage to maximize her jumping range.

Then was the moment of truth. Artemis used all of her strength and flung her body at her sister as best as she could.

It was so close. For a moment, their fingers just barely touched, enough to grab at the ends. Enough to delay the inevitable for a moment.

“Go… I’ll meet you upstairs… okay?”

“No… I can get you up… just hold on…” She said desperately. Artemis was already slipping one finger at a time. Rose had to keep her other hand on the elevator, any moment it would start moving again.

“It’s okay, let me go.” Rose wouldn’t get the chance. Artemis slipped through her fingers.

Then she fell. She didn’t even scream, but Rose did. In that moment, something flickered. For the briefest of moments, in the height of pure emotion, something within Rose changed. Her eyes glowed gold, her hair defied gravity and reflected light that wasn’t there, and then it stopped. And she was left alone. She didn’t even notice the moment of glowing potential.

She was going back for her sister. The long way.

***

It didn’t take long for Rose to get caught, but that was kind of part of the plan. Kind of. She didn’t have a fully fleshed out plan but she thought she had something at least. It was kind of hard to think after what happened. Artemis could be dead… no it would take more to kill her sister. She had never known anyone more resilient and with more pure will. She was like the John Wick of spies. Someone could break both of her legs and arms and she would still find a way to stand back up and wreck shit. A stupid elevator shaft wouldn’t take her out. Hopefully.

Rose wandered around the halls. It wasn’t like there was a map of the place. She felt like she was in a daze, time was slow and blurry. Every sound felt far away… in fact… everything felt far away. She couldn’t focus. It could be the lack of food and water catching up to her but she doubted it.

She was surprised that she managed not to bump into any hydra agents, she had noticed that a bunch of the cameras in the halls had been broken or even completely ripped off. There were still bullet holes and subtle bloodstains on the walls telling her this ship used to be SHIELDs and it was part of the hydra resurgence. Right at the front lines. They didn’t have enough time to fix everything and it was unlikely that some cameras on a prison ship would be a major priority for a reborn nazi organization. They were probably still getting rid of the bodies of the SHIELD agents they murdered.

Like Artemis, sure it was a little more distantly but if hydra hadn’t emerged from the dark damp hell they came from then none of this would have happened.

The last thought made her growl audibly, which is not something she just did normally. She doesn’t usually growl like a dog. She tightly balled her fists and decided that she couldn’t just stand there to absorb what just happened, she was still in the nest of the people hunting her. She was likely moments away from being found out and captured or worse. She had to get her shit together before there was a gun to her head.

“You seem a little lost Rosie.” A deep voice came from somewhere ahead of her, it sounded like it was coming from an old intercom, it echoed eerily in the empty halls. The lights flickered a bit before blotting out sequentially, adding to the horror movie atmosphere.

“Did you really think that we’d just let you go? No… no. You’re much too useful for us.” The voice continued. Rose didn’t say anything. She followed the voice to a touchscreen lock pad in front of a metal door and she didn’t hesitate to slam her already tight fist into it. It shattered on impact and pieces of plastic and glass littered the floor.

“Well, someone’s grumpy! At least let me finish my monologue! I worked too hard on it!” The voice continued further away. Rose didn’t like being taunted. She was having a bad enough day as it was. She went to the next touchscreen pad and punched it. She just wanted the voice to stop.

“We can keep doing this but property damage won’t fix your situation.” The voice grumbled from another further away speaker.

“What do you want from me!” Rose yelled into the empty halls.

“We want everything you can give. But we are willing to negotiate. We’ll let your sister go if you surrender yourself to us.”

“I thought negotiations required both parties to agree.” She said before she fully realized what had been offered. Her sister was alive, for now. That fact was both incredibly relieving and overwhelmingly anxiety-inducing.

“That is our offer. Either she dies and we take you the hard way, or she lives and we get what we want. Simple.”

“Where is she!” Rose demanded.

“Do you accept the deal or not?”

“Yes, just let me see her, please,” Rose said desperately.

“Good choice. There are people on their way to escort you to your sister. Thanks for doing business with us.”

***

Rose was not glad to be back in cuffs and a godforsaken shock collar, but her sister was alive and would stay that way. That had to be something.

She could feel the cold metal barrels of guns at her back and neck, she was surrounded by heavily armored Hydra agents who had no qualms about handling her roughly. She tried to appear strong and defiant but she was sure that they could see her tremble. One twitch if the trigger finger and she would be dead. Probably, she didn’t quite know the limits of her healing factor and she wasn’t keen on finding out.

They turned a corner and there she was. Artemis was covered in blood and her left foot was pointing completely the wrong direction, but she was breathing and still had the sharp rage in her eyes. Right next to her was a stereotypical military man with a scar through his eyebrow and piercing his salt and pepper hairline.

“Artie! You have to let me help her.” Rose ordered at the man who she assumed had been the voice she had heard earlier.

“That wasn’t part of the deal. We let her go. That’s it. You should be thankful that we brought you to see her at all.”

“If you don’t let me heal her, you’re going to regret it.” She snarled. The man laughed, it was harsh and mocking and going on for way too long. It made Rose even angrier.

“What are you going to do? Heal my arthritis? You’re no fighter doc. She’ll be dead before you even lift a finger.” The man spat in Rose’s face, she didn’t wince and most of her energy went to keeping herself from ripping off the handcuffs and throttling the man until he turned blue. Although no one would see, a glow started to grow from the bones inside of her hands, illuminating her veins in a strange golden light.

“Underestimating me isn’t good for your health, I should know. I’m a doctor.”

“You know what, I’m sick of your attitude,” The man turned to the agents holding Artemis up, “Kill the sister. Maybe that will make this easier.” There was a click of a gun cocking before Rose reacted.

“No!” She yelled, but it was too late, the gunshot rang out and echoed among the silence and Artemis collapsed in a rapidly growing pool of blood. Rose felt like her bones were on fire, there was a blistering heat that encompassed every cell in her body. She could only hold it in for a couple seconds more. Just long enough for the man to look back at her and react in horror.

Her bones glowed like they encapsulated all the light from the sun and her eyes glowed with the same light. Her skull and veins were visible through her skin and her messy hair started to defy gravity and reflect the light coming from her skin. The supernova of rage would explode any moment, there was nothing she could do to hold it back, but she didn’t really want to hold it back.

It was like an explosion was continually off and Rose was in the center of it. There was a blast of bright golden light that blasted the hydra bastards around her to the ground. There were screams, but Rose didn’t hear them.

There’s that saying of “too much of a good thing” that could apply. Too much healing meant bone where it shouldn’t be, skin where it shouldn’t grow, holes that shouldn’t be cut off. That’s what happened to anyone in the blast zone. The agents around her had shards of bone growing together, winding and twisting as if making an intricate Celtic knot. The bone grew from ribs, skulls, femurs, any large bone grew grotesquely beyond its limits and the small connective bones grew together making a terrifying group of intertwining statues. And that was just the agents around her.

It took no effort for her to rip the handcuffs off, the shock collar was just as easy. She turned her head towards the uniformed man on the ground, trying to stumble away as his own body attacked him just by being in Roses presence.

All she could feel was rage towards this man. She was so tired of being restrained. By chains or by her own need to keep her feelings from impacting her work. She was so so tired of it. Her power was connected to her emotions and she had always had to keep them in check, but not now.

She walked steadily to the man trying to scramble away. His little rectangular glasses were broken and tilted on his nose. There was so much fear in his eyes. It made a strange scary little part of her happy.

“Just a healer, no good for fighting…” She said, her voice was different, slightly non-human sounding. As if she was speaking as some ancient god, the kind whose voice could make an entire civilization fall to their knees.

“You are right, this isn’t much of a fight.” She knelt down to look the man in the eyes. “If it was a fight, you would stand a chance.”

“Stop this!” The man yelled shakily, “I’ll do anything!” He almost sobbed.

“You will not speak,” Rose said as the skin around the man’s mouth began to close in, “You will not see.” She whispered as she made his eyelids grow together. “You will not hear.” She hissed quietly. His ears slowly grew together as she said her last words to him. “You will be lucky to be saved, but you will not know. Actually, you would be lucky to die here. I’m sure you’d never want to run into me again. You should be glad that I didn’t just kill you for what you did to my sister. If anything, be fucking grateful.”

She stood up, leaving the man on the cold ground. The room was quiet. No more screams. Only heartbeats. She didn’t kill a single person. With enough skill and time, they could all be saved. She planned to send out a distress signal, they would be found. But that was all she could ensure.

The light faded. The flaming rage began to be replaced with empty sorrow and horror. She observed the room post-rage-explosion. She had never thought she was capable of anything like this. She had never thought that she could cause such… destruction. She breathed in a shaky breath and made herself look at her sister’s body. She gasped when she saw the rise and fall of her sister’s chest. She was breathing. She was still alive.

“Artie? Artie!” Rose ran to her sister and looked over her. There was no gunshot wound. Roses blast had healed her completely. Her eyes fluttered open when her sister reached her.

“Hey… what…” Artemis wheezed, but Rose was already holding her in her arms and sobbing uncontrollably. For a while, they just held each other. Eventually, they were ready to leave.

Rose was sure that hydra agents were still crawling in the ship but they stayed away from the sisters. There must’ve been some kind of surveillance of the event. They must know what happened somehow. Rose had no idea how but she was too tired, physically and emotionally, to care.

They left the ship with no problems. They boarded Artemis’ hidden ship, perfect stealth tech that could change from a boat to a fighter jet, only big enough for three people at most if they really squeezed in.

Rose sat in the co-pilot’s seat, though she wouldn’t be any help. Her sister would be doing all the work. It was silent as they shot off into the sky and hovered above the clouds for seemingly hours. She was using the holoscreen to look at her emails and had just switched to her super-secret SHIELD account. A certain email caught her eye. Its subject line was “Job Opportunity for Former SHIELD Agents” and it was from Stark Industries. Rose smiled a little. Maybe her life wasn’t over after all.

#Rosalia Scarlett Dawn #Artemis Dawn #my OCs #marvelsona #marvelsonas #marvel oc #marvel ocs #oc writing #marvelsona fic #my writing

4 notes · View notes