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bunymart · 1 year

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💿How far we've come...💿

Hey, everyone! CEO fruitpop here, and I must say, what a wonderful first 2 months year it's been for BUNYMART! We've been online for only a little while, and we already have 6 Twitter followers, 1 non-staff Discord member, and even 1 Tumblr follower. Wow! About are progress, we managed to release a whole 13 designs on our Redbubble shop (half of which are just variants of our logo but its ok less of that this year). In this post, I just want to write a little about each of our designs, what our plans are for the coming year, and what 'buny' means to us. Also, this is the first time I've spoken through an official BUNYMART account. Hello! :) Usually it's our social media person, but if I let them write this, you'd have a headache by now.

Here's the first design we ever released. Err, first six designs we ever released. Our first six designs were just color variants of our logo, as I said before. But the colors are so pretty! I think that justifies it :) For this design, we wanted to go for a kind of supermarket logo look (duh), but we also wanted to make it uniquely buny. I'll talk more about what it means to be BUNY later, but the font we chose for the bottom is N SimSun, which is a very buny font. You also might've noticed the Wingdings on the top. Why are these here? Becuase they're extremely BUNY! And then, of course, there's the little buny in the middle, makin' a face at you. How sweet :) They look so excited!

The image I'm using here is actually the image we used for our logo sticker pack design, which we began selling a couple of weeks ago. We actually started selling these individually in May, but we BUNYMART didn't really become active until around November, which we released our second (seventh?) design.

What you are looking at now could be thought of as the herald of BUNYMART's real beginning. This design, our "Drink! 'It's good!'" sticker, was what we opened our Twitter with, and was what really kicked off BUNYMART. For this design, we wanted to make something that looked like it could be on a soda can, or on an ad for some kind of drink, or just something that said, "Relax! Have a drink! :)" The buny is also winking, because I think that makes them kind of resemble Pac-Man in some older artwork, and I like Pac-Man. Something else about this design, there was a goddamn stupid shitty stray pixel at like .0001% opacity in the bottom right corner that fucked the design up on Redbubble, but I didn't notice until it was uploaded. One thing I like about this design is that it's the first instance of the kind of digital-paint-mess pattern you can see in the background. This will return in a later design, but our next design was...

BUNY RADIO! Kind of like the last design, this one is also supposed to evoke a fun feeling. Y'know, just kinda hangin' out, havin' fun. Lots of bright/pastel colors in this one, although I guess that's been true for all of them. Something you might have noticed, although I'm sure it's very faint and subtle, is that while none of these design have strictly adhered to the aesthetic, the imagery used is somewhat reminiscent of vaporwave. Here's the thing, and again, we'll touch on this later, while 'vaporwave' and 'buny' aren't interchangeable by any means, the two terms share a lot of overlap. The logo is supposed to evoke a supermarket or mall feel, here we have a cassette radio player, etc. Something to look out for in later designs :)

We also see some Wingdings again, a staple of BUNYMART designs. While I don't have many details about it right now, I do know that Wingdings are very prevalent in BUNYLAND (the place where bunys live). Also, I'm really happy with the little music notes on the left :)

Our next set of designs were really something, and were actually part of our first sticker pack. These are the P3RS, a pretty funny play on words. It's funny because we came up with it, and we're funny :) The joke isn't entirely obvious so I'll explain: there's a pear, and a pair of cherries. Pear and pair, both pronounced the same way. And that 'air' sound is represented like this: ɛr. So, you could say that they are both pɛrs, and since ɛ kind of looks like a 3, together, they're the P3R duo!

I was VERY happy with these designs and all of their elements. The little labels/paint strokes, the shine of the leaves, the coordination of the colors, all of it. Very good design :) I actually have the cherries on my Nintendo Switch, the pear on my 3DS, the cherries again on my journal, and one of the labels somewhere else.

This is Big Head. Not much to say about them, they're just a little silly. Big olllll' thinker. Funny enough, this design was actually the first to not feature text of any kind. This is also the second design to feature a regular buny, rather than an object with a buny face.

This was actually our last design of the year. Now, you might be thinking, "What the goddamn shit? You said 13, bumble fuck!" That's right, I did say 13, and I meant it too. As I said earlier, half of our designs this year were just the individual logo color variants, and the P3RS actually served as three separate designs on the Redbubble (pear, cherry, and P3R pack). If you count them all up, there ARE 13 designs here. Take THAT.

What else happened this year?

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, we opened a Discord, a Twitter, and a Tumblr (obviously). The Discord came first, and we called it THE BUNY ZONE :) Besides our staff, there's only one person in there right now, but it would be really cool if you joined too :) I'll come back to it later, but one thing that this whole BUNYMART thing is about is building a community. After the Discord came the Twitter, where our social media person spits out a bunch of random bullshit about once a day. About a third of it is nonsense and a mess of symbols and fonts, but what's legible is pretty fun to read :) Here's a recent quote from our Twitter:

"alright……. WHOS THE 𝙁𝙐 ͶͶ¥ 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆 𝕎ℍ𝕆 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘿 ϻY 𝙇𝙀𝙁 𝙏𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙎？？！!!?!!?？!?？¡！?！¡!？！？？!？¿?！!!?？？?¿!？!?！？!?!?¿¿?!？！？？!!??(｀皿´＃)(｀皿´＃)(｀皿´＃)(｀皿´＃)"

Cool, right? I think so. And about 5 other people think so too. If you want more of that, see our about page here on Tumblr. You can find all of our links there (Twitter, Discord, etc.)

After Twitter, we opened this Tumblr account, which mainly just reblogs pictures that we find particularly buny. It's still pretty new, so there isn't much to say about it at the moment.

But that isn't all we've done this year, nonono! We also released BUNYJAMS (volume 1), our buny-themed Spotify playlist!

I'll keep this brief, since our social media person posted an announcement about this, but as a Christmas gift to you all, we released a playlist of very buny songs, which sits at roughly 3 hours and 40 minutes. That might not be very long for a Spotify playlist, but hey, we only started building it in November. A new BUNYJAMS playlist will be released every Christmas (hopefully) in the coming years, so just think about how long volume 2 will be! Here's a hint, it's already longer than volume 1!

Also, we wanted to release the cover art you see as a design before 2023, but that didn't happen. Whoops.

Now, I want to talk about the meaning of 'buny'.

What is buny?

To me, it's a little hard to describe, but I'll try my best. First, I'll talk about it strictly as an aesthetic.

As I said, buny has a lot of overlap with vaporwave, but more specifically, it shares a lot of aspects with Frutiger Aero, y2kcore (kinda), and whatever you'd call what the Wii and DS had going on (wiicore?). Even more specifically, the last one. When I think about BUNYMART, I feel like I'm clicking through Wii channels, or messing with the settings on my 3DS. It's a very specific feel that's very specific to older (but not too old) Nintendo things. It also shares some aspects with an webcore, and also dreamcore to an extent. Hopefully it will be less fuzzy as BUNYMART evolves, but for a better understanding, look at our reblogs and listen to BUNYJAMS.

Even though I've described it as an aesthetic, I like to think 'buny' can be described in a broader sense, almost just like a feeling that's evoked by specific things. One thing that comes to mind specifically for me for some reason is watering a little houseplant. Just caring for this little wonder of nature to watch it grow feels very buny to me. However, in a general sense, buny is (in a very specific way) fun, safety, and niceness.

I mentioned earlier that one of my goals with BUNYMART is to create a community. There's a reason for this. Although BUNYMART is this fun and silly thing, I'm well aware of the atrocities of life. Every day, there are things that we have to hide from, things that we have to bear, things that we have to protect ourselves from, and so on. There are these bad things, and there are bad people. Often, the 'things' that we're dealing with are people. Maybe one 'thing' today was being harassed for some reason or another. Maybe another 'thing' yesterday was something an ill-equipped parent did or said. Maybe another 'thing' was just observing people talk about so many horrible things as if they were perfectly normal and okay, when they are anything but that. I want BUNYMART to be a kind of haven to come to to be away from all of that. I want to make a safe space for people to come to and know that everyone in that space is good. To come to and know that they are safe with any person they meet. That's the kind of community I want to cultivate with BUNYMART. That's what buny is to me, and that's what I want to give to the people who happen across our little project.

So, what's next?

Well, our plans are very fluid as of right now. Obviously, a new BUNYJAMS is coming next Christmas, but at some point in the not-distant future, we want to open the BUNYMART Instagram and YouTube. We just... kinda have to come up with unique content for those platforms and ways to post consistently. We already have an idea of what we want to happen, but making it happen is pretty difficult with all of our other business things that we have to take care of. They are coming, though, don't worry.

Another thing we want to do starting this spring is release seasonal season-themed design collections. I won't give too much away right now, but for each of the four seasons, we want to do a bunch of themed works and have them as a collection. We want to try to do this for every year from now on, but we'll probably skip like a year every 2 years. Oh well.

I guess the only other thing that comes to mind is more community things once there actually is a community. I don't know what those things will be like, but I know that they will be fun :) Maybe we'll have parties? Sure.

I think that's everything I wanted to say. If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading :) I spent probably two hours on this, so I hope it was worth your time. If you want to get in touch with me, you'll probably want to message the BUNYMART account and ask for fruitpop, or check out the Discord and contact me there. I'm not logged into my own account on any of my devices, so if you message my Tumblr, I likely won't see it for a while. Sorry :( All I have left to say is thanks for reading, thanks for checking out BUNYMART, and let's all look forward to a fanTASTIC 2023 :))

Thank you.

-fruitpop

#bunymart #redbubble #pixel art #webcore #new year #how far we've come

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saint-gerard-of-arc · 3 years

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Where is the cursed blog? I'm having an existential crisis. What happened to it?

The cursed blog is exactly where I left it lmao I just don't post anymore because it was very time consuming and I couldn't focus on anything else anymore so I had to take a step back. It's not over though, it'll be back

#witchy's ask booth #I was planning to have it active again like a month ago actually but y'know things never go and planned #I was like 'I wanna finish this fanfic I know I can do it I know I can get it posted at the end of july'#WELL LOOK AT US HUH #like jesus christ is it still even worth it. I hate that I have to ask myself that #yes. yes it IS worth it I like that story and I love the cursed blog #but when the summertime blues gets in the way it's hard to pretend it's not there #and let me complain for a second. just today the temperatures are like 37 degrees and I have no air conditioning. I can barely breathe #the fan does nothing except giving me a cold in the middle of fuckin July #and if the heat wasn't enough what really kills you where I live is the dampness in the air. everything is so sticky #you can barely breathe and you get angry w everyone bc of that bc it's SO frustrating #I can't even stand up for fuck's sake everytime I risk to just. have a pressure drop and end up face down on the floor #so yeah excuse me if I can't really do anything productive the environment where I live has decided to attack me personally #today should be the last day of the heatwave so hopefully tomorrow is gonna rain down the armageddon as it's supposed to be in mid-august #hopefully I'll get some brain cells back and idk write a goddamn paragraph of my story???#I swear that fic is like holding me hostage lmao I can't do anything else before I finish it #like this is taking the piss I just want to get over w it I long for the day I'll finally post it. it'll be so liberating #and that's what untreated adhd will get you to #anyway yeah the bastard blog will be back as soon as I'll be allowed to exist this has been a psa

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ravs6709 · 3 years

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Marry Me (There's Free Desserts)- Keefex

I saw a post from @steppingonshatteredglass and immediately decided that I needed to write this. (Also, the tags from this post were fantastic)

So yeah, anyways, human au where Keefe and Dex keep proposing to each other for free desserts. Didn't quite come out as expected, but I still like it

Warnings: Food, swearing.

Enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Keefe began, his eyes gleaming. Dex already knew that he had some idea, and needed Dex's help to go through with it. "You know how we booked that reservation to that fancy restaurant, right?"

Dex nodded. "And..?"

"How do you feel about getting free desserts?"

There was no way that it was as easy as that. "And how do we do that?"

Keefe clapped his hands together. "Did you know that when a proposal happens in a restaurant, the people doing the proposing get free dessert?"

Dex just looked at him. "You want to propose to me for free desserts?"

Keefe just waved a hand. "Don't be ridiculous. If you want to do the proposing, I'm cool with it!"

"You do know that we're not dating, right?"

If Keefe had made such an offer to him a few years ago, Dex probably would have panicked, would have stuttered and blushed. He still had a crush on Keefe, but their friendship had grown, and he worried less about the possibility of being rejected (though he still had no plans on actually confessing).

Keefe shrugged. "Just a thought, y'know?

Dex rested an arm on his shoulder. "For the record, I didn't say no."

He grinned. "Great!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Dex, what are you doing?"

Dex paused and turned towards Keefe, who was standing at his room doorway. "I'm looking for the ring?"

"I feel like if we're gonna be convincing, we'll need a fancy ring. And dude, most of the jewelry you own are stuff that you made, which are kinda plain."

He crossed his arms. "I'm taking the minecraft bee earrings back," he deadpanned.

"No!" Keefe shrieked, taking a step back and cupping his ears dramatically. "These are like the best things I've ever owned, and you gifted them to me. No take backsies!"

He turned back towards his dresser. "And I have two things to say to that. First off, back off, my stuff is cool. Using stuff that we made could be sentimental, and I doubt a waiter actually cares."

"Okay, that's fair. I shall not insult your jewelry again."

"Thank you. Secondly, I'm looking for a very specific ring that I didn't make, actually."

He sorted through a few more things, until he came across a small black case. He opened it, just to confirm what was inside- a silver ring with a gem that gleamed various shades of blue.

"Ooh, that's shiny, how come I've never seen that before?" Keefe asked, suddenly standing right next to him. "I've lived with you for what, six years now?"

"I only received it kinda recently, it was the ring dad proposed to my mom with, and she gave it to me a few months ago for future use."

"Ooh, do you have any crushes? Actually- whatever, you don't need to say. I just wanna know if it fits me."

He picked up the ring and slipped it onto his ring finger. Dex noticed that it happened to fit perfectly.

"Give me your hand, I think we have the same ring size, but I wanna see!"

Before Dex could say anything, Keefe had picked up his left hand, and slid the finger on him. That, combined with the soft expression on Keefe's face, made the moment feel more romantic.

"Oh- looks like it fits." Dex had to actively make sure his voice didn't sound like a squeak. Come on, I can't go blushing like this!

"Yeah, it does. Does that mean we have everything prepared? Who's doing the proposing, me or you?"

"You can do it, probably. Should we practice the speech?"

"Nah, I think it'd be better if it was a surprise."

"Okay, got it."

•~•~•~•~•~•

They were sitting on the couch, watching some romantic drama Dex couldn't remember the name of. It was a pretty standard one- love at first sight, they grow closer, something dramatic would drive them apart (in this case, it was miscommunication and the guy's obsessive ex).

After the couple eventually got back together, there was the proposal scene.

"Better take notes, Keefe," he joked.

They continued watching, as the proposal happened, and after the "Yes!" was squealed, there was a long and passionate kiss.

Both men turned to each other, knowing that there was a problem.

"So... guess who forgot that kisses are super frequent in proposals..?" Dex asked, wincing when his voice cracked.

Seriously, what is happening right now?

"I wouldn't mind," Keefe murmured, the words so light that Dex wasn't sure if he heard it right.

"What did you say?"

Did he just say..?

"I..." He looked nervous, eyes darting everywhere except towards him. "I- I wouldn't mind if you kissed me."

There were so many things that Dex wanted to say, but he had no idea how to say it. So instead, he mustered the courage and leaned forward, planting a quick kiss. He hoped that all the words he wanted to say, all the emotions that he'd been feeling were conveyed.

Keefe smiled, then took his hand. "I'm so glad we got that figured out before we did the fake proposals."

"Oh, yeah. That would have been really confusing."

If there was anything else that needed to be said, they could discuss it later.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Go pretend to use the washroom," Keefe whispered. "I'll tell the waiter that I plan to propose."

Dex went to the washroom, and after a few minutes, he washed his hands (better be safe) and returned. They ate their dinner and chatted. Once they were nearly done, Keefe took his hand.

"Hey, Dex?"

"Yeah?"

"I really love you, you know that, right? We've known each other for twelve years, and we did kinda get off on the wrong foot because of how Wonderboy had acted at first. But I'm so glad that things changed and that I became friends with you. You're also my pranking partner, most of my best pranks only managed to happen because you were right there with me."

Keefe moved from his seat to in front of him, then began to kneel down.

"Living with you has led the some of the best memories in my life, you've shown me the love that I've always wanted. And I want to keep living with you, I want to keep loving forever, and what I'm asking is, will you marry me, and allow me to become Keefe Dizznee?"

Dex looked at him, and for a brief moment, he forgot all about the fact that this was fake and also only their first date. The words that he'd said were beautiful, and combined with the earnest expression on Keefe's face, it was absolutely awe-inspiring. If this had been a real proposal, he definitely would have accepted without any hesitation.

"Yes," he breathed, smiling with giddiness. "Yes, I'll marry you."

The kiss they shared was more of them smiling against each other than anything else, wrapped in each other's embraces.

It was only after he had pulled away that he realized that the other people in the restaurant were clapping.

The dessert that eventually came their way was sweet, and definitely worth everything it took to get to it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Keefe began, flopping onto his bed and pulling Dex down beside him. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was fun," Dex agreed. "Are you saying that we should do it again?"

He nodded. "That's exactly what I was planning to say. You can propose next time, I'm totally ready for you to astound me."

Dex knew he wasn't great with words, but he was definitely going to make sure that his engagement speech was perfect.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So, a friend told me that you proposed to Dex," Fitz's voice said through Keefe's phone (which was left on speaker). "I mean, I wasn't even aware that you two finally got together."

"I'm still calling bullsh*t on that one!" Sophie yelled, her voice somewhat distant.

"It technically did happen though. And we are in fact together," Keefe replied.

"Since when? And why didn't you tell us?" Fitz asked.

Dex was trying to suppress his laughter, but ended up failing. "Uh, we got together a few days ago," he finally said. "I can't believe it's only been a day since the proposal and you've already managed to figure it out."

Fitz sputtered. "What kind of proposal happens on the first date?"

"The kind where we scam everyone and get free desserts," Keefe answered. "It's one of my more brilliant ideas."

"Hey Fitz, can we go scam people for free food too?" Sophie asked, this time sounding a lot closer to the phone than before.

"Back off Foster, that's our idea, you're not allowed to steal it."

Fitz only sighed. "Look Sophie, even if we tried, it wouldn't work because my family is everywhere, and after the first time, nobody's gonna buy it."

Both Dex and Keefe laughed at Sophie's whine.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex had offered to buy a different engagement for Keefe, but he insisted that he used the same ring that was used the last time. (He was starting to have suspicions of something, but he wasn't quite sure if he was right yet).

Keefe had left for the restaurant washroom (a different restaurant, neither of them were stupid enough to try it again in the same place), and when the waiter came over to ask questions, Dex told them his plan.

The waiter congratulated him, then asked about what dessert they would want. After that, it was just like last time, where it felt like a normal outing, until it was time to propose.

"Hey Keefe?" Dex asked, reaching for his hand, just like Keefe had done the last time.

"Yeah?"

"I've known you for twelve years, back when I had had really bad self-esteem. After we became friends, I still haf myself convinced that everyone didn't actually like me, but like a bright light, you guided me. You helped me come out of my shell, and together, we shared some of my favourite memories."

He was up by then, moving in front of Keefe.

"I've had many doubts about my life, but loving you? I've never had any doubts, because loving you has always felt natural, and I can't ever see myself wanting to choose someone who isn't you. We've been partners for so long, and now I'm asking if you can be my partner in marriage. So Keefe, will you marry me and become Keefe Dizznee?"

He took great delight in Keefe's wide eyes, his parted lips and the flush on his face.

"I wouldn't want anything more than to marry you," Keefe said with a smile.

Dex had a feeling that they would be doing this quite often, but he had no problems with that.

•~•~•~•~•~•

They continued to do their fake proposals. Even after they did it over a dozen times, they still didn't get caught.

"Hey Keefe?" Dex asked, during the middle of one of their cuddling sessions.

"What is it?" Keefe asked, rolling around to face him.

"So when it comes to an actual proposal, do you want me to be the one proposing to you?"

He had his suspicions- Keefe had an attachment to the engagement ring (he remembered Keefe's eagerness to wear it when he first saw it), how Keefe was going to become a Dizznee, and each time Dex proposed to him, he always looked awestruck.

"You do it," Keefe replied, confirming what Dex had thought. "Also, don't tell me beforehand, I want it to be a surprise."

"But-"

"It'll feel even more real, because now I won't know which one's the fake one. You can always tell me afterward if it was meant to be the real one. Okay?"

"Okay."

•~•~•~•~•~•

For the most part, their engagement speeches for each of the proposals had been mostly similar. They were never the same, but the general idea had been the same. So if Dex wanted to actually propose, he wanted to make sure that this time, it was something special.

He paced back and forth in his room, hoping that his footsteps weren't loud enough for Keefe to hear.

I've done this so many times, I don't need to be this nervous!

At this point, it was going to be obvious that it was real.

Deep breaths. Think about how casual your relationship has been. It'll be fine.

In the past, he might not have been as willing to believe his words as he was now. He trusted Keefe, and he trusted himself to make sure that everything went right.

Something special... something special doesn't always mean something fancy...

That thought calmed him down even more. They then went to the restaurant and ate, just like always.

The waiter looked confused, eyes darting between the two of them on multiple occasions. Before Dex could ask about it, the waiter asked to take their orders, and then he forgot all about it.

It began to feel just like their usual routine again, where they ate and just spoke about whatever they felt like doing.

"Y'know, sometimes," Dex began. "I think a lot about how we've come together. We became friends over teasing Sophie and Fitz, along with pranking. We just came together, and it was natural, and my feelings came just as casually.

"Even us getting together, it just happened. Sure, it took something that got us to actually say something, but neither of us actually worried about it. All these dinner dates, it's just like how we've always been. We've come so far together, and I'd like to ask if you'd continue this path with me. Will you marry me?" Then, he dropped his voice to a low whisper. "There's free desserts."

Just like always, there was a soft smile on Keefe's face, his eyes wide and face flushed, always glad to be able to hear that.

"Of course," Keefe replied. "I've chosen to be with you this far, and that's the way it'll continue." Then he grinned, before whispering, "Though the free desserts definitely help a lot."

Dex laughed as he put the ring on Keefe's finger, and Dex wasn't sure if it was just the lighting, but the ring seemed to he shining more than usual.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"That's the actual proposal, right?" Keefe asked during one of their cuddling sessions. "It felt a little different."

"Yeah, it was."

He took a hold of Keefe's left hand, relishing its warmth as light thumps of Keefe's heartbeat lulled him to sleep.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It probably would have been assumed that after they got married, they would have stopped with their fake proposals- but they didn't do that. They continued on and on, until they began to run out of places to go without the risk of repeating restaurants (they actually did manage to get exposed once, somehow, so they had no intention of doing that again).

Dex smiled as he fed Keefe a piece of the dessert, feeling glad that everything turned out that way.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Kotlc taglist- @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the taglist? Just let me know!

#dex dizznee #keefe sencen #keefex #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction #fanfiction #ravi writes a thing

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

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What would be your OCs ideal "meet-cute"? Like how did they plan to meet their darling in a way that would attract them to the boys? Or did it happen by pure coincidence?

love the ask! Prepare for chaos cause I like seeing them struggle

Also omg you gave a request Im so happy I think you're so cool and i like seeing you on my notifications so please like and request more stuff if you want to ahhhh💖-

This story contains: talk of stalking, yandere behavior, talk of sex (sorry it's prince...sex is always on his mind)

Theodore

Oh he's smart

He knows exactly how he wants to set up

He first saw you in your favorite bakery and from then on it was a done deal

His five years of stalking you has paid off

He knows almost everything at this point

He wanted it to be romantic and something out of a romance movie

But- he's still a bit of a dummy at times and it didn't go exactly how he wanted it to

He's played this out in his head about 100 times, he has done everything he has to in order to get everything to work out in his favor, so why did this have to happen?

His plan was to walk in ten minutes before you did at the bakery, he would pretend to be unsure of what to get then once you walk in he waits exactly two minutes before asking what exactly you would get sounding as lost and clueless as possible

out of the kindness in your heart you will respond and he will charm his way to getting your number, even though he already has it. That was the plan but you never did show up to the bakery so he panicked and went to your house to look for you

Were you kidnapped? Sick? What was going on?! He has rushed to your place now right infront of the door only for it to swing open and for you to crash into him falling ontop of him, okay?

You were frazzled and flustered, you must have woken up late. He looked at you and felt his cheeks turning red as you scrambled up and he picked up his glasses

"i-im so sorry! I just crashed into you i didnt see you"

This wasn't exactly how he expected it but he can use this, sure it wasn't the same but it was alright he can work with this.

"ah, it's quite alright. Though I'm sorry to say but my ankle isn't doing so well"

"holy shit, I'm sorry! So you need help?!"

You helped him up and as theodore leaned on you slightly he shuddered at the scent of you, absolutely delicious.

"sorry, I'm so rude I'm theodore"

"I'm the rude one here, it's [y/n]. do you live around here or something? I feel responsible so let me help by getting you home"

Theodore smiled and adjusted his glasses as he faked the pain in his ankle, it was a little embarrassing having to pretend to be pathetic but his first plan flew out the window and this was all he had left

"live just down the road, thank you for such kindness"

He smiled and knew that he wormed his way into your life, sure it wasn't how he wanted but he was in no rush.

Hikaru

He has to be careful

He's famous after all

He has an image to maintain so he can't be all creepy and stalk you

He pays people to do that

He first saw you at one of his photoshoot sites and he just couldn't help but fall

He really honestly just wants to walk up to you and say hi

But a crowd of people would be on him I minutes so maybe not

He decided to wear a hat and mask

He honestly is so self centered he just wanted to say hi and expected you to swoon

Hikaru adjusted the mask now walking into the book store where he saw you walk into just moments before, plan was to casually find you and bump into you before revealing himself and next thing you know you are jumping into his arms!

So he did just that, walked into the book store, saw you and "accidentally" bumped into you causing the book in your hand to fall

"oh I'm sorry, how clumsy of me"

"no no it's fine! Accidents happen y'know?"

Hikaru smirks before pulling down his mask while picking up the book, his eyes shining with a charming gaze as he looked at you

"how about I make it up to you with some yummy food"

"oh! You're that model from the magazines!"

Yeah baby now come jump into-

"that's sweet but I'm good it's truly fine"

Excuse me bitch?

Hikaru felt his body twitch now fighting the urge to turn his charming grin into a harsh scowl, what the actual hell!? Do you not see how hot he is?! God why the fuck did he fall in love with such a dumbass?!

"o-oh well, how about I pay for your book? I like this book as well so it's only fair"

"you like 'elmo goes to wonderland?'"

Hikaru twitched once more as he glanced down at the book you had dropped and felt his eye twitch with annoyance, why were you buying this?!

"it's for my friend's sister if you were wondering, if you're still up for it let's have that food I want some red bean buns!"

Okay..so that worked?!

Hikaru didn't understand why him being a total idiot wooed you but okay?!

"names [y/n] by the way, I'll let my friend know that you love elmo I'm sure she has more books for you"

Your joke wasn't funny and hikaru now wanted to kiss and strangle you at the same damn time. He feels so embarrassed but at the same time happy.....but the real thing he's thinking is why the hell did I fall for this idiot?!

Prince

Okay so he really just wanted to get into your pants

Like really wanted to get in there

Until he started to stalk you and saw how you acted

That's when he fell for you

He has no idea how to court anyone so he has no idea what the hell to do

This was a whole different game that he didn't know how to play

You were different than the strippers and party loving people he hangs with

You two met out of pure fate

Your friends were forcing you to go out for your birthday to a bar

The bar he worked at

His heart was about to burst

He wanted to say hi soooo bad but your friends were flirting with him hard

He figured if he got them drunk they will pass out

So he did exactly that while leaving you tipsy

He's been bartending for a while so he knows how to do this kinda stuff

Once he strikes up a conversation with you he's so happy

"so, you don't exactly look like one of my normal customers"

"what exactly does your normal customers look like?"

Prince grinned at you as he fixed you another drink before placing it infront of you, giving you a sly wink

"nothing like you doll face, you're too cute and I've never seen your face trust me I would remember a face like yours"

He prayed to God his flirting works cause that's the only trick he's got. He watched you laugh as you took a sip of your drink and he knew he wanted to marry you on the spot

"smooth, but you'll have to try a little harder than that"

"alright well, what's your name?"

"[y/n], why whose askin?"

Prince flashed a huge grin as he leaned down his arms rested against the bar as he eyed you up and down.

"prince is the name, so ever wanted to get behind a bar before?"

"won't you get into trouble for that?"

"I won't tell if you won't"

Sexual tension was HIGH

Prince was ready!

then..you fell asleep

Damn it he got you too drunk, with a long sigh he leaned back now feeling the biggest blue balls in his entire life, he decided it was time to take you home so he did exactly that.

Getting into your place was far too easy and he reminded himself that when you two stsrt dating he has to tighten security around here, he laid you in the bed before placing a soft kiss onto your cheek and leaving but not before writing his phone number and name on a napkin and placing it on your nightstand

Axis

Okay so I've talked about how dumb axis is

But he is like...reallllyyyyy dumb

Poor boy was so excited when he first met you before falling in love

He met you at an art store

He needed help on picking the right color and you popped up

Your voice made him giggle and your smell made him drool

He was in LOVE!

He wanted to meet you again

So he showed up at that art shop every single day listening for your voice and hoping to smell that amazing scent

After six months of actively going he almost given up..until

"excuse me, where are the paint buckets?"

"oh! Right this way!"

Axis perked up as he heard footsteps and the soft scent filling his nose, you! It was you! It had to be you! You were here!

He slowly followed your scent hearing you talk to the worker before hearing the worker's footsteps vanish, he was panicked! Did he look okay?! Did his eyes look weird?! He made sure to wear his sunglasses but they weren't all too tinted..what if you see his weird fish eyes!

All this panicking made him start to shake and he soon heard a voice break him out of it

"excuse me, are you okay?"

He tensed up and snapped his attention onto that voice, that angel of a voice. That voice that could make him do anything it could ever want, you were infront of him and he loved it

"y-yeah! Sorry! I'm just panicking cause I don't know which paint to buy, being blind has its limits haha"

"oh, well I can help if you need?"

He gave an excited nod and you did exactly that just like you did six months ago, it was magical

"what do you need paint for?"

"oh I just moved into a new place"

You moved? He didn't know that, he doesn't know anything about you, he wants to know everything

"oh, well I'm an artist haha, weird yeah?"

"well I don't think it's that weird, it's actually really impressive"

Dontcrydontcrydontcry-

Axis held in every tear he could as he decided to ask the age old question, the question he wanted to know for six months

"what's your name?"

"oh! Sorry! It's [y/n]"

What a pretty name, a name he wanted to now write over and over again, when you asked his name he of course gave it to you before throwing an opportunity out there hoping you take it

"if you ever need help painting your house, I can help out trust me I'm awesome with a brush!"

"I would actually like that, when are you free?"

"now."

That's how he ended up in your home, and into your life.

Yuki

He literally just walked up and said hi

That's it

He saw you and was like "oh okay let's do this now"

He has no grace he doesn't usually plan things out he just goes and see how it works out

As a person who is a mute 80% of the time talking with you was a little awkward.

He gave off a lost puppy type vibe

Yuki usually would never come to an arcade, but he wanted to win the giant stuffed cat that they had at the prize booth it was so big that they simply had a picture of it..it would make a wonderful place to sleep on

It costed so many tickets though so he had put his entire paycheck into that card to hopefully win as much tickets as he could. That's when he met you, you were absolutely killing it on one of the zombie games and honestly it looked super cool

He walked up to the machine before swiping his card and picking up the player two gun, without a single word he started to play as well. The silence was awkward for sure but it was you who broke it

"wow you are actually pretty good, you play a lot?"

"nope."

His short one word answer made you think that he wasn't really wanting to talk so you were about to leave when he simply swiped his card in the player one slot before handing you the gun once more, with a grin you stepped back up and continued to play

You would ask him questions and get one word responses back or even just sounds filled with emotions, you quickly realized that he just was a man of few words

Yuki had been swiping his card for the both of you so when the time came that he was tapped out a look of shock filled him, he was about to go out more money in but it seemed like the store was closing

"well, I better g-"

You were cut off with him grabbing your hand and pulling you to the prize counter. You followed as he gave the worker the card and got exactly what he wanted...the softest, warmest, biggest plushie ever!

As he hugged it close he watched your eyes soften at the sight of it and you were in awe. He glanced at the plushie, then back at you, then back at the plushie

With that he handed the plushie to you watching your eyes grow big as you hesitantly reached out to it

"you're giving it to me?"

He nodded softly as he watched you hug it close

"are you sure?! This is the most expensive thing in the prize corner, I don't even think you can get another one! Are you re-"

"take. It."

You nodded and flashed him a huge grin before you watched him take out a pen and write on the plushie's tummy in big letters

'yuki: XXX-XX-XXXX'

"that's your name? Yuki..well yuki I'm [y/n]! I'll be sure to send lots of pictures of our new baby! Figured we can have joint custody hmm?"

Yuki have another nod as you both started to walk out, he didn't feel mentally exhausted when he was around you. You were definitely special and he wanted to know more.

#yandere imagines #yandere #yandere ocs #oc imagines #oc x reader

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atsuwiee · 3 years

Text

writer's tag game! (thanks for the tag @criceofpain)

𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙁𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙊𝙈𝙎 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝙁𝙊𝙍 (𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙔)?

hm,, i think last 2-4 years ago i wrote for bts (i used to be like rlly rlly fan) and i think i even wrote for other fandoms. i used to write for monsta x and then it stayed there for a while lol. (i'm still a monbebe tho hjskj)

𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙁𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙊𝙈𝙎 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙔 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙁𝙊𝙍?

i am currently writing for enhypen! and i plan to write for twst ouh

𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘽𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙁𝙊𝙍?

aaaah i'm not pretty sure about this so i think i'm gonna put in the days where i wrote for competitions and feature writings for school papers,, so i have been 3-4 years i suppose ehe

𝙊𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝙎 𝘿𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎?

wattpad. but i'm not really active on there now, so i use tumblr :D

𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏’𝙎 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀?

definitely would be angst. idk why i just really like hurting myself when i write- also i feel kind off proud(?) when i hear that my readers could actually feel pain while reading my angst stories, since it makes me feel that my stories have emotions y'know-

𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼 𝙋𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙎𝙀𝙍 𝙊𝙍 𝘼 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙉𝙉𝙀𝙍?

i actually do not know omg. it's somewhere in the middle- and it also depends hahaha,, some of my stories i have were panned out but in the end were abandoned (by me)- that's why i don't really trust myself in planning out my stories. most of the time i'm a panster, and it really gets messy for me since when a idea comes into my mind i immediately write it but it will/would be hard for me to continue it since i'd have a hard time connecting the stories and it results to like- more plot holes :/

𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙏 𝙊𝙍 𝙈𝙐𝙇𝙏𝙄 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍?

oneshots !! i have more fun writing those instead of multi-chapters. as i said before, i have stories that are mostly multi-chapters that were just abandoned by me lol

𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄𝙎 𝘼 𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏 𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙂𝙏𝙃 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙄𝙉 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙊𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙄𝙊𝙉 ?

a good 3-5 pages or less (?) i've read tons of books (irl and fics) and i can say i really like some good 3-5 pages but if it's word count then 3-5k ?? though i like 3-5 pages better, keeps me from being bored. if it's too much pages tho i might get bored easily.

𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄𝙎 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝙋𝙐𝘽𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙃𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔?

elysium - jakehoon (on my wattpad which i am not revealing lol)

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘿𝙄𝘿 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙀𝙉𝙅𝙊𝙔 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙊𝙎𝙏?

i have more oneshots rather than chapter ones, but i really enjoyed writing the pink in the night (jake sim oneshot). i'm really satisfied about that and that was also inspired by mitski's song which is in the title of the oneshot. it's a really good song and i thought of one of the lines in the song that went like "i know i kissed you before but, i didn't do it right. can i try again?" and i just had this thought like 'hm, what if i make that as a little line for a oneshot where jake is asking for a second chance with y/n?' since he felt that he wronged y/n and would want to give what they had another chance' (ew that sounded cheesy)

𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝙌𝙐𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙉 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙒𝙃𝙔?

the filo s/o requests !! i really had fun writing those because i could write some words in tagalog (sighs, english is tiring sometimes). i don't remember who requested it thoo:( but big thanks to them for starting the lil filo s/o series i have. <3

𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙎 𝙄𝙉 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎?

fluff to angst or angst to fluff.

𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙉𝙐𝙈𝘽𝙀𝙍 𝙊𝙁 𝙒𝙄𝙋𝙎?

sOmeWheRe aT LikE tHrEe loL

𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙄𝘾𝙀𝘿 𝙄𝙉 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂?

1. i usually end a story/oneshot with a dialogue 2. the resolving of conflicts in my story and really well written (?) because i'm not good at those lol:/ 3. i either write really looooOooNg or just short (i lrly have a 5k or more oneshot on wp)

𝘼 𝙌𝙐𝙊𝙏𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘼 𝙋𝙐𝘽𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙃𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔.

oh how he wished time could be rewinded, but the world kept moving forward. sunghoon is forced to move on. though, as the days became week and months had turned into a year; at the back of his head, the thought of you remained. (it's quite uptown :: p.sh)

𝘼 𝙌𝙐𝙊𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘼𝙉 𝙐𝙉𝙋𝙐𝘽𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙃𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔.

you felt your heart ache a bit when she said that. "does jake even long for me?" you asked. "all the time, y/n... even when we're together he'll tell me he would want to go home because he misses you" this only made your heart heavier. "this relationship wasn't that long, but i'll let him go now– i don't want to stay with somebody who thinks about someone else when i'm with them"

tagging: @wonvelvet, @miedei, @goldenxddeonu, @moonshappiness, @googoojeu, + anyone who wants to try/join ! <3

#tag games !!#moots i adore

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onbreakandburnedout · 3 years

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Saving Me (Part one and two)

(Finally solved my tagging issue)

(TW: Mentions of panic attacks and stroke. I accidentally added the shooting Tw. That's later in the story)

Ellie~

"Hey Charles, how's Henry? ", I asked as I entered the medical tent. Charles had parked himself next to him ever since we got back.

"He's fine, I guess."

"I'm still impressed on how you handled the situation back at the Wall. That wasn't your first time, was it?" He glanced down at the floor, acting like I unlocked a dark memory from the past .

" You're right, it wasn't. I had a younger sister, as well as two older brothers who are in different branches of the military. Anyway, my sister had panic attacks as well, and since my parents and my brothers were almost always on active duty, I was the one looking out for her. We were close, and we planned to join the army together, going out on missions, creating the greatest plans. It would of been great... " I immediately realized where the story was going, and it was only a matter of knowing how it happened.

"I'm sorry if this is painful to talk about, but... how did she, y'know?..."

" It was about three years ago. I was eighteen, and she was thirteen. I remember waking up one morning, and my sister was always the first up, but she wasn't awake. My gut told me to check up on her, and when I finally reached her, she wasn't breathing. Next thing I know, the doctor on duty told me she suffered from a stroke in her sleep. I joined the military about three months later, because in that moment, I was doing it in her honor. "

"Oh damn, Charles I'm so sorry!"

"It's ok. I guess my experiences back then helped me out with Henry." The soft shuffling of blankets broke up our conversation as our focus shifted to a new priority: Henry.

.....

Henry~

My eyes fluttered open to new surroundings. No more of the cold, empty cells of the Wall. Instead, I was in some large beige tent with two other figures in the room. "Henry? How are you feeling dude?"

" Do you need anything? " Ellie. Charles. I pushed myself up from the bed to talk to them.

" I fell a bit lightheaded, but it shouldn't last long, and thanks Charles, but I don't need anything right now. " Charles glared at Elie, held she clear her throat.

"We've been meaning to ask, Henry, but how bad are your a panic attacks?"

" They're fairly new and pretty rare for me, but they always seem to be triggered by any event featuring that particular penitentiary. It actually started out one day when I was calling my brother six years ago. "

Henry(15)~

I was sitting at the local cafe. It was Wednesday, after all, and that meant I could talk to my brother. "Hey Gul! How are you holding up at the Wall?"

"Gul": ...Henry, listen. I don't think I'll be able to talk to you again. I don't know if I'll be able to talk to anyone again.

" Gulliver? What are you talking about? "

"Gul": A couple of inmates and I tried to create an escape plan yesterday, but we were caught by the guards. I'm extremely lucky to have snuck in my phone with me, but I'm being placed in isolation, then after that, they're going to freeze me to death.

" Gulliver, you're joking! Please you're the only family I have left! "

"Gul" : Henry, I need oh to promise me you won't - GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! LET ME TALK TO MY BROther~

???:.. So, you're his brother, eh? All you need to know is that I'm the head warden here, and if you end up like your brother, you're as good as dead. Goodbye, rat.

The warden hung up the phone, and I sat still as a stone for a solid minute, then a new sensation filled me. My heart started to beat faster than it has ever beaten, I started to hyperventilate, and the world around me started to spin.

Is this it? Am I going to die alone?

I stood up from the chair I was on, but I lost my balance and fell onto the deck. A couple of people came to check up on me, before I passed out.

Henry ~

" After that, I had very rare panic attacks. In fact, the last time I had one was a full year before I robbed the bank. "

"You must really miss your brother." Ellie said to me with condolences .

"Trust me Henry, I know what it's like to lose a family member." Charlie and I locked eyes and gave each other a small smile. It was peaceful...

But peace doesn't last forever.

An officer walked in and handed Charlie a rifle. "Dmitri and his men are at the gates. We'll send some reinforcements for the outside perimeter of the med bay, but it's up to you to protect those two.

Before I knew it, the world stated to spin.

Charles ~

I looked back at Henry, who laid back down on the bed, and at Andrew Cobbler, who handed me the rifle. "The General told me to tell you to stay here since you're experienced with panic attacks. Besides, you two seem close." I felt my face heat up.

" No , not like that! We're just friends! " I rushed the words out quickly.

"Oh, that's not really what I meant, but I don't really care if you guys were that close. I'm actually bisexual myself!"The conversation would have continued, but he was summoned by Amber Downs, who pulled him out since they needed to secure the perimeters.

"Can you do me a favor and set up a walkie talkie in the General's tent so we can listen in?"

" Sure thing! "

Huh. Turns out I'm not the only one that's bisexual here...

"Do you want me to hold the rifle, so you can focus on Henry?"

" Wha- do you even know how to use one?! " She shrugged before continuing.

"My dad used to take me out to go hunting." I reluctantly gave the weapon to her, unsure if there would be repercussions for what I just did. Taking my seat on the edge of the bed, I turned on the walkie talkie, getting prepared for whatever happens.

General: Dmitri, that doesn't explain the fact that you kidnapped a pardoned man, and threw him into solitary confinement!

Dmitri: Anyone that is on my list goes to the Wall. No questions asked. Besides, you have no proof that we kidnapped him.

General: We have security footage of your guards breaking into his apartment and carrying him into your truck!

Nate Box: Sir, the recon teams just sent back their report on the Wall.

General: Read It aloud.

Nate: The facility lacks any health policies. They have found large scores of sick, even dead, inmates in a single, large cell. Bodies were found floating in the ocean close to the cliff. All of them have been dead for a while. They even managed to get a list of all of the inmates currently there. Over seventy five percent shouldn't even be there, and half of that percentage have pardons.

My hand instantly flies to my mouth, and Ellie almost drops the rifle in surprise. How has that place stayed open for this long?!

General: .... I'm placing you, and your entire faculty under arrest. Nate, gather more soldiers and release those on the list, and transfer the criminals with the most severe crimes to different, SAFER, prisons.

Dmitri: I'm not going anywhere without Henry and Ellie.

The sounds of retreating footsteps are heard in the walkie talkie, and the sounds of footsteps approaching are slowly coming upon us. I hear Henry start to hyperventilate, and I sit him up and pull him into a protective hug.

"Ellie, don't do anything until I tell you to, alright? "

#Henry Stickmin #stickvin #charles calvin #ellie rose #henrystickminxcharlescalvin #general galeforce #dmitri petrov #original character #tw: stroke #tw: panic attack #tw: shot

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champhangman · 4 years

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Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: One of ?? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count:3,082 A/N: This. Is. All. Ashley's. Fucking. Fault. I hate her. Bitch.* Warnings: Alcohol use. Mild cursing. * = Actually I love her very much and this isn't so much her fault as she encouraged me to blather on about how to fit a scene I'd written into a fic, then highly encouraged me to write the fic I plotted out in the middle of the night. She's literally the best.

Tagging: @adampage / @cowboysht / @baysexuality / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @evilangel84 / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

One

"Page!"

Adam looked up from his laptop, surprised to see Britt making her way to him. Not that her finding him for a chat was unusual. She rarely looked so excited, though. He stretched his leg to push out the chair next to him, smiling faintly when she flopped down. "What's up?"

"We're having a couple friends over this weekend. Nothing fancy. Just throwing some steaks on the grill and hanging out. You'll come, won't you?" she asked, gaze moving from him to her phone. He could see that she was texting someone. Probably her boyfriend.

Or were they engaged now? He couldn't be sure. If they were, Britt didn't wear a ring. Giving his head a small shake, he considered her invitation. "I don't know…"

"Please? We were just saying the other night that we haven't hung out in ages," she reminded him.

He sensed a trap. Either in the next few moments, or as soon as he got to their house, her face would light up and she would say—

"There's someone I want you to meet."

There it was. Adam sighed and shook his head. "Famous last words."

"Not like that! God, she's so not your type. At all."

"Then why do you want me to meet her?" he asked. Because he had to. He began clicking the pen he was holding.

"She's new to the business. Wait. Not that new. She signed over there last year I think? But she never worked the indies. Anyway, she debuted a month or so ago and Adam's taken her under his wing."

He nodded, smiling. Cole took anyone with promise and passion under his wing. "Okay?"

"And she's far away from home so she doesn't see her family much. She's from Montana. Anyway, she's been to the house a few times and I really like her." Britt smiled. "I'm not trying to set you up. I promise."

"Again, why do you want me to meet her?" He kept pushing his thumb against the top of the pen, faster and faster, until he jabbed it too hard and it went flying across the table. Dropping his hand to his thigh, he drummed his fingers and waited for her explanation.

"Because she's nice. She's super friendly and I loved her in five minutes. I don't expect you to love her!" Britt promised, holding up one hand. "So you'll come?"

Adam groaned. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do. It's a free…ish country."

"But you'll guilt the hell out of me if I don't."

Britt's smile was dazzling. "Of course."

"Text me the time," he sighed.

"Yay! If you want whiskey you have to bring it. Oh, and bring a change of clothes. We'll probably end up in the pool. See you!"

He drew in a breath to reply, but she was already gone. Shaking his head, he bent to lean under the table, searching for his lost pen. He still had a suspicious feeling that she and Cole were definitely trying to hook him up with whoever it was Cole had taken under his wing. More Britt than Cole, he was sure, leaning to snatch the pen from the floor. Settling back, he wondered why seemingly normal people who fell in love were suddenly zealous about everyone around them being coupled up. He would never understand it. And he would never understand why he was always the one being set up. Did he appear lonely? Sad because he was single? Depressed because he had only his beer and whiskey to keep him company?

Well, if he did appear that way, he wasn't lonely. He began to click the pen rapidly while turning his attention back to the laptop. He lived a very full life. He was achieving his dreams. He got to work with some of his best friends. He was making good money. Could finally spoil his parents, who had more than spoiled him when he was growing up. He had an active social life. He didn't sit at home in a funk on his nights off, drinking the sadness away while listening to a melancholy Hank Williams tune. He didn't need a significant other. He was perfectly happy with his life as it was.

Okay, so he was lonely sometimes. When everyone was off doing couple things and he was left with Jack to keep him company. And those times they would go to a bar, or when they'd been on the cruise, and even though he had been surrounded by willing partners he'd been unable to do anything but down drinks and retreat to his room. Alone.

"Get a grip," he muttered to himself, throwing the pen down and resting his head in his hands. Britt had said she wasn't his type. Which meant she was… Hell, what was she?

On that note, what the hell was his type? Did he even have a type?

"I'm not going," he grumbled, reaching to pull the laptop closer to him. "I don't care. I don't give a damn if she does guilt-trip me into the next fucking decade, I—"

"You okay?"

Grunting, he looked up to see Nick standing beside him. "Yeah. I'm fine. Almost finished this bit for BTE."

"Where are you not going?" Nick asked.

"Britt and Cole's." Adam glanced to his phone, lying on the table, when it buzzed with an incoming message. With a sigh he picked it up and read the words Britt had sent.

Saturday, 5-ish. Pool! BYOB!

"Who's she setting you up with this time?"

"Damned if I know. Because I'm not going." So decided, Adam locked his phone and turned his attention fully to the laptop.

***

"Serena!"

About to leave the Performance Center, Serena halted mid-step and looked over her shoulder to see Adam Cole jogging towards her. She knew she wouldn't be leaving any time soon and let her bag slide from her shoulder. She had purposefully arrived early that morning to get extra work in the green room done, still uncomfortable with her mic skills, and had gotten permission from Matt and Sara to slip out early. She was looking forward to her days off. She couldn't wait to turn the outside world off for a couple of days, enjoy some wine, and de-stress.

"Glad I caught you. You're leaving already?" he asked, eyeing her bag.

"Shh, it's a secret," she whispered, rolling her eyes. "What's up?"

"I thought you wanted to work on your enzuigiri."

"I did. I did!" she insisted when he lifted his eyebrows dubiously. "Ask Shawn! I spent an hour today working on it!"

"At one time?"

He had her there. Groaning, she picked up her bag and turned to go back to the locker room. His laugh followed her up, and when she came back down a few moments later he was waiting with a smug smile. Gathering her hair into a ponytail, she walked with him to the empty ring on the far side of the practice room. "Why do you torture me?"

"Hey, you want to be the best, right?" he asked, hopping up onto the apron.

"At the moment I'll settle for second-best," she muttered.

"That's quitter talk. Come on." He gallantly held the ropes open so she could climb into the ring. "Fear not the man who has practiced ten thousand moves once, fear the man who has practiced one move ten thousand times."

"That's a misquote."

"It still holds credence. Show me what you got, Mermaid."

She stretched for a few moments, then launched into running the ropes with him. It was still a marvel to her that, of all people, he had decided to mentor her. She had started wrestling on a whim, practically on a dare. Somehow, all the stars had aligned in her favor for once and she had been signed to the company after her first tryout. Because, miraculously, she was good at this. She, who'd never been remotely athletic after stopping gymnastics at the age of eight.

Even more miraculously, people seemed to like her. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She'd pinched her arm repeatedly the day before she had made her NXT debut, and still expected to wake up in her old bed at home.

She landed on the canvas with a hiss. Knowing what Adam would say if she didn't, she rolled onto her back nipped up quickly and waited for him to hop to his feet.

"Keep your eye on your landing," he said, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. He smiled and reached for her hand. "You're doing great, kid. What are you doing over the weekend?"

"I'm not coming in to work on my enzuigiri," she warned after giving his hand a shake.

"No," he laughed once they'd climbed out of the ring. He reached for his water and tossed her hers.

She waited until after she'd taken a sip before speaking. "It's my first real weekend off in months. I'm staying home and being lazy."

"Me and Britt are having some friends over tomorrow."

"Oh, no." Serena began shaking her head. "No, Adam."

"Britt wants you to meet—"

"No!"

"Don't let her matchmaking keep you from coming over and having fun." He sighed. "Look, I know the last three—"

"Four," she corrected.

"Four times were utter failures. But still, come over and hang out? It'll be steaks and you can jump in the pool." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I kind of already told her you said you'd come."

Serena narrowed her eyes. "When did she make these plans?"

"A day or two ago…" Adam cleared his throat. "Monday…"

"Son-of-a… Who does she want me to meet?"

"It doesn't matter. Look, you've been working your ass off. And I know when you're not here you're holed up in your apartment. C'mon, just come out and have some fun. I'll keep her from throwing men in your path."

"Y'know, when you offered to give me extra help, you forgot to mention that you and your girlfriend would constantly be trying to hook me up with your friends." Serena heaved a sigh at the sight of his hangdog expression. "Fine, I'll come. But only for steaks and the pool and some socialization. But if I hear the words 'you have to meet' I'm leaving."

"Of course." He began to smile. "Tomorrow. Around five?"

"Casual?"

"You know it."

"I don't like you much right now," she informed him.

"Hey, this is all Britt's doing, not mine!"

"Why do I get the feeling you're not a hundred percent innocent?"

"Because you're a suspicious person, Mermaid."

"See you tomorrow, Cole Slaw," she promised with a shake of her head. Before she stepped away, though, she reared back to look at him again. "Just how many people will be at this shindig?"

"A few," he said, his smile too wide for her liking.

"Eight? Ten? Twenty?"

"Not twenty… A few," he said again. "See you tomorrow?"

Rolling her eyes, she considered telling him that no, he wouldn't. That she would stick to her original plans of staying in her apartment and being as lazy as humanly possible. But, she thought with a groan, she couldn't. For whatever reason, Adam and Britt had befriended her shortly after she started working at the Performance Center, and she was extremely grateful for their friendship. It made her homesickness a little less intense, knowing she had them to turn to. With a sigh, she nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

***

He was fastening the buttons of his new shirt when the realization struck.

"Goddammit, what the fucking hell," he groused, unbuttoning the shirt with a scowl. Despite his decision to not go, he was getting dressed. And, damn it all to hell, he had been dressing with care. He glared down at his boots and flung the shirt onto the bed. He refused to dress as though to impress whoever it was Britt wanted him to meet. It was casual, right? So why had he chosen his best jeans?

Still cussing under his breath he took it all off. Had his favorite old jeans pulled up when he caught his reflection in the mirror. With another scowl he raked the hair he'd spent twenty minutes fussing with into a bun and fastened it with a band before buttoning his jeans and yanking a t-shirt out the drawer.

He didn't want to go. But he pulled the shirt on and threaded his belt through the loops of his jeans.

He knew what was going to happen. He knew how it was going to end. But he gathered the spare clothes Britt had told him to bring and dug out his swim trunks.

And he grabbed the new bottle of whiskey on his way out the door.

His suspicions were raised when he pulled up to Britt and Cole's and saw only one strange car parked. He checked the time and saw that it was after five. Dragging a hand over his face he considered driving off and going back to his place. But just as he reached to put his truck in gear he saw the front door open and then Cole was waving.

And, damn it, he couldn't leave now.

Cole greeted him with an ice-cold beer and a warm smile. "Hey, man."

Adam took a grateful swig as he stepped inside, and handed over the whiskey. "Where's Britt?"

"Working on part of dinner. C'mon, we'll go chill out back." Cole led the way through the back of the house, and Adam made sure to poke his head into the kitchen to greet Britt before stepping out on the patio.

Halfway through his beer and several minutes into safe conversation, he couldn't stand it. "Alright, who is she?"

"Who?"

Adam squinted at his old friend. "Britt wants me to meet her. But she was overselling the fact that she just wants us to be friends. So, who is she? And if she's so great, why haven't I met her already?"

Cole sighed. "It's Serena. And look, this is all Britt's idea, not mine."

Adam took a swig of beer and nodded. He knew of her. Had checked out some of her work in NXT. "I'm sick of being forced into a double date, Cole."

"I know, I know. And I was gonna invite some others, but… Britt thinks her plan is perfect and that if she stresses that she doesn't want you to be romantically involved that… She just wants you to be happy."

"Jesus Christ," Adam laughed bitterly. "Am I that fucking depressing?"

"No!" His friend's voice was vehement. "You deserve happiness, Page."

"I'm happy," he ground out.

"Are you?" Cole asked softly.

Adam drained his beer and slung the bottle into the recycling bin at the corner of the patio. "Yes. I'm happy."

"Are y'all having boy talk out here, Cole Slaw?"

He turned at the soft voice that spoke from the doorway. Blinked at the sight of neon pink hair tumbling over a shoulder and a hand holding two bottles of beer. Clearing his throat, he looked to Adam. "Cole Slaw?"

"She hates me," Cole sighed.

"He loves it," she insisted, stepping out onto the patio. Her smile was friendly as she approached, and she lifted the beers in greeting. "Introduce me?"

"Serena, Adam Page. Adam, Serena Parker."

"Pleased to meet you," Adam said automatically, extending his hand.

"Likewise." Her hand was cool from her beer, but her handshake was firm.

"I'll just go see if Britt needs help," Cole announced before slipping away.

Adam watched him retreat, shaking his head in disbelief. "Un-fucking-believable."

"Here," she said, thrusting a beer into his hands. "You look like you could use it."

He accepted it with a nod and wrenched the cap off. Waited until they'd sipped in silence for several long moments before sighing. "You know what they're doing, don't you?"

"I knew the minute Cole invited me," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he promised. He could feel eyes watching them through the window and nearly threw up his middle finger. Instead, he gestured to the pool. "You going in?"

"In a bit." She glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at him with a rueful grin. "Let's walk."

"I'm sorry they dragged you into this," he said once they'd left the patio. He didn't know why he felt the need to apologize. It wasn't his fault. Not really. "They've got it in their head that—"

"You need a partner?" she finished. "Same. It's really getting on my nerves."

He felt a surge of relief. "Really? I almost left when I realized she'd lied about having a few people over."

"I almost didn't come," she admitted. "But…"

"They're your friends and you don't want to be mean," he finished softly.

"Exactly. But god, they get on my tits. Any single man they know is perfect for me. Because, you know, a woman can't just be single and enjoying life unless she's got a man."

"Fuck, they're brutal," he agreed, relaxing slightly when it became apparent that she wasn't angling for something more than casual conversation. "I don't get it."

"Me either! Just because we're single doesn't mean we have to be thrust together," Serena proclaimed. "It's ridiculous. I don't get why once people get in a relationship they think everyone needs to be in one."

"It's like they don't think two people can just be friends." Adam smiled and took a swig of beer.

"I mean, yeah, having a partner is nice. But it's not the be-all end-all of life." She stopped at the pool and kicked off one sandal so she could trail her toes in the water.

"It should happen organically," he said.

"Yes. Not because someone thinks I'm perfect for someone or vice versa." She flicked water from her toes and turned to face him. Her smile was almost contagious. "So now we know that neither of us want to hook up just because Britt and Cole think we'd be good together."

"Absolutely," he agreed with a nod. "Want to tell them we aren't compatible?"

"No…" She shook her head vigorously, and bright pink waves caught the sunlight. "We don't tell them a thing. Let them wonder."

"You, Serena Parker, are a wise woman," he decided with a grin.

She raised her bottle and clinked it against his. "I'll fucking drink to that!"

---

#hangman page imagine #hangman page fanfiction #hangman adam page #aew fanfiction #ALL ASHLEY'S FAULT #my fics #multipart:BITN

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litrojia · 3 years

Text

Personal Update

I think I ought to provide a personal update to all of you, just to vent all my thoughts somewhere and to explain my recent activity.

Personal Life

Like many of you, 2020 was not kind to me. While I fortunately haven't been directly impacted by COVID yet, the pandemic amplified some minor personal missteps to the point where I'm extremely anxious about my future.

I'm a college student, and I'll have a bachelor's in engineering in May. My GPA is phenomenal, but I fear that's all I have going for me. The thing that really matters are connections, as well as the early experiences that connections help with. I don't have that. I'm quite shy and never put myself out there to anybody in the industry or professors, nor do I come from a family of engineers who can get me a job through nepotism. Either it was too late when I realized that connections were at least as important as grades, or I willingly buried my head in the sand. By the time I was planning to sort myself out and put myself out there, COVID hit, putting an end to physical interaction and any shot at an internship last summer, which I was really counting on. More recently, I've all but canned some plans that I had for grad school. I don't feel like it's worth it in the position I'm in. Thus, I've jumped right into finding jobs, and it's tough. I imagine it's a mix of a bad economy and just not knowing how to do it since I've never been hired for a competitive position. I'm gonna need a lot of luck.

I know I'm not alone, but it weighs heavily on me. Sometimes it overwhelms me. When I think about it, I feel bad to do anything else to enjoy myself (especially art), but at the same time I feel defeated and discouraged from trying, so it becomes a vicious cycle.

Art

I fell off hard in the second half of last year. ATG last June burned me out. By the time I recovered from it, my computer broke. And by the time my computer was fixed and I was getting back into art again, the semester started. It wasn't even a particularly hard semester, but I just struggled with time management. This break between semesters (started a month ago, ending very soon) hasn't been too productive either. There's still lots that I want to do (OC development, learning to draw backgrounds once and for all, collabs, anthro, non-pony, just some good ol' canon ponies more than once every few months, reviving that kinky alt of mine I've mentioned here once, and probably more), but I just struggle to focus on it with the world weighing on my mind.

A few months ago, I opened commissions. If any of my commissioners are reading this, thank you again for buying one. I was a little disappointed with the demand I got for them, but I figure it was mostly because when I opened them and ever since, I've barely ever been drawing. I might not have been able to handle a lot of commissions anyways. For now though, commissions are closed, and I'm not sure when they'll open back up.

Online Relationships

I've been becoming more closed off online (and offline probably) over the past few months. Again, it has to do mostly with poor time management and stress. I treasure many of my past interactions, and I'd love to talk to more people online, but I just struggle to balance it all. If I've drifted away from you lately, it's not anything to do with you. Maybe I'll be able to get back out of my shell soon.

Twitter etc.

Twitter bothers me a lot. Actually, nearly all of the art sites bother me, but Twitter bothers me most. First of all, it's one of the greatest hotbeds of toxicity ever. Even outside of a strictly political sense (which needs no elaboration, but I must say makes me fear for the world's future), it still leads to all sorts of unwarranted harassment that isn't good for society. I'm looking at you, "Trixie is trans" folks. That drama, along with the Capitol stuff, is the straw that broke the camel's back for me. Secondly, it just isn't an art site. People use it because others use it and because it has porn. That's all. There's no organization on Twitter, and stuff just gets easily lost to time. And yet, some artists not only put up with Twitter, but can't get enough of it. They get caught up in trends that spam my feed. They get caught up by numbers. They use fleets, which is just the dumb corporate "stories" fad imported to Twitter, and doesn't even appear on desktop (which is both a blessing and a curse). Some call themselves "Twitter artists", letting it form their identity. But really, I can't blame these people, and if I described you, I don't mean to cause offense. The toxic hellhole of Twitter just shows no mercy in corrupting reasonable people. And the people who run Twitter love every single bit of it. Fuck Twitter.

I don't want to support Twitter, and I've been considering abandoning it, even if it means losing most of my following. I have a few artist friends who don't actively use Twitter and they live, though frankly they have less of a following, so there's less pressure there. However, the main reason I stick around is because so many artists only use Twitter, so that's where I can see their art. If I do leave it, an idea I've been considering is doing a raffle on all of my other sites. Not only would it encourage a few people to follow me on new sites, but maybe, just maybe it would encourage people to use sites other than Twitter. Still, I would need to either say goodbye to a lot of art or browse Twitter without actually using it (RSS? Keep the account to browse but not interact?).

It sucks though, because besides Twitter, where else is there? I've been getting more and more fed up with DeviantArt, my second most popular page, seemingly purposely killing their website. Tumblr is already dead, and if Pillowfort is supposed to be mimicking Tumblr, then it mimics Tumblr's inactivity best. I created a Newgrounds account recently and it actually seems pretty decent for art, but it too is dead. I've always been heavily active on Derpibooru, but that lacks the features of a full-fledged art site and has its own drama. As an aside, I actually joined staff there pretty recently. I understand that some people may not be happy with that site or its staff, and sometimes I'd agree with you, but it's been so incredibly valuable to me in exploring the pony fandom that I felt obligated to help it out, and I hope you can accept that. Anyways, Inkbunny looks like it'd be great if it weren't for all the... y'know. FurAffinity exists I guess. And Instagram is just Twitter but worse. I'll never touch it.

If you read everything up to here, or at least skimmed it thoroughly enough to understand, thank you.

#text #vent #not art #update

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teddy-bear-surprise · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: The Brink of Darkness

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 Part 1 || Chapter 7 Part 2 || Chapter 8 || Almost The End || Chapter 9 ||

WARNING: Mentions of death/murder and excessive drinking

It was nearing five o'clock when Ophelia wandered through the aisles of some random corner store in Downtown LA, picking up, examining, and adding items to her basket. She was thinking about what to do for New Years', only two weeks remained before she would enter 2018 and she could not wait to celebrate. She considered crashing a party in LA, staying at home and watching the ball drop on the television, or possibly even flying out to New York to see it for herself.

Ophelia had made a lot of money in her youth, showered in promotions and offers from some of the biggest engineering companies in the United States and beyond. Now, at the age of thirty-seven, she rarely had to work anymore. Her days and nights were generally spent in the solitude of her home, simply reading or researching novelties. It was rare for Ophelia to go out and travel, so visiting New York City on New Years' sounded like a swell idea. She nursed the idea as she walked, deciding to look into it further once she returned home and she continued her shopping.

The first items that she picked up were two fresh linen-scented candles, one bottle of acetone, and a nice bottle of cheap, red wine. It felt like just yesterday she had turned twenty-one and buying alcohol still felt like a crime... frankly, a lot of things she did felt like that. She was about to enter the snack aisle to look for some decadent snacks, but she heard a television chittering from the front of the store, catching her attention.

"One more dead celebrity this morning, it's absolutely tragic. Rachel, what do you think is happening? These murders are scaring everyone, myself included."

"Well, Diego, it seems as though the perpetrator, or possibly perpetrators, are targeting rich, male celebrities. Why exactly, we do not know. More about the Golden Murders after this break–"

Ophelia was amused by their ignorance, "If only they knew who those men really were," she thought to herself.

An ad began playing and Ophelia's attention was once more drawn to her hunger. She found the popcorn first, stocking up on three boxes of the salty snack before searching for her other craving. Once she added a bar of dark chocolate to her now overflowing basket, she headed towards the checkout lines.

She acted incredibly nonchalant, her expression never faltered from its indifferent norm, even as the clerk conversed with her.

"You see what they just showed on the news? Scary stuff, huh?" The cashier looked up at Ophelia, raising his eyebrows.

"Uhhh, yeah. It is kind of scary, I guess. I'm not a man though, so I don't really think I have to worry," she did not want to divulge much on the subject, preferring to keep an ambiguous expression.

The cashier ignored her dismissive tone and continued rambling on, "Y'know, when the first one happened I wasn't that surprised, these rich people can get mixed up in some shady things sometimes so I was like, 'It's just one dead rich man, what's the big deal?' But now. Now, I'm definitely thinking that something's up. Either they're all in the same cult," he lowered his voice and leaned towards Ophelia who withdrew from him.

"Or they've all done something really, really bad," he straightened up again and finished scanning her items, "Your total is gonna be twenty-three dollars and forty-eight cents. Cash or card?"

His demeanor returned to normal and Ophelia shrugged off the odd tangent he had gone off on before replying, "Cash, exact change," and picking up her bag as she dropped her money on the counter.

She exited the store quickly and threw her purchase into the front, passenger's seat of her 1982 Chevrolet Citation. A classic, but somewhat ugly, light blue car. She inserted her key into the ignition, pushed down on her brake pedal, and twisted it a few times as the engine sputtered. Annoyed at her junk car, she smacked her hand against the key angrily. This time when she turned it, however, the engine started. She pulled out of the crowded, street-side parking spot and started on her way home.

Her brain was clouded and churning, both hating and loving all of the attention she was indirectly receiving on the news. Despite slightly enjoying the attention, she wished people would not talk about it as much, especially if they were spending most of the time idolizing the abusive men who were killed. Even opening the windows to feel the brisk air as she drove did nothing to clear her mind. She turned to her last resort, the radio. She cranked up the volume, which was not actually loud at all, and turned the station to one that was playing one of her favorite songs from the 2012 era. Ophelia sang along loudly, enjoying the rhythm and lyrics equally.

When the song ended though, the station's hosts brought up the Golden Murders once more, infuriating her and her grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"So, we've just received news that federal law enforcement will now be taking interest in this upsetting case. What do you think of this?"

"I think that it's a great idea. I have no doubt that our local law enforcement was doing their best, but these are celebrities we're talking about, their faces are plastered everywhere and people look up to them. It's scaring people, you know? The faster they can get to the bottom of this, the better."

"You heard it here first, folks. The FBI will be landing here in LA in two days, whoever is behind these murders, you better buckle up buddy. Until next time on 97.9, the station of your dreams!"

Ophelia rolled her eyes and clicked it off, so much for escaping her problems. She hated the way that these reporters always made her feel like the prey when in reality, she was the hunter. But she was not the only hunter in this game. Her partner, Catherine, was just as guilty and probably nowhere near as worried as Ophelia. She was almost certain that it was just Catherine's clinically psychotic tendencies that gave her the upper hand in situations like these, but she still felt a tinge of jealousy.

She had met Catherine 'Cat' Adams a few years ago on Tinder. Cat's profile surprised her, bringing all of the spunk of a younger woman, despite being only a year younger than Ophelia, but without the immaturity. On their first date, they went out to one of those silly drive-in movies and watched the worst possible movie in cinematic existence. It did not matter to them though because they talked the entire time, sharing their favorite and their most hated things about life.

Ophelia soon realized that she and Catherine were near mirror images of each other, in terms of ideologies at least. After only three more dates, the two became an official couple. Cat even admitted, two months into their relationship, that she never intended to make a Tinder account and said that it was much too irresponsible in her line of work. When Ophelia asked Cat what this line of work was, she received a very ambiguous answer.

"I'd love to tell you, hun, but I don't think I can. Not yet, at least. Maybe someday," she could remember Cat tucking her hair behind her ear and cupping her chin as she said this next part, "when we've been together for longer, I might even invite you to come work with me."

She never expected that a couple of years later, she and Cat would become a murderous duo, slightly resembling the women of the musical, Chicago. Though they had broken up the first time that Cat was sent to prison, they remained extremely close and it was not until she escaped in August that they began their moonlight endeavors.

According to Catherine, it had been 'shockingly' easy and 'way too fun' to escape, not even requiring her to employ her 'Plan B'. Ophelia did not even know that she would be seeing Cat again within the century, but when she showed up on Ophelia's doorstep in the middle of the night, her ex-lover could not help but let her back into her life.

Cat's slightly off-kilter and bold mannerisms were some of Ophelia's favorite things about her. Now, unfortunately, Cat was forced to be much more low-key. She drove the most average car in existence, a run-down 2008 Toyota Corolla; lived in an extremely average apartment with one room and one bathroom; and looked like the average Los Angelean thirty-year-old-woman with her now blonde hair.

Ophelia paid for all of Cat's expenses, like her apartment and groceries, and though it barely dented her pockets, she always made sure that Catherine respected the fact that she was spending Ophelia's money and not her own. They had an incredibly symbiotic relationship, of course, living apart did make some aspects more difficult. Ophelia took care of all of the necessities, such as materials and planning and Cat took care of the creative aspects of their 'activities'.

They could not fully remember how it all happened. It started innocently with some tequila shots and the celebration of Cat's return. Within an hour, however, the two were stumbling around drunk and preaching their hatred for their abusive fathers and men in general which, for a while, was fine. Suddenly things took a turn when Cat asked if Ophelia had ever considered killing her father. Ophelia laughed drunkenly for a few minutes before managing to spit out the fact that he was already dead. The two of them burst into a cacophony of drunken laughter that rang throughout her house. When they calmed down though, Cat asked again, this time even more serious. The rest, including a bit of an entanglement between them, was history because what happens on a drunken night, stays in the drunken night.

For some reason, thinking about her and Cat's history brought her a sense of peace. So much so that she was already pulling into her driveway when she switched her train of thought. The yellow-beige tones of her house repulsed her, but they were neutral and bland, practically guaranteeing that she would stay out of people's line of sight. Ophelia opened her car door, leaning her elbow on the top of it, and looked behind her admiring the landscape of the mountains that surrounded her home, because even if the home itself was ugly, at least it had a good view. She leaned back into her car to grab her purse and shopping bag before slamming the car door and heading towards its trunk. Inside, she retrieved a trash bag, which although very large and cold, was surprisingly light and easy to carry.

She carried all of these into her house, struggling to open the door with only one free hand, and set them down near her back door. After writing down a quick note to look more into the idea of going to New York, Ophelia began putting up her new purchases. She was incredibly tired and not entirely in the mood to do menial cleaning duties but continued anyway. The two candles each earned a spot on either side of her countertop, the wine went into her refrigerator, and the snacks got tossed into the pantry. The acetone, on the other hand, got a very special spot in her pocket. She carried it with her outside, picking up the trash bag on her way to her backyard.

Ophelia stopped in front of an oddly-shaped fire-pit, one of her own inventions from her time at MIT (it seemed useless at the time but now came in handy), and lifted its cover. It featured a thick, steel, rounded lid and a sturdy concrete body. She dumped out the contents of the trash bag into the strange pit, promptly followed by her pouring out the bottle of acetone and banging the top shut. After waiting a few seconds, enough time for enough of the acetone to accumulate inside the pit in its gaseous form, she clicked a small red button and heard a blast go off inside. It had been specially designed to withstand the accumulated pressure of an incredibly powerful flash fire, though the ones she was creating were not very large. A few more seconds later, following the activation of the pit's exhaust system, Ophelia opened it back up to reveal the ashes of her once bloodied clothing.

She coughed at the pungent smell and rushed back inside to where there was cleaner air. Even within her house, the smell followed her, so she decided to light her two new candles and take a shower.

When she exited, her stomach let out a low grumble which she felt deeply. Ophelia shuffled over to her refrigerator to grab a slice of cold pizza. She devoured it hungrily, still feeling unsatisfied. Now turning to her second plan, wine and popcorn, she pranced to her pantry, grabbing the popcorn, and then to her fridge to retrieve the wine. Ophelia carefully poured herself a glass of the red liquid as she waited for her bag of the unhealthy, salty snack in the microwave to finish popping. Once the microwave dinged, it was time for her to start the party.

She downed her first glass of wine in one continuous gulp and turned on some absurdly loud music, which, thanks to her somewhat isolated location, no one else could hear. Ophelia now danced with a hand full of popcorn and the bottle of wine in the other. It had barely been ten minutes and she was already drunk. She stumbled into her kitchen to grab some more popcorn from the bag when she saw her phone light up out of the corner of her eye. Ophelia tried to distinguish the name that had appeared on her screen, but her vision was much too blurred for her to tell.

"It's probably nothing, just a scam call... I mean, who else would call me at," She tried to read the clock on the wall, "I don't know, but it's late why can't they just leave me alone."

Her drunken thoughts slurred together as she ignored her phone, only inciting her to increase the volume of her already blaring music. Popcorn, in her drunken state and time of night, tasted extra good and Ophelia finished the bag almost immediately. She rounded the corner, into her living room, and continued to dance to the beat of the music with the bottle in her left hand. Her clumsy feet stumbled slightly, leading her to bump into a bookshelf.

Ophelia looked up at the bookshelf angrily, almost as if it was a real person that she had bumped into, but her eyes softened when they settled upon a picture frame. "'Germs'", she recalled lovingly as she touched the glass gently. It was a framed photograph of her and Spencer at their first Science Olympiad competition.

They were the only members on their team, but it did not matter because they still managed to garner themselves a shining, first place trophy. She remembered how difficult it had been to convince the teachers at her school to let them start the club, how they spent hours going over budgets, fundraising, and game plans. More than anything though, she remembered how happy Spencer had been to take home his very own prize.

A feeling of sadness and longing welled up inside her, wishing she could be as innocent as that girl in the photograph, wishing that she had not lost contact with her first 'best friend'. Alas, the night was coming to an end and she could not bear the pain of her sorrows, so with another prolonged swig, Ophelia finished the bottle of wine.

She gave it a few minutes to act, turning off her music and sitting herself down on her couch awkwardly, before feeling its sedating effects. Quietly, she placed the bottle on the ground and looked up once more at the picture on her bookshelf while her heavy eyes closed for a night of dreamless sleep.

#spencer x oc #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #unsub #reid x oc #reid #fanfic #fanfiction #angsty #enemies to lovers

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late--arrival · 4 years

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Zayn is active again! Only took a baby to do it haha. Theres talk about maybe louis and zayn patching things up i think i could actually see it. You always seem to have a non biased opinion do you think so? Or am i just zouis trash??

I'm honestly flattered that you would think to ask me! So thank you!

I've only been in the fandom for a few months now, so I didn't experience the long period of radio silence everyone else did (or at least not yet?). First time Zayn has been doing something since joining though! So that's exciting.

Yes, I have seen a few people on here (and especially Twitter) debating on whether Zayn and Louis will iron out their problems in the near future. I don't think you're trash, maybe a bit optimistic? 😁 I mean, I certainly hope they become friends again, that would be a major foundation laid out for the ot5 reunion, not a band reunion (can't see that happening!), just for them all to be on speaking times again...

I think the speculation is mainly down to Zayn (allegedly?) retouching his Bus 1 tattoo, which is of course the matching tattoo he shares with Louis. I'll be totally honest, up until now I thought Zayn had covered his tattoo up when he had the back of his hand tattooed (don't judge me I'm not well versed on 1D's tattoos yet). So I think it actually says something within itself that he specifically had the tattooist work around it, just so he could keep it there. If he has had it retouched, I think it's definitely a good sign, but not exactly any kind of breakthrough in Zayn and Louis'... er, friendship? There's clearly a lot to work through between them than just maintaining their matching tattoos.

Then there's was the mini frenzy that went down when Louis liked Zayn's baby announcement/pic, which again is a good sign, at least compared to when I joined the fandom and Louis wasn't even following Zayn on Instagram (or acknowledging Zayn's existence in general) . But once again, pressing the like button on a picture isn't going to fix whatever the emotional blowout was that happened at the end of one direction.

I definitely think that Louis and Zayn are in better places than they were with everything that went down 5 years ago, time heals and growing up does put things in perspective. If anything were to happen I feel like Louis would have to be the one to reach out first, which a couple of months ago I would of said 'no way is that going to happen then!' But given Louis' teeny tiny steps in following Zayn, liking pictures, and acknowledging that they'd both have to mature in themselves before rehashing their... relationship/friendship whatever you wanna call it, is far better than what was going on previously (which was exactly nothing). Really the fact that Louis seems to have plans to revisit that relationship is a good sign too (although when exactly who knows?). I'd definitely say there's progress between them, although publicly only on Louis' side. It's not a lot, but Rome wasn't built in a day.

Completely off topic but I thought of it when thinking about Louis and Zayn's matching tattoos. Y'know, because we all know who else had matching tattoos? Zayn and Harry. Zayn interestingly has kept his tattoo, Harry had his covered relatively quickly after Zayn left with the laurel leaves. Which always makes me wonder so many things... In regards to that relationship, I don't think it's moved an inch for 5 years. If anything they seem to have gone back a few (several) steps.

I love them all, so no hate or shade to anyone, but the 1D's relationships with each other seem so fucking complex, it's hard to wrap your head around it.

#Seriously they seem really complicated #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #one direction #asks

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wildegreenlight · 5 years

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in case

A/N: First of all let me have a moment to bask in the glow of finishing/publishing two fics in one month (well, two “chapters” at least).

Ok, that’s better: when I was writing “just” I didn’t intend for it to be a multi chapter, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen next. So, here is the next installment, a dose of #pitp for my DEM crew.

As of now, this is still very much a canon, missing moments work (you know I’m a sucker for those), but I am not sure if I can keep myself off the AU ledge.

Thanks for the support, and likes, and reblogs (and violent gifs @jenn582), it really does butter my biscuit!

Also much love to @callieskye without whom I would probably be a much more responsible adult instead of obsessing over fictional characters (and plotting to lick mona lisas). First round is on me this weekend!

It was wrong, all wrong: not that he was really sure just how he’d pictured it. It wasn’t like he’d thought that hunting horcruxes would be easy or safe or hell, glamorous, but he had assumed that he’d be doing it with two functioning arms.

Now here he was again, flat on his back with her tending to him. Having an excuse to have her so close; her smooth, cool hands brushing back his hair from his fevered face, her nimble fingers gently adjusting his bandages, was most certainly not a bad thing, but it was not what he had wanted. He had wanted to be the one doing the tending. Not that he wanted her hurt, the thought made him literally sick to his stomach, but he needed to show her that she could depend on him. That night in his room, just a few weeks ago, he'd actually felt that for the first time she understood, really understood what he was saying, what he was feeling. Which was a special type of miracle considering how long it took him to understand it his own damn self.

He’d spent all of fourth year trying to actively not think about what made his friendship with Hermione so different from his one with Harry. Despite popular opinion, he had known she was a girl, in a vague sort of way. He'd also already known that he liked her as something more than just a friend. But that was the same with Harry: both had flown right past the “friends” category and into “family” long before that ill-fated ball. But as fifth year loomed, a realization came clawing at him: he wanted to snog Hermione, and that was most certainly not the same as Harry.

So the next year or so had been dedicated to the futile task of trying to convince himself that he wanted to snog a girl and that it was only because Hermione was around all the time that he wanted it to be her. It would have been a right decent plan too except for the fact that he never found himself wanting to kiss anyone else. Sure Fleur’s Veela death ray made his mind go fuzzy sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. When his soon-to-be sister-in-law left the room, the effect vanished. When Hermione left the room, it didn’t lessen his snog- wants in the slightest. In fact, as he learned in a spectacularly disastrous fashion, even snogging someone else didn’t cure it.

He didn’t want it to sound quite so insulting to Lavender: she really was a nice enough girl. And, if here were being completely honest, all the attention and all the kissing were nice at first, but even then it was like eating a tin of biscuits when you aren’t particularly hungry. You’re all like, Wicked! There’s biscuits! And you have a few, and they’re ok, because they are biscuits after all, but when you finish them you don’t feel particularly satisfied. So, just when he'd sussed out that in addition to loving Hermione in the same way that he loved Harry and his family, he had another, even deeper feeling that he wasn’t ready to name yet, he thought he had lost her altogether.

He guessed that love and magic were a lot alike. They were both frequently complicated, not everyone believed in them, and you didn’t always appreciate them until you couldn’t make them work. They were both also words that quite honestly got overused. Ron Weasley grew up in a home whose very fabric was love and magic. Being friends with Harry had taught him just how much he took them both for granted. It had been both of those forces that made his 17th birthday so memorable. He would like to think that he and Hermione would have worked it out, would have stopped being so stubborn without his near-death experience, but he wasn’t so sure.

After that day, he’d vowed to make it right. He knew it might be a long process, but she was worth it. Their friendship and whatever he might hope to build on that foundation, were worth it. They had made so much progress over the last few months: talking, planning, comforting one another. But now, he grimaced as he tried to adjust his position on the cot, he felt so useless. How could she depend on him if he could barely move?

Ron’s movement brought her to his side. She hovered over him, a tenderness in her eyes that most people didn’t know she possessed. He knew. It was one of the things he was most proud of: knowing the things about Hermione Granger that no one else did.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just hard to get comfortable.”

“Want to sit up for a bit?”

He nodded and braced himself. Changing positions was the worst, yet the best part of his injury. It hurt like hell, but if he blocked the pain out, he could enjoy having her wrapped so closely around him.

She bent down and hooked an arm underneath his good one. He took a moment to appreciate her proximity: the warm smell of her hair, the soft feel of her body touching his. He could almost let himself imagine all the things he should not be imagining. It had been the same during his poisoning recovery. It was a simple fantasy really: he would just turn back the covers beside him and she would climb in next to him. It didn't particularly matter what came next: anything, everything, or even nothing. It was the closeness he craved more than anything else.

Hermione pulled back slightly when she had his torso upright, “This better?”

“Can we shift a bit to the right?” he knew it wouldn’t be any more comfortable, but at least it ensured that she would hold on a bit longer.

“Sure,” Hermione seemed to be in no hurry to let go either. Once he was settled, she made no attempt to leave, staying instead on the edge of his bed.

For the millionth time he cursed his poor timing. If only they’d had a little more time to sort things before the world had gone sideways. More time? Are you mental...you’ve had actual, bloody years. It was like Charlie always said, Ron, you could fall into a cauldron full of tits and come out sucking your own thumb.

Charlie…at least maybe he was safe, in Romania, but what about the rest of them? What about Ginny and his mum and his dad and...

“Ron?” Her face was tight with concern.

“Oh, sorry...I was just thinking,” as much as he didn’t want her to worry about him, his heart still warmed at the fact that she did.

“About?”

“Jus’ my family,” it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her about it, and he wouldn’t lie, but he didn’t want to worry her any more than he had to.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she was doing her best to sound convincing, “at least you saw your dad at the Ministry so we know he is alright, and he wouldn’t have been there if anyone else was in trouble, right?”

“Guess so...makes sense.”

He had tried telling himself the very same thing, and it was a small comfort.

“And your mum and dad would know when it wasn’t safe...they would know when to go and what to do, this is even less new to them than it is to us.”

That was true. In an abstract way he knew what his parents had been through in the past, that they were part of the Order now, but it had never seemed as real to him as it did now. All the stories he’d heard growing up about his parents and the first war seemed to be just stories. He wondered if one day their children getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you? would feel the same way about their part in all this.

“Y'know, I’ve never really appreciated how much they’re risking, how dangerous it really is,” he searched for the right words, he didn’t want to scare her any more than he had to, “but after what we saw.”

She shuddered visibly, “I know, I just can’t get over how brave he is, going there every day.”

“Exactly! And we were only there a few hours,” he fought back a tiny wisp of panic, “I just wish I could do something.”

Hermione reached out and took his free hand with both of her smaller ones, “but you are!”

“Am I?” Self disgust saturated his question.

“Yes! I know that right now it doesn’t feel like it, but we are making progress, even if it’s not the way we planned.”

“I want to believe that...I just,” the feeling of her so close was suddenly overwhelming, and he found himself wondering if it might not be possible to just live the rest of their lives right there in that tent, “feel so bloody useless.”

“Don’t you think I feel that way too?”

“If you do, you shouldn’t,” how could she ever think such rubbish?

“I was worse than useless yesterday,” she glanced over at his bandaged arm, “I got you hurt.”

“You saved me, saved all of us! If you hadn’t been so quick...I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened!” He felt anger rising up through his chest and lodging in his clenched jaw.

“We were lucky, that’s for sure,” she smiled down at their clasped hands.

Luck always runs out.

Just a few days ago he had been so confident, so naive. Their trip to the ministry had opened his eyes to so many things. Even though he’d always been unaware of it consciously, he’d truly believed that his family’s blood status would keep them, keep him safe. He’d even thought foolishly that he could use that to protect Hermione. But then came the Cattermoles. He just couldn’t stop putting himself in Reginald Cattermole’s shoes. The thought of Hermione sitting in that courtroom while that toad smirked down at her...every time he thought about it, he wanted to puke. And Mary hadn’t even been anyone of real importance to Umbridge: how much worse would it be if she caught them? Could Hermione not see how bad this really was? Did he want her to?

“Hermione...I need you to listen to me, there’s something important I need you to promise me, ok?”

She studied his face, her eyes locking with his, “You know I would do anything you needed me to.”

Did he? For the most part, yes, but he knew she was not going to like what he was about to ask of her. He took a deep breath and continued before he lost his nerve.

“In case...in case something happens...to me,” he tried to finish, but the sight of tears in her eyes made him lose his momentum.

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was hard as steel, “don’t say that...don’t ever say that.”

“I have to...we have to...look, I’m going to do my damndest to stick around, to keep you safe, to keep all of us safe, but,” he ignored her shaking head, “but you have to promise me, in case something does happen.”

“Promise what exactly.’

“Promise me you will go.”

“Go where?”

“To Australia...to your parents,” it wasn’t ideal, but it was the best he could do.

“Leave Harry?”

“No...yes...damn it Hermione, I don’t know! I just want you safe.”

“I want you safe too, would you make that promise to me? Would you leave if something happened to me?”

“Don’t want to think about it,” he closed his eyes, swearing under his breath, “s’not a fair question really?”

“Why not? Why can you give me a “in case” and I can’t? ”

“Because in that “case” I can’t see myself giving a single fuck what happened to me,” a tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn’t try to stop it.

“Don’t you think I feel that way too?’

Did he? Isn’t that what he wanted? It was wonderful, awful thing...that she might, truly feel for him what he felt for her.

“What do we do, then?” that he had spoken the question aloud seemed to surprise her just as much as it did him.

“What we always do...keep each other going.”

“Keep each other safe.”

Ron’s fears were by no means assuaged, but he had learned when not to argue with Hermione. He knew there was no way to convince her, well, because there would be no way to convince him. As much as it might appear, on the surface, that they were different, he had grown to appreciate just how alike they really were.

“Do you want me to let you rest? I’ve got some reading to do, I could do it outside or,” she looked suddenly shy especially considering the gravity of their conversation, “I could stay here...in case.”

“In case?”

“Well, in case you need me.”

Hadn’t he all but spelled out to her just how much he did? How he couldn’t stand the thought of a world, magical or muggle, without her in it? Why was it so hard for her, for him, for them to let go of those last few scraps of insecurity?

“I think we have already established that’s always the case, even when I’m too pigheaded to admit it.”

The last thing Ron remembered before he drifted of to sleep, side effect of the pain potions, was Hermione resting securely in the crook of his arm as she read. He knew that it would not, could not last. That what they had seen at the Ministry was just the beginning of a long hard road. He prayed to anyone who might be listening that when their task was done, that he might have a lifetime to hold her just like this. But, just in case, he decided to enjoy every moment he had been given right now.

#hp #fanfic #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #r/hr #pitp #just

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cgirat · 4 years

Text

i’m not always proud

brain big so this is a bandersnatch (2018) and pride (2014) crossover fic purely because theyre both set in the 80s and i think that joe & stefan would be a sweet couple. title is from thos moser by gupi ft fraxiom because im like that

joe cooper/stefan butler

Pride 1985. Joe marches proudly; lesbians and gays do support the miners, it's an act of solidarity as they're both treated unfairly by the government and the police. It's the best feeling being proud of who he is because for so long he'd hidden it for fear of how his family might look at him, he was out to practically everyone but the people that were meant to be closest to him. Within just a few months a lot has changed, he's moved in with Stephanie, he's working at a café near Gay's the Word, the pastry chef likes him enough they Joe gets to help out sometimes and the activism is going well so life is really looking up. It's a new way of living and he's getting used to it and overall he's happy with it.

Love does not seem to be something that's going to happen for Joe. He deals with that as best as he can, he doesn't try and force anything, if he goes to the bars and a man there wants him he's okay to make out. But no one asks him out or seems to be looking for commitment, he gets it they're young and he's still early into adulthood so it's whatever.

A young man seems to be loitering after the march is over with his hands in his pockets, eyes wide open and lips set in a straight line. Joe sees him across the street while Steph's abandoned him for some goth lesbian and they make eye contact for a brief moment before he looks away. Joe finds him a weird kind of beautiful, something about him is sharp and Joe doesn't look away. He wouldn't have crossed the street towards the man if he hasn't looked back at Joe. Pride is as good a time as any to be friendly.

Close up the man is shorter than Joe. He's still weirdly handsome at this distance and his dark hair and green eyes are intriguing.

"Did you have fun at the march today?"

The dude looks startled if wide eyes are anything to go by. "Uhhh, well, I didn't catch much of it, I was just on my way back home, actually."

"Oh cool, you should come to next year's march it'll be bigger and better hopefully." Joe smiles politely, getting the cue that the dudes not like him and he's prepared to turn around until he hears him speak again.

"Stefan. Me, uh. I'm Stefan." Stefan falls over his words, smiling sheepishly, revealing rows of shark teeth. His smile is endearing. He puts his hand out for Joe to shake.

"I'm Joe." he accepts Stefan's hand in a shake and Joe notes that his hand is warm but his shake isn't very confident.

They smile at each other for a bit even though it's awkward when Stefan releases Joe's hand and his own retreats to the pockets of his jacket.

"Well if you're not in a rush home feel free to come to our post pride party. It's at Gay's the Word; last years was good so hopefully, this year will be too."

Stefan smiles again. It's toothy and contagious.

They spend the rest of the night getting to know each other. Stefan isn't as closed off as Joe was a year ago, he talks about work and geeks out over computers and video games. He works at Tuckersoft and has already developed a "choose your own adventure" game based off of a book that received decent reviews. Joe thinks he's probably being modest. When he talks about it it seems very complicated and Joe instantly knows that Stefan is way smarter than he'll ever be because he knows smart, educated people things. It's like looking into the past, Stefan is 20 and he's closeted? Straight? Joe doesn't want to ask as it's none of his business no matter how much he wants to kiss him a little.

Joe and Stefan walk arm in arm to the bus stop and stay linked there while waiting. Stefan is a little drunk and so he talks a lot but Joe welcomes it. Joe's laughing at Stefan who can't seem to get over the fact that Joe's nickname is so shit.

"Bromley, of all the town's to be named after-"

"Even now I wonder if it's meant to be cute or if they're taking the piss."

Stefan huffs out a laugh, "I'm thankfully uninteresting so I don't have any nicknames." He pauses. "Having two friends helps as well, one of them is my dad but he's not the nicknaming type."

"It's lonely in the office?"

"Very." Stefan rests his head on the glass of the bus shelter. "Especially today, I wasn't even supposed to be in but my therapist forgot to tell me that she'd moved my appointment to Tuesday so I went there instead. I bet she was at the march today." he pauses for a moment. "Why does she even do appointments on Saturdays? Overworking is my thing."

Joe can't take his eyes away from Stefan's face. His eyes are closed and his face glows in the orange of the street lights.

"She's a lesbian?" He may be curious but whatever Stefan goes to therapy for is none of his business. He wants to know, though, one day.

"I'm not sure, I didn't ask, but you know when you can kinda just tell?"

Joe gulps. "I didn't meet a lesbian until my 20th birthday."

Stefan laughs, eyes opening and staring at Joe incredulously. "Wow, you were incredible sheltered. Can't you just tell? Like Colin's girlfriend, I don't think she's a lesbian because she's dating him but something about her isn't.... Normal."

It's past midnight. June 30th. It's officially his birthday and Joe can't catch a break. "I'm Bromley, remember?"

Stefan's laugh is glorious to hear. It's aided by a few cans of beer but welcome nonetheless. "Well happy gay birthday Bromley." he laughs, gesturing to the pin on Joe’s jacket that he’d forgotten about. of course he blushes, that’s all he’s capable of doing.

Stefan’s bus comes too soon after that. Joe says that if ever he wants to meet up again he should just go to Gay's the Word and ask for him. Then he's gone. Joe's heart flutters.

The next time they get the opportunity to hang out Joe ends up going to Stefan's workplace. He brings pastries and coffee which Stefan's boss eyes and makes a point of mentioning how disrespectful Joe is to come to the offices without offerings. Like the weakling he is, he gives Thakur the pain au chocolat that was meant for himself. Stefan laughs to himself, even if he keeps his eyes trained on his monitor. He and Stefan spend the day there, Joe dicks around on the computer next to him and they talk easily about the game, the book and work. Stefan reveals he wasn't really planning on releasing any games after Bandersnatch but he just kept on living after its release and with nothing better to do he started coding again. Joe hates being presumptive but he sees why Stefan's seeing a therapist.

On the way out, they swing round the record shop.

"I told my dad about you. I told him I have three friends now..." But he quickly looks up looking for reassurance from Joe, "if that's alright with you. If we aren't friends he won't be surprised if the number goes down I'm not the easiest person to get along with so-"

"Of course we're friends. You compliment my baking and photography I'm an easy man."

"Really? How easy?"

Joe flushes.

"Bad joke, sorry I didn't take my medication."

"Your medication makes you less inquisitive to your friend’s private lives?"

"Well yeah. I found out most of what I know about Colin when I was flushing them."

"Funny how that works...."

Stefan rolls his eyes while he picks out a record. Pearl jam. Steph loves them.

Stefan's a welcome addition to his life. He's easy to get along with, not as loud as Joe's other friends and he makes time for Joe.

He's helping at the book shop (filling shelves, taking some books upstairs for storage) with Mark.

"Y'know Bromley, I'm surprised you have time to be here between work and that boyfriend of yours." He says offhand.

That strikes Joe because boyfriend? He's been single forever having never dated seriously. He tries to never think about that because he's only getting older. He pauses from flipping through the book that he's holding.

"Boyfriend?"

"The one from pride. How'd you not know your own partner, the one with the dark hair and leather jacket?"

"Stefan?" Joe can feel himself flushing. "We're friends, what?" He laughs nervously.

"Oh, poor naive Bromley. You sheltered folk sure do congregate." Mark laughs. It's a joke that Joe doesn't really get it. It's not funny because they're not into each other that way. Joe rationalises it to himself, how Stefan and him just wouldn't work out because Stefan seems preoccupied and Joe doesn't fight for attention. He won't.

#bandersnatch #stefan butler #joe cooper #pride 2014 #yeah still dont know why i wrote this im fgbcdnxm #when i just get an ao3 account like a normal person wayment #cgi writes

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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years

Text

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chp. 23″

Summary: Erik makes a discovery that changes the course of his family forever...

NSFW. Mature Audience. Smut.

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"Every once and awhile

I find myself going through a transition

Packing up, flying away again

Never knowing how or which way is up

Turning, Spinning high

Welcome to changes

No time to spare

Might as well get used to it

Welcome to changes

Blow with the air…"

Carleen Anderson – "Welcome to Changes"

Califia had known Dr. Barbara Davis since she was a child.

Therapy was something her grandmother insisted on after her father was arrested and sent to prison. Nana Jean understood that her granddaughter was traumatized and needed the professional help her mother couldn't give her.

Califia was grateful for the intervention and grateful to have used Dr. Davis services when she had a brutal fight with N'Jobu when they were in their twenties. It was the only time in their relationship where N'Jobu had laid hands on her. He was defending himself from her attack after he accused her of being a cheating slut. He claimed much later that he had been holding back, but she remembers him using ulwa on her without hesitation. Perhaps it was ingrained in him to protect himself with full force no matter who it was who attacked him.

Califia allowed the fingers of her left hand to fuss with the leather button on the couch she sat on in Dr. Davis's comfortable and welcoming office. Soft browns and mauves surrounded them with splashes of pink. Soothing colors in all the décor. Hanging plants with long green tendrils giving the space a safe feel.

Erik sat beside her, quiet, his hands in his lap as he waited for their session to begin.

N'Jobu had been home for months and their family had maintained a stable home life since his return. Califia had returned to work but she made sure she and Erik saw Dr. Davis twice a week.

"How are things going for you at school, Erik?"

Dr. Davis's kind eyes peered at him from her horn-rimmed glasses, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked at the boy. Erik's body shifted in his seat.

"Good," he said, "…better actually."

"How so?"

"I sleep better at home, so I'm…calmer…um, yeah…calmer at school. No more nightmares."

"That's good to hear. And you, Califia?"

Califia's eyes left Erik's face as she gazed at the therapist.

"I still get bad dreams…sometimes. Not of the attack, but just weird stuff that I can't remember when I wake up."

Dr. Davis scribbled some things down on a yellow notepad.

"What about N'Jobu? How has he been?"

"Good. He and Erik are going camping this weekend with Erik's friend Walter."

"We went to Disneyland a few weeks ago," Erik said. His face lit up at the memory.

Dr. Davis went over some new breathing techniques with them and showed them how to quickly assess their anxiety levels with each other. It hurt Califia so much that Erik suffered from some of the same problems that she grappled with as a child. Intergenerational trauma was no joke, and she worried that she had passed down so much of her pain to her son. Erik had always been a joy to raise, a sensitive little one who felt deeply, but Lia's assassination had opened a wound that accelerated anxiety in him. He was also showing signs of obsessive-compulsive behavior. She could see the stress in him as he tried in his own way to still process and live with what he witnessed.

Their fifty-minute session went by quickly and while Dr. Davis put away her notes, Califia felt her heart- rate go up.

"Erik, do me a favor, could you wait out in the next room. I want to schedule some things with your mother real quick," Dr. Davis said.

Erik nodded, hopped off the couch, and disappeared into the waiting room.

"Califia…what is it?"

Califia finally allowed her tears to flow freely. She kept them in so Erik wouldn't see them, struggling to look normal for him as he left the space.

"I'm messing him up," she said, her voice shuddering from suppressing her emotions from Erik.

"What makes you say that?"

Dr. Davis handed Califia a tissue to wipe her eyes.

"My entire life has been nothing but pain and struggle and mental health issues. I see what it's doing to him. I'm setting my baby up for failure. He's become so rigid about things and he treats me like I'm the child sometimes. He always checks to make sure I'm okay. I'm supposed to be doing that for him!"

She threw her hands over her face unable to stop herself from weeping. "I've fucked up my son—"

"No…you haven't done that—"

"You see how he is—"

Dr. Davis pulled Califia's hands from her face.

"Let me tell you about your son. Erik witnessed a horrific event. But he is resilient. He has an absolute innate sense of justice. He believes strongly in fairness. He has a protective nature about him. His heart is so big and loving that he wants to make sure his Mommy is okay too."

Califia sat back on the couch still clutching the tissue in her hand.

"Parents can pass down anxiety—"

"That can happen. Erik has been displaying symptoms of an overactive brain, but it's nothing we can't work to improve. He's a brilliant child with big thoughts and ideas going on. He's learning to focus in much calmer ways so don't get yourself so worked up. Your coming here with him is the best thing you are doing to help him and yourself. His coping behaviors are simply coping behaviors. He could outgrow them over time—"

"What if he doesn't?"

"Let's focus on right now. Stressing over the future or the past is what keeps you stuck Califia. We work on that with you, and Erik will be fine. The fact that he sees you here doing your best to get well mentally only encourages him to do the same. You have to stay focused on the present with him now. Be mindful of the progress you both have made. Think of all the support you have from your family. Especially N'Jobu."

"Erik…he's my best thing, y'know?"

"I know."

"I worry so much about him. Parents are supposed to protect their children—"

"We live in the real world, Califia. You can't shield Erik from everything that happens, but you can be a pillar of strength and unconditional love for him. He can face anything when you and N'Jobu give him that."

Dr. Davis handed her another tissue and Califia tried to fix her face before going out to Erik.

Her son's eyes sought out hers the moment she walked out and he saw that they were pink from crying.

"You okay, Mom?"

"I am. Ready to go?"

"Yes."

She was mentally drained from the session and drove herself and Erik to visit N'Jobu at the shop. He was managing two new locations and they caught him as he returned to the original Drizzy's Kuts.

N'Jobu's eyes always lit up when he saw them and the moment they stepped into the shop, his arms were around her waist in greeting and he was touching Erik's hair.

"Hey, wasn't expecting you two to pop in," he said.

Califia sat in an open booth chair as Erik greeted three of the other barbers working on customers.

"Can I leave Erik here with you while I run over to see Rolita?"

"Sure. Is everything okay?"

"I got a text from her about meeting at her place with some of the women from Rise Up. Shouldn't take that long. An hour or two."

"Dinner at Nana's still?"

"Yeah."

She kissed his cheek and waved to Erik as she left. Needing Erik to be with the stronger parent right at the moment was important. She needed time with Rolita to lift herself up away from Erik. It was almost like he had extrasensory empath powers, able to read emotions and feelings from people just by looking in their eyes and taking on their weight. It was scary sometimes.

Rolita greeted her at her home with four other women from Rise Up and two men from a local Black activist group. There were snacks laid out in the living room and Califia ate chips from a paper plate with salsa. The mood in the room was solemn.

One of the men pulled out a laptop and showed the women a web page with a list of photos and names. Rolita sat next to Califia and took a deep breath.

"Activists are being murdered," Rolita said.

Califia felt the tension in the room rise.

"Misha Browning was found two hours ago," Rolita said and there was a gasp in the room from everyone.

Califia closed her eyes and steeled her nerves. Misha was a woman Califia had only known and interacted with online in cyber activist spaces. They had coordinated national action plans on police brutality and domestic terrorist attacks on immigrants and mutant humans. She had gone missing a few days previous and word spread by the police was that she had a domestic dispute with a boyfriend and disappeared soon after. But her boyfriend, a man Califia had met in person at a climate change conference in Fresno after she graduated university, was staying on a Scottish Island for a fellowship prior to Misha's disappearance.

There was a pattern.

Up until that moment, ten activists that Califia interacted with personally or knew of through online spaces nationally were dead. Seven of the dead were reported to have committed suicide. Four Black men and two Black women, and two Native women from the Pine Ridge Nation active with pipeline and environmental protests and civil disobedience. Three of them were said to have been murdered under suspicious circumstances. Their mental health was scrutinized and most of the newsfeed on them was swept away. Prominent and vocal activists. Killing themselves?

And now Misha. Found face down under Ohio river debris fifty miles away from her home.

Califia could only think of Lia and then her own self. Rolita too. They were mothers with young children. They were mothers trying to make the world safe for their babies. Could they be targeted next? Could they show up dead and the world told that they committed suicide? It wasn't unthinkable that an activist could kill themselves. Mental health was something they all grappled with and sometimes the world beat them down until killing oneself seemed like a good option. But ten people? Now eleven? Within two years?

Califia sat back in her seat. The rest of her time there long. And painful.

###

N'Jobu sat with Erik at his great-grandmother's kitchen table as he watched his son disassemble yet another one of his robotic toys. Erik had figured out a way to hack into the software of the original robotic programming and rebuild a new larger robot combining four different toys and the pieces of scrap metal his grandfather found for him. He placed the final pieces of the disassembled robot onto the final product.

Erik routed power to his new creation with a handheld and tried to get the strange-looking franken-robot to pick up a mug filled with tea and raise it up to N'Jobu's mouth. A set of spoons and a fork sat on the dining table waiting to be used by the robot to lift up a scoop of fruit loops and pick up sliced mango pieces.

"Be still, Baba." Erik said moving the levers in his hand.

N'Jobu sat still, but the tea mug didn't seem secure in the robot hand as small drops of the liquid spilled from the cup.

"I'm still, Son," he said trying not to laugh as the robot hand grew more unsteady.

"Stop laughing at it, you'll hurt the Daka 3000's feelings," Erik said.

"Oh, you changed its name again. Won't your mother be upset? The Cali 3000 was a nice-sounding name."

"Inventors name things after themselves."

"Why not JaJa 3000?"

"Too soft-sounding. The Daka in my middle name sounds hardcore…Baba, c'mon, be still!"

N'Jobu was leaning back in his seat, his hands up to catch the mug if it dropped.

"I have to perfect this by next week to be ready."

"Is Walter entering the science fair?"

"Yeah, he's working on something."

"You're not going to tell me about it?"

"It's boring."

"Don't say that about your friend."

"It is!"

"Tell me about it."

The robotic arm made it up to the front of N'Jobu's face with the mug. Erik did his best to ease it closer, but it was too jerky. He took a pause and stared at N'Jobu.

"He's making a display of fabrics that can be used to make flak jackets. Bulletproof—"

"So military science—"

"No, clothes for kids. So they won't be shot dead in school."

Whoa.

N'Jobu stared at Erik.

"He's really doing that?"

"Yeah. Lame."

"I don't think it's lame…just…that's pretty hardcore, Son."

"Compared to this? I'm creating a robot that can help the elderly in their homes. Open their pill bottles when they can't, feed them, and help put things away…but Walter's anti-kill clothes is hardcore. Serious Baba?"

"You both have created hardcore things."

"Kids shouldn't have to make clothes like that."

"I agree—"

"Like, make clothes that can let you fly or something…"

Frustrated, Erik snatched the mug from the robot's hand.

"I can't get this to move smoother. I'll have to take it apart. Wish I could get some nanobots for this…"

"Do you want to try the spoon or fork again? That did really well."

"Nah. Thanks for being my experimental human."

"Glad to be of help. Do me a favor though."

"Yeah?"

"Be supportive of Walter. He's trying to make something to help other children. Grown-ups are the blame for that, and it's a shame that a child his age wants to make something like that because we suck, but he is doing something he thinks is a good thing. Support that."

Erik stared at him and nodded his head.

"Who knows, maybe you both will make it to the Stark Expo. That would be exciting."

Erik grinned.

He was so determined to make his robot work. Not just for the Expo.

For Nana Jean.

His son's great-grandmother was ailing. Today she was having a good day and strong enough to make a Friday night fish fry. Relatives were coming over, and everyone was determined to make it a joyous evening of good food and family fun.

N'Jobu could see that the older woman was having a hard time with her health. Her once vibrant face was appearing a bit dull the last few months, and her already thin frame was looking gaunter. She was experiencing bouts of anger when she couldn't do a lot of things by herself like she used to. Like driving. She was having trouble with her hands, periodic shakiness and pain making it difficult for her on some days. But not today. Today she was cooking with the assistance of Erik and N'Jobu.

Erik picked up the tools he used to tweak the wires on his robot when he suddenly reached out and tapped on N'Jobu's kimoyo beads.

"It's lighting up, Baba!"

N'Jobu saw the emergency silver lighting on his beads. They warmed up his wrist.

"I've never seen that color before," Erik said, his eyes glued to his wrist.

The past three years he had told his son his beads were like mood rings and could change colors at will. But he was right. Silver was a new color. Silver was a signal from his fellow rogue War Dogs. Something was wrong.

"Clean this up, and we'll start making the batter for the fish and shrimp," he said.

Pushing back from the table, N'Jobu headed to a guest bedroom, Junie's old room, and locked the door.

"D'Beke," N'Jobu said, watching the man's shape hover over his wrist.

"We have found Klaue. He is ready to move into Wakanda. The time has come your Highness."

N'Jobu shut his eyes and sat on the guest bed.

"Send out a code three, and make sure all cells are on code. No more communications until you all hear from me. Understand? Send me Klaue's contact. We have to be…we have to be…D'Beke if anyone acts suspicious…end them."

"Yes, Prince N'Jobu."

D'Beke winked out and N'Jobu felt his body tremble with excitement and nervous energy.

The time had come to act. No more planning. Action.

"Wakanda Forever," he whispered.

###

Califia felt beyond stuffed. She rubbed her belly from all the shrimp she consumed. Hot, juicy, greasy, salty-sweet delicious shellfish fresh from the skillet. N'Jobu rubbed his belly and Califia watched Erik help Nana Jean fry up more shrimp in cornmeal batter this round.

"Nana. I can't eat anymore," she said.

Nana dropped shrimp into a fry strainer and Erik lowered it and stood back when the grease popped. Nana dropped more shrimp into the bowl filled with the batter.

"Someone will," Nana said, her frame so much smaller from how Califia always saw her as a little girl. She felt it deep down. No one else in the family wanted to say it outright, and Nana Jean was not forthcoming with her health, but Califia knew. Her great-grandmother was battling something and trying so hard to stay on the earth for Erik. That was her child. He may have come out of Califia's body, but Erik was her baby

Erik's mind was set on going to the Stark Expo in New York. He had come so close last year, making it to a semi-final status and receiving a signed certificate from Tony Stark himself. She and N'Jobu had to nurse him through a mini-temper tantrum when he didn't get to be a finalist. He pouted for weeks and wouldn't even hang up his certificate in his room that Nana Jean had framed for him. N'Jobu had to have a sit down with him and remind him of how many people, children, and adults had submitted projects and didn't even make it to the quarter-finals. She remembered the title of his abstract too, "Novel Subtle Acoustic Communication: Successful Elucidation of the Cryptic Ecology of Runner Plant Bugs with Emphasis on Their Stridulatory Mechanisms". He spent three months capturing the faint sound of bugs. Bugs that he had crawling all over his bedroom when a few escaped by accident. She shivered at the memory.

Califia had to chime in and show him the certificate.

"Tony Stark really signed this. A busy man like him took the time to sign something acknowledging your hard work. You should be proud of yourself."

It wasn't until Erik went online to see how many people had entered projects did his own parent's words kick in. There were only twenty-five semi-finalists for his category and his face beamed when he announced, "Just over half a million people entered globally."

For the new year, he switched from acoustics to robotics hoping to be a finalist. And he focused on something more personal, and close to home: Nana Jean.

That big ole heart of his wanted to make his Nana as self-sufficient for as long as possible with a personal elder care robot.

N'Jobu watched her closely after she rubbed her belly and caught his eye. Her mood hadn't been the best when she arrived at the house. The meeting at Rolita's was tough on her psyche and she almost opted to go home and sleep until her grandmother called Rolita reminding her to bring her daughter Neveah.

Erik's cousins and Neveah ran around the front room while Erik cooked at the stove.

"JaJa, go be with the other kids, I'll help Nana."

Erik nodded and she watched her grandmother pat his head.

"Nana, for reals, I don't think anyone else can eat more. Take a break and spend time out front too."

"Dayclean is still eating," she said.

"I am done, Nana. Go relax, we'll take care of all of this."

N'Jobu stood up and cleared the dishes left on the table as a few of Califia's Uncles cleaned up after themselves before heading to the den to watch TV.

"You good?" N'Jobu asked.

"Better."

"Erik told me you looked upset leaving your session today. Want to talk about it?"

"It was nothing serious…really. I was just feeling a way. Venting."

"Did it help?"

"I think so."

He rinsed dishes and stacked them in the new dishwasher they bought for Nana three years ago once they saw she had trouble with her hands.

She finished putting leftovers in the fridge and when she looked at N'Jobu again, his gentle eyes broke her down.

"Let's go in the back," he said when he saw her eyes well up with water.

The house was busy and no one paid them any mind going to the back guestroom. It was quiet back there. N'Jobu locked the door and they both sat on the bed.

Califia wiped her eyes.

"He is too much like me. And I am afraid for him."

"Califia—"

She touched his hand.

"His quick temper. His anxiety. His need to be in control…this compulsion to make things perfect…it's not healthy…and living here, and seeing Lia…I have damaged him."

N'Jobu stayed quiet and she was grateful. Over the years he had to learn how to let her talk things out and not try to offer immediate solutions as he was want to do all the time. She just needed to be heard. Just wanted to let her words linger openly so she could work through her pain.

"I worry about how he will deal with the trauma later in life. Kids bounce back. I know this. Better than adults. But he…you know this about him…he feels too deeply. This world will break his heart N'Jobu. People like that suffer more than most."

N'Jobu continued to listen as he held her hand.

"I worry about him. I told Dr. Davis this. I worry that he has inherited my pain. I pray and pray that he can be more like you, like…if I could take the worst aspects of myself and remove that from his DNA—"

"Stop."

N'Jobu's eyes were watery. He stroked her face.

"I don't want you thinking like this. I don't want you to carry this in your heart. Take parts of you out of him? He wouldn't be who he is without those parts of you. I know I'm supposed to let you feel what you feel, but my son…our son? He is perfect. He is his own person. That is an Udaku Prince out there and you make him perfect. Understand?"

"I want to believe you, I might believe you if…."

"If what?"

"If you would take us to Wakanda. It has to be safer and better there. You heard what Rolita told you at dinner. It's bad out here. You heard about Walter's science project. Fuck is that? Fuck kind of world are we living in. How can we protect Erik? What if something happens to him? What if something happens to us? Who would take care of him? Who would be capable of caring for a child like ours? Huh? Tell me."

"Babe—"

"Why won't you take us away from here? My baby is a Prince. He deserves to live in a world without fear, or where his best friend doesn't make bulletproof t-shirts for his peers. Don't you want him to have the life you had growing up?"

N'Jobu pulled her in with a tight hug when the tears really started flowing down her face. She was so tired.

"My love, don't cry, please…don't cry…"

It was the same quiet fight they had over the years. His refusal to take them home.

They weren't welcome. She knew this. Deep down they were not wanted in his world, and yet it was the only one that could save them. And she didn't understand why he prevented them from contact. Not even a visit. Their son was learning Wakandan. Memorized their alphabet. Practiced writing his name, even practiced a little speech he wanted to give in front of his royal grandparents when they would meet. Even had a gift he made for his cousin Prince T'Challa, a little necklace that would hold secret-coded messages between them.

And yet…

Here they sat with her crying about it once more.

They left the bedroom and joined the rest of the family to eat pound cake and watch Wheel of Fortune, everyone shouting at the tv their guess's at the puzzles. Neveah and Erik giggled like crazy whenever her father Dante guessed words that clearly were made up to make them laugh.

Once they returned home, Erik put away his robot, and she and N'Jobu dressed for bed. They allowed Erik to lounge in bed with them until it became way past his bedtime. She caught that mood from N'Jobu that he wanted to make love, but Erik kept prolonging his stay in their bed by negotiating for extra time with them. They allowed him to watch another half hour of the SyFy channel until he was knocked out and snoring with his head resting on Califia's stomach.

"Hey, buddy, time to wake up," N'Jobu said nudging Eric gently on the shoulder.

"Thirty more minutes," Erik whispered, his eyes wide as if he hadn't been snoring a minute ago.

"So you can sleep again? Go to sleep in your room. I need some Mommy time," N'Jobu said. He started pushing Erik away from Califia.

"Mom!" Erik whined pushing N'Jobu's hands away and trying to stay on her stomach.

"It's two in the morning, JaJa," Califia said stroking his braids.

"Then I should be able to stay since the sun will be up in five hours."

"If you don't get," N'Jobu said pulling on one of Erik's braids.

"Ow, Baba! I know why you really want me gone…you wanna kiss Mom and do the nasty!"

"Boy!" Califia said, a shocked expression on her face as she play slapped his arm.

"Yes, now get," N'Jobu said.

"I can't believe that came out of your mouth," Califia said.

"Why are you being embarrassed?" Erik teased.

"Time for you to get out of grown folks business," Califia said lifting him off of her stomach.

Erik finally rolled over and stood from their bed.

"Y'all some haters, man, for real," he said.

His dimples melted her.

"Who is this child? Where is my sweet JaJa?" she said.

Erik leaned back over the bed and kissed her cheek.

"Night Mom," he said.

"Night, Baby. Sleep well," she answered.

Erik gave his father a sly look as he sauntered out of their room backward.

"I'll just close this so I can get some rest," he said as he grabbed their doorknob and shut it behind him.

"Okay, maybe we should take some of your DNA out of him," N'Jobu said as he wiggled out of his pajama bottoms.

"That was all you, nigga," she said staring as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

He tugged on her nightgown and she brushed his hands away.

"We can't do it now," she said glancing at the bedroom door.

"Why not?'

"Because he knows that's what we're doing—"

"I don't care, just put the pillow over your mouth," he said pulling the bed covers back and raising up her gown to her hips. She widened her legs and allowed him to lick her vulva slowly, but then she felt self-conscious. Kept glancing at their bedroom door making her stomach tense.

"I can't, not yet," she whispered.

"Babe, stop being silly. I want to make you feel good after a tough day…shit…pussy wet already."

His tongue rested just under her clit as her ring poked out from the engorgement of the slick bud. He gave light pulses there and her legs shot up, her thighs falling open.

"Get the lube," he said stroking his dick.

Reaching into her drawer she pulled out cherry flavored lube. She coated her vulva and opened her wet inner lips for him.

Tongue darting in and out and smearing his lips with her arousal, Califia held N'Jobu's head.

"Let's just do a quickie," she said.

"Quickie, longie, I just need to be in my pussy," he said shifting his body to line up with hers. He inserted his erection and she gasped out loud.

"I'm about to fuck you real good," he hissed in her ear.

Califia stuffed her left hand over her mouth as her right arm held his shoulder in a death grip.

"God, baybee—"

"Mmmmm—"

"Wait, not so hard, the headboard is banging against the wall—"

"Fuck that wall—"

"The noise—"

N'Jobu lifted up and watched his dick slide into her.

They had been working and caring for Nana Jean and Erik so much that it had been a couple of weeks since they had last had sex. And this quickie was just what they needed. If N'Jobu didn't waste any time kissing her, she knew he was desperate to get in her stuff. He couldn't go very long without some sexual contact with her.

"Look at your dick, Jobu," she encouraged, his face so intent on watching her pussy grip his length. His dick was shiny, his dark coloring magnificent. She felt sorry for people who couldn't have Black dick like this filling them up. He was ready to split her in two. She needed this. Needed him. Needed to get her mind off of her troubles.

He pulled out and positioned himself on his side behind her. His hands gripped her breasts but her gown kept slipping down.

"Take it off," he said and she removed it over her head and tossed it on the side.

White light under the door.

Erik was still up.

Califia dropped her head to one of her pillows and bit into it. She could hear how gushy her pussy was, could hear N'Jobu trying his best to keep his voice down but to no avail.

"Damn…damn…," N'Jobu grunted, his hands tightening around her breasts.

"Yes, baby."

"I missed this pussy, girl. We gotta stop playing and make time for us…oh shit…"

"Jobu—"

"Where you want it, baby? I'm ready to cum…oh…Califia…where you want this nut?"

"In my mouth," she said.

"Okay…okay….," he panted.

He kept stroking his dick in her pussy, hitting the side of her walls hard.

His pace picked up, and for a second she thought he would cum inside her because he didn't seem willing to leave her hot folds.

"Turn around!" he shouted.

Yanking out of her, he stroked his thickness as she turned around and lowered her face to his cock.

"Open your mouth…oh shit…baby open your mouth!"

Mouth Open. Tongue out.

N'Jobu slapped his dick on her tongue, his eyes swimming with an all-consuming carnality. Her own fingers plucked at her clit and when his release splashed all in her mouth, she gulped his cum down as her sugar walls clenched from an intense orgasm.

She swallowed everything he gave her, and he spent some time licking between her legs again and giving her another orgasm.

She was about to enjoy the third orgasm from his mouth when a brilliant blue light spilled under their bedroom door.

"N'Jobu!" she cried out.

He turned his head and saw the brilliant fluorescent blue. His eyes shifted in a way she had never seen before.

He leaped up and put on his pajama bottoms. She threw her gown back on and followed him out of their bedroom.

Erik's bedroom door was open, the dazzling blue array coming from there.

"Erik!" N'Jobu shouted.

Their son stood in the middle of his bedroom. N'Jobu's Wakandan beads were on his wrist, the blue light bleeding out from it.

"Baba!"

Erik tried pressing down on a bead.

"Don't do anything else!" N'Jobu said.

But it was too late.

Erik twisted one of the beads and the brilliant blue light filled the entire room and a large holographic image floated above Erik's wrist.

A street scene.

People walking on elevated sidewalks.

Space ships flying in the air.

Black people dressed in ways they had never seen before.

"N'Jobu, what is this? What is that?" she whispered with awe in her voice.

Erik's eyes studied the images and he took his free hand and stuck it inside the field of blue light. It expanded and different color-rich scenes played like a series of split screens spinning in a circle.

A cityscape.

And a futuristic structure that looked like a double palace…

"It's Wakanda," Erik said.

His fingers flicked an image up over his head. It looked like a billboard advertising a car they had never seen before in the world. The lettering was all Wakandan.

Erik's bright eyes stared at her.

"It's Baba's home!"

###

Chapter 24

Tag List”

@fd-writes @soufcakmistress @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514 @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling @chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry @honeytoffee

#black boys bloom thorns first volume 2 #n'jobu #n'jadaka #erik stevens #black panther fanfiction #black panther smut #killmonger #when killmonger was a boy

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scenarioslovers · 6 years

Text

The wager >> V, you

This was requested by anon. Hi anon, sorry it took too long for this to be done. hope you like it.

Helping with editing my lovely friend @icedtaee Thank you so much dear :D

It was the first time you had ever fallen in love with someone.

Today, you had a plan in mind to have a romantic lunch break with the boy that made your heart flutter, you had prepared a lunch box for both you and him; even making a heart shape with the food. (Something you would cringe at if you saw someone else do it.)

You sighed dreamily as you admitted it to yourself. You had totally fallen head over heels for Kim Taehyung, the hottest boy in your school.

Despite being the girl who did not believe in love and instead believed that school was more important, Taehyung had changed your mind for the better. He made you believe in things you didn’t expect to believe in. He made you feel things you’d never felt before.

If someone saw you a month before meeting Taehyung, they would point fingers at you calling you a freaking nerd, some even said that you’d do black magic to get high grades and to keep boys away from you.

You always had your hair braided with bangs to hide your eyes this was basically because you had no time to straighten your hair every morning. Due to your really bad eyesight, you had to wear glasses as big as your face, doctors had even suggested getting surgery to make your eyesight better. Your clothes were…well let’s just not talk about that.

In conclusion, you were the most plain girl in the school.

But after meeting Taehyung, things just changed.

Now, however, your hair cascaded over your shoulders in beautiful curly lockets. You still had your thick glasses and never got ones that fit your face.

Your appearance had changed and Taehyung was the one who helped you with it, always telling you, “You have really beautiful eyes, why are you hiding them?”

He was the sweetest person on Earth which made you ignore all the rumors that were surrounding him.

Then on that day, in that moment you were so happy that you couldn't hope for more. You just wished you had actually listened to the rumors.

Inside the classroom, Taehyung was sitting on one of the desks. Everyone was already out of class, playing or watching the club’s activity or doing anything that didn’t involve being in the classroom. Between his legs, a girl was standing wrapped in his arms, their lips locked in a passionate kiss that you had never experienced before. Her hands were in his hair and his were roaming over her body.

You felt sick to your stomach. It felt as if someone had punched you so hard that you tasted rust in your mouth. You wanted to run away, you didn’t want to watch this but your legs couldn’t move. It felt as if they were glued into the floor, a cold sweat running down your spine.

All the rumors that you heard kept running round your mind like a rushing wave of heat, burning you out.

“Taehyung is never in a serious relationship.”

“He has a lot of girls and he is a total player.”

“I really wish he would notice me, I wouldn’t mind kissing him once.”

“He is the devil.”

Stupid, you scolded yourself feeling like a true idiot.

It was the girl who noticed your presence first and you recognized her right away. She is the same girl with short hair who tried to be your friend at the beginning of the school year, seeing you didn’t surprised her, she just smirked as she wrapped her arms around Taehyung whose back was facing you.

“Y'know Tae, Y/N is really in love with you.” You tensed when you heard your name being mentioned and it made you want to stay. You wanted to know how Taehyung was going to respond.

“She was actually so easy to get,” A sound of something cracking was heard and you didn’t need a confirmation to know that it was your heart as Taehyung continued, “Well, it is my charm that no one can resist after all.”

Another smirk as she glanced at your way then back at Taehyung, “Since you won the bet, now you can go out with me.”

Taehyung expression hardened as he removed her arms away from him. “Let’s not begin with this again, Ka—” Taehyung froze. A heat wave hit him, filling him whole as his mouth fell open. You heard everything.

You were standing here and heard everything.

SHIT.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He said, nervously as he approached you slowly.

“I—” you gulped trying hard not to cry in front of him. There was a great pain in your chest that made it hard for you to breathe and your throat was hurting from holding in the tears.

“I made you lunch, you must be hungry.” You said as you gave him the lunch box that you made.

“Oh...thanks.” He grabbed the box and you noticed how his hand was shaking. Or was it just your imagination?

Feeling that there was no place for you here anymore, you tried as much as you could to smile. You hated the idea that love had defeated you. You only got emotional when you did not do well in the exam which never happened. “I will go then. Sorry I got in the way.”

“Y/N!” You heard him calling but you had already ran out of the class and hid yourself in a place where no one can find you.

Taehyung still wasn’t sure what was going on. He only snapped out when Kathy tried to take the lunch box from him.

“You knew she was here?” His voice had a hint of anger laced through it.

“She had to know it already, Tae,” Kathy snapped, her face turning red. “You already won the bet a month ago, why are you still dating her?”

“It doesn’t concern you and she didn’t have to know.”

“Did you fall in love with her, Kim Taehyung?” Kathy was annoyed to the point that smoke was blasting out of her ears.

Taehyung was quiet for a few moments before meeting Kathy’s eyes. “It doesn’t concern you.”

“Then why?” It actually surprised him to see her eyes beginning to water. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged, taking the lunch box to leave but before he could take another step, Kathy snatched the lunch box and threw it on the floor. The box snapped open and the food; rice, rolled omelet and some vegetables spilled all over the floor.

“YAH!” Taehyung shouted but before he loses his temper anymore, the bell rang and the kids started to walk into the class again.

“I am not going to let you go, Taehyung. You love her?” Kathy scoffed. “I will make sure she will never smile ever again.”

Without thinking, Taehyung grabbed Kathy by her shirt, his jaw tight. Then at that same moment, the teacher came in and glared at both of them. Kathy smirked as he let go of her.

Coward, she mouthed before walking off.

“Kim Taehyung, I don’t think it is very gentlemanly to put your hand on a girl.” The teacher said and Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Go back to your seat.”

Taehyung noticed that you didn’t return to class that day or any day after that.

It had been a week and Taehyung wished he would’ve followed you, stopped you and explained everything that had happened.

But what was to explain? It was his fault.

Another week passed and there was still no sight of you, until one day you appeared again. However, the you he once knew was gone and had been replaced with someone else completely. Your hair was shorter and it was straightened. You had gotten rid of your glasses and wore a bright red lipstick. Your clothes had also gotten shorter, which made Taehyung clench his fists as boys eyes followed you as you walked around.

“Hi everyone.” The shy, the introverted you was gone.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung grabbed your elbow, his eyes were hard on you..

“Oh look who it is,” You smiled widely as you grabbed his face in your hands. “The boy who made me fall in love with him, why? Because he made some bet and thought I was easy.” Your voice became lower, calmer it sent chills down Taehyung’s spine. “Well, congratulations, Taehyung. You weren’t wrong.”

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