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wonijinjin · 1 year

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thinkin’ about you

author’s note: inspired by the song ‘thinkin’ about you’ by seventeen. also, this fic will probably get a second part, because i just cannot leave this on a cliffhanger without a sequel, that would be a shame

update: second part of this fic can be found here.

synopsis: you drinking a little too much and calling joshua to take you home wasn’t the best idea, or was it?

word count: 1.2k | genre: fluff, mutual pining, kinda slowburn, the tiniest bit of hurt/comfort and angst, close friends to something more | pairing: joshua x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of alcohol and being tipsy/drunk, the curse word ‘fuck’

your exam season at university was finally over, and to celebrate passing your tests you and your friends decided on going out to party at a club in the city. it was already past midnight, the party going on for several hours at that point, when you started to get really tired, having had multiple shots and cocktails, but your friends insisted on staying a bit longer. you could feel yourself get tipsier by the minute so you thought the safest option would be going home before you did something stupid or embarrassing you would regret in the morning. you took out your phone and dialed the first number that came to mind, your close friend’s, joshua’s. while waiting for him to pick up the phone your messy thoughts wondered to your long existing not so platonic feelings for him. he made your heart jump every time you thought about him, which was almost always, not just due to your feelings, but because you spent a lot of time with him on a daily basis as he was a very dear person to your heart. you have known him for as long as you can remember, and he was truly the most amazing friend you had, always being there for you, always treating you with so much care. he was like this with most of his friends, he cherished people around him and never took them for granted, you really admired him for this. you sometimes hated loving him, because it was so difficult to keep your emotions to yourself for this exact reason. who could blame you though? he was all anyone would wish for in a partner, kind, intelligent, considerate, caring.

“hello? y/n? what’s up?” he said as he picked up, voice hoarse, laced with sleep. “ah were you sleeping? sorry, should’ve known you need your beauty sleep to be this handsome.” you slurred, clearly more drunk than you thought. “were you drinking?” he questioned “are you hurt or something?” his voice sounded concerned. you laughed at this “nooo silly, i am perfectly fine, i had so much fun” there was a moment of silence before you continued “…but i need a favor, all my friends want to stay here longer, so i need a ride home. no way i’m getting into a car driven by a stranger, plus i don’t even have enough money for a taxi.” you expected him to say no, after all, it was in fact the middle of the night and he clearly had better plans on how to spend his. he sighed on the other end of the line “fine, i would much rather drive you home than letting you ask a stranger from the club to do it when you are clearly wasted as fuck.” he said while shuffling echoed in the phone, indicating that he was already getting up and changing. you knew he was right; you were not in the best shape. maybe the last margarita was a bit too much? “thank you shua baby.” the nickname slipped out on accident and if you were sober you would’ve gasped and started apologising right away, saying that he should forget about this, but you couldn’t really care less in that moment. you could hear the hitch in his breathing and the tension in his voice when he said goodbye over the phone, asking for your location and saying he would text you when he was there. you wondered; maybe drinking was a good decision, maybe getting a bit bold with words is what you needed as encouragement to tell him the secret you’ve been hiding for quite a while now, maybe you should really confess to him while you are not scared of the consequences.

20 minutes later you got the text from him and you were ready to leave. your confident march from the entrance to the car failed though when you tripped over your own feet, almost breaking half of your bones in the process. “oh my god y/n how much did you drink?” someone asked while helping in restoring your balance. you knew it was joshua right away, that voice cannot be mistaken for anybody else. “a little too much, i think?” you giggled. joshua took you to his car and opened the door for you to climb into the passenger seat. “wow thank you this is so fancy i feel like royalty.” you commented, still grinning. “well i do feel like a personal chauffeur now, coming here just to be taking your ass home. let’s go, put that leg inside so we can go, your highness.” he demanded while grabbing your leg, tired of waiting for you to clumsily get into the vehicle.

after he shut the door and got in himself to start the engine you two sat in silence for a little while before you spoke up. “i’m really sorry you have to take me home, i know i was selfish for asking, but i really didn’t have a better plan. i didn’t feel like i was this drunk when i was inside, but sitting here made me regret having the last drinks.” he looked at you at the red light. “look, i don’t mind this, really. you are one of my best friends, i would do this a hundred times if it meant you got home safely and some weirdo didn’t kidnap you or something. also, you thinking about me first when asking for help is quite flattering too you know.” he smirked. you nodded, eyes getting heavy suddenly from all that partying. “i can see you almost falling asleep. there’s a jacket on the back seat if you want it as a makeshift blanket. i will wake you when we get there. go to sleep y/n.” you didn’t bother to search for the jacket, just closed your eyes, letting sleep overtake you. “what you said is true. i do think about you a lot, shua. probably more than a close friend should.” you mumbled, already half asleep, still not sobering up enough to control and censor your thoughts before saying them out loud. “what do you mean?” his eyes went wide and he looked in your direction as if he misheard what you had said, only to see you knocked out cold, sleeping soundly like a baby. on the way to your house he couldn’t stop himself from replaying your words in his head over and over again while he checked on you from time to time to see if you were alright. he couldn’t believe what he had just heard, that you might’ve felt something more for him, something friends don’t feel, something he had been suppressing for a long time, a warm feeling in his chest. when you arrived he turned off the car, however didn’t have the heart to wake you. he knew you were exhausted, so he draped his jacket over you, and let you sleep for a bit longer, watching you rest so peacefully after shaking up his heart with your drunk monologue. he didn’t know if he should believe you, if he really had a chance of being more than friends with you after all these years. he got comfortable in his seat, facing your form, eyes looking at your still face.

“i know you are sleeping, but just so you know we will definitely have to talk about this little sentence of yours in the morning y/n. i do think about you a lot too, you know? you need to be more clear next time, because you cannot do this to me, driving me crazy and leaving me to chase false hopes.”

#wonijinjin #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #joshua #joshua x reader #svt joshua #tiny bit of angst #friends to lovers #slow burn #comfort #fluff #joshua hong #jisoo hong #seventeen

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poisonsage808 · 2 years

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♡ Indirect ‘I love you’s ♡

w/ podrick payne, tyrion lannister, sandor clegane (should i do more?)

♡ Podrick ♡

• Podrick is absolutely enamored by you so his heart, lungs mind- everything simply stops when you tell him you love him

• The words are stuck in his throat and, bless his kind heart, he apologizes for it! He thinks he falls for you even harder when you smile and kiss him softly, “Don’t be sorry, I only wanted you to know.”

• Brienne thought you would be a distraction but was proved wrong. Pod’s never been late to training and works harder in the yard, especially when he catches you watching as you pass by. Words may fail him but he can make sure that his sword won’t

• She and Tyrion can attest to it, Pod has always done his damnedest to protect the ones he cares for, he wants you to see that you’re no exception to that

• Said people from above also notice Podrick starts humming when doing tasks or strolling from one place to another

• Tyrion watches his old squire bid him goodnight after only an hour of drinking, faintly hearing that same tune fading down the hall. One doesn’t need to have the mind of a Lannister to see a fool in love, and this fool somehow proudly sings for all to hear

• His voice is wonderful. He knows it too that damn smirk on his face tells you so, “Podrick Payne, what are you doing?” You ask with a cheek hurting grin as he takes your hands into his

• He continues to serenading you, swaying you in small, slow circles. Pod enjoys how the tables have turned, now it’s you who’s as red as a tomato. Redder when his hand slides to your back as he dips you, kissing you passionately

♡ Tyrion ♡

• You’ll never want for anything if you’re his, he’ll do everything in his power to make certain of that

• Howeverrr if what you want is to hear the words then you’ll need to be patient. There’s been two people in this world that've both shown and told him he’s loved, his brother and his first wife. He’s just not ready but don’t they say that actions speak louder anyways?

• Tyrion doesn’t just throw money at situations regarding you, he’s very meticulous in his gifts and he listens to you as much as he speaks

• Your shoes are worn? Here’s five new pairs, take any or all of them. You liked that wine you had months ago that you can’t remember the name of? He’ll have it served with supper tonight. You offhandedly mentioned wishing you could play the lyre? A tutor will be present shortly and Tyrion wants a private performance as soon as possible

• Tyrion’s a busy man and any spare moment he gives to you but sometimes the hour is already so late you’re fighting sleep just to spend more time him

• He’s also a smart man that’s good with his words, he has a soothing voice that suddenly turns smug and your eyes open to glare at him

• “I know what you’re doing,” You say, struggling to hide a yawn. “I would hope so, I only do this every night. How else am I supposed to get you to rest?”

• A compromise is found, Tyrion lays with you in bed and tells you stories until you pass out with your arms around him, trapping him there with you until morning

♡ Sandor ♡

• Tell him you love him and Sandor softly replies with, “I know,” pressing a kiss to your crown

• The words scare him. Not as fiercely as fire but he sees them, sees you, as a weakness nonetheless

• Saying them outloud puts a target on your back and not only for the people around him, if the gods hear he’s acknowledged the words and decided to take you away from him— No. Sandor couldn’t live with that.

• Protection has always been the most natural way for him to show you that you hold his heart

• “I’d kill for you, y’know that?” He starts saying after you tell him you love him, or “I’d die for you,” while cupping your face in both his hands, he needs you to know he means it

• It doesn’t bother him one bit to know blood was spilt by his hand as long as you’re safe at the end of each day

• A less obvious way is when he feeds you— sometimes literally, Sandor will make sure you’ve eaten one way or another. Don’t tell him you’re not hungry, he’ll say, “Didn’t ask if you were hungry, open your mouth.”

• He’ll also let you pick off his own plate and grab you seconds without asking. Don’t worry about wasting, if you’re truly full then Sandor will finish off the rest

♡ requests open! ♡

#poiboidrabbles #x reader #game of thrones imagine #sandor clegane x reader #tyrion imagines #tyrion lannister x reader #podrick imagine #podrick payne x reader #sandor clegane imagine

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spacelazarwolf · 1 year

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tldr scroll down to see my new plants.

this is a departure from my usual posts, it's a bit more like hybrid blog/diary entry, idk, but here u go.

for those of y'all who don't know, one of my hobbies is plants. i like to collect them propagate them, trade them, etc. and my favorite type of plant is aroids, particularly philodendrons. it was a very difficult hobby to maintain after the plant boom during lockdown caused plant prices to skyrocket, so for the past year or two i haven't relaly been buying that many new plants, and when i have it's just been from garden centers or local nurseries.

yesterday, however, i went to an aroid show where there was a vendor from south america who had brought a bunch of specimens people could purchase. they're a family owned business that focuses on protection and preservation of biodiversity and native plant species, and all their plants are ethically sourced, usually grown in their own greenhouses from propagations instead of taking them from their natural habitat and selling them. so obviously i had to check them out.

but this is where i sort of pause while writing this post, because i get really nervous talking about spending money, especially on here. i've frequently asked for help when i needed assistance getting my account out of the red or paying late rent, so part of me feels like it would be insulting to post about things i spend money on that aren't the essentials. but my plants make me happy. they give me something to take care of. they brighten up my apartment. they give me something to be excited about. so i'm just gonna tell you about my new plants.

about a month ago when i left my old church job, they gave me a gift card that the choir had pitched in for. i couldn't get cash out, use it for rent, or transfer it to my bank account, so i decided it would be my hobby fund. when i found out about the aroid show, i set aside a portion of that fund for plants because i knew that the specimens at the show would be significantly less expensive than anything i could find online or in local shops, and it might be one of the only chances i would ever have to actually buy some of my wishlist plants.

this is a philodendron esmeraldense. this is what they look like when the leaves get bigger and more mature. this is one i hadn't seen before so it wasn't on my wishlist, but when i was checking the vendors' stock last week i loved how it looked. i'm gonna put it on a moss pole and let it climb. the leaves probably won't ever get as big as the one in the linked photo, but i'm still excited to watch it grow.

this is a terrible picture but this is a philodendron patriciae. they get super long. this one’s putting out like two new leaves. it’s also a climber. the ripples in the leaves get more intense as it matures, so paired with the very long leaves it looks so cool. i can't wait to grow this one bigger.

philodendron pastazanum. it’s a crawler so i’ll be getting a window box to put it in so it has space to grow across the substrate. this has been on my list for a while but i couldn’t find it anywhere. the big heart leaves are just gorgeous.

this is a philodendron melanochrysum. the leaves can get huge. technically i already have a smaller one, but this one was just so gorgeous. i will probably end up planting them together on one moss pole. it’s one of my favorite plants, i am a sucker for velvety leaves. you can see one of the older leaves is getting ready to drop, and i think i'm going to try to make a project out of it.

philodendron tortum. it feels like the kind of plant that would have been growing while the dinos were around. it's very reminiscent of a fern, but it is also a climber. i had one like two years ago but i had to sell it to pay some bills, so i'm happy to have it back in my collection.

the one in the center. anthurium veitchii, or king anthurium. this one was kind of an impulse buy. i don’t usually do anthurium but it was cheap and looked incredibly cool. they look even cooler when they get mature.

what is a king without his queen. anthurium warocqueanum, or queen anthurium. i wasn't sure if i wanted to tackle this one bc it's notoriously hard to take care of, but it was very cheap so i took the plunge. these also get super long, and the velvety shiny leaves are so pretty.

monstera obliqua peru. this was a unicorn plant. it is difficult to find in the wild, grows slowly, and is hard to propagate, so it was mostly just passed from collector to collector until the plant boom during covid. nodes of this plant, literally just bits of stem you would cross your fingers and hope would root and grow leaves, were going for a thousand dollars and a single leaf up to three thousand dollars a year or two ago. and now i have a very full plant for only forty bucks. 2020 me is screaming. this specimen looks a little squished from the trek from south america to the midwest, but when it acclimates to its new environment, it's going to look so cool. this is another plant that has dino vibes.

and finally the grand finale. philodendron spiritus sancti. i honestly can't believe i'm typing this. this plant is considered to be one of the rarest philodendrons in the world - if not the rarest. it only grows in one place, and there are reportedly only 10 known plants left in the wild because of a combination of poaching and the excessive clearing of their habitat. it was another one that pretty much only existed in high level (wealthy) collections for a very long time. now, more specimens of this plant exist in private collections than in the wild, which makes ownership of this plant very emotional for me. this is a plant that was going for upwards of $14k for large specimens at the height of the plant boom. people were scrambling to get their hands on that one plant that no one could get, the highest prize, a bragging point. no one cared if they were getting it ethically. someone even stole a cutting from a botanical garden just to sell it.

this plant was not on my wishlist because i never thought i would even get to see in person, let alone hold, let alone own. and yet yesterday i picked it up, held it in my hands, saw the two digit price tag, and decided yeah. i think it's only fair that the money a bunch of presbyterians gave me should go to adding a plant called a "spiritus sancti" to my jewish plant collection.

it still doesn't feel real. i can just look over at my plant cabinet, and there it is. a spiritus sancti. bc for me it was never about having a big name plant in my collection. it was never about bragging or showing off or just checking names off a list of things i was supposed to want if i was into houseplants. this plant still exists because botanists and aroid enthusiasts have worked tirelessly to conserve it. and having this little piece of history and the world in my little plant cabinet feels more like a responsibility to me than a prize.

so yeah. those are my new plants. i'm excited to see them grow and still a little starstruck that i was even able to bring home the last two.

#plant collection

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sniigura-archive · 2 years

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i know you and i like you anyway (1)

chapter 2

nathan prescott x reader ; warren graham x reader

summary: when the pressure and eyes are on you, it’s hard to stay afloat. especially when your not so forgotten best friend comes back into your life. and they are ready to mess up the plans others have for you.

having parents and peers constantly nag you about your grades, interests and lack of an significant other can bring you down. but meeting the new kid in the academy can change at least one of your mocking points.

yn is implied to be afab (lives in fem dorms) but is genderneutral otherwise!

tw/cw: mentions of poverty, mental health issues, canon typical violence, swearing, implied/ref drug use, modern au as in its not 2013, huge canon divergence and messed up time line, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed smth!

read on ao3 for better formatting and tagging

unlike popular belief nathan prescott did not grow up in arcadia bay. the heir to the prescott name grew up in fort lauderale, florida. his family, from his mother side, lived there. she was able to convince his father to let them live there, bless her soul.

(“it will be good for him! for us! the pressure will destroy him. just look at how kristine treats us.. i don’t want to lose another child.”)

he spend his time at prestigious elementary and middle schools. and at middle school is where he meet you. people started quickly talking about you, simply because you were the only scholarship student. unlike everyone else you didn’t come from money.

your uniform was constantly 3 sizes too big, your hand was constantly raised and when you got anything less than an A there was clear panic on your face. the biggest difference to everyone else were your empty eyes and constant deadpan. seemingly nothing truly got a reaction out of you. there was a boy who tried to, by pulling at your hair and messing up your homework.

you beat him up so bad that the whole class just decided to leave you alone. and fact is, everyone who was near you also got left alone, so nathan was naturally pulled towards you. he wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

middle school was hard, simply because nathan`s problems started to really show, he wasn`t a child anymore who threw temper tantrum’s. he was now a boy with violent emotional outbursts. and quite frankly, children are cruel. getting a rise out of the weird prescott kid was more entertaining than torturing their maids and nanny’s.

because you were the only one who could handle his temper, simply because you didn’t care about it as long as he didn’t touch you, you got paired up for different projects.

and that’s how you meet his family. his father didn’t like you, but he doesn’t even like his own children, so his opinion didn’t matter. his mother and sister loved you, simply because you were very polite. dinners were filled with you being questioned to hell and back while you were trying to eat as much as possible.

“uhhh.. i have an older brother, he’s 2 years older than me…i have a twin brother, too. and another 3 little brothers. my father works at a la…actually he’s unemployed right now. my mother works as a teacher and during the summer break she works..where ever they need someone. what i want to be when i grow up?…middle class.”

meeting you after school was hard, responsibilities which nathan couldn’t even imagine carrying were put on your shoulder.

(“sorry. i have to study and babysit. so sorry, i need to grocery shop and take care of dinner. i wish i could, i have to cut the hair of all my brothers and clean the house. if i don’t pass this test my father will murder me.. i have to study. thank you for being so understanding.”)

to be honest, at first nathan didn’t even want anything to do with you. his mother insisted for him to invite you over. he now knows she pitied you. he now knows, too that you even were able to pull on the heartstrings of his father, because he would ask when you would visit again.

when nathan asked you, why did you have to care for everything, what did your brothers do to help? “have fun, i guess.” he felt angry for you. “how can you just roll over and take it? what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“well, who else would do i? why are you angry? i’m not angry, and i’m the one with the responsibilities.”

nathan learned to love you and the emptiness you carried around.

just like everything good in his life, your friendship (or was it more? it felt like more. he misses you, he misses your mean comments, your eye bags and exhaustion.) ended slowly.

once middle school was over, and he was able to graduate with a dirty record of violent outbursts, which was magically clean once he looked over it. the prescott family moved to arcadia bay. he was enrolled in the blackwell academy.

he found this out at the end of the summer break. to be honest he was getting suspicious, because all his questions regarding the highschool he was supposed to attend were being ignored. his father send him away, his mother smiled at him with sadness, he insisted to go to the same school as you.

“please, don’t forget me at your new cool school.”

“i will NEVER forget you, idiot. you’re the only tolerable person i know.”

the way you smiled at him was still clear in his head. you were beautiful in a way he has never seen, and the older he gets the more he realises he never will see anyone quite as pretty as you.

when nathan is 13 he meets dr. jacoby and starts treatment for the anger he feels. he knows that he fells ptity for him. nathan misses you, when he told you about his father, about the bruises and pressure he is under you simply talk about an escape plan. a way you both will be free from the shackles your family put on you and live happily everafter.

maybe you pitied him, but that would never stop you from treating him normally. you didn’t try to avoid his outburst, his meltdowns, you were always direct to him and never lied. he respected you more than anyone. he sees it in his mother, and relatives, how they dance around him as if he is fragile.

when nathan moved away, the first year he visited every break he could. summer, fall, winter and spring spend together. when he wasn’t there with you, he texted you. sending letters, postcards and hour long phone calls. his father hated this, more than anything.

(“depending not only on someone, but on such a low class person? don’t you know that you’re being used? they only see you as a walking wallet! i will put an end to this.”)

the only time dr. jacoby has seen sean prescott in person is when he expressed his concern regarding a codependent friendship with someone from florida. looking back on it, the doctor realised he was lied to and he was able to convince nathan to stop the contact, the only stable and positive influence in his life.

nathan wishes he could say that he got back in contact with you, that you were best friends again, but life is cruel and he’s a coward. he misses you, more than anything. he thinks he’s obsessed with you, dreams were about you (both dreams and nightmares), his day was spend imagining what you were up to, what you look like now. the silly thing is, nathan has never told anyone about you. victoria knew that he had an ex best friend in florida, but she didn’t know any details, rachel knew he was hung up on someone, jefferson knew that there was someone inhabiting his heart and mind.

and well. the school knew somethings. see, the thing is, when you’re high some things slip out. sometimes you mumble a name once or thrice when you’re passed out, and when you (try) hooking up with someone, you moan the wrong name. more than once. with different people. yeah. when one person claims he said the wrong name it’s one thing, but three? he was in deep shit.

victorias nosiness didn’t help, she wanted all the gory details, but he couldn’t say anything. what was he supposed to say? i fucked it up with the best person, because i couldn’t stand up to my shitty father and useless psychiatrist? sure. part of him was sure that she saw the pictures of you he has in his drawers, in his albums, hidden away.

for a short time nathan thinks he moved on, when he met rachel. she was pretty, smart and nice. she was less than you and much more. and he thinks he’s ok, ok with the distance and unknown which surrendes you. why did all your social media accounts have to be private?

nathan is 18 and it has been nearly 4 years since he has seen you. blackwell turned into the senior focused art academy, just like it was planned. he entered his first year in the 2 year programme and finally he was able to make a name for himself. victoria turned the vortex club into a group for the elite just like how she planned, with nathan’s help. he wasn’t the victim anymore, he finally ruled over the school grounds. summer passed and before he could register it, it was fall break.

it was the last few days and students started to move back into their dorms. the talk right now where the new students attending, some students dropped out because they were catched with drugs on their person, some couldn’t afford the rising tuition prices and others simply moved away because of their parents. nathan couldn’t careless, those who left aren’t close to him, but who is truly close to the prescott heir? he can’t lie though, he lost one of his best customers, or more like frank did.

victoria was in nathan’s dorm room, she was checking out the new student’s. according to her, there were no new people in the girl dorm’s who fit in the vortex club. how tragic. outside on the hallway was some commotion,

“please, move and unlock your door before i decide against helping you with your furniture.” could be heard from the outside, spoken by an unknown voice. the room besides nathan was being occupied. sad. he will miss the privacy and silence. especially now, with furniture being build. fucking hell.

“oh my, hottie alert. two of them even.” victoria was peeking out of his door.

“oh yeah? found some new members?” she hummed, “let’s go over and introduce ourselves. first impressions are everything. before the freaks come and snatch `em away.”

nathan groaned, “give me a minute. i’m still fucking hangover from yesterday. fuck, frank needs to stop stretching his shit or one day i’m going to die, for real.” victoria only chuckled at her best friend.

stepping away from the door she got out here phone and looked herself over in the camera, fixing a few strands and wiping away lipstick which started to smear over her lips. in the meantime nathan got up from his bed, going through his har with his hands and putting on his iconic jacket. with that he left the room, victoria right behind him. looking his door before they make their way over to his new neighbours.

and honestly, he should have expected this, because you always meet someone twice. or that’s what you always said. the door was open, and some guy had his back turned towards them. damn, he’s tall. it’s kinda overkill. turning around, the stranger nearly ran into him and victoria,

“shit! my bad, i didn’t see you there…do we know each other?”

you weren’t who nathan saw when he found out you were back, or more like you were here. in his life. instead, he saw face to face with your twin. the guy was freakishly tall, nathan remembered how small he used to be, now he was over 6 feet tall with clear defined muscles.

nathan with his proud 5`7 feet felt his fragile ego being tested, simply by the fact that some guy he used to know when he was, like, 13 was now way taller than him. and part of him wants to lash out, yell at oliver for not watching where he’s fucking going. but nathan was aware that this would kill any chance of reconciling with you. starting a fight with your brother would immediately put him on your shitlist, even if you hate oliver. sometimes.

(“he’s still my brother. if you talk badly about him again, i’m going to throw you out of this window.”)

“jesus himself could stand before you and you wouldn’t recognise him. stop bothering people, this is the third time you have asked someone this. get your stuff already.” your clearly annoyed voice rang through the room. thankfully this took away n

oliver scratched his head, “man, not my fault i can’t recognise faces for shit. my name’s oliver. nice to meet you guys!”

victoria the angel (or devil) took over the conversation, noticing that nathan was a tiny bit overwhelmed, “hi! i’m victoria and this is my best friend nathan. we just wanted to welcome you to blackwell. if you need any help don’t be afraid to ask us.” she put on her best mask of friendliness. “we are the leaders of the vortex cub, a group for blackwells elite. i’m sure you will fit right in.” taking out a flyer she gave it to him.

reading it over oliver said, “me? for sure. i don’t know about grumpy bear back there.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you’re my twin, and i love you but you’re mean. like, even teachers are afraid of you. well, i better get going before you throw something at me.” with that oliver left his spot at the door and nathan finally can look at you. you were sitting in the middle of the room, an unfinished shelf laying on the floor and a toolbox was at your side. in one hand you held a screwdriver and in the other hand, raised into the air you held a pillow, obviously ready to throw it.

you look just like he remembered and at the same time it feels like he’s looking at a stranger. you’re not quite as skinny anymore and your eye bags weren’t as dark anymore. wearing a oversized hoodie and jeans, just like when you were a kid. but now he knows it’s probably more a fashion choice instead of only owning hand me downs and extra big clothes to grow into. of course, you still have to be stupidly attractive. now you wear glasses, too.

you lowered the pillow back to the ground, now that your target left. looking down at the shelf you pouted and said in a small voice, “i’m not mean.” your piercing gaze drifted over to victoria and then nathan, “hi, i’m the mean y/n, apparently.” when you saw him, you did a small double take. victoria and her awareness immediately caught that. stupid artists and their eye for details, especially since she has heard that name mumbled many times.

“oh? where are you guys from?” she asked, smiling at you.

“uhh…florida,” when you saw her raise a brow, hinting at waiting more details you continued, “fort lauderdale, to be exact.”

“what a coincidence! nathan here also grew up there. do you perhaps know each other?” the way victoria smiled reminded you of a dog barring it’s teeth in a warning.

nathan knew you and you would play along with whatever lie he went with, but part of him doesn’t want to lie. here’s his chance to actually start a path, to be friends again (or to be more. but you probably hate him, on the other hand who doesn’t?).

“…long fuckin` time no see, y/n.” what a lame way to say hello after nearly 4 years, but it’s not like he can rewind time.

before he could register it he was hit square in the face with the discarded pillow, “what the fuck? what happened to forgive and forget? huh?”

“woah..” only now did nathan register that fucking warren was also in the room, sitting on the bed. the guy was impressed, he never thought he would see someone attack nathan fucking prescott. warren is putting you on a pedestal right now.

“what the fuck are you looking at, loser?” in true nathan fashion he had to lash out at someone and it couldn’t be you. warren quickly put his hands up in surrender, regretting ever speaking.

“no fighting in my room, guys.” oliver returned in his hands two boxes stacked on top of each other. looking at nathan, he said “so i do know you, what kind of unforgivable act did you commit for grumpy to punish you with the pillow of hatred?”

“stop calling me that!”

oliver walked further into the room, dropping his boxes near you and asking you something, in a hushed voice and a language unknown to the others in the room. when you answered his eyes widened in shock.

“the rich kid! of course i remember you, dude. in fact, y/n will forgive you for whatever you did and marry you. so we- you guys can be rich and shit, together.” oliver nodded wisely, while you looked so tired. shaking your head, you simply started to screw around with the screws in the shelf.

quickly dismantling the shelf, you dropped the screws messily on the floor and stood up, pointing to your brother you said, “you’re horrible,” pointing to nathan, “i’m incredibly angry with you,” pointing to both warren and victoria you spoke your last words, “it was nice to meet you both. warren, i will take you up on that offer to show me around.” and then you walked out with the tool box in hand.

“are you finally going to tell the story about y/n?”

“…fuck, i don’t know how to put up any furniture.”

#life is strange #life is strange x reader #nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #warren graham #warren graham x reader #life is strange imagine #x reader #nathan prescott imagine #warren graham imagine

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mochibdsm · 3 months

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on slavery: limiting and worthwhile

I’m washing the dishes after dinner as always. But it’s late, later than usual. We delayed our normal dinner time of 6 PM to accommodate the schedule of a guest, so cleanup, too, was pushed back. And, with the added person, there are a few extra dishes. So I’m still cleaning, later than usual. Last night, after dinner, Mistress ordered me to leave the dishes for the morning, deciding that I didn’t feel up to doing them due to a health flareup. So I spent extra time doing the dishes this morning, too, after the other meal I serve and clean up after every day—brunch at 9:30 AM.

And, as I’m finishing the last of the dishes for the day, admittedly eager to get back to some writing I was doing, I have the thought: imagine how much I could get done if I wasn’t always cleaning or cooking.

I regret the thought immediately, looking around as if someone could’ve overheard it, unsure if that’s something like internal enslavement or the paranoid schizophrenia, or maybe something normal. But Mistress and the guest are both gone—they went out—so even if I’d spoken it aloud, no one would’ve heard me.

But, I think, in reverse, isn’t that kind of the idea of our service dynamic? Imagine how much Mistress could get done if she never had to clean or cook or do any of the other tasks that take about forty hours of my average week. Imagine if I could be that powerful difference. Even subtracting things she might do faster or easier or neglect altogether without me, that’s a lot of time. It’s hard to get serious amounts of work done without that kind of maintenance support. My mind goes back to the Manifesto for Maintenance Art.

And she’s using that time well and all—being an independent entrepreneur—that’s not the issue. And overall, I’m happiest in that dynamic. But it’s human, I think, to occasionally wonder, But what about my time? It’s not actually that I don’t do anything other than cook and clean. No, I’m not allowed to have a traditional job or anything, and I don’t pine for that. But I still go hmm when I, increasingly, see people discussing my dynamic in terms of me not working—or largely not working—outside of my service.

Firstly, it feels a little weird, because, as mentioned, service is a full time job, and it would definitely be weird to say, So and so doesn’t work, except for their full time job, in any other scenario, so sometimes I wonder if anyone else views this as legitimate. Some of them must, the way I see the stay at home spouse role discussed.

Secondly, my time tracking shows that I spend another forty hours a week on things I consider work that aren’t service. Nine to five, no, but significant to me, yes. Writing, webinars, running TNG, going to butler school. Some make money, some don’t—and I know that part will sway some people’s definitions. Some of those things might come back to service or kink in the end, but not all of them. Yes, service must always be the top priority—but there’s some room for other things.

And I know it’s false, but I still don’t identify as an erotica author or as a BDSM blogger (or, really, as a blogger at all, but that’s beside the point here), even though that’s what I’m best known for at this point. In my mental model of myself, I still write primarily vanilla, nonromantic, nonsexual fiction, like Contrivance, which was my main project for the better part of eleven years (and a sequel is brewing).

But even knowing a significant portion of what I write at this point does come back to kink, a lot of it, still, does not. And writing erotica or kink blogging isn’t really a service to Mistress. She couldn’t care less if I do it or not. I’ve also embarked into vanilla webinars, into blogging about schizophrenia and productivity, other vanilla things. And I do those things because I love them, because, to my surprise, some people think I’m good at them, and I dare to think they make a positive impact—representation, education, bringing people together.

So, yes, I do things other than cook and clean and serve. Still, I do all of the cooking and cleaning and serving that enables Mistress to do something good with her time. If we assume she does the equivalent of working full time, then she works full time once over, on her own endeavors, and I work full time twice over—once to support her endeavors (which also, incidentally, feeds me and keeps my environment clean), and once on my own projects.

If I had the time that’s usually spent serving and supporting to myself, would it really all go towards my own projects? Probably, largely—I’m a bit of a workaholic. But what does that gain me—the ability to basically work twice as fast, in the long run? Yes, but wouldn’t it maybe be better, to do twice as much—to split my time—like I am now? Diversify what I do a little? Not to mention that her work that I’m supporting is different from my own, mixing up the benefits to the world further. Plus, rote cooking and cleaning is a nice, physical brain break from my largely more mental work.

A recent conversation between friends summed this up nicely:

“Pretty sure if Hannah wasn’t a slave she’d just take over the world.”

“Eh, she still might. It’ll just take longer.”

Yes, I conclude to myself as I finish drying dishes and finish up cleaning the kitchen—it’s better this way.

…

A few days later, I sit in my office, stuck and conflicted.

Mistress is again out with a friend, and, having just finished what I was doing, I’m not entirely sure what to do now.

Every little idea that occurs to me seems to be blocked by rules, and by my unwillingness to interrupt her. I kind of want to get the listings up for a weekend intensive I have planned, but I still need to do the final run of the dates, the obligation and possible schedule changes, by Mistress, though we’ve discussed the intensive itself. There’s a picture on my phone I want to upload to FetLife, but I need her permission. I have to go to the bathroom—and I won’t need her permission for that once she actually leaves, but her and the friend are lingering just outside, and it’ll be easier to wait for them to properly leave than to interrupt her now. I think about taking a shower, but again I need to wait for her to properly leave to not need permission, and she’ll still need to inspect my job of shaving and such when she gets back. I have some medical phone calls I could make, but again, either she needs to leave properly or I need permission; she’s already approved the changes I’m calling about. I can’t currently leave the house to do anything except to get the mail without permission, and even that requires notification.

I feel like I’m running into wall after wall, bouncing back into an impossibly small space. My life feels like it’s on hold right now, unless I’m willing to interrupt her—which feels bothersome when it’s unnecessary and she’s socializing—and that assumes, for some of those, that she also sees it and responds. I currently need her attention to do literally anything that comes to mind first, though a few things open up once she’s out out, and eventually, more comes to mind (like writing this).

Our protocol typically takes into account practicality—hence why there are exceptions when she’s out or asleep or such. In her presence, I can’t leave the room, sit on the furniture, shift from most of my slave positions, or speak without permission (actually, I’m not even allowed to ask about the furniture, and I have to ask if there’s anything else she wants before I can ask for permission to leave, and curtsy if I get it, and asking permission to speak if she doesn’t speak to me first is a slave position, not a verbal question—and I still have speech restrictions). But, if she’s off alone in her office, I can roam around the rest of the house and sit on the furniture. If she’s asleep and it’s the middle of the night, I gain permissions like being able to temporarily unleash myself, no Leashing Position, let myself up from the blanket on the floor at the foot of the bed I sleep on, and go to the bathroom, and releash myself (though, for first leashing for the night or final unleashing for the morning, I need to wake her). If she’s out of the house or if we’re in vanilla company—usually somewhat rare—I gain some things, too.

Now, maybe the most practical and unobtrusive thing is not needing permission or to notify her of anything at all, so we clearly don’t make every compromise for practicality, because we also prioritize rules, rituals, protocols, permissions. Pleasing isn’t always practical, and really, pleasing comes first, unless it’s very unpractical. Likewise, there’s effort for her to put in, too.

So on days when the leash feels a little short, like today, I remind myself that pleasing comes first, before whatever I want to do, before peak practicality. I remind myself that without that leash, I more frequently feel equally stuck, not cornered into a small space but torn between infinite directions that go infinite distances, trying to figure out which one is best. I still want to be pleasing without a leash to guide me—and I don’t know which way to go. One reason I like being a slave is because trying to be perfectly pleasing to one person is a lot easier, a good compromise, compared to trying to be perfect to the world—which is impossible, yet I crave anyway. And the leash cuts down choices immensely, makes the right path to pleasing clear, and yes, I have to face the fact that it cuts down a lot, that my world gets very small, that I truly come second, but I’m not lost; I know how to please. I don’t have to wonder.

And that’s worth it, for me.

#education:lifestyle #resources:articles #topic:Ms

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anthonybialy · 5 months

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Human Activity Displayed in Zoo

Zoos are great for studying animal behavior. The beings who live there watch the show. A scheme overcharging some to make entrance free for others means it’s not those behind fences getting scrutinized. Recognize behavioral patterns such as never recognizing behavioral patterns. Those allegedly on exhibit look outward and wonder what those gawky upright creatures are thinking.

Neither workers nor furry friends are being treated like good neighbors. The Buffalo Zoo provides an inadvertent look at failing to grasp outcomes. Their program creating complimentary admission sounds nice until realizing the price hike is paid for by those who, well, pay for tickets. A benefits card also doubles as a zoo pass if you fretted the definition hadn’t been stretched enough.

Why spend on anything? Free is much cheaper. There can’t possibly be a catch. That little bit about how anything is funded is an avaricious conspiracy promoted by heartless capitalists who insist upon payment for provided goods. Have the compassionate courage to think something can be made to cost as much as shoplifting. It just takes enough faith to defy sense.

I hate to bust up the fun of seeing giraffes’ antics gratis, but a wealth transfer isn’t going to ease the process. Charging more for admittance means more money unless fewer prospective visitors hit the turnstiles. Thinking incentives exist is a bunch of free-market mumbo jumbo. At least, it better be.

A ripoff spurs smirking amongst accomplices. Spot them on campaign signs. The newest type of entitlement means it’s time for a particularly smug style of self-righteousness from sanctimonious politicians who are for some reason involved in decisions regarding an animal enclosure. If it’s run as poorly as government, the zoo’s dwellers are in trouble.

People who think you’re not generous enough are preening about how indigent children will finally be able to see a zebra in person. In prototypical governmental fashion, those with collective urges make it more difficult for whippersnappers with parents who pay bills.

Getting punished for paying sums up human conduct. Scientists observing patterns shake their heads at endless tiresome patterns. Making just enough over the poverty line means punishment, so don’t knock yourself out working for some promotion.

Can you afford to see other species? Entering the Buffalo Zoo will run an adult who makes too much money 30 dollars. It’ll be over a hundred bucks for a family of four, which is a steep price even in the Bidenomics era. Hungry otters shouldn’t have to deal with shrinkflation.

It took me a whole seven seconds, but I came up with a way to help children see animals other than squirrels. Start with a lower ticket price. Offer patrons the chance to donate to an admission stockpile for the less fortunate. There: voluntary help keeps the beast park accessible instead of ironically putting attendance out of reach.

Animals are on the dole. It’s not their fault. Like just about every other area institution, the zoo is already subsidized by taxpayers. The refusal to distinguish between what’s worthwhile and whether involuntary contributions should be used for support is liberalism’s core.

If you really enjoy a cultural institution, feel free to give freely. You certainly wouldn’t make an enriching shed’s future precarious by draining the economy so messianic dolts who won elections can decide who’s worthy of bestowment.

A zoo simply couldn’t start a GoFundMe for expenses: the monkeys would spend gifts on toy cars and chicken fingers. Forget cutting out the middle monkey. The only option is apparently to drive up costs for suckers who work hard enough to not qualify for handouts.

Guilt is the government’s main currency. A one for the price of two deal may seem like a bit of a ripoff. But that’s only because you don’t care about ramen consumers. The problem is that everyone’s eating college snacks for dinner.

Democrats love the underprivileged so much that they they create more of them. Givers away of money belonging to others can’t figure out why things like a zoo trip are unaffordable. It must be corporate greed.

Eggs are a luxury. Forget seeing animals frolic regardless of whether or not they hatch. Prices have run amok like a stampeding buffalo herd because of the same sort of mentality that concludes you can create a benefit through compulsion. Every single maneuver to make things inexpensive cheapens results. Oh, and they make things expensive.

Democrats are so compassionate that they have to force donations. The pushy part refuses to comprehend assisting voluntarily. They’re capable of conceiving of helping others unlike those residing in the penned exhibits, which means there’s no excuse. Conditioning to believe daft things is not in one’s nature.

Beings who live more than 10 miles from a Starbucks learn about cause and effect in a harsh way. Menagerie proprietors are about to discover a similar lesson. Consequences are more dire in the wild. But earners are getting eaten alive.

The entry redistribution scheme will work great as long as ticket-buyers keep doing so. Can the mayor issue an executive order? The county needs a law compelling wildlife enthusiasts to keep purchasing, which only sounds silly until you realize that wouldn’t be that much different from coercing taxpayers.

Everything works out except for seeing animals. Zoo goons just made the place unaffordable for paying customers so they can preen about how much they care. And attendance is about to plummet, which means the program will be nowhere near financed. A philosophical and practical disaster sums up the beliefs of humans who don’t understand their own intrinsic traits.

Animals aren’t just cuter, funnier, and cooler than most humans: when it comes to those overseeing their displays, they’re more sensible, too. Zoology allies who aren’t logical about zoos showed a lack of comprehension regarding their society. Those who have an excuse to not grasp abstract convepts will look at the empty spaces in front of their enclosures and wonder where their pals went. The difference between zoo residents and liberals is that the former learn.

#zoo #Buffalo #Buffalo Zoo #entitlements #economy #class warfare

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baileyjane3769 · 7 months

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Original Copy is on Quotev, for a better viewing experience and chapter by chapter reading head on over to my Quotev page @BobbyWolf3769 or click the link here

***

When a game is over and all hidden things have been found, what is there left to do? Move on. That's what you would have liked to have done after finishing the disappointing secret ending of a popular otome game. But when the story is over, and all things were said and done, you find yourself trapped in that very game. Faced with the task to keep everyone alive, can you make it to the end without falling in love?

Long read ahead

Chapter One

Secret Ending

There was no way that you could have predicted that a game so simple would lead you down this long and confusing path of love and murder. What originally started off as a typical Friday afternoon ended with you being stuck in the predicament you are currently in, and leads you to wonder if maybe you hadn’t been so obsessed with the darn game then maybe things would have ended differently.

The level of your obsession had amounted to you skipping lunch that day, sitting in an empty bathroom stall, your phone pulled out, and the game loaded in just so you could finish the current route you were playing. While normally you would consider yourself a good student who always found ways to study efficiently, get good grades, and listen to the simple rules that were given, you couldn’t help yourself this time as the feeling of completing yet another route in this game filled you with such contentment.

The male lead of this route wasn’t even your favorite out of the three possible capture targets, as his personality was less than favorable most of the time. “Annoying prick.” You gently spoke under your breath, careful as to not alert any teacher to your current transgression.

If not for your want to complete all endings then you wouldn’t have bothered with his, the first few encounters between him and Yui, the name you decided to give the protagonist, is probably to blame for your dislike for him. Fukumoto Akihiko, the son of a wealthy family who mainly deals their business in the sake industry, he was the type of character who seemed to have everything put together in his life. The top academic student in their school, a wealthy family who had lots of money to spend, and the looks to match.

Despite all of this, many of his peers described him as easy to talk to and quite charismatic but the one flaw that everyone could agree on was his tendency to be overly critical and harsh to those who he feels attempted to take his place as the top student. It is this tendency of his that has caused you to find him less than appealing as the first half of the developing relationship between him and the protagonist is one based on a practically one sided rivalry centered around his inferiority complex. You felt that in many ways his character comes off as too rude and self important, even after the revelation of his strained relationship with his father, you still couldn’t fathom why so many people out there found him to be appealing.

“Well,” you started. “At least I won’t have to deal with him for too much longer.” You think aloud as you continue to play your game, tapping the screen every so often to change the dialogue. You were almost finished with Akihiko’s route when you heard the all too familiar sound of clicking heels enter the bathroom. Shutting your phone off, you lifted your feet off of the ground and pulled them up to your chest.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice rang out in the deserted bathroom. Realizing it was just your friend, you let your feet fall back to the ground and made your way out of the stall you were currently in.

“Jeez Louise, Ashleigh.” You exclaimed. “I thought you were a teacher, don’t scare me like that.” Exasperated, you huffed out a response. She also looked started for a second before her eyes trailed down to the phone in your hands.

“Oh, so this is what was so important that you had to skip lunch for.” Her face held a playful smirk as she continued to tease you. “You can’t seem to put that game down. Careful now, you already look obsessed with it, one might even say–” Ashleigh held up her hand to her mouth, feigning shock. “—Addicted?”

Unamused, you playfully shoved her shoulder with your own smirk. “Yeah, whatever. You were just as bad when you started playing that DND styled otome game, remember? You went two whole days without sleep!” Her face went beat red with embarrassment as she let out the most horrified gasp.

“You promised not to bring that up again! Besides, that’s different! It was over summer vacation and my game has so much more involved in order to progress. I can’t just play dress up mini games to unlock more chapters like some people.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and turned her nose up.

“Whatever you say Miss High and Mighty. Anyways, we should probably get going before the bell rings.”

You said glancing at the blinking clock on your phone while also using your unoccupied arm to sling your book bag over your shoulder. “Oh shoot, you're right. That's why I came in here in the first place, so we could walk to class together.” Despite the constant bickering and light banter, you both would consider each other to be the best of friends.

“By the way,” Ashleigh began as you both exited the bathroom just as the bell rang to dismiss the D lunch students to the last class of the day. “Who's ending are you on now?” Your face held a deadpan expression as you recall your least favorite route.

“I’m on Akihiko’s route now, can’t say I’m enjoying it all that much.” She turned her head to you.

“Really? But isn’t he, like, good looking?”

You sputtered. “That’s not the only thing I’m attracted to Ash! Yeah, sure he’s got a good face but his personality is too contradicting. How can this man be ‘a charismatic prince’ who was voted student body president but then also be a total jerk-wad with how rude and stuck up he acts around the MC.” Ignoring the looks you would occasionally receive, you continued your rant which eventually turned into a discussion about the rest of the endings.

“So besides Akihiko’s route, as we both know how you feel about him,” You held back a quiet snorted laugh, “Is there anyone you actually like?” Ashleigh inquired, having made it to class, you both were seated and ready for it to start.

You hummed in thought. “Well, the game only has three obtainable love interests and their personalities are all kinda cliche.” Your friend nodded along as you talked. “There’s of course Akihiko Fukumoto, who is like this really smart and top of the class guy who gets along with everyone until the MC shows up and he goes all school rival on her because apparently she’s smarter than him. I don’t care for his character much.

Then there is Ryōta who is the delinquent bad boy of the school with a heart of gold. Apparently the reason he became a delinquent was because everyone around him was scared of him because he kinda has a resting mean face so everyone would avoid him.”

Ashleigh nodded her head. “As people do.”

“Right, so he falls for the MC for the fact that she shows no fear towards him and actually stands up against him but eventually comes to see the good side of him. Overall he ain’t too bad as he isn’t exactly rude to her but he can be a bit dismissive at times, this was probably my favorite route to play as it was fun to actually see a female lead who can somewhat fight.”

Ash hummed in thought. “That isn’t all that common in high school otome games.”

“Right? Anyways,” You waved your hand dismissively. “Lastly there is Fuyuhiko who is the playboy type and he is constantly surrounded by girls. The reason he fell for the female lead was because she would reject his flirty advances, you know the type who is always like ‘oh, she ignores me so I have to have her,’ type of guy.”

Ashleigh snickered at that. “Really? That’s insane.”

You laughed with her. “I know right. I mean he wasn’t all that bad but I have seen so many of these types, I don’t know, the game also uses many other cliches so I guess it’s not too surprising.” You shook your hand in a so-so way. “I mean if you take out the murder mystery plot then really it's just your average high school romance otome game.” You paused in thought for a second. “Hmm, actually I think there might be one more ending.”

“Oh?”

“Well apparently there is some secret ending that can only be obtained through various specific steps. This is only what I’ve heard from what people online say, so I’m not sure if it's real but when I’m done with Akihiko’s route then I’m gonna check it out.”

Ashleigh hummed in understanding. “Let me know if it is real, I want to know what it’s about.” You chucked along with her, taking out your notebook from your bookbag as the teacher just entered the room.

“I will, but we’re gonna have to talk about this later.” She nodded her head in agreement and you both turned to face the front of the classroom, ready for class to begin.

You figured you will have to finish your talk with Ashleigh tomorrow because it was already the end of the school day when you had a free minute and by then you had to board your bus that would be taking you home. “See you tomorrow Ash!” You said, waving goodbye to your friend who waved inturn.

“See ya, Y/n!”

You were glad that the journey home on the bus was a brief one as it meant more time to play your games. Not just the one you were currently playing, but a few other interesting ones that you had planned to play after all routes were finished. In fact, you were in your room when you decided to stay up the rest of the night to finish the game so that by tomorrow you could start playing the other ones you had planned, it was the weekend anyway. Ashleigh was right, you have been obsessing over this game for too long now. It was time to move on.

Despite what you may say about the cliche archetypes that continuously come up in both the plot and characters, there were still many aspects about the game that you genuinely enjoyed. Like many otome games alike, the concept of choices determining the outcome was ever present but unlike most other otome games, ‘Whispers of Love’ had an interactive ability to look around certain locations in order to look for clues to help solve the various mysteries that would come up. It was something that you had never seen in an otome type game before, which is what initially caught your interest in the first place.

Though after playing through almost every route, you were a bit disappointed with how the plot and characters turned out. Crime and mystery were one of its main selling points for you, but as the plot went on it became abundantly clear that the mystery behind the missing or murdered students didn’t matter as much as many trailers made it out to be. The annoyance you felt was immeasurable after finishing the first ending, and you still had no idea who the identity of the murder was.

“Finally.” You mumbled under your breath with a deep, slow sigh. You were finally finished with Akihiko’s route and could move on to the so-called hidden ending. With your eyes squeezed shut, you stretched both of your arms in the air, humming in satisfaction at the feeling.

The time was only 4:35 pm, still plenty of time to get through one more route. You weren’t sure how long it would take since many of the hidden endings that you played before had varied in length. If you had to make a guess, based on the length of the game, you would be playing well into the night. Which was fine since it was the weekend, a little late night gaming wouldn’t hurt.

The sun had already set by the time you finished with the game prologue and had a dinner break. From this point on was when the choices really mattered. The final ending that you are trying to achieve is a hidden ending that doesn’t show up anywhere on the game’s home screen, it doesn’t show up in the game’s picture album, not the trailer, it doesn’t even have a progression bar like the other endings do.

At first glance, the route is completely nonexistent. Luckily for you though, the internet exists, and with it you were able to first hear about the existence of the secret ending. An ending that was never promoted to the general public, and was believed to have been added with the games most recent patch.

You weren’t crazy enough to attempt it without a walkthrough video, that would take too long and you wanted to move on already. With the knowledge you gained after playing throughout every other route, you knew that you had to be careful as to not mess up, otherwise you would end up having to replay entire chapters.

It had greatly surprised you when Akihiko died. You didn’t think it was possible for a love interest to die in this game, especially for the fact that, until that moment, you didn’t think the choices you had made held any real significance.

The walk through was very specific in its instructions. At first, the video followed the basic choices that would lead to the independence ending, an ending that was achieved by having zero to little progress in all of the romance progression bars, it was the first ending that you achieved. Then it started being weird. So weird that at some point you began to wonder if this whole secret ending thing was just a big joke in the community, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t because the next thing you knew, Akihiko Fukumoto was dead. He was the first love interest to die.

The game only got stranger from there. Certain quest areas and vital clues became locked, the atmosphere around the virtual school changed, and one by one the remaining love interests died. The game’s interface also changed. The cherry pinks and romantic aura that it used to have was no more, instead it was replaced with crimson reds, dark hues, and many illusions to a murder scene.

At this point you were almost done with the game. All love interests were dead, and since most of evidence that was supposed to lead us to the culprit behind the murders was lost or never obtained, all that was left to do was to wait for the fire that would burn down the school a fire that would lead to the death of many students, including the last remaining friend of the MC, Akui Minato.

Minato’s character wasn’t an important one. Playing the part of the MC’s childhood best friend and close confidant. It was easy to tell that he liked the protagonist, and many speculated that he was a hidden love interest. A speculation that was quickly dismissed after his death at the end of the game. Nothing was ever confirmed, but people theorized that he was the one behind the murders, all because he loved the MC to an obsessive point. You hoped that wasn’t the case. Predictable endings were your biggest pet peeve when it came to just about anything. Nothing spoils a game more than predictability.

“How long is this going to take?” you muttered exasperated. It was already 7:20 something in the morning and you were tired. The prolonged lack of sleep was getting to you, eyelids were heavy, words on the screen were blurring together, and you were pretty sure you had read the same sentence five times already.

‘There isn’t even anyone else left, why is the ending taking so long?’ you thought to yourself. Playing a romance game with no more romance was becoming very boring, very quickly. By now, you were seated at your desk, the threat of falling asleep on your bed became too apparent to ignore, so you settled with the uncomfortable, wooden chair that sat in your room.

Your boredom wouldn’t last long, though, as the infamous school fire scene was now taking place. The beginning of the event typically started when the MC began getting too close to finding out who the culprit actually was. You thought that maybe there would be no fire, since there was hardly any evidence found to come to any clear conclusions, but a fire still happened.

Like in the many playthroughs you played before, an uncontrollable fire started in the music room, began to spread to several classrooms, and the entire school began to be evacuated. A sensible person would follow suit with all of the other evacuating students, but the MC was not sensible. At the first sound of a girl's cry for help the MC ran in her direction, yelling for direction in the smoke filled hallway.

Dumb. That was how you described her the first time you saw this. Heroic, sure, but dumb nonetheless. It shouldn’t be too surprising, seeing as she is literally a high school student going around trying to solve a murder mystery. But that was kind of why you liked her. She was a bold, but kind, person who wanted to help people, which is why someone had to pull her out of the fire before she got herself killed.

During the fire scene she would go around helping people escape and when she was ready to leave as well, she remembered the evidence that she had collected over the school year. This is when she would rush back in and would have almost gotten trapped if it wasn’t for the love interest of that route pulling her to safety. For the independence ending, since she wasn’t close to any of the capture targets, she got saved by a teacher, which is what you assumed would be the case here, but instead it was Minato who showed up on the screen.

‘Maybe he had a secret ending after all?’ you thought to yourself. ‘But doesn’t he die? Why would he be here? Unless…’ There was no need to finish the thought. Your worst fears had come to fruition.

As dramatic as that sounds, you were still very disappointed with the ending. After escaping the fire with Minato, the screen slowly fades to black, similar to the way a person's vision would blur and blacken when they faint. When the protagonist wakes up, as you expected, she is in a basement. Akui Minato was a yandere.

“Oh, for crying out loud--” You exasperatedly muttered, phone pushed away and head cradled between your hands. Of course he had to be a yandere. What other ending were you expecting? A secret ending where all other love interests die, evidence is lost, and Akui Minato, the childhood best friend, was the only one left alive in the end. It should have been obvious. It was obvious. A game where a girl is trying to solve the mystery behind the various murders that are happening around her. Where her childhood best friend is not a capture target, despite being visibly in love with her. Where the murderer is never found but the best friend dies at the very end. Of course Akui Minato was a yandere, it was obvious. Which is why you’re disappointed.

You inhaled a deep breath, dragging your hands up to your eyes, tiredly rubbing at them. At least she didn’t die, you thought. A bad ending, with all that build up, where every character, including the protagonist, ends up dead would have been a worse way to end the game. You exhaled.

Picking the phone back up, you played through the last part of the game, reading Minato’s crazy monologue with little care. It was pretty basic. Well, as basic as any yandere’s monologue could get. He went on, and on, about how he ‘couldn't live without her anymore.’ That he ‘dreaded the years that she was away.’ And of course he ‘wouldn’t let anyone get between them.’

“Typical.”

When the game ended, and you claimed the final ending picture, you closed out of it and turned your phone off. The sun was now rising and you were left to reflect on how you felt about it, it being a game that you had been obsessively playing for the past couple of weeks. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were disappointed and dissatisfied with how the hidden ending played out. You have seen it done once or twice before and its novelty was beginning to wear off. At least it gave some meaning to Minato’s meaningless character. The game itself wasn’t down right bad, sure, there were a few plot holes in it, and sure, the characters were sometimes basic and cliche, but it wasn’t bad for a free otome game.

Slowly blinking, you tiredly stared at your desk for a second before saying, “Guess it’s time for bed.” Pushing your chair away from the desk, you sluggishly got up and crawled into bed, pulling the comforters over you.

Falling asleep wouldn’t be a problem since you had stayed up all night, but as soon as you felt the comforting embrace of sleep begin to take over, your mother called for you from downstairs, “Y/n!” Jolting up right, you scrambled to get to your feet so as to not leave your mother waiting. As you did so, your feet got tangled in the blankets, tripping you and sending your head downwards right into the corner of your bedside table, and with a sickening, THUD, You sprung awake. Like a dream where you were falling, your body abruptly shot up in bed. The pulse of your heart was rapid and a cold sweat wafted over your body. It was just a dream. You told yourself.

***

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my first published original story on this account. In my time as a writer was always based on fanfiction around other people's stories and characters, but I have my own ideas that I wanted to share as well. I feel kind of worn out from writing fanfiction and find it more draining and less fun than I did when I first started. I have no intention of ever discontinuing any of the fanfics that I have started, I even have several chapters in the works, but right now I want to focus on my own writing. There are several things I need to work on and improve when it comes to my writing but I hope that I can create something here. It has been a few years and I can safely say that I am still fixated on isekai based stories, literally most of my original story ideas are isekai based. I really love the genre and the fish out of water feel that the reader has to over come as well as seeing the reader try and stay out of the original characters lives but still end up mixed in it all. This chapter probably needs a bit more editing before I can say that I am completely satisfied with it but I am proud of it. I know there might be a lot of info-dumping in this first chapter, I might remove some less important things later, and I didn't even go into the main conflict yet and I apologize for that. In my research to be a better writer I have come to learn that an uninteresting first chapter with too much exposition can turn off many readers but I promise that this will probably be the only chapter like this. Chapter updates will probably be inconsistent because I do most of my writing when I have breaks during school or on the weekends, which isn't a lot of time for me to write so it can be hard to get out full chapters, this chapter alone took me a few months to finish but I hope to be quicker with my writing now that I have the frame work fleshed out slightly. Thank you again for reading this and I hope you can give it a heart and comment, just try and be nice, I hope every reader can give my story a chance and continue to follow along with my story and my characters.

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laurenceslife · 2 years

Text

Chapter 10

Larry was playing basketball in the roomy garden of Maurice's orange house. This game went better to Luke than to Larry but he didn’t care too much anymore. There weren't many things anymore that counted for him so much like the acting course. He was happy because he could spend his time doing such a thing that he would earn money by. Then, while playing basketball, he was also thinking about a role that he had to play at the course, when he was hit by the ball.

Before Luke could have said sorry, a tall voice was heard from the door of the house.

- It serves him right! He asked for even worse with his mom who set fire to her house and to Mom! – Lizzy shouted.

In the next moment, the three children noticed that Maurice and Lindsay had arrived home, so they remained silent.

Now they were surely going to rebuke the girl - they thought.

And really this happened.

- So Laurence hasn’t told you that his vicious mom saved her life, that's why she’s lying in hospital – Maurice said furiously.

- I only a little bit got burnt but she much more got injured than me - Lindsay also spoke, in a disappointed but much calmer voice.

- Immediately say sorry to Laurence! - the man continued. Luke and Larry were tensely watching the parents and Lindsay.

- I've seen it when Mom was spreading cream on herself, that how big blotches there are on her belly, arms and back - the little girl flew into a tantrum.

- We've seen Laurence's mom; she has much more and much bigger blotches - Lindsay continued in her previous voice.

We haven't taken Laurence to the hospital because we don't want him to see how much bandages are necessary to put on her because she risked her life for your mother - Maurice said in a low voice.

Larry wasn't even waiting for Lizzy so that she may say sorry later, and wasn't hearing it anymore that her parents were talking to her so she would do it; he just went into the spare-room the family lent him.

He sat down to his bed, and was thinking about Maurice was how much discrediting him for the two children because he told Lizzy that they how much feared for him because of the sight how his mother looked like.

It wasn’t about her being ugly. But how could they think that he couldn’t endure that there were some bandages?! – he thought – And why did Maurice and Lindsay defend him against Lizzy?! Maybe he couldn’t have defended himself?! As an addition, against a seven-year-old little girl?!

He was peering the typewriter in the small room that was full of green colors, and decided not to be that sensitive little boy anymore, and even if he would be, he still wouldn’t let it be visible - In the end, he is a talented actor, and could influence what people could see on him and what they couldn't see - he thought. But why was he peering at that typewriter? - he thought. It was the first time he saw the room where he was going to be living until his mother came home from the hospital. He felt like he should utilize that interesting object but still didn't know what he should use it for.

At least till this moment.

He sat over to the chair, in front of the desk, and began writing. He was writing the events that happened that day and what he felt by them but he was writing them the way he liked. He changed the characters‘ name, look, age… And more and more things. He started to write stories.

Some days later, Hattie had still been broken down when the nurses were changing the bandages on her, and she saw what became of her beautiful, chocolate-brown skin. She had no patience to wait for those blotches to disappear. And Lindsay’s burns may recover, her injuries were less grave than her own ones – she thought.

By reading news and magazines, she tried to divert her attention from those scars that may stay on her forever. She started to definitely give up the hope that Laurence would return to her. She didn’t even dare to think about what if her face would have gotten burnt, too - And what would be when the weather would be hotter, and she would have to wear less clothes? – she thought – How would she go out to the street? And how would she go to the school to teach? The children would surely also ignore her, they wouldn’t listen to her, they would only think of her as a wretched, disabled woman, and they would be too much for her. And everybody would just pity her. The teachers, her friends, the relatives, Maurice… And Larry… That sensitive little boy was going to live in fear because after he and one of his friends were attacked, her mother was taken to hospital, too... Although recently, since he had been let go to see her, it was like he changed… She was proud of him that he how well beard that he saw his mother like that – He got to be like an accomplished big guy – Hattie smiled when thought of it, and even forgot the ugly scars for a while – Otherwise – it came into her head again – if Larry would earn much by acting, she would have enough money to repair these skin-deformities if they wouldn’t be over by the present treatments.

After a while, Lizzy forgave Larry, and he forgave her, too. Although first, it enraged the little boy what she said about his mother, the acting course and writing altogether, effaced the events. When he had some problem, he wrote himself out into a further story, and by it, he felt that he was over it.

Hattie was let out of the hospital soon, so Larry could separate from his temporary family in peace, and had moved home. But sometimes they would surely meet in the future too, how they had also done before the accident.

Hattie’s skin was nicely recovering. She lubricated herself with the cream that the doctor prescribed, and changed her bandages for herself. But it wasn't necessary for a long time. The doctor didn't prescribe any more cream after a while, and Hattie could take the bandages off. But her scars didn't disappear completely. She was desperately watching herself in the mirror, and her tears were flowing. She was standing exactly in front of that mirror that showed her whole body, where she saw herself beautiful after a long time. Her skin was still freckled, which, as an addition, remembered her of every moment of that day's accident. She had made the kitchen fixed since then but it came true what she was afraid of about her skin - It seemed a plastic surgery was necessary - she thought - Which only would be possible to pay from Larry's actor's career.

She always wore long-sleeved shirts and long pants, at home too, it didn't matter how much she got tired of housework. Maurice, Lindsay, her friends and Larry's friends came to their house, too, and she didn't let the blotches be visible, even only in Larry's and Laurence’s presence. Anyway, it was going to be winter soon so covered clothing was also justified. She hadn't even looked in the mirror since she noticed that the scars weren't over; she only moved before the mirror decently dressed, when she applied makeup and tidied her hair up. After a while, she observed about herself that after Larry came home from the acting course, she always asked him about what it was like, how well the tasks were going, and if he wanted her to help him at home to practice for the next occasion. She felt terrible in her heart of hearts because she drove the child so hard even beside school, but kept reassuring herself that it was the boy’s interest, too - In the end, she wouldn’t be the rich actor but her son – she thought – If he would make it at all. Although it still seemed that he was going to succeed in doing it. Hattie several times asked his teacher about how talented he thought Larry, how well he played the roles, and his feedback indicated that he made headway very much, and also, when his mother asked him, Larry also often said at home that he thought acting was also going well that day but he felt like it might be even better by practicing. And sometimes they really practiced the scenes that he had to play at the course. Hattie also noticed how skillfully and life-likely her son performed the roles. Even though she wasn’t proud of her own look, she was proud of her son’s talent, and it compensated her for the scars she hadn't seen for a long time.

One day, when Larry just came home from the course, he said that a show was going to be in the theater for the parents. It was late spring, everybody got dressed that way like it was summer.

- I’m really sorry but I can’t go… - Hattie said to her son in embarrassment. She was wearing a cream-colored, sleeveless top and a dark denim skirt. She couldn’t conceal her blotches from her son anymore, and also, she was forced to go to teach, letting her scars visible. She had to work. But whenever she could, she asked Larry or Laurence to go shopping or to take the refuse out.

That would have put the lid on it if even more people would have seen her blotches – she thought - Especially so many people how many were going to be in the theater to see the show of the acting course - She felt like she couldn’t follow it out. She was ashamed of her scars in the presence of her son, husband and guests, at the school too, and sometimes she even felt by these like she couldn't go on anymore. It would be simply too much for her to undertake even this show. It seemed that Larry wasn’t even surprised at her decision - Maybe he understood it, too, that she couldn’t go there this way, of course – she thought. - Because Fish is gonna be there, too? – the little boy asked. Hattie didn’t even think of it. Larry could have the reason to think that she was in bad with his father, because they never went anywhere together - she thought. - Oh, no, just… I have a lot of… tests to check… Also, anyway, I’ve seen how clever you are, when we’ve practiced at home. - While you push me to practice, to be a huge star and even to sing, and to break records… - Larry was surprised at her mother’s answer.

Then he went to speak to his father about the show, too. During it, Hattie called Maurice to invite him and Lindsay to their house. She felt like she needed to talk this situation over with somebody, and they were closer to her than her husband and her other friends; her mother lived far away, and her sister was having classes.

Maurice was working at the time but Lindsay could be coming. She was wearing a pink, a little bit deep-cut shirt, and a light gray skirt that extended as far as her knees. Her perfect, white skin was more visible in this hot weather than usually. Hattie was envious of her in both respects… Lindsay settled down to the cream-colored leather-armchair next to her like usual, and didn’t even notice Hattie’s low spirits.

- It’s so good that you invited us! – she smiled joyously – I just wanted to share wonderful news with you. It’s a shame that Maurice isn’t here but I can’t keep it inside me anymore! – she laughed.

Hattie suddenly couldn’t even imagine what could happen.

- And what’s that? – she asked curiously. She was a bit disappointed because they weren’t dealing with her problem but she was happy about at least Lindsay was happy.

- We’re expecting a baby – she smiled with a daydreaming look. Hattie was shocked. Somehow this didn’t come into her head. But when she was remembering in what mood Lindsay was before she said it, she realized that she could think it.

And some kind of familiar feeling overcame Hattie.

- Is something the matter? – Lindsay was surprised.

- Just some memories – Hattie stared ahead seriously.

Then everything got to be clean for her. The reason why this information bothered her, was because when she got to know that a child was born to her ex-husband and Lucy, she broke down so much. This was the reason why she got into such a mood that she was just cleaning everything up and cooking without thinking. And also, the accident was because of that.

- My husband is the reason for it – she said loudly, in a troubled voice.

- The reason for what? – Lindsay was even more surprised at Hattie’s behavior.

- He's the reason why I got into such a situation like this. That I can’t even go shopping, I’m not even the one who takes the refuse out, 'cause these damned blotches so much sour my life that I can’t even go to my son’s show in the theater! – Hattie already shouted it, and could hardly hold her tears back. She would just have begun sobbing when it came into her head that then she should be happy about Maurice and Lindsay’s happiness. She shouldn’t cry now - she thought. And she already regretted breaking down so much in Lindsay’s presence who just announced that they were going to have a child.

Lindsay looked at her, frightened and worryingly, and she had no idea what she was talking about.

- Why would he have been its reason? – she asked.

- Do you remember when you came to my house with Maurice, and I was totally broken down because a kid was born to Laurence and Lucy? Of course, she remembered - That was that day when both of them almost burnt to death by the accident that happened in the kitchen – she thought.

- I was just cleaning everything up, and cooking without thinking. He was the reason why I was in such a mood like that. He was the reason why I got injured so much that I was taken to hospital, and you got burnt because of him, too. He is the reason why I have to live with scars on my body now – Hattie said – And this all started when he had a lover. If it wouldn’t have been, he wouldn’t have a kid with her, and we had a normal marriage.

- I don’t believe it! Here we go again. How long ago was it already??? – Lindsay refused to believe.

- I’m sorry; I didn't wanna spoil your good spirits because you two will have a child again. Let’s forget my problem! Which week are you in? – Hattie forced a smile on her face.

- In the second one – the happiness returned to Lindsay’s face.

- And are the kids happy that they’ll have a little brother or sister?

- Lizzy’s looking forward to the baby; Luke's not beside himself with joy too much about even more of us will be in the house. Sometimes he already complains now that he can’t invite too many friends 'cause we’re always in the way. But I think he’ll resign himself to that situation by the time – Lindsay said cheerfully.

- Well, Laurence invites as many friends as he wants when he has time beside the school and beside the acting course at all. Most times I and Laurence arethe ones who are in their way but I usually only work or check texts in my room, and Laurence works and is at his other son's place a lot, so he can' complain about us either.

- Hasn't Laurence started to deal with you yet? I mean as a man – Lindsay asked with pity in her voice.

- No, he hasn't – Hattie answered, embarrassed, and turned her head away.

- What do you mean no? – Lindsay was surprised at it.

- What do you think? – the other one lowered her head.

And it came into Lindsay’s head - The blotches. They always drove at this subject - she thought - Hattie’s life was about nothing else since the accident, but about she desperately tried to cover her scars everywhere she had to go, when she could cover them at all, and when she couldn’t, she lived her life ashamed of her scars.

Both of them were silent for some seconds, then Lindsay began to speak in a low voice:

- Something came into my head – she looked at Hattie in private – When is that show gonna be in the theater?

- One month later – Hattie answered uncomprehendingly - Why?

Lindsay was reflecting again.

- It still should be done – she said - It seems to me that these blotches totally ruin your life.

- Now your hell of a huge idea is that they should be repaired??? It has also come into my head, but there’s nothing to pay it off! – Hattie’s voice was desperate.

- I still haven’t told you what came into my head - Lindsay took her hand - Maurice and I have been considering for a long time, about how to repay you for you saved my life. You got into this situation because of that… Otherwise I would have gotten burnt much more, or I even could have died. So the idea came across my mind that… what if we paid off the plastic surgery for you.

- But that can cost a lot of money… Also, I’ve already said that I was obliged to defend you against the fire I caused at my house.

- You just said that this was your husband’s fault.

- But you said it wasn’t.

- Avast now. You saved my life, and Maurice and I are still grateful to you for it. Believe it or not, we’ve still been talking about it, and we’ve been considering how to repay you for what you did for us. If Maurice doesn’t agree to that, I speak to you, but I’m almost completely sure that he also wants that when I mention it to him.

- But the baby also comes punctually now… How will you two wait for her or his arrival? And with what money will you keep him or her?

- You know that Maurice was just recently promoted so now he earns more money than before, but we didn’t have any money problems before either. We could surely pay for the operation with part payment.

It came into Hattie’s head that she also planned to repay them for Larry started to go to a more serious acting course because Maurice discovered how much talented the little boy was so it was worth to pay it, and Lindsay persuaded her, and everything seemed to indicate that he was going to make a successful actor. She planned to give some money to Maurice and Lindsay of what the boy would earn if he would make it - And now they wanted to give her some money out of gratitude… - she thought.

But she ignored it when it came into her head that by the time, if her son would be a really successful actor, she could give even more money of Larry’s pay, out of gratitude, to Maurice and Lindsay for encouraging her to the very serious preparation for the little boy’s career -Provided that Larry would be living with her then, and Hattie would manage the finances. But she should accept this offer - she thought - This really wasn’t a life this way, and she couldn’t wait for her son to maybe become a famous and rich actor, and for doctors would only then remove those blotches that soured her life.

- If you feel better by it, I accept it. And thank you very much – Hattie said after considering, then she and Lindsay hugged each other.

#laurence fishburne

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jupitermelichios · 3 years

Text

So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

#skyrim #spoilers #technically #although this game is a decade old and we all own at least two versions of it at this point #so i'm not sure it counts #long post

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scarlettriot · 3 years

Text

Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

#mha #bnha #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #kirishima smut #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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starryhyuck · 3 years

Text

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

#nct smut #wayv smut #xiaojun #xiaojun smut

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aoitrinity · 4 years

Text

Why Do I Have to Feel Like a Fucking Conspiracy Theorist -- OR -- How I Find a Semblance of Peace on Sunday Night

I’m also going to start this out with a GIANT DISCLAIMER.

I am about to theorize about what may have happened to the SPN finale. I have absolutely no insider knowledge. I am merely speculating here based on the panels and a bunch of Twitter and Tumblr posts that I have been reading over the last few days. If you are not in a good place to read such things, TURN BACK PLEASE. Go take care of yourself and your mental health. You and your feelings are valid and deserve to be handled gently right now.

Additionally, if you are here to give me shit for being unhappy with the ending, please walk away as well. I am here to reach out and share my feelings with people who might be struggling to make sense of something that upset some of us in very deep-seated ways. I am not here to bother you or critique you or tell you that you’re lesser because you liked the ending. If you felt it was good, then go enjoy it.

Long-ass post beneath the cut, everyone.

Alrighty folks...I debated whether or not to do this because I have been spiraling down the hell that is the SPN finale since Thursday. The travesty of what happened to our show--to this beloved show that seemed to have been so perfectly and precisely written for at least four years that it had basically already paved its own tarmac on which to land its plane and we all thought we knew exactly what we were going to get. And then we didn’t. We had a nigh Cas-less and entirely Eileen-less ending. We had no goodbye between Cas and Jack. We had Dean dying young after finally finding his freedom, only to ascend to heaven with no one but Bobby. We had the weird, weird, weird incest-y death scene. We had the bridge crane shot thing because...sure. You do you, Robert Singer.

It was so terrible, so truly awful, and I couldn’t seem to square any of it with anything we had known going in. I tossed and turned and cried and didn’t eat or sleep all weekend. I spent hours just reloading tumblr and twitter, going to the Misha panel, reading and reading and listening and trying to figure out what the fucking hell is going on because I needed to know exactly where to direct my anger. And after a fuckton of talking with @winchester-reload, I think we have at least a very plausible theory about what happened here--I’m laying it out below as much for my own peace of mind as anything else, because otherwise all of these thoughts are going to continue to spin around in my head for weeks and I won’t be able to do jack shit.

Now to start off, unfortunately I do think Dean was slated to die from the beginning of this season. I don’t know WHY they thought that was the best way to go, and I wish they had listened to Jensen on this one. Part of me wonders if it was an order from on high based on the discussion between Becky and Chuck earlier this season--the writers knew it wasn’t a great choice, but they were trying to signal to us that we should feel free to write our own endings to the story because they’d be better (I can wax poetic on the signs of why many of the writers probably wanted Dean to live, but that’s another post). I’m not defending that choice by any means, just laying it out there that I think they didn’t necessarily all want to kill Dean like they did.

However, what I THINK I can explain now is what happened with Misha and why we got so jerked around with Cas’s story. Consider what we know (I can’t immediately source all of it, but I did my best):

At the end of episode 15x19, Lucifer has been returned to the Empty after being killed AGAIN. He talks with Cas. Maybe harasses him a bit about Dean, idk. But then...Jack shows up. New God Jack. And he picks up Cas and pulls him out of the Empty, leaving Lucifer behind, because seriously. Fuck that guy (also leaving behind his abusive father is character growth for Jack, so yay for that).

-Misha was contracted to film 15 episodes this season. He was only in 14.

-Misha told Michael Sheen he had to go back to film 1.5 episodes after the shutdown in March. (Starts at 6:13)

-Misha was in Vancouver during filming of the finale.

-Mark P said at Darklight Con that the last scene he filmed was with Alex and Misha (and Mark P was only in episode 19).

-Misha implied that he was present for various filming moments, including Dean’s death (start at 35:15), and said that it felt like a “mini-reunion.”

-Various sources have mentioned that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale.

-After episode 18, Stands tweeted a fan who was angered and hurt by Cas's death that they could talk about the “bury the gays” issue after the finale aired.

-In episode 19 we know there were takes of the parking lot scene where the only thing fans observing could hear was Dean yelling “CAS” at Chuck (fuck I can’t find this one right now, but it’s definitely out there)

-Also in episode 19, we had a very strange, awkward montage at the end of the episode.

-In episode 20, we know there were a FUCKTON of missing scenes

-We also had no opening montage, but three other separate montages.

-Carry on My Wayward Son was played TWICE, back-to-back at the end of the episode.

-Episode 20 was shorter than normal and had surprisingly little dialogue. The pacing was VERY strange.

-The cast and crew has been almost completely silent about the finale since it came out. When they have spoken, it has been with an awkward excuse of “Uh...COVID?”

-Samantha Ferris has specifically noted that, despite the Harvelle’s being back in play and a big heaven reunion having been planned pre-COVID, neither she nor Chad Lindberg received any such invitation to return.

-Cas and Dean POP Funko figures were pictured together in a replica of Harvelle’s in 15x04.

NOW with all of this in mind (and I’m probably missing some stuff too because there is so much--feel free to add on to that list), please bear with me because here is what I think we were SUPPOSED to get POST-COVID (after it was determined that the reunion couldn’t happen because of the virus):

In episode 20, we start with our NORMAL OPENING MONTAGE, like always. It traces everything that happened during the season. We are reminded of Cas. The confession. Rowena. Eileen. Jack. Billie, God, the Empty, all of it.

Things then follow along in the episode where they did up until Dean dies and wakes up in heaven. After his conversation with Bobby, he drives off to find Cas (who, in the script, was listed as “Jimmy Novak” in order to protect against script leaks--who wouldn’t want to do their best to avoid spoilers about the finale with the wrapping of a fifteen-year show?). He does indeed find Cas. We get Dean’s end of the confession. Hell, maybe we even get a kiss. And then Dean sets up his new heaven home in the recreated Harvelle’s. Maybe Cas even fucking moves in.

Years pass. We get Sam having his life on Earth (still can’t explain why they cut Eileen and couldn’t even have Sam signing vaguely to the blurry brunette in the background; if anyone wants to take that on, go for it). Eventually, Cas tells Dean that it’s almost Sam’s time. Dean takes Baby and goes to meet Sam at the bridge. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son plays during this much shorter sequence. End of episode.

But that’s not what we got. Instead, much of what I just wrote about was excised from the episode. The remnants were stitched together after shooting had been wrapped. Filler was added in the form of montages and long, unnecessary extra shots to get the episode to something approaching a reasonable length.

But why? Why would they spend all that time and money and quarantining on Misha, only to almost completely cut him out of the finale? I struggled with why the fuck the CW would want this mammoth show to go down as the greatest queerbait in TV history when they had the chance to do something truly beautiful and monumental with it? It couldn’t just be sheer homophobia, right? Well, I think that factored into it, my friends, but here is where my head is at right now.

It was about cold, hard cash.

Now I could be wrong, but this is what I’m thinking at the moment: Supernatural is going off of the air. Supernatural, the CW’s cash cow for fifteen years. Sure there is still money to be made on blu-rays and merchandise and cons...but they need people watching their shows. They need that sweet advertising revenue. And you know what show they have about to premiere? A show that could, potentially, bring with it a chunk of that SPN revenue?

Walker.

And if any of you know anything about the original Walker Texas Ranger, you know that the show was predominantly a show about a very heterosexual white man being very excessively heterosexual. And for SOME REASON over the years, many of the execs at the CW still seem to think that this show, Supernatural, is really attractive to a lot of middle-American white men...whom they desperately want to watch this new show with this guy from Supernatural that they already know.

Now here’s where COVID fucked us. I think Destiel was greenlit by TPTB, at least in SOME form, before COVID. But then the pandemic happened, and they panicked. They got the cut of the last two episodes and watched them in their original, probably queer form. And then, the execs at CW looked at the economy. They looked at their cash cow, about to make its journey to the great beyond. And they looked at this new little calf Walker that they were so desperately worried about. And they made a choice.

They decided that it would be too risky to take the step with Destiel. They were worried about frightening off their ever-so-valuable hetero male demographic with the possibility that a traditionally masculine man in his 40s could be in love with another man in an overt way. It was homophobia mixed with greed, spun up by fear for their revenues because of COVID.

So they called in Singer, possibly Dabb, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they went straight to Singer. They told them that Destiel had to go: executive orders. And the only way to make it go in a way that removed any trace of what had been there was to rewrite what happened to Cas and cut him out from the last two episodes entirely. It was too late to reshoot anything. They had to just cut and stitch and fill with bullshit montages.

They removed the scene at the end of 19, probably because Cas and Lucifer discussed Dean. All that was left of Misha there was his voice on that fake phone call. They may have cut other things too, but I would bet my life that they cut a scene from the end of the episode and replaced it with that very strange montage. Then they moved onto 20. They cut out every scene with Cas. And left in only two platonic mentions of him, neither made by Dean. They tried to imply that Cas might show up in Dean’s heaven at some point, but that was as far as the editors could go in the time they had. They filled in with montages, awkwardly long shots, anything they could do to fill all of those missing scenes.

And they even had to take the opening montage, because literally everything in it pointed to Cas being there at the end of it all. They wouldn’t be able to leave out his scenes, they were too critical to the season. They couldn’t cut his confession without raising eyebrows. So they cut the whole thing and moved “Carry On My Wayward Son” to one of the newly-added driving montages at the end. Which is why we awkwardly had both songs play back-to-back--again, such a strange choice unless they were out of options and couldn’t exactly buy rights to a new track or compose anything else.

And so we were left with the shadow of the finale that we deserved, that Cas and Dean deserved. We were left without resolution or happiness or words. Bobo told us the most important thing about happiness is just “saying it” and our characters were silenced without anyone ever knowing the truth.

I think the writers might have known and been given the new party line that “Misha never filmed, he couldn’t, sorry, it was COVID, no one’s fault!” But I don’t think most of the cast even knew it had happened until they watched the finale on Thursday with us (though they might have been confused why the bit from 15x19 was sliced, they could reasonably have assumed it was a time thing and also BL episodes don’t make sense anyway). Why do I say that?

Well, first of all, Misha started sending out a bunch of excited texts to fans with some old BTS pictures about an hour before the show started airing on EST. He also wanted his children to see the episode, his YOUNG children. Why would he show them such a traumatic episode if their Dad wasn’t in it? What if it was because he wanted them to witness what was going to be a monumental moment in queer television history that their DAD got to be a part of? And then that was all dashed.

Which is why I think the cast and crew went almost completely radio silent the next day. I don’t think they knew. And based on how they have been acting on social media since then, I think many of them are absolutely furious, but they have been silenced because of NDAs, because they want to find work again in a cutthroat industry, because they don’t want to bring down the hellfire of Warner Brothers Entertainment upon themselves. So the most we have gotten is a little acknowledgement from the MERCHANDISING COMPANY trying to validate our pain (god bless Shirts, she is a LIFESAVER) and a response to my salty tweet about keeping good stuff in the closet from Adam Williams (the VFX coordinator) that seemed to acknowledge the validity of my complaint.

Then there was a scramble behind the scenes, I would bet my life. Talking points were fed to the boys who had panels today, to CE, to all the cast and crew:

Toe the party line. Misha never filmed. This was always about COVID. Do not mention Destiel. Do not mention Dean’s feelings for Cas. Do not promote the Castiel Project or anything that validates the idea that this was anything less than a superb ending.

And that is why we have heard so little from the cast on this front, and what we have heard has been muddled and contradictory. That is why the writers are saying nothing. That is why we have been left adrift.

Now before I close this out, I do want to say that I really, genuinely do not think this was on the writers at all. I feel like they tried to give us the best ending that they could, in a writers room that we know is notorious for splitting along party lines about the overall story (BL and Singer, who have always been about the brothers and their man-pain vs. Dabb and the rest who always seemed to want more for them and for Cas). I think they did everything in their power to at least end with Dean and Cas happy together. If they could give us nothing else, they wanted to give us that. And then the network took it from them. From us. From everyone.

For the sake of fucking money.

And the WORST PART OF IT ALL, for me, is that in the wake of this disaster, the fans have been left to try and figure out what happened. We have had to wade through a mire of conflicting information in the midst of all of our collective anger and grief over this garbage ending of a show many of us have loved and even relied on for YEARS, all the while wondering if we’re just fucking crazy, if we have all fallen collectively into the hole of conspiracy theories. That hurts ESPECIALLY badly because we have taken so many hits over the years from other groups on social media saying we were crazy for seeing things that weren’t there (especially Destiel), for writing meta and analyzing tropes and believing the evidence of our eyes and ears. The network has made us relive that entire nightmare WHILE processing our grief for a show we wanted so badly to celebrate and which instead we now have to mourn.

So again guys, I cannot prove that this is exactly what happened at all; this is simply my idea of what may have happened. But right now, it’s the most sense I can make from this mess, and to be honest, the act of typing it out has helped me enormously in my processing of it all. I feel like I can see more clearly, like I know where to target my outrage and where to direct empathy. I feel like just fucking maybe, I might be able to do my job tomorrow without bursting into tears at random moments.

I really hope that this post has helped some of you to, in some small way, process this too. We get through this the way that Misha told us at his panel this morning, the way the writers have told us to do all season long...we throw out the story God gave us and we make it better. We write our characters the happy endings they deserve.

We save them.

One last thing--if you have not already, please consider channeling your rage into a donation to one of the five causes our fandom has put together to pay tribute to our beloved show and to mourn the ending it should have had:

-The Castiel Project

-Dean Winchester is Love

-Sam Winchester Project

-The National Association of the Deaf

-The Jack Kline Project

#supernatural season 15 #spn finale #speculation #destiel #destielgate #the ending was not the ending #fuck the cw #trust the story #we were robbed

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tomboy-writer · 3 years

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Prompt: Chris Evans story where your boyfriend is a cheating douche-bag. He cheats on you time and time again and you get into a bit of a depression. You confide in your best friend, Chris Evans. His consoling leads to sex, the sex soon turns into a regular thing and you get happy again. Your boyfriend sees your change and promises that he will never cheat again and that he will treat you better. You’re happy but sad at the same time because now you have to break things off with Chris. But Chris won’t have it; he says that you should stay with him and not your boyfriend. You’re not sure of which decision to make, so Chris lists off reasons why you would be better off with him.

Chris Evans x black!reader

A/N: my first Chris Evans story!! Let me know what you guys think of it.

A/N 2: I started this story a few years ago and it took me a long time to finish cause I was on a very long writing hiatus and didn't finish this until earlier this year, so some of the story goes off of what the summary says and I decided to turn this into 2 parts (could be more, depending on how long the 2nd part is). So no smut in this part, just angst and dumb jokes. This also originally wasn't going to be a black reader story, but seeing how my ACTUAL 1st Chris Evans story went pretty well (the Game On story) I decided to make it another one cause I love it.

C/W: angst, swearing, my dumb jokes, 3rd person story (it hurt my brain to write it this way, but I wanted to try something different)

“He did it again, Chris! Michael cheated on me with some big titted chick,” Y/N said as she sobbed into her best friend’s shoulder.

Chris rubbed his friend’s back, trying to calm her down. He knew how to handle situations like these since Y/N went through so many of them with her boyfriend. Chris thought her relationship with Michael was like a broken record: always repeating itself. It was good at first with the couple being so obviously in love, but that changed six months later when Michael decided that Y/N wasn’t enough and started to cheat on her with multiple women. Y/N had been given advice by Chris countless times about guys like Michael and she listened to him, she really did. But she always ended up forgiving her unfaithful boyfriend and enjoyed the makeup sex that Michael would give her after.

“He and that big titted chick can both go to hell for all I care,” Chris replied. Then he lifted his friend’s head from his shoulder and made her look directly in his eyes. “Hey hon,” he said using his ‘friendly’ nickname for Y/N. “I think it’s about time you dropped that lame ass zero and got yourself a hero.”

“Okay, Captain America,” Y/N chuckled while wiping her face.

Chris laughed too, but deep down he was really hoping that Y/N would actually consider dating him. They met seven years ago and became fast friends. But the bearded actor didn’t count on falling for Y/N a few years later when he was doing an interview for one of his new movies and Y/N was there to help support him and make sure his anxiety didn’t get the best of him. While in the middle of the interview, Chris started to feel a little fidgety, so he tugged on his ear; a sign that told Y/N that he needed her help. She was standing right behind the cameraman, so Y/N could see everything that Chris was doing. She saw the signal and started to make some weird faces for her best friend.

Y/N made Chris and the interviewer crack up that day, especially when she stood right behind the cameraman and started to bulge her eyes out at him, making him laugh as well. At that moment, Chris realized that he had found that special someone. That special someone that he wants to spend the rest of his life with and just keep forever, never let go.

Y/N was sweet, considerate and loved Disney movies and dogs as much as he did. So he felt that she was just perfect for him. He even started to mentally kick his ass for taking so long to realize this.

The interviewer asked Chris one last question before he had to leave.

“So, Chris, is there a special lady in your life? Ya know, besides your mother and sisters,” she asked.

Chris chuckled and looked right in Y/N’s direction with a bright smile on his face. “Well, I don’t have anyone yet,” the blonde answered, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s, “but I’m looking for her.”

“Chris? Chris, did you hear me,” Y/N asked suddenly, stopping Chris from remembering the day he fell for her.

Evans shook his head no. “Sorry, I zoned out for a few seconds.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I said I would love to find a new boyfriend, but I’m still in love with Michael.” Chris rolled his eyes this time. “Don’t do that, man. I can’t help that these are my feelings for him.”

“But what are your feelings for him right now! Aren’t you sad? Pissed? Or feeling like you just wanna punch that douche-bag in the face so hard that his face caves in a little bit?”

Chris’s friend nodded her head yes and started to sob again. He felt bad for making Y/N cry; he would never want to make her tears fall from her eyes unless they were tears of joy. He grabbed Y/N and embraced her for a few minutes until she was calm again. Once was she was, Chris pulled away from Y/N enough to look her in her eyes.

“Hey, promise me that you’ll forget about that douche for at least two weeks and just try to find someone better. Okay?” Chris begged with sincerity in his eyes.

“Okay,” I promise,” Y/N complied.

Chris kissed Y/N’s head and, after saying goodbye, left his friend’s house for the night.

* * *

Chris returned to Y/N’s house a few weeks later. He rung the doorbell and heard a faint ‘it’s open’. Evans opened and closed the door behind him and blushed at the sight in front of him: there stood Y/N, wearing only a pair of boy shorts and an over sized t-shirt, no makeup. That’s when Chris thought, no knew, that Y/N was the most beautiful woman out there.

"Hi Chris," Y/N greeted her best friend with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Evans couldn't help the blush that crept onto his face. He also couldn't help but to imagine if he and Y/N were together and he'd come home from being on set all day long, her greeting him the same way she was now except that she'd try to pull back a little to ask him about his day. But Chris would hold his lover in a tight embrace, kiss her so lovingly, so passionately, and ask about her day instead.

Yeah, Christopher Robert [Jamal] Evans would love that.

"Hey, Y/N," Chris replied as he breathed in the embrace. "How've you been lately?"

"A little bit better; not fully okay, but I'm getting there I think," Y/N answered.

Chris shook his head in disbelief. He knew when his best friend was lying to him. "Y/N," he whispered, "I can see in your eyes that you're hurting more than letting on. You sure you're doing fine?"

Y/N's smile was quickly replaced with a small frown. "I'm doin' fine, Evans," she answered, mocking Chris's Boston accent. "And, before you ask, yes I have went on a few dates with other guys; three to be exact. First guy wouldn't shut up about his ex-wife; like I was supposed to be his therapist or something. Second guy -this gorgeous dreadhead- we connected and shit, but he too wouldn't stop talking about his ex and his table manners were terrible." You rolled your eyes before finishing your list. "Last but not least, I went on date with Mr. I-Got-Tons-of-Money-Baby. We didn't connect at all and I'm sure it was cause of his cocky attitude and the way he talked down to people -it was disgusting! " The dateless woman flounced into her big living room and plopped down onto her L-shaped sofa. "Trying to find a new man is pointless, Chris. Either I start dating women cause why the fuck not!? Or I just give up on love all together."

Chris chuckled but then nervously cleared his throat after he came up with a great -but what he also thought was a heart attack inducing- idea. "Y/N," he stammered.

"Yeah, man?"

"If the whole thing with you dating females doesn't work out, but you still want to try to find love, then I know exactly who you should date next."

Y/N gave Chris a questionable look. He didn't say anything back, just raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously. It took Y/N a few seconds to understand what Chris was talking about. But once she did, her mouth went into an O shape, showing her shock and surprise.

"Are you serious, Evans," Y/N exclaimed; eyes now wide as golf balls. "You wanna date me!?!"

The actor chuckled. He didn't think that his friend would be so shocked by his words. "I've been wanting to date you basically almost ever since we first met, Y/N. I just- -I just never knew what to say to you about it, or if you felt the same way or not and if you didn't then I didn't want to ruin our friendship, or if you did feel the dame way but then something bad happens to us down the road and then that messes with up our friendship and then there's the thing with paparazzi..." Chris was rambling on and on but Y/N was listening to everything he was saying. Hanging onto every word that was coming out of her best friend's mouth.

Y/N had never known that Chris had felt this way about her. It wasn't that she was completely oblivious (well, maybe a little), but she also never saw any signs of her friend being in love with her. Wait. Was Chris in love with Y/N? As far as she knew -or as far as she thought from what she was told so far- this was just a crush. A crush confession that apparently was a long time coming. She wondered how she felt for Chris; did she have the same feelings for him like he did for her? When they first met, all Y/N cared about was how Chris acted as a person, not as Captain America or as an actor in general. But as Chris Evans, an everyday man. Y/N knew, after that one day of meeting Evans, that she wanted to be best friends with the man, nothing more and nothing less. But now, with Chris' confession and continuous ramblings, Y/N was having different and a little bit confusing thoughts.

Sure Chris Evans is an very attractive man, physically speaking. But Y/N doesn't care about looks -much- when it comes to dating or anything for that matter. She thinks what makes people attractive is their personality more than anything, and she knows Chris has the best personality she's ever seen from a person. But she wasn't sure if she was ready to date him or anyone else for that matter. Although, if Y/N was going to date more, then Chris would probably be her number one pick.

"So, what do you say, Y/N," Chris asked, hopeful.

______________________________________________________________

And that's the end of part 1, everyone. Part 2 will be posted....probably next week or so. It is currently one of my WIPs so I'm definitely working on it.

But what do ya'll think will happen next? What will Y/N's answer to Chris be? Will she say yes, or will she say no? Who knows??? Except for me; I know. Also, you're Y/N; Y/N is you, so you better hope that you say something positive back :P Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this! Thanks for reading!!

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #angst #black writing #black reader #chris evans x black!reader #friends to lovers #chris evans fanfiction #christopher robert jamal evans

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keysmashingfantasies · 3 years

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Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N: i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad).

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie!

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”. After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

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