#because usually brain too mush to communicate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thevampirekeke · 3 months ago

Text

Breaking rules

Warnings: bad and out of character writing like usual, slight angst, emotional hurt/comfort, lack of communication, very very VERY brief mention of domestic abuse (y/n mom is a survivor!), crying, use of y/n, reader is shorter than Adrian. Probs not as long as I thought it was but it took a whole day to write so CHEERS!!

Additional tags: hurt/comfort, miscommunication, angst with happy ending, fluff, coworkers to lovers (do as y/n says not as they do), I try to write gn!reader but might have moments where I slip up.

Summary:

You knew something was starting to form and you were treading a line that you swore you’d never cross as long as you lived in Gotham. your feelings for Adrian flooded you like a tsunami,You tried to ignore it at first, rationalize it in anyway you could. he was your coworker, it was simply from being around him so much, plus you rarely find nice guys from Gotham.

After all that’s exactly what he was. A guy from Gotham.

You always told yourself you’d never date anyone while living in Gotham. Your mother had met your father while living here and that ended in bruises and tears and since then you knew that any guy or girl in Gotham would be bad news. So you made that pact with yourself And it has yet to be broken for the last 3 years. Sure you slept with someone once or twice but usually you leave before they wake up and never give them any way to contact you.

However that doesn’t mean you can’t look, there is never anything that comes from finding someone attractive. You acknowledge it in your head then move on. Honestly, you think of it as window shopping and usually if you see that person again you don’t pay them any mind.

Yet every time that damn busboy walks through the door you can’t help but watch him make his way over to the other busboy to switch out for the day. You believed it was innocent, you told yourself you were just being observant. Of course you thought he was handsome but you didn’t think any deeper than that. You’ve never even talked to him, you don’t even know his name. He’s always coming in to start his shift right as you are leaving yours anyways.

So, why did he always catch your attention?

You knew you were starting to approach a line you had drawn years ago when he walked into the break room one day while you were digging through your bag. You glanced over at him and your heart bumped a little stronger at his presence. Your eyes trailed over him, the polo you were all required to wear fit loosely on him, however you could tell by the way his forearms stretched and moved as he reached around his cubby that he wasn’t scrawny. He turns to face your direction as he stretches and -you guess- prepare himself for the day. You land on his name tag and it reads ‘Adrian’ you let it roll over all around your head, it bounces around in different pitches and tones. Your eyes trailed back up and your met with his. The first thought you had was that his glasses looked really good on him, way too good. The second thought you had was your brain screaming at you to look away. You were staring at him and you didn’t realize it till it was too late. He smiles widely at you and waves “y/n right?”

Oh no. His voice was nice, so nice your stomach felt like it was swirling around almost as if it became a hot bubbling whirlpool. “I- uh- I’m- ye- um-“ you can’t get yourself to speak properly, it all rushes out in one mushed unfinished sentence. you worry for a second that this is a stroke. Thankfully your brain comes in and saves you and you clamp your mouth shut before you can embarrass yourself more. Your lips are pulled into a tight thin line and your hands are balled anxiously at your sides. They are sweating and they grow even more sweaty because you know it wasn’t this hot before he walked through the door. You simply nod with a very tight “mhm” before grabbing your bag and walking out. You hear a quick “oh co-“ but it’s cut off short as the exit door slams behind you. You rush to your car and are quick to head home.

If your brain was filled with chanting of ‘Adrian, Adrian, Adrian,Adrian-‘ you didnt acknowledge it in fear of what it may bring.

You had asked about him the next day. you honestly didn’t mean to. You and your coworker and friend, Claire, were sat at a booth rolling silverware before your shifts ended. The conversation you had both been having prior about the new girl she had been seeing recently he had died down and your brain and mouth were moving before you could regain control. “What’s that Adrian guy like?” You ask and it catches her off guard, you never ask about people unless it’s someone’s she is talking about. She gives you a strange look “like- you mean chase? The bus boy?” You nod and feel a small ball of shame fill your stomach at her tone “why? He’s a weirdo who’s obsessed with all that crime fighting, hero stuff. I think he has a thing for-“ she says and you are quick to cut her off with a high pitched “Claire!!” Just as Adrian walks through the break room door. She quiets down and glances between you and him before settling on you, picking at the dry skin around your nails. “Im just curious” you say, her eyes soften a bit as she looks at you and she sighs “well he’s been working here for a bit-“ she begins telling you what she knows.

honestly, you felt bad for the guy. from how Claire had described him you could tell a lot of people didn’t give him a chance. She said he was loud and vulgar, always making stupid jokes nobody found funny. Still as Claire expressed her grievances of working with him, you simply nod and hum along in acknowledgment. After all you probably wouldn’t ever work with him. Right?

Wrong.

your manager pulls you into his office one morning- he asks you to sit down and explains that your schedule would need to be moved around due to someone quitting and them now being short staffed. You were the only one who hasn’t said no yet. Instead of early mornings you would be working evenings along side the busboy Adrian. You guessed you had a look on your face because He was quick to keep talking and explained that the evening shifts were usually really slow due to the main business hours being breakfast and dinner. “Plus chase isn’t that bad, just an… acquired taste” he adds on trying to sugar coat it but still your heart squeezes at the unfair description.

That wasn’t your worry though, honestly, you didn’t care who you were working with even if it was the bus boy who had caught your attention. it was more the annoyance of the routine you had become so used to being flipped on its head. Still, you agreed and left the office with a copy of your new schedule in hand and your manager telling you to clock out early since you’d be starting your new schedule the next day.

Your first shift with Adrian had started warily. You entered the break room through the parking lot door to find Adrian already throwing his stuff into his assigned cubby. He glances over at you and offers a wide smile. You quickly glance away and rush over to clock in and then to your cubby. Once you are settled in you keep your eyes down walking towards the door that lead to your hell for the next few hours. You reach for the door knob but instead your hand meets with Adrian’s. You both pull back quickly as if the other is made of fire “sorry-“ you quickly blurt out stepping back for him to go through the door. An amused laugh leaves his mouth and he pulls the door open “don’t be sorry, I always enjoy holding hands with pretty people” he says, gesturing for you to go through the door. You feel like a fire just sprung from the ground under you and engulfed you. You quickly thank him and rush through the door.

The first two hours consisted of him talking. You found out Claire was right, he was loud, making many stupid jokes while you quietly worked. However you didn’t feel the annoyance that Claire had expressed. He was kind and constantly offered to help you out whenever he’d see you busing a particularly messy table or holding a tray that looked too stacked with plates. Never making you feel bad for when you did actually need the help.

You rarely needed help throughout the day though, Your manager was right, evening shifts were boring and slow. So as two hours turned to three and three turned to four Small questions of “do you need help?” turned into long drawn out conversations full of laughter from his ridiculous jokes. You rarely joked back though, not finding any confidence in your humor to do so. you made up for by being an attentive and responsive listener, asking questions whenever he brought something new up. You found yourself enthralled in everything thing he says.

After a few more hours, finally, it was getting close for evening shifts to switch with those working into the very early hours the next morning. You thank whatever is out there for not making you part of dinner/grave yard shift, knowing your sanity would become thin from the hours. You focus back in on your task at hand. You are filling condiments at the tables, the restaurant is empty even though you are still open. the only noise is the old dad rock music playing over the speakers and you pumping ketchup from the giant container into a small red bottle. Adrian is sweeping the floor, you keep taking glances at him. You cant stop finding things about him that makes your stomach flip. The way his glasses would slip just the slightest bit and he’d scrunch his nose in an attempt to get them back up to their original spot, had become your favorite thing you’ve noticed so far. Your brain short circuits and repeats.

Your favorite thing.

You haven’t even known the guy for a day and yet you are already claiming things about him as your favorite. You subconsciously click your tounge against your teeth in annoyance at yourself and look away from him. He must have heard the noise because he looks up at you. you hope he doesn’t say anything and hyper focus in on your task. The world must really want you to suffer because you go to hit the pump of the ketchup and it stays locked in place, another sound of annoyance leaves you. “are you ok?” He asked and you curse under your breath, pressing down on the pump afew times trying to get it to move again. “Yeah just-“ you start, palm hitting the pump harder, this time using one big strong push to get it to press down. Still nothing. “This damn ketchup stopped working, I think the pump broke” you say in frustration.

You hear footsteps approaching and you turn to be met with Adrian’s chest “oh-“ you breath out, this time Adrian must not hear because he reaches behind you to grab the container. He moves positions so he is now stood next to you. His hip meets yours with a quick bump that has electricity flying through you. You take the hint and step to the side giving him full access to the table. You take a seat in the booth and watch as he messes with the pump, twisting it afew times before pressing down on it. It must press down easier than he expected because ketchup comes flying out the opening and hits you. You shriek and Adrian lets out a loud “oh fuck-“ you gag as the smell of ketchup hits you.

It’s a blur of movement you jump up from your seat and gag more as the ketchup seeps into the fabric of your shirt sticking to your skin.

Adrian is quickly yanking napkins out of the dispenser you just filled quickly pressing them to your chest, a rush of ‘I’m SO sorry’ leaving his mouth over and over. You are stuck in your spot too overwhelmed by your disgust and discomfort to notice him hurriedly wiping the ketchup off of you. He glances up at you and you both freeze for a moment eyes locking, it’s broken by Adrian’s eyes widening at the position you are both in, realizing where he’s wiping the ketchup from. He quickly pulls back and more waves of ‘im sorry’ fly at you, he expects you to yell at him but instead he is met with a snort.

Your hand shoots up to your mouth to stop yourself from laughing but you fail and double over in laughter. He watches you, awestruck, for a moment. you gasp for air between your laughs and gag as you smell ketchup again this time your hand shoots to your nose and you grab more napkins with your free hand to rub at your ketchup stained polo “oh god-“ your laughter has died down into small giggles bubbling out from your mouth “I forgot how much I hate the smell of ketchup” you say locking eyes with him once again. It’s his turn to laugh “I don’t think it’s broken anymore” he chuckles.

From that day on you decided Adrian chase wasn’t as bad as Claire made him seem. Over the next two weeks you two grew closer. Helping when actually needed quickly became turning any task, no matter how easy, into a two man job. Your manager had even scolded you both for filling up napkin holders together, a task that usually required one person to complete and took 5 minutes. You couldn’t lie and even if you could you would still be telling the truth when you said you enjoyed his company. You enjoyed it more than anyone you have ever known, more than Claire and more than your friends back home. infact, you even found his stupid jokes funny.

Ontop of that he found YOU funny, it was something new. It’s not like you didn’t joke around with people, You would of course make jokes with Claire but rarely did they land the way you wanted them to. Though Claire would laugh you knew she only did it out of love for you and not wanting to hurt your feelings. With Adrian however they always landed and make him laugh, his laugh felt genuine. the day he first laughed at one of your jokes it made your heart jump into your throat in a way you were sure it was going to fly out and land right into Adrian’s hands, a note taped to it saying ‘keep me 4ever’.

He was scrubbing at the table complaining about how the people who had just been sat there had been rude to you, not only rude but they were down right offensive too. you could tell he was holding back on how deep his annoyance actually went. You had heard their comments too you were their waitress after all. They kept talking about the chefs in the back and their horrible assumptions of them. Their questioning of you and the food as if they were in a Michelin star restaurant and not a greasy unkept diner in the middle of Gotham made you both want to scream.

“If I had known you hated them just as much as I did I would have gone out and poured hot oil in their gas tank and syrup on the engine” it really wasn’t even that funny of a joke, it was more to humor yourself than anyone else. Still Adrian smiled and looked at you with a brow raised “not to be a downer on your plan babe, but I think their car would probably malfunction and they would crash” he huffed out past a small laugh. You are sure you died for a second, your mouth softly repeats the word. ‘Babe’.

you stare down as if in a trance, he looks at you when you don’t respond as quickly as he expects. This makes you snap out of it, you force your warming face to form a menacing smile “yeah, so we should have poured hot oil in their gas tank and syrup on their engine” you repeat putting more emphasis on the plan. you know it’s not funny, yet a laugh rips past Adrain’s mouth and you watch at his shoulders bounce up and down as he laughs.

The heat hits you in a wave and your heart picks up a bit. You’re glad you don’t blush and your face can’t turn red, because you can feel your cheeks tingling. You giggle alongside Adrian as you both continue talking.

You tried to ignore how everyday you’d come into your shifts excited for nothing other than Adrian. After a month Your talking during work soon turned into you both sitting in the warmth of one of your cars. Talking about anything you can think of until you both have no choice but to go home. When you weren’t face to face you were constantly texting eachother, your brain now instantly thinking of Adrian Anytime you see the merman emoji. You knew something was starting to form and you were treading a line that you swore you’d never cross as long as you lived in Gotham. your feelings for Adrian flooded you like a tsunami,You tried to ignore it at first, rationalize it in anyway you could. he was your coworker, it was simply from being around him so much, plus you rarely find nice guys from Gotham.

After all that’s exactly what he was. A guy from Gotham.

So how come you don’t say no when he asks you to go over to his house? You are sat in his car. You are both turned towards each other Your seat is reclined and you have your legs pulled up to your chest, shoes kicked off and sitting on the floor so you wouldn’t ruin his seats. A habit you picked up after complaining about your feet hurting due to your new shoes, to which Adrian told you to take your shoes off and get comfy.

As you two talk small giggles slip out of you, Adrian isn’t saying anything particularly funny, but the excitement in his voice and the closeness makes you feel giggly as you listen to him ramble on about one of his favorite movies. “-and the ending- oh my god! The ending is amazing I won’t tell you cause I don’t want to spoil it- BUT! you just have to trust me and watch it, babe. It will change your life!” You nod your head as you listen. That became a common for him. To call you babe and not think anything of it, you on the other hand, had to fight to breathe everytime he said it. “I’ll watch it tonight when I get home!” You say smiling widely.

This causes Adrian to glance at the clock and his excitement deflates a little, your eyes follow and it’s 7:30 almost two hours since you both have gotten off of work “it’s getting kinda late now huh?” He questions and you smile “I don’t mind sitting here longer…” you let your voice trail off and you glance out the window next to you “I like talking to you” you say hoping it was too quiet for him to hear. He doesn’t say anything to that but you can hear the smile in his voice as he starts talking “you should come over to my house, I have the streaming service for that movie so we can watch it together at my house” he suggests.

your mouth drops open as you go go to respond but instead only a “uhhh-“ comes out, you see Adrian’s confidence drain and you beg your brain to start working again “you probably just want to go home and sleep. I can just text you my log in” he scrambles for a way to save himself, he reaches for his phone and your brain finally powers back on “NO! no!” You cringe at the earnestness in your voice. You want to go, god you want to go and never leave. You don’t tell him this and instead clear your throat and smile “I think that sounds fun, but we have to stop at the gas station and get snacks first” at this Adrian smiles widely and legitimately fist pumps with a small but triumphant ‘yess!!’

You guys talk for afew more seconds before you both buckle in and Adrian puts his car into drive. That night you both stock up on gas station snacks- you make a mental note of the one he mentioned is his favorite- and watch the movie, one movie turns into two and two to three and by the middle of the third one you were fighting the urge to sleep. Your Head falling to the side jerks you awake and you rub at your eyes hoping Adrian didn’t notice. If he did he didn’t say anything, he only hesitates for a moment before letting his arm fall over your shoulders. You know you should back up, set a boundary now even if you don’t want to set it. But sleep weighs too heavy, you simply let your head fall into him and your eyes close.

You knew it was really bad and you were stepping over that line when movies at his place became something you guys did almost every other day. You especially knew you were screwed when cuddling on his couch became a common occurrence aswell. He occupied your every thought and you began hating the days you couldn’t see him. your days off went from being something you looked forward to, to something you tried not to think about. Your days off meant no Adrian, and no Adrian meant you’d spend your days thinking about him. What he was doing with his day off? did he hang out with anyone outside of work? Your thoughts would wander as you sat on your couch watching tv.

What if he is on a date?

Your eyes widen as this thought crosses your mind. Your heart tightens at the idea and you swear you hear it crack as you imagine him holding onto an unknown partner. You don’t just cross the line, you are throw several feet past it, so far you couldn’t see it anymore. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you liked Adrian. No- not just that you wanted him for yourself.

You spent weeks keeping it secret, ignoring it. You are hunting for that line trying to drag yourself back over it to the side you knew and took comfort in. But you were simply too far gone. Your attraction to him. Your need to see him outside of work. Your questions on if and who he’s seeing. You feel borderline crazy how quickly he’s taken over your mind.

It doesn’t help that Adrian has you questioning if he feels the same. Your body is always on fire by the end of the day. Your brain searing every time he touches you in your memory, in fear of forgetting how warm his hands are. You constantly think of how he now calls you babe in that way that makes you go all stupid. You don’t notice it at first, but now you are hyper aware of every interaction after that night. you notice just how much you two touch and you question if you’ve gone to straight up delusional. You began to count every time your shoulders and elbows bump when you were both leaned in gossiping to each other. You will your body not to tense up screaming to yourself to relax the first time Adrian lets the side of his body press fully into yours not moving away as you two remain arm to arm.

You told yourself you were thinking about it too much, it was just friendly contact. That was until you were walking past the sever station and a voice catches your attention “Hey could you pass me two rolls of silverware?” Adrian asks leaning over the short wall separating the booths that were next to each other. You glance down at his arms and watch his muscles flex as he crosses them and lets them rest on top of the wall. You are quick to look away, so quick you don’t even notice how Adrian follows your eyes down to his arms. You reach into the bin and grab two rolls.

“Here you go, it’s going to cost you 20 bucks though” you tease handing him the two napkin wrapped utensils. He unfolds his arms and grabs them, his fingers land just slightly on your hand, but it’s enough of a touch to make your brain scream over and over again. You can’t quiet focus in on it but you are sure it’s a mixture of ‘Oh MY GOD’ and ‘what is this???!’ He holds on for a few seconds longer than normal, his eyes meeting yours. They burn with something you can’t quite put your finger on but whatever it was comes off intensely. “20 bucks!? Damn babe, I knew you only love me for my money” he jokes, and that��s exactly it you remind yourself, a joke. Yet as he walks off, you can’t help but repeat how he says babe and question how you could ever think of his actions as just friendly.

You weren’t even able to bus your tables across the room from him peacefully anymore. Your mind always subconsciously having you glance up at him. You throw your rag into the gray tub full of dirty dishes and cups you had collected. You look up at him one last time before you head into the kitchen with a gift of dirty forks and plates for the dishwasher on staff that day.

You look at Adrian but find him already staring at you. Your eyes lock onto each other and you expect him to look away. However, he keeps eye contact and smiles widely at you. You are concerned for a moment that you haven’t thought about writing a will yet because you swear you were about to die with how hard your heart was beating and how weak your knees became. You smiled back before quickly rushing across the room and into the kitchen.

It’s like this for the next two weeks. Tonight it just like any other you are both sat in his running car. However, tonight he’s heavily occupied with his phone. He’s talking your ear off, you don’t think he could stop even if he wanted to, but something is off. The first time his phone lights up you see a text notification, you don’t look at it too closely not wanting to invade his privacy, instead you take notice of how his face lights up. He quickly texts back and puts his phone back down. Not even a few minutes it lights up again and he answers then Quicker than before it lights up AGAIN and he answers. Quickly the time inbetween texts turns into his phone taking permanent residence in his hand as he types away. His face becomes serious for a moment and he glances at you, then his phone once more.

You go to ask him if everything is ok but he beats you to it “im sorry- I have something I need to go do” he says hurriedly. You glance at the clock 6:30 only an hour after you guys got off work “oh- ok. Um yeah give me a sec” you say as you grab your shoes and slip them back on your feet “is everything ok?” You question. He nods and smiles at you “peachy keen, babe” he says.

You are left reeling as you stand in front of the now empty parking spot. The goodbye and speed it took him to take off was all to fast, you feel like you just go thrown into the deep end of a pool. Cold comes crashing into you and you hurriedly rush to your car.

When you make it home you are quick to kick off your shoes and pull your phone out of your pocket. One hand locking the door while the other types in your password and navigates you to your texts with Adrian.

Your fingers dance across the keyboard. ‘Hey, was everything ok?’ Is the first thing you type out but you are quick to delete it. ‘Are you ok? I hope I wasn’t being weird or anything’ But it was quick to be deleted as well. Finally you settle on your usual message.

‘Goodnight! Ill see you tomorrow <3’

Seen just now

A bubble pops up and you watch as the three circles hop around inside. It disappears and pops up again for a few minutes before finally disappearing fully. You bite into your lip and press the back button, you pull down on the top of the screen hoping that a text will load.

Seen 5 minutes ago

It finally all comes crashing down, you try holding on hoping you can avoid crashing down along side everything else. The next day Adrian is nowhere to be seen, an hour into your shift your manager comes out to tell you that Adrian called off and someone else would be coming to fill in for him. You haven’t even made it to the break room to clock out for lunch before you are digging your phone out of your pocket. You see no texts from Adrian only the ‘seen 1d ago’ that mocks you as you try to type something out.

‘Hey ade, I heard you called off today are you feeling ok? I can stop by after work and bring you your favorite slushie!’

Seen just now

It shows he is typing for a moment before it stops, just like the night before. Your whole face contorts into one of worry. You try rationalizing it, if he is sick he probably doesn’t feel like texting. At least thats what you try to tell yourself. But your brain tells you otherwise, you did something and you messed it all up.

One day turns into another and soon he’s been out almost a whole week. You stopped messaging him after the fourth day. Your last message was asking him if he was ok and if you had done anything wrong. Instead your only response is that dumb fucking word. Seen.

You wake up in the worst mood, most of the time it would be because It’s a Sunday your days are usually busy on Sundays due to the church right up the road holding its services up until around noon and people often coming in after for lunch. Usually you’d get through it with a text from Adrian complaining about preparing for the day. Today there is nothing, you don’t bother to check your messages. You know there won’t be any texts that magically slipped through your notifications.

Still you drag yourself to work. your eyes and legs feel heavy and you worry you too might have to call off. You know if Adrian were to call off again he’d be fired. your heart pulls at this, that means you would never see him again.

You yawn and try to keep your eyes open as you pull into the back parking lot. You almost slam on your breaks, Your heart drops to your feet when you see Adrian’s car parked in its usual spot. There is a loud thudding in your ears, you wonder if it’s your car malfunctioning but you are quick to realize it’s your heart beating in your chest. You park your car afew spots away from his. You glance at it and you feel a patch of excitement fill your chest, then you remember the last few days and suddenly you are full of anger and frustration. Your eyes burn but you quickly blink away any tears threatening to spill.

You get out your car and rush into the break room. You feel like a bowling bowl hits you in the chest with how all the air leaves your body at the sight of Adrian putting away his belonging. He glances over when he hears the door squeak open and your eyes meet. That intensity is there again, it’s burning holes into you with how strong it is. You want to run over to him, slap him, hug him, kiss him. But you don’t, you turn away and make your way straight to your cubby just as he opens his mouth to say something. He is quick to shut his mouth simply watching you put your stuff away.

Neither of you break the silence, you instead walk to the break room door and walk through. Adrian follows behind and you try not to look back at him. Luckily the chaos of the diner catches your attention. Claire rushes over to you “oh thANK GOD Y/N!” She shouts hands planting on your shoulders, getting a few looks from the customers hear by. “they all say they just came from church but i don’t believe it. This is hell!!” You can see the stress painting her face and let out a sympathetic but amused huff. You try to pay no mind Adrian skirting around you two and heading towards the other bus boy and instead take in the whole room. There must have been an important something going on because your usual 8-10 tables of small families had turn into about 15+. You are quick to switch out with Claire telling her you’ll take over the last 15 minutes of her shift and leave her tips in a To go cup in her cubby. After some questioning and you insisting, she disappears through the break room door with a “thank you my angel from above, I need a cig SO bad”

You get to work and begin introducing yourself to your tables telling them you would be taking over. You are shocked to see just how busy it is, everytime a table leaves it feels like another one comes in. You and Adrian barely had a moment to stop a breathe, Bouncing around from table to table, it had been so busy the manager had even asked Adrian to jump on taking orders instead of just busing tables.

You find yourself becoming more and more agitated as you glance at Adrian and lock eyes. Everytime you are quick to scowl and look away. The day goes on like this, constant glances that just lead to a steady growth of aggravation. But you could handle it, it was ok.

Until it wasn’t.

You are going to boil over, It’s almost the end of your shift and you are walking your last table out but Adrian’s last table will not finish up. You say goodbye to your last table with a smile and a wave before taking a second to glance at Adrian again but this time you notice him laughing at something the attractive girl at the last table is saying. They look about your age and Adrian looked very intrigued by what they had to say. Their hand reaches up and finds itself on his lower arm as he is leaning on the table. You can’t help but stop in your tracks and stare at the two of them scowling.

What could she possibly say that’s so funny?

Why is she touching him?

He hasn’t talked to you in a week but is chatting it up with this chick?

You knew it’s wasn’t logical, she is a customer and he was simply being professional. But still when he glanced over at you and perks up before looking at you questioningly you couldn’t help but glare at him and stomp away. It takes an hour for her to leave. You keep sweeping around her and bussing all the empty tables in hope she will get the hint to finally leave. Still she kept pulling Adrian over for a chat before finally sliding him a folden napkin with a heart scrawled on the top.

Your legs are moving and you can’t get them to stop no matter how loud your brain screams. You slam your bin on her table with a loud thud, making the whole table shake. her and Adrian both jump, she gasps and looks at you as if you were insane. And maybe you are.

You suddenly find yourself stood at the line. You don’t know which side you are on anymore. You want to kick at it and rip it from the ground. “I’ll go ahead and take these since it looks like you are FINALLY done” you say in a sickeningly sweet voice, your smile is strained and they can both tell there is no kindness behind your demeanor. Adrian softly says your name but you ignore him aggressively grabbing all her dishes, dropping them noisily into your bin.

She is quick to stand and mumble something under her breath, she turns to Adrian and thanks him. You stare at them as Adrian apologizes to her and walks her out, he wishes her a safe trip home because why wouldn’t he. It’s Gotham.

And everyone knew you had to be careful in Gotham. Something you seemed to forget.

The silence that filled the room is deafening, Your ears are ringing now and you are harshly scrubbing at the table. It’s clean but you are too focused on the insults your brain is throwing your way and stopping tears from rushing down your face. You wish your shift change would just show up already and tap you out of this hell. Adrian keeps throwing concerned glances your way and you feel like you are going to explode with anger and shame.

The break room door finally opens to show your shift change, you rush over to him and tell him about what you have done to help get his shift started easier before leaving with a quick goodbye. You made a beeline towards the break room wanting the day to be over. You just needed to get home and forget about everything. You couldn’t handle it, seeing Adrian, his laughing with that girl, his week of ignoring you. How could you ever come back from this pit of embarrassment? Maybe you could ask someone to cover for you until you can ask your manager to switch your shift again?

You let the break room door shut behind you with a soft thud. You dig through your cubby pulling out all your stuff, you are quick to realize you are missing your keys. You glance around the floor realizing they must have fallen out when you threw your bag in your cubby, hurrying to escape the break you. You blink back tears and whimper softly when you don’t see them on the floor. you glance up and see them in the shelf just above your cubby.

You reach up to grab them but freeze when a hand finds the lower half of your back. You feel completely engulfed as Adrian reaches above you. You don’t move even as his muscular arm reaches past your head. You could have gotten the keys, the shelf wasn’t high up and Adrian knows this having seen you put things on that shelf before. Still he grabs the keys and holds them out to you with a smile “i saw them on the floor and put them up there” he says eyes scanning over your face. You mumble a harsh ‘thanks’ before snatching them and grabbing your bag. Adrian makes a face and you try making a beeline for the exit door to the back parking lot of the restaurant, Finally escaping him. but Adrian grabs his own stuff and is following quick behind. The shuts behind him and he rushes to catch up to you.

You hear your name and a hand is suddenly on your shoulder, you whip around to face Adrian. If looks could kill Adrian would have been dead on the floor. He pulls his hand back quickly “I’m sorry, I know what I did was shitty but I can explain-“ he starts but quickly stops himself with a groan of frustration “well no-I can’t really explain- it’s top secre-“ you turn back around and continue walking after you glare at him “I swear I have a good reason” he pleads following behind you

“Leave me alone Adrian” You say through clenched teeth, thumb pressing down on unlock button causing your car to beep and click. You open your passanger door and throw your bag and coat onto the seat shutting the door with a loud thud once. You wince slightly not meaning to shut it that hard “no- not until you give me a chance to explain” Adrian leans down to try and catch your gaze yet you dodge him and walk around your car to the drivers side “I know you are upset but ignoring me isn’t going to help” He says. He knows the mistake in his wording the second the words leave his mouth.

You quickly turn around to face him. Your feet are moving quick, it only takes afew stomps before you are right in front of him. You finally have a chance to look at him. There are bags under his eyes, he looks tired and worn. You wonder for a split second what the hell he has been up to this week. Still, Your finger jabs into his chest harshly. “YOU-“ your finger goes to jab him in the chest again “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK ABOUT IGNORING PEOPLE” your voice is rough and you feel like you are fighting against your throat to get the words out. You send a push his way with both hands this time, he doesn’t move an inch. Instead he stares down at you brows creased as he frowns. “A WEEK! YOU LEFT ME WITH NOTHING FOR A WEEK!” You go to push him again, then again and he grabs your wrists before you are able to make contact. The grip is gentle and loving, it has you gritting your teeth in anger.

“Y/n- babe” he whispers, you rip your wrists out of his grip “NO- You don’t get to call me that! I should have never allowed you to call me that!” You shove at his chest again “I HATE YOU!” and again “I fucking hate you!” And again. You continue your tirade of shoves to his chest and shouts of how much you hate him. You aren’t looking at him anymore. You can’t see him through your tears even if you were. Your shouts soon go from words to sobs and with one last shove you fall to a crouching position.

Your mind is yelling at you, screaming how embarrassing you are and how you need to just get a grip. You knew this would happen. Your sobs are loud and You hope none of the chefs are watching this all go down through the grease smeared kitchen window. Your hands find your face and you sob as you desperately try to scrub away your tears, it’s no use, every time a tear leaves more follow behind it.

“You- you were gone for a-“ you gasp as you catch your breath, you know you look like a mess, tears and probably snot streaming down your face, barely able to breath. “A week!” You repeat through a sob. You let yourself fall back on your butt and pull your knees to your chest.

You hear gravel shift under Adrian’s feet as he crouched down to match you. You can hear how his breathing is off, it sounds exactly like yours before you started sobbing. “I know-“ he tries but your gaze snaps up at him. It’s your turn to look at him intensely, burning holes into him. His hand is in the middle of the air like he was going to reach you but stopped once he saw your eyes. “No- you don’t know Adrian” your voice steadies itself but tears continue to leak from your eyes. “I spend every moment thinking of you when you are right next to me!” Your hands grip at your pant legs “how do you think I felt after you decided to just ghost me!?” His mouth opens to answer, nothing comes out. “I finally thought I proved myself wrong-That I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life in Gotham alone” your eyes narrow at him “did you know that Adrian?” You question intensely

You don’t even try to stop yourself as words just begin tumbling out with no shame. your hands find the gravel and you push yourself up and onto your knees glaring harder-if possible- into Adrian’s eyes “did you know how it feels to go from falling in love with you to feeling like Im some crazy delusion person? Do you know it’s pretty fucking shitty to go from calling me babe to not calling me at all?” His eyes are red and tears are streaming down his face. It feels wrong to see him like this but you continue.

he shakes his head, he feels like he needs to do something other than stare at you dumbly “do you know how is felt to spend everyday of the last week wondering if I read everything wrong? Wondering why you suddenly hate me?” The words leave your mouth and somehow Adrian’s face grows even sadder, he too finds ground on his knees “do you know that Adrian?” you question once again and Before you can even react he grabs you by the shoulders and is quickly pulling you forward. Your body hits his with enough force for a small ‘oof’ to leave you.

You begin to fight against his grip trying to escape the hug. You don’t want to escape though you want to stay there forever grip onto him so tight that you are sure he can never disappear again. But you brain is screaming at you still. “Stop-“ he says, you shake your head and continue to squirm in his grip. He pulls back and brings his hands to your face “y/n please just stop!” finally you stop and look up at him “you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t read anything wrong and I sure as fuck don’t hate you” you frown at him, you don’t even have to ask it’s as if he can hear the ‘why?’ Bouncing around in your head.

“I had to leave, I had no choice. people were in danger. YOU would have been in danger” you look at him confused, how could you have possibly been in danger? You go to shake your head and move away again but he is quick to grab your focus once more “you aren’t going to believe me but it’s the truth” he begins and takes a deep breath “me and some buddies had to go on a mission. A very important mission that I got myself wrapped up in” you scoff “this isn’t funny-“ you begin trying to turn away from him but he cuts you off. He stands quickly and grabs your hand dragging you to a standing position along side him.

He drags you away from your car and over to his. Hands digging through his pockets until he finally finds his Keys. He finds the right one and stops in front of his trunk. He slides the Key in and twists. The trunk opens just slightly with a pop, he takes a deep breath and pulls it open all the way. Your eyes widen as you stare down into the trunk. A dark helmet with a red visor stares back at you, under it sits the rest of the dirt and blood stained uniform. Next to it sits a locked case. He doesn’t open it but you know what’s in it, after all you did spend many nights watching his favorite superhero movies.

You reach in and pick up the mask. You’ve seen it before. Never in person only is photos sent around by the police or news, but you know what it is, you look at Adrian confused “you-?” He nods and takes the mask from your hands and puts it back in the trunk, in fear someone else may see it. “My best friend, peacemaker, he got into some weird alien stuff and now I’m stuck in with this group” it feels unbelievable and you open your mouth to question him. Aliens? THE peacemaker? He’s messing with you your brain shouts at you. He is quick to fish out his phone before you can even say a word.

He clicks through and opens his camera roll. He begins to swipe through. You see the blur of photos as he swipes and you swear one of them is him posed with an eagle. He stops on a photo, It’s a small group and it looks like they are in a van. Everyone looks tired, there is blood and dirt and they look at the camera in annoyance. One of them is fucking peacemaker himself. Your eyes trail down to Adrian His face is barely showing in the corner of the screen, it’s really just his left eye and up but you know it’s him. You’d recognize his green eyes anywhere. “I had to come back to work because they would have fired me if I didn’t. But I was going to show up to your house anyways if I didn’t see you today”

“Adrian I-“ you look up at him “I swear I didn’t mean for this all to happen. I usually stay near by” you shake your head “but one moment I was helping them take out a family of butterflies and the next I was in a basement having my junk electrocuted. You wince at the thought. you look back at his still open trunk before he shuts it and locks it once more “you aren’t supposed to tell me all this are you?” He shakes his head and smiles “nope” you frown “what if I like reported you to the police?” This draws a laugh from him “well I’d be gone before you told them and also I know you won’t” he smiles and you choke up a bit seeing it

“I- ade I’m sorry” you start hands clamped into fists at your sides “I should have let you explain yourself I shouldn’t have-“ you are cut off by Adrian. His mouth crashes into yours, if it was anyone else the kiss would be horrible. It’s messily placed and your teeth clack together. However it’s Adrian, the same Adrian you have been wanting to kiss for almost months now. The Adrian you thought you’d never get to kiss. You are quick to kiss back. It’s intense and desperate and lasts for a long moment before he pulls away.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I wanted to tell you, I wanted to respond to every text but I couldn’t. There is always something happening-“ he looks to the side ashamed “I kept thinking about what would happen if someone wanted to hurt you because of me. What if I couldn’t protect you” his voice shakes as he says this and your hand finds his cheek, his head falls into your touch “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself”

Your heart aches, You missed Adrian so much, you felt like you were drowning you missed him so much. “You don’t have to want to be with me anymore. it’s dangerous. IM dangerous. You don’t need to be wrapped up in that, especially not for someone like me” you shake your head and lean up, lips pressing to his. “I’m not leaving” you say against his lips before pulling back, a smile makes its way onto your face and Adrian can’t help but lean down to kiss you once more. He has been waiting to see your smile for a week. You break the kiss and laugh “Especially if that means I get a sick vigilante boyfriend, just promise you’ll tell me the next time you have to go”

Adrian smiles and nods enthusiastically as he pulls you in for another kiss. You can feel Adrian smile against your lips before he pulls back with a short chuckle. You tilt your head and raise a brow at him, “so…I’m your sick vigilante boyfriend now?” You roll your eyes and turn away from him to hide your smile “actually now that I think about it where is the police station?” You tease

He pays you no mind and kisses you again. Yeah, maybe not everyone in Gotham is trustworthy. Maybe this will end in tears and heartbreak but still, you’ll never know if It doesn’t if you don’t at least try.

That’s it!! I hope you enjoyed and if you didn’t keep that to yourself😾

#fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker adrian chase #vigilante #peacemaker vigilante #vigilante x reader #peacemaker vigilante x reader #adrian chase/vigilante #adrian chase fanfiction #vigilante fanfiction #peacemaker fanfiction #Adrian chase/vigilante x reader

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 6 months ago

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Burn Out

I would. Absolutely do the cast but. Consider. The casts parents instead.

Also as you can probably guess, I'm feeling burnt out so my writing may not be as good as it usually is but fuck it we ball. Yes I will be using headcanon names for the Cast Parents because. um. I can.

Family Headcanons here if you want to read.

Also there's no Diasomnia except for Sebek. Sorry. Don't attack me please I beg OTL NO SPOILERS PLEASE OTL ----------------------------------------

Dr. Carlotta Rosehearts is not the type of woman to be easily impressed. Burn out is something only the weak experience, though if you weren't raised by her, she can hardly blame YOU for your poor constitution. While she's not all that sympathetic, she can find a small, easy task for you to complete to feel like you've been productive, useful, and otherwise intelligent.

Dr. Dmitri Hatter, Riddle's estranged (engineer) father couldn't be any MORE experienced with burn out. He's awkward, he's odd, but his antics are sure to put a smile on your face. He can spot someone trying to work through burn out easily - not in his house baby, he's spinning that chair around and away from the desk, you're coming to get snuggled up and watch a movie with him and his kid(s). He'll make you tea (or coffee if you want it), a bunch of snacks, and promises to help you with your work later. Right now is time to let that all go and let your brain be mush for a bit. It's okay.

Amelia and Tarrant Clover - they're a little burnt out constantly themselves, but there's always room at the table for one more. Their home is only a good option if you like little kids though, because they WILL treat you like you're their big sibling almost immediately. They don't mean to come off as a little uncanny, but they genuinely do love having guests so much. Be prepared for So. Much. Food. If you can't really handle the hubbub of the family, that's okay too. Amelia will invite you to join her for her evening prep. She has a way of making you let all those feelings come out when it's just the two of you, and by the time you're done crying, she's got fresh banana bread and hot chocolate in front of you, with a pat on the back. She'll hug you if you want it too.

The Diamond couple have way too much tension between them to be of much help to you. Cater's older, but not eldest, sister, Catrina, is rather reserved and quiet when she's allowed to be. She'd be the one to take you into her room, do your hair, maybe some aromatherapy and tai chi. She's learned a lot of ways to relax over the years, she's just happy to share it with someone who is too exhausted to be fake with her. willing to let her help.

Dylla Spade hi, hello, did you want to make a top three guardians list? Dylla is there, promise. There is no overworking in her house. She can appreciate the dedication, but 1. you are actively harming yourself, 2. you should never work that hard in a workplace, why are you doing it for free /hj. She'll try to interrupt once or twice with the bribe of a small snack, or with going out somewhere, but if you're stubborn she's got to pull out the big guns. Big guns being she puts a photo of baby Deuce on the desk next to you and tells you if you want to know the story you're going to stop, go take a shower to give your brain a transition period out of work and go meet her in the kitchen. She's not the best cook but by god you know everything she gave you she gave with love.

Jack Trappola-Hearts is not Ace's dad, (ew, says Ace in the back of my mind), but his big brother. He's got a humble, somewhat dated one-bedroom apartment. He'll sleep on the couch though, so you can have the bed. (If Ace is there, Jack will sleep on the floor). He likes keeping you entertained and smiling, so he'll take you around town to (free) but fun areas. He doesn't expect you to verbally respond if you don't want to, and if you need to, he'll happily create a way for you to communicate when you're ready to go home. He'll keep you distracted from your responsibilities and burdens until he knows you can tackle them full force again.

Falena Kingscholar has a BIG and BRIGHT personality. He means the best, but he can sometimes be a little insensitive to your efforts, (as he was to his brother). He's also very busy and repressing his own burn out and Other Emotions, but don't fret. Kifaji will look after you. He's careful to not hover, but he always pops in with exactly what you need. He can't be as attentive as he would like, but he does know where the younger prince used to sneak off for naps. He may or may not drop a hint or two as to where those places are, and he may or may not have made sure to set the area up with soft lighting, music, blankets and curtains to give you some elevated sense of privacy without being overwhelmed by your surroundings (hopefully).

Vovó Bucchi (yes I borrowed a headcanon name provided by @kamiraaah (sorry for the tag, if you want it removed lmk!! ^^) can't help but make fun of you a tiny bit, but it's all just to remind you that hard work is meant to be rewarded. Hard work is meant to be balanced out with something else. While you're clearly bright, you're apparently not bright enough to realize when you need a break on your own /lh. She'll ask you to tell her about the things you HAVE accomplished over the past month while cooking food for the family, (and yes, having you be her taste tester all through out it), and wait til you're done to ask what you've done to motivate yourself to keep going. If you've got nothing, she's going to tell you to come home with Ruggie at the end of every other week. Yes, home. You're hers now. Good luck escaping custody.

Citlali and Ande Howl couldn't be more opposite in how they try to help you through burn out. Citlali is just a 4'2 ball of energy and affection, you best believe she's got hugs for days, homemade quilts to pile on you, a hot chocolate she meant to give you about 40 minutes ago but forgot while she was rambling, (she'll heat it back up), a child to hand you - wait, no that's going to her husband, that's not your responsibility. She'll talk your EARS off, but you come to love it. Ande is much more stoic, a little intimidating to some, and very awkward. Mans does not know how to come off as friendly. He offers a hug if you need it. Best hug of your life. He will also show you where you can go to brood get a breath of fresh air and relax.

Clara and Ginerva "Nonna" Ashengrotto (you MAY NOT call Nonna anything but Nonna. Only Nonna's friends can call her Ginny, and 'Ms. Ashengrotto' is her daughter.) Clara and her mom are both all too familiar with the dangers of burn out. You get burnt out, you make bad decisions, bad decisions lead to trouble down the road and honey you do not need to make your life any more complicated than it already is. Sit down, stuff your face, listen to jazz, be happy. Basic rules. Your plate will not be allowed to be empty, be prepared to probably eat so much you pass out, which will be the one and only bad decision you make that day, but it's better than Nonna asking why you ain't eatin' her cooking. If you do get too full, don't worry, they'll tease but they'll pack up what's left and the other 27 meals they prepared for you to take home. (Nonna is partially deaf so you will have to raise your voice a bit so she can hear you clearly).

guysguysguysguysguysguysguysguys it's my favourite next do you know who's my favourite I know who's my favourite I literally wrote this just so I could write for her do you know who's my favourite fuck YEAH YOU DO

Valeria Leech (and her husband I guess but I'm pretending Constantine Leech is not there because I want to focus on the queen that is Mama Fucking Leech)(He would be kind of detached anyways he doesn't know you and he doesn't owe you nothin', his wife just said he wasn't allowed to eat you). ANYWAYS. Mama Leech has a lot of energy, Floyd had to get it from somewhere and it is absolutely from his mama. While she can be a little all over the place, clearly her boys appreciate you if they went through the effort to bring you to her, and that means um. You're her kid now too. She will treat you like she treats her sons. This means an overwhelming amount of physical touch (she will tone down if asked or if her husband reminds her that not everyone is comfortable with that), a lot of food being offered to you, you get the (second) best bed in the house, she has already bought you new clothes- ordering on land clothes, but also things tourists to the Coral Sea would wear. Because how can you expect to overcome burn out when you're stuck in a rut and nothing has changed. You need a good sleep schedule, a good meal, and a way to feel fabulous about yourself. And probably a hug and a good cry session. And maybe a hobby to let out all that steam, do you want to learn to fight hand to hand or do you want to collect tiny glass figurines, she'll buy the same subscription as she has if you want she LOVES little glass figurines they're cute and delicate just like elvers are. She will cry when you have to go back to land, promise her you'll call her if you need her for anything. Whether it's a hug or hiding a body. She's got your back. Also in the top 3 mama's tbh but I'm very very very biased but I also still think I'm right.

Akram al Asim is a little lost on what to do, but Kalim cares about you, so so does he. He doesn't really know what to do on an emotional basis, so he gives you money and tells you that if staying in the palace is too much, you're welcome to go stay in one of their private mansions instead. And if you need more money to just ask. So staying at "home" and having someone cook and clean for you while you get to do nothing is a 10/10 way to help burn out. He does not know how to help people that are stubborn or reject his gift unfortunately, he just kinda stands there like a deer in the headlights, then just welcomes you to stay in his home as long as you like. (This is a bad idea, you're a friend of Kalim's and given the family dynamics we know about you may very well be used as leverage, um. yeah. That's not very cash money.)

Nasir and Amani Viper can offer their home and to share dinner with you, but they are kept busy all day. They can recognize burn out - they've seen it in their son, and experienced it themselves, but they've never gotten a break to work through it. They'll tell you to rest, to eat, to make yourself at home, but it's a little awkward to relax when everyone around you is working.

Eric Venue oh dear. oh dear, oh dear oh dear. Burn out is a killer of creativity darling, and we simply cannot have that. Again, not someone who can help all that much directly, he'll toss a little money at you and get you into a luxurious spa to get you to relax again, to rejuvenate your skin and your mind. Also concerned for your mental health and MAY have paid off a therapist to become your friend so you'll never know you're receiving therapy throughout the entire thing, you'll cry, you'll let that out, and you'll never see that friend again. But you don't know that yet and for now you feel better!

The Hunts fall into the bottom category of parents. Ibis Hunt, Rook's next eldest sister (bc I think the Hunt's named their kids after birds), will try her best. She practically raised Rook, so she knows what a good night out by the campfire can do, campfire dinner, marshmallows, a couple goofy songs on the guitar, and a horror story if you think you can handle it. She'll keep your mind off of things.

Meemaw (Marja) Felmier can and will bop you over the head with her cane if she sees you trying to work when you clearly can't anymore. "You're so worn slap out y'ain't got 'nother ounc'a thinkin' in there. Y'got a hankerin' for somethin'? I'll fix it up right quick. Come on now, carryin' on on an empty stomach ain't gonna fix y'problems." She purposely has you sit on the comfiest chair on the house, layers you up in blankets, gives you a stuffy and warm apple cider because she KNOWS you're gonna pass right out. And when you wake up, there will be Marja's famous apple crumble with homemade vanilla ice cream waiting for you, trust.

Dr. Isla and Rodian Shroud are HUGE advocates for self care, but know sometimes it takes another person to pull you away from what's frustrating you. Isla will GLADLY take you on in a gaming competition - and she might even take it easy on you. And you'll hear her full Aussie accent come out any time you over take her in the equivalent of Mario Kart. Rodian is much more likely to be subtle in the way he helps, asking you to come assist on a project. Idle prattle turns into a deeper conversation that lets you open up to him, and the simple tasks he gives you to make you feel like you're being useful help a lot too. If you do end up crying, he'll offer a hug, and then a place to sleep off the rest of the emotions. You'll wake up to a 3D printed figurine of your favourite animal, cookies, and a thermos that kept the milk cold. The last of the Mom top 3 imo. (Mom's do not include grandma's btw thus the exclusion of Vovo and Marja /lh)

Baul Zigvolt okay listen. Modern day? I can't help imagine him with a big beer belly and a laugh to match. He's lost all the intensity he had in chapter 7 (thus far, no spoilers please lol). If you're feeling burnt out, he's giving you food the way he would have given it to baby Sebek - he's still adjusting to humans, so forgive him for cutting everything up so small, but hey, hopefully you won't choke? And some water. He's got a lovely voice, so with your permission, he'll read to you or tell you stories from when he and Lilia were younger - or if you really want it, he'll sing you to sleep...that's his goal anyways. He will not let you sleep in though LMAO, you went to bed early, get ready to be up at the crack of dawn lol.

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Anyways, thanks for reading my Partially Coherent Ramblings. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist

@my-cursed-brain @fluffle-writes @distant-velleity @starry-night-rose @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @lumdays @nemisisnemi

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maespri · 1 year ago

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your turn to die chapter 2 deaths ranked by how painful they were (and why)

CRAZY ASS TITLE AGAIN. i know. hear me out. this post is kind of an addition to this post i made ranking all the deaths in YTTD, but it focuses only on the "game over" deaths that occur in chapter two of the game. because... i watched a video on it, and jesus there were a lot. and i wanted to analyze it all again!

as usual, spoilers ahead, and TRIGGER WARNING that this post will be going in-depth on the deaths and the nature and science behind them. it gets gory and detailed. if that will be too upsetting to read, please keep scrolling!

let's get into it!

if you haven't read my other post, some backstory: i have a special interest in anatomy & physiology, and i find it interesting to analyze these deaths and try to work through and understand exactly how they occurred.

each death/"game over" is named after the attractions/circumstance under which they occur. then i'll go into specifics. some of these were difficult to analyze due to the fact that it wasn't totally clear what happened, but i did my best!

quick glossary: exsanguination: severe blood loss asphyxia(tion)/hypoxia: inadequate oxygen supply to the body artery: vital blood vessel carrying blood out of the heart and to other vital tissues/organs spinal cord: cord that carries nerve signals from brain to body and vice versa pneumothorax: condition occurring when no oxygen can enter the lung(s), resulting in the organ shutting down hypovolemic: loss of fluid in the body, often referring to blood or water shock: life-threatening condition where the body does not have enough blood circulating through it TBI: traumatic brain injury cerebral: relating to the brain hemorrhage: bleeding necrosis: cell/tissue death neurotransmitter: chemicals that allow neurons to communicate with each other throughout the body

most painful:

stay on target:

sara and her partner get eaten alive. that sounds painful upon first hearing it, and it only gets worse when you consider what that actually means. for starters, sara and her partner are alive for every bite until the end of their death, where the mouth spits out their blood.

getting chewed alive would be excruciating. necrosis occurs as the bones, muscles, and nerves sitting in the lower limbs get crushed into mush, and as it moves further up the body, it worsens. until the spinal cord is severed (and even then, there's no certainty it actually would be severed; whether or not that occurs depends on the strength of the bite and the angle), they'll feel every bit of that pain. and if the spinal cord is cut, they'll only stop feeling pain everywhere beneath wherever that part is severed. for example, if sara's spinal cord snaps around her thoracic vertebrae (basically the middle discs of the spine), she'll stop feeling pain from the mid-back down- but if it doesn't snap again above that? she'll keep feeling it, if that makes sense.

so... overall, i think this would be one of the worst deaths. just imagine getting crushed over and over and over again.

-> official cause of death: likely shock, and/or fatal TBI from the brain getting crunched last

hide and seek:

this one was really interesting to analyze. judging by the blood splatter, it seems sara was slashed with a scythe around the right shoulder/lung. which... i hope i don't have to explain why that would hurt like hell. namely because she would likely still be alive for at least some amount of time and in terrible pain until the damage to her torso results in death.

irreparable damage to her lung combined with exsanguination would result in death here. the axillary artery sits around the armpit, meaning a hit to that area would most certainly result in the huge amount of blood we see staining the wall behind sara. and once that artery is hit, and in such a severe way... yeah, it's over.

-> official cause of death: hypovolemic shock due to exsanguination + pneumothorax leading to fatal shock

fly swatter:

so... this one was kind of insane?

my friend and i did some research for this one as well as suspended some disbelief and decided the answer that made the most sense given the characters appearances is that the flies literally chewed through their scalps and into their brains. there are actual flies in the world that can bite, but not to this extent, so it makes more sense that asunaro would have created these flies specifically for the death game and given them abilities.

there is also the possibility they were stung, but the amount of blood streaming down their faces, in my opinion, makes me think they were actually eaten. i also think this because if gin is your partner in this game, there will be holes in his hoodie implying the flies chewed through them (not pictured, apologies).

anyway, in this case... having your brain get eaten from your scalp... um. that would suck! pretty bad! you'd likely be terrified, thrashing around, and have intense pain in your head while your brain literally gets eaten. while, fun fact, the brain itself can't feel any pain, everything surrounding it can. i think this is just a nightmare scenario all around.

-> official cause of death: cerebral hemorrhaging/TBI.

quick draw:

in this death, sara gets impaled by a sword. its unclear exactly where the sword impales her, but it is obviously somewhere in the torso. the exact positioning actually does vastly change the amount of pain.

if the sword impales sara through her lower torso, it'll certainly pass through her intestines. potentially the pancreas and/or kidney(s). if it does hit her here, she'd be in pain for a long time; the organs of the lower abdomen are not as vital as the organs of the upper torso such as the heart and lungs, so... she'd basically be lying there, in horrible pain, bleeding out for some time. also, the conus medullaris (where the spinal cord essentially "ends") lies in the lower back often above the lumbar vertebrae. a direct hit there would result not in loss of sensation as spinal cord severing often does, but instead in severe back pain alongside other painful symptoms.

my point is- it would hurt. bad.

if the sword impaled sara's upper torso, she'd still be in pain, but for a far shorter time. the blade would pierce the heart/lungs, and, being in the center of sara's back, likely result in a complete spinal cord injury and cut off all sensation below that. she'd be unconscious due to shock within a few seconds, and total brain death would occur soon after.

i also want to note that there is blood on the blade above sara's body, which means the blade was inserted very quickly and resulted in her blood splattering upward over it. all this really means is the damage was even more extensive.

-> official cause of death: exsanguination, shock

painful:

spirit shutter:

this death occurs from sara getting choked to death. the first hand that appears on her is the one wrapped around her neck. the others fade in to hold her down, with one even covering her nose/mouth to make it even harder for her to breathe.

i think this death is painful especially from a standpoint of pure fear. being held down, choked to death, unable to do anything, is a horrifying concept in and of itself. add to that the fact that there all these other hands covering your face and grabbing you as well, and it's all just. awful.

choking occurs from the crushing of the windpipe which doesn't allow for adequate oxygen supply. overall, terrifying and painful.

-> official cause of death: cerebral hypoxia.

arm-wrestling:

this death was. disgusting to think about in-depth!

i think the thumb/forefinger of the red hands are digging into the eyes of sara and her partner. first of all, jesus, that hurts. ultimately, i believe their heads are just squeezed until they explode.

it's difficult for me to consider the science behind that considering that, in real life, it is impossible to crush a 17-year-old and late-20s-year-old's live human head with one hand. but it would definitely be incredibly painful. first the skull starts cracking and splintering, then it closes in on the brain, just... eugh.

the fact that their deaths appear to be mostly instant, however, shown by a single flash of red before the screen cuts to black, makes me think this death is less painful than the others, at least. it's very quick, at the very least.

-> official cause of death: fatal TBI.

charge card battle:

in this death, a giant blue beam crashes into sara. while i have no way of knowing what exactly that beam is made up of, it's likely some very strong volt of electricity.

the wound on sara's chest, the blood splatter behind her, and the cracked wall implies the beam was powerful enough to cut all the way through her skin, muscle, bone, and organs and break the wall behind her.

what's interesting here is that sara is killed immediately upon impact, but keiji has enough strength to lean to the left slightly toward her (shown by his outline not making the blood outline behind him) and tell sara he's sorry, an apology which sara is not alive to hear nor respond to.

i think this would be incredibly painful for what i hope are obvious reasons. a fiery electric beam cutting through your body would result in blinding, burning, pain for at least a few seconds before leading to death. however, i put it lower because the death is almost instant.

-> official cause of death: exsanguination, blunt-force trauma to the entire body

"least" painful:

runaway-minecart:

i would argue this is the least painful death out of any in this post, because it is instant. there's no time to feel pain. they're just dead. getting crushed by a giant boulder? you're just nothing. dead instantly because the brain gets crushed.

-> official cause of death: TBI.

white gas:

this death occurs if you fail to help shin hack the security system in time. a white gas floods the room, sara says she "can't breathe," and the "game over" appears. i'm uncertain what kind of gas is thrown into the room; some sort of advanced poison gas. most poison gases cause terrible symptoms and pain for a long time in victims, but because sara seems to be affected and presumably die instantly, i'd guess it's some sort of specific concoction conjured up by asunaro.

either way, the fact that it kills her so quickly makes this one of the least painful deaths.

-> official cause of death: asphyxiation due to poisonous gas.

poison door:

this death occurs if you input the wrong number into the door. something pricks sara's finger and presumably injects a poison into her bloodstream.

poison works by unleashing neurotoxins, cytotoxins, and hemotoxins into the body, all of which affect the nervous system, cells, and the blood respectively. all of these can have adverse effects on the body which ultimately lead to the destruction of nerves and result in paralysis, seizure, and death.

in sara's case, she was likely injected with a very fast-acting poison. my guess would be a high dose of cyanide. cyanide interferes with cellular respiration, which causes cell necrosis and essentially results in the body's tissue being unable to use oxygen.

cyanide poisoning very quickly results in a loss of consciousness, which is also shown through sara passing out practically instantly. so even if she were to continue to have symptoms (such as seizure- which i would guess would be unlikely, given she would likely be dead before any would begin), she wouldn't feel it.

that's why this falls under one of the least painful deaths.

-> official cause of death: cell necrosis -> hypoxia.

uncertain:

i was unsure about how this death worked.

memory dance:

this one was very confusing to me. the death scene begins with white ropes wrapping around sara's arms and legs, keeping her in place; then, a curved woosh of something white crashes into her. the screen goes red, and this is the final thing shown. at first, i thought maybe she was hit by a large blunt object whilst being restrained, and that it killed her upon impact.

but the weird thing about this image is sara's stance. she can't be hanging from something because her arms are at her sides, not up, meaning her body is relaxed. but if she isn't hanging, that means she's standing up... despite being dead?

i really have no idea what to clock this death as. something obviously hit her and killed her, but i don't know what it was or where it hit. i'm also confused on the way she's standing. i could very well just be stupid though, so if someone else has an explanation, please do enlighten me. lmfao.

bonuses!

i wanted to touch on the hallucination-related "game overs," of which there are two. while they technically aren't deaths, i still think they're really interesting to talk about from a psychological/neurological standpoint. this might just be mostly mindless rambling, fair warning... but, whatever. here are my thoughts.

if you use the hallucination machine three times:

before i get into this, i'm really gonna need you to suspend some disbelief for this game. modern medicine isn't at a point yet where we can ultra-specifically cherry-pick memories to remove. i'm aware of that. i'll try to explain how this might work, anyway.

if sara uses the hallucination removal machine three times, joe will essentially appear to be "eaten away" by sara's psyche. sara appears to have become addicted to the machine, begging to be allowed to use it one more time. safalin uses this to her advantage, stating that if sara obeys her, the machine will be her "reward."

while it is impossible to pick and choose specific events or people to remove from your memory in modern medicine- as far as i know...- this is still interesting to me for a few reasons.

the first reason being that it illustrates how unstable sara's state of mind has gotten. she wants to keep using the machine, no longer out of a desire to forget joe- she already did that, it was shown- but solely because it's the only thing bringing her peace anymore.

so why does overusing the machine result in a bad ending- and if sara has forgotten joe, why is she still addicted to the machine?

countless neurotransmitters are responsible for memory formation, but i want to hone in on glutamate, acetylcholine, and serotonin.

glutamate is heavily involved in long-term memory. a decrease of this neurotransmitter can result in memory loss, alongside a myriad of other unfortunate symptoms.

acetycholine helps organize working memory into long-term memory. cholinergic neurons (nerve cells in which acetycholine works) innervate the hippocampus (the part of the brain where your memories are stored), and aid the formation of episodic memory (your memories of specific events) as well as semantic memory (your long-term, basic, memory, such as numbers, words, and concepts).

serotonin has a few ways of aiding memory, but one of its most vital functions is its construction of neural pathways which allow you to learn new information more quickly.

with that in mind, if i had to assign an actual science to the hallucination removal machine, i would imagine it works by:

impacting the hippocampus in some very specific way, to where it only impacts sara's memory of joe

or, somehow decreasing the level of glutamate, acetylcholine, and serotonin in the brain.

for the first two hallucination removals, maybe a minimal or safe amount of each neurotransmitter was removed. just enough to make sara forget about joe enough to calm down again.

but repeated depletion of these neurotransmitters would cause immense problems. i also want to point out that sara appears to struggle a lot with anxiety in chapter two due to the hallucinations, and anxiety is thought to be related to inadequate amounts of serotonin. my point there is that she was (obviously) already struggling before ever using the machine.

so by the third time sara uses it, something in her brain must snap. too much has been taken out, whether that be because safalin manipulates the machine to remove more than necessary, or just because sara's body has truly hit its limit.

this makes sara physically weak. each of the previously mentioned neurotransmitters affect the memory, but they also play a vital role in your body's basic functioning all throughout the body.

what makes sara mentally weak is dopamine.

dopamine is the feel-good neurotransmitter; it makes you relaxed and satisfied. every time sara uses the hallucination machine, she's flooded with dopamine; she gets to forget about all the pain of remembering joe. that feels amazing.

most likely, she came to associate the hallucination-removal machine with dopamine release, and in a situation where dopamine release would otherwise be incredibly minimal (not much satisfaction to be gained out of watching everyone around you die and lie and fight), the hallucination machine would be a godsend.

my point here is that sara basically became addicted to the machine because it became her only solace.

so combine her now-physical weakness with her addiction to the dopamine she gets out of the hallucination machine, and she gets this ending where she fully submits to safalin under the condition that she gets to keep using the machine.

so... that's my messy explanation there!

reaching maximum hallucination level:

if you reach a hallucination level of 130, sara will essentially lose her mind. she'll see a version of herself walking up to joe during his death scene with a knife in hand, which she ultimately plunges into his neck. after this, she screams, it cuts to black, and there's a "game over."

this entire ending is the embodiment of sara's self-blame as well as her desire for control.

when it comes to loss, the first person people tend to blame is themself. for sara, this is because she actually does blame herself for not being able to do more to save joe's life. but it is also because she felt powerless both in the death game and during joe's death. she clicked over and over and it led to nothing. by blaming herself for joe's death, she gets to maintain some control over it, even if she wishes it never happened to begin with. that control brings her some subconscious sense of sick comfort.

her self-blame and guilt for joe's death, despite not actually being her fault, causes her to conjure up this manifestation of her own internal struggle in the form of a hallucination of joe.

it's very realistic for sara to try to avoid thinking of joe during chapter two. i believe sara develops PTSD after witnessing joe's traumatic death in chapter one. memory loss is very common in PTSD and is a defense mechanism by the brain.

but sara doesn't forget joe entirely; she just tries not to think about him. unfortunately, she's triggered by certain things around her that force her to remember him. however, she can no longer conjure up good memories of joe; only able to think about the fact that he's dead. with no other concrete figure to blame, she blames herself.

psychologically speaking... no, you can't die of "losing your mind." but grief, PTSD, and trauma can result in physical symptoms. for example, a heart attack, which most certainly can kill you.

but in this ending, i don't think sara actually dies. her last words are just her laughing. i think she kind of just... loses it. and that makes sense.

i think the reason this ending happens, and the reason sara sees herself killing joe, is because her mind is no longer able to understand why joe died. so it makes something up.

she sees all these things that remind her that joe was alive once. every time we see something that reminds us of someone else, we think, "that reminds me of this person" -> "that makes me feel [sad] [happy] [mad]" -> "anyway..." and move on.

but sara's brain instantly jumps to extremes. she goes from "this reminds me of joe" to a very blunt "oh, joe is dead" to the question of "why is joe dead?"

and instead of thinking logically- "joe is dead because he got unlucky and drew the sacrifice card. joe is dead because he got kidnapped and put into this death game. joe is dead because miley told the wrigglers to drain his blood."

sara can't compute that. she sees hallucination joe blaming her. just goes straight to, "joe must be dead because of something i did."

in psychology, this is a very common way of thinking in children. they aren't old enough to understand that the world doesn't revolve around them, so they think everything that happens happens because of them.

in sara's case, she seems to kind of regress back into that way of thinking, even if it is only in relation to joe.

so after being reminded of joe so many times and going through this cycle of thinking, her mind gets tired of trying to sort between real and fake memories of joe's death and just solidifies itself on one side of the story.

sara's brain basically decides, sure, we killed joe. it's easier if we believe we killed joe. here's how you did it, too. you took a knife and plunged it into his neck. there, now it's definitely your fault.

which totally backfires for sara, who has now completely lost it. there's no line between real and not real for her anymore. anything she convinces herself she's done, she believes.

so that's how that ending works, in my opinion.

that's it!

as always, if i got something wrong or if you have any thoughts of your own, please do correct me or share with me! i'm not a professional, just insane.

thank you for reading!!

#yttd maeta #they don't call me anatomy girl for nothing #yttd spoilers #yttd analysis #yttd #your turn to die #sara chidouin #shin tsukimi #joe tazuna #kanna kizuchi #kime ga shine #alice yabusame #kai satou #reko yabusame #keiji shinogi #gin ibushi #qtaro burgerberg #anatomy fact

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scre-a-ming-cupcakes · 5 months ago

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If This Book Exists, You're In The Wrong Universe review and ranting

Personal rating: 9.5/10

Ranking in the book series: Top 2

I think I liked this one more than the average person. It's difficult to explain exactly why, I just really enjoyed myself with this one. It's the longest book in the series, I think. I like mind fuck and this one was the greatest sex my brain has ever gotten. The time line of this book is da filthy but it still makes sense (?) At least I didn't notice any inconsistencies that usually come up with time travel/ time loop stories. Anyway, further rambling down below.

The tone:

This one might be the perfect mix of all genres. I feel like the comedy-horror-drama ratio was pretty evened out here, which I quite enjoyed. It's portioned, though. You get a whole lot of funny in the beginning, mostly action and funny in the middle, maybe I'm just a pussy but the last act made my heart go ouchie at times. The horror was the disturbing kind, and I love it. Overall, it was very entertaining from start to finish.

The pacing:

The pacing wasn't perfect, but nothing was bothering me too much. The ending had, once again the problem, that it never seemed to find an end. It went on and on and on, but I didn't mind it. I also rather have 7 more chapters than ending the story with John's head mush and the city of [Undisclosed] vaporized, so I'm not complaining. All the characters get enough screen time, the tension never comes too short or too long, and the more emotional bits are long enough to get you invested but not too long to make you cry on public transport.

It also all came down full circle, even the most unsuspecting things coming into play again, later. (the fucking DO NOT OPEN cabinet in John's home, are you kidding?! It wasn't important to the story and useless as all hell BUT it came back into play in the most anticlimactic way possible)

The supernatural elements:

Xarcrax: The Xarcrax cult is obviously inspired by the red-pill contents, especially how young boys can be pulled into this non-sense because they crave a feeling of validation, community, and superiority (often times because people have wronged them and they don't get the comfort they seek, elsewhere) It's a nice mix of real issues, and paranormal aspects so it still fits in there well. And yes, Dave was right. The name is stupid. It's even more stupid once it's revealed how the name was created in the first place.

Magpie and Mr. Swallows: These creatures are very much THE horror element of this book. While not as terrifying as monsters from other books, it's still caused for some amazingly scary moments. Also, the idea of the beings being invisible except for the inside of their stomach is creative and quickly turns disturbing. The eyeball moments were da filthy!

The Time Captain: The fact that all this has happened once is introduced to us early on. Before dying, the Time Captain confirmed that the events of the book are their second chance to save the world. The concept of this not being their second chance, but their 100.000.000+ chance, is only revealed around the half way mark. Maybe even later. Revealing the concept of a time loop this late was honestly a great choice. It caused both comfort and concern. I'm all for happy endings but I'm always annoyed with time loop stories that just show that one time they break the loop and the loop gets broken for no damn reason. Not only do we see a failed attempt here but also a reasoning as to why it works the next time (and finally we know why it's called John Dies At The End. I didn't cry. And if you think I did, good luck proving it, asshole!)

The BATMANTIS???: Although we don't see the BATMANTIS??? as a creature in this book, it's highly implied that Dave transformed at least 3 times. One time in a "dream", hunting and feeding. One time when him and Joy were being attacked and he had to release the beast to protect them. Great fucking scene. We only see the lead up and the pay off, so there is still a certain mystery to the BATMANTIS??? but Dave is very fucking powerful when transformed. The decapitated head and the organs he puked out afterwards prove it. The last time he transformed is to presumably eat the asshole misogynistic twat of a father, bones and all. I couldn't say "slay" louder.

The characters:

Once again, beautiful human stories in-between this monster-action-flick. Dave is still far from perfect, but he has grown since book 3 (the bar was in hell). He has also become quite the action hero. Still chubby and a little bit damp, but damn, he can prove himself in stressful situations. In general, the whole team has improved so much over the years that you'd almost think they are professionals.

John is still funny and stupid but damn, did he pull on my heart strings this book. What kind of beef did he have with the universe for it to make it a rule that this manic sewer-rat of a man HAS to die?!

Amy is perfect. She's my angel, the love of my life, my hero, if anything ever happens to her, I will destroy this realm. I also adore that she is fully part of the monster hunter gang, without having the ability to see the monsters. It just proves how badass she can be because she can still keep up with the boys while "blind".

I also love the addition of Joy. It was interesting to let her stay in the background for most of the book and then have her be one of the main reasons why they can save the world. I also love her view on humans and why she loves them so much. All while she's still a bitch to John and the rest, I adore her so much. I noticed that she doesn't use her abilities often, even if it would make everyone's life easier. Her reasoning and fear makes it all very valid and immediately puts some depth into this character.

Bas was also a good character. I doubt he will appear in future stories, but he was a great antagonist. He was a realistic mix of well-taught magic user and amateurish teen. His love for his sisters and the obvious grief that lead his action makes him a sympathetic villain, who, at the end of the day is just another grieving boy who doesn't get the help he seeks.

Other aspects and bits that I liked:

-"Knife to meet you!"

-The first two pages are Dave's Ebay offers of cursed and/or magic items that seem pretty useless, but you just know supernatural nerds would buy.

-The "Prologue" if you can call it that reintroducing you to the gang and their shenanigans with a seemingly stand-alone mission was a great way to open the book, so readers who have had a long break between books could get a smooth feeling for the craziness again. The monster ending up being part of the bigger picture was even greater.

-amy

-No fucking way did we get another black-out situation. I expected another terrifying outcome as we got in book one. It just ended up being Dave from another universe watching the shenanigans and being bored so he skipped forward, causing their entire universe to skip forward as well?!?!?

-That ending? She ate and left no crumbs!!! (talking about Dave commiting cannibalism)

-Pool portals!

-Only in a John Dies At The End book can you have a figure appearing in your room at night, who is about to tell you the prophecy of saving the world... only solidify into the wall and die before getting to the most important parts.

-His name is Tim Kaplan. Gets referred to as Time Captain throughout the entire fucking book because John didn't hear his introduction clearly.

-The entity Xarcrax got named after a fucking portable cooler. Who the fuck comes up with this shit?!??!

-DA FILTHY

----

Other reviews:

JDATE | TBIFOS | WTHDIJR

#john dies at the end #jdate #if this book exists youre in the wrong universe #itbeyitwu #david wong #john cheese #amy sullivan #jason pargin #book review #jdate 4

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followerofmercy · 7 months ago

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THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT SO ELOQUENTLY

I woke up and chose brain mush today asldj;f. I believe this is the time when "using someone" becomes appropriate. When I'm in a workplace with a Racist Joe or Sexual Harasser, I do, usually, end up with a surface level civil enough work relationship no matter how much I hate them (or sometimes call them out), but that's less because they have valuable things to offer and more because I'm keeping tabs on them/trying to get dirt on them. If they're dangerous, they are no longer part of the Know A Guy network. If they suck that hard they're usually NOT worth working with, because like you said, they're hurt YOU too.

And, hell, if someone is Actively Dangerous like that, it's worthwhile to organize everyone to do something about them. Not, like, mob violence, but having an in-community support to deal with their rank ass.

There's a lot of nuance. I've had a lot of shitty people that I can be the voice of reason for - little reminders of "Hey, the women in your life have better things to do than put up with your shit. Hey, uh, I don't think that racist joke was funny. Why exactly do you think that's funny." with mixed results. Sometimes people CAN get better if they just have someone vocally disapproving of their actions. The reason a lot of these behaviors go unchecked is because they're surrounded by people that also do those behaviors, or, the only people that have been critical of them are strawmen on the internet they can feel attacked by.

Utilize peer pressure for good. I think internet circles especially have a bad habit of writing people off for Genuinely Sucking But In A Way That Could Get Better and, while it's nobody's job to fix them, the fact of the matter is that they're not gonna suddenly stop sucking without an outside influence. It really is wild how much Being Someone People Respect and Having A Different (and strong) Opinion can get people to stop and think about their biases.

...And then sometimes someone sucks so hard that your best option is "let them dig themselves a hole in front of you and then mount a counteroffensive" asldfj. Pick and choose your enemies. I used to be a homophobe because of how I was raised and now I'm not, mostly because the people around me were willing to answer my questions and also chime in when they didn't approve of my behavior. I was also raised in a racist society - just like everyone else here is - and no matter how much I work on it, I'm still gonna fuck up occasionally. I would appreciate correction instead of being written off as The Enemy.

Anyway be safe. Pick and choose the people you spend a lot of time with. I do think there's merit in being the only sane motherfucker that talks to the Kinda Racist but Could Get Better guy or the Kinda Misogynist but Not Actively Dangerous guy to get them out of their echo chamber, but at the same time, there's limits to how good of an influence you can be. Some people Are In Fact Too Dangerous To Work With. Use your best judgement

Networking/Knowing A Guy: A Guide

This is the autism website. Now, as an extension of the power of love and friendship, there are few things more useful than Knowing A Guy. Knowing A Guy means you have a support network. Knowing a plumber, or a tax accountant, or just that one dude that's really fucking good at finding the information you need when you're really overwhelmed, can be the difference between being able to pay rent and having a fun party with friends to fix your shit.

How does one end up Knowing A Guy? It's a skill you can develop called Networking and it is one of the foundations of society. Unfortunately making those connections with people is fucking hard and nobody makes a tutorial for it. So, here you go:

The golden rule is you scratch my back and I scratch yours

It is necessary for survival to seek out useful people

Great news! Everyone is useful in some form or fashion - including you! When given the opportunity to learn about someone, do it! Extroversion does not come naturally to some people and that's okay. Just take whatever falls in your lap.

Types of usefulness: trade skills, connections of their own, personality you jive with, pleasant to talk to, niche interest in shared hobby, security - the list is pretty much endless. I know a guy that lives in the metro area - no job, no major hobbies, inoffensively annoying to me personally, kinda ignorant, not attractive to me, but you know what? He knows how the fuck to get around the city by foot. My rural-raised ass APPRECIATES the guide.

Remember important information: general personality, background, skillset, likes and dislikes. You can find this information by making smalltalk about their life. There is no such thing as pointless conversation. (Yes, even the annoying smalltalk)

The more people you know, the higher the likelihood that one of them will be useful in a given situation - or will know someone who is.

It is overwhelming. In a given clique/community/workspace/whatever, there is A Guy Who Knows The Other Guys. This Guy is a shortcut. Find them. They're often elderly, extroverted, a little bit annoying, a secretary or in some otherwise forward-facing position. Look for people that are gossipy/talk about other people a lot but not in negative ways. If they constantly talk shit, they'll talk shit about you too. They're still useful but be careful with the information you share

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.

You do not have to like someone for them to be useful.*

If you have low self esteem, you're going to feel like you're using people. You're not. That's the devil talking. People like feeling valued and the connections you are making are the threads holding community together. Recognize people for their talents. It's only a problem when you're taking advantage of people

So: don't feel scummy about it. You're an animal. You have to claw out your right to survive and people will respect you more for it.

Luckily mutualism is the name of the game in the animal kingdom. Offer something back. The foundation of a Know A Guy relationship is Mutual Benefit

Sometimes that Mutual Benefit is just spreading news of the The Guy far and wide. My plumber friend is my actual friend and I love her to death, but I'm maintaining our backscratch relationship by pimping out her plumbing business to anyone that'll listen

Food is a good Mutual Benefit. People across cultures for all of human history have bonded over food. I have good success asking people for a favor and then offering to buy them lunch in return **

General compensation is also good. Offer a service in return and always do your best to offer financial compensation as appropriate. Having your plumber friend take a look at your drain: doable with a case of beer. Having your plumber friend redo the pipes in your entire house? You need to pay for that.

Being transactional is not necessarily a bad thing. I would advise against keeping an itemized list of things owed, but fish don't seek out cleaner shrimp just because they enjoy their company. Everyone gets something

Unfortunately being extroverted and generally personable is a huge benefit here, but that's the value of the Guy That Knows A Guy. There's someone out there that has consolidated All The Guys so you don't have to be the local expert. Always remember nobody can do everything and you don't need to master every skill

* This is the foundation of a functioning community. I have many acquaintances that I find incredibly annoying. They include doctors, welders, artists, social workers, lawyers, construction crew and random fuckers at the grocery store. I do not hang out with them. I do not have to in order to maintain a civil Know A Guy relationship. I can drop them useful tidbits and fuck right off so I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with them

** People may assume romantic intent. Be prepared for that. I generally denote that it's a friendly/work lunch by calling them bro at some point if they're my age. Otherwise my general demeanor is sufficient to show that I do this with everyone

Source: personal experience, mother's teachings of crime, booth vending and poverty

#fomreblog

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rassvetsky · 3 years ago

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i was wondering if u can come up with ‘a trust issue who needs reassurance all the time’ reader and ‘i dont know how to communicate my feelings’ bucky. basically a miscommunication trope.

i will accept however storyline and ending you make because i love you and i love ur writing💕❤️❤️

hi babe!! i really really hope i did your wonderful request at least some justice because i got too carried away-- i hope you like it! thank you for existing ♡

Out Of Mind

bucky barnes x reader

"Falling in love with you terrified Bucky, enough to push you away. He was sure that it's better this way. But merely a week later, when you disappear without a trace, Bucky realized that he couldn't handle being without you."

[5.2k] | angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, arguing, bucky being an asshole at first but he has his reasons, natasha being protective, sassy tony, canon level violence, fighting, reader getting minor injuries, clint is the loml, bucky is an idiot in love my dudes, they're so cute god help me

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

Bucky used to be a simple man, Steve had told you long ago. After all those years of torture, he developed… Complexity.

And you couldn't agree more.

He was a tender lover to begin with, the one to always make sure that you were alright, the one to put your wellbeing above his. He wasn't good with words- wasn't the most expressive man out there, but you understood him. You understood why he never included cards in the flowers he sent to you, or sometimes didn't say anything back to your love declarations other than a bashful smile; you understood that for him, these things worked in different ways now.

And that's why he loved you so much. That's why he was terrified.

Because the deeper he fell for you, the more intense his feelings got. The harder his separation anxiety hit, the more mushed his brain became.

And in any other scenario, that would be lovely. Those butterflies that one would feel in their stomach, or the sweet little dumbification that came hand to hand with love. In another life, he'd bask in the feeling. He'd see the world around him under a different light, a light that you cast on his life.

But in this life? It was nothing but dangerous. Nothing but absolutely horrendous.

Because he was supposed to focus. He was supposed to be alert. His fight or flight response had to be on at all times and no matter what, he was supposed to prioritize his life to save the others.

He couldn't do that when you were involved, not anymore. The paranoia got too much- he was terrified of seeing you get hurt, of losing you in any way. That fear brought out the worst in him, causing fights to break out whenever you willingly got yourself in trouble, distracting him, making you drift apart further.

You didn't want that. He didn't want that. But life for you wasn't always just movie nights at the compound, breakfasts on bed, long nights of talking about the future.

He had to let the chips fall where they may.

You needed reassurance, he knew that. But suddenly, after the last mission you went on with the team including Bucky, he suddenly… Stopped doing that. That bashful grin was nowhere to be seen when you told him you loved him, when you held his hand it just didn't last as long as it usually did, he… He didn't even look at you properly. And that went on for days, each day worse than the one before, until he barely even talked to you.

And the dread you felt on your chest was unbearable.

The night-time fell quicker than any other day that one evening, as you prepared yourself a warm tea to accompany your book. Carrying the mug up to your shared room with Bucky, you slowly got under the sheets, holding the book open with one hand, mug with the other.

The plot was barely interesting to you with all the thoughts running through your mind, snatching your attention from the words, making you have to go back and reread the same paragraphs over and over. It wasn't anything new, this type of distraction, but more often than not, it was the aftermath of the latest mission plaguing your mind. Not your boyfriend being excessively restrained towards you, as if your sole existence was a problem for him.

Speaking of, maybe it was. Maybe you were too high-maintenance for him, maybe you weren't giving him enough space, maybe he was just going through something. Or maybe, he was done with you. He didn't need you anymore, now that he got rid of the vivid nightmares and dissociations-

How cruel of you to think that. How cruel of him to leave that open as a possibility.

With your tea half-drank, you set the mug back on the nightstand, pinning the bookmark between the pages before leaving it by the mug. You didn't feel like laying down- didn't think you could fall asleep with your mind on overdrive like this anyway. Getting up from where you were laid across, you slowly made your way over to the window, arms crossed on your chest as you heaved a sigh. The view was nice, moonlight illuminated enough of the surrounding trees, and if you were to squint, you could see the grass shine wetly, with a layer of dew upon them.

You couldn't help the way your shoulders tensed a bit when the door knob twisted open, hearing the heavy steps of your lover and a sigh leaving his lips. Your back was facing him still, and you didn't dare to look at him, figuring he was busy changing his clothes judging by the shuffling sound of fabric.

The slight squeak of the mattress brought a bitter grin to your lips as you spoke up. "Not even gonna talk to me?"

He was quiet for a full minute. "Sorry. I'm tired, sweetheart."

"Of me?"

"What?" he sounded surprised. "Wha- why would I be tired of you?"

"I don't know." you sighed. "You've been acting incredibly distant for the past week. Figured I was tiring you out."

Another squeak, he was on his feet now. Slowly walking towards you, he rested a hand on the small of your back, but you still didn't look at him. You wouldn't admit that to yourself but you really didn't want to know the truth.

"Don't be ridiculous," he spoke, tone quiet. "It's just that… The missions, you know how they-"

"We went through rougher missions back then," you chuckled. "On the verge of death, covered in blood. Missions that went on for months. You didn't treat me like this then."

"How am I treating you?"

"Like I'm a fucking nuisance!" you finally snapped, pushing his hand away from your body before turning towards him. Your eyes were wide with anger, chest heaving. "You're treating me like you don't even want to see me!"

"You're my girlfriend!" he was bewildered, albeit a bit guilty. "Of course I want to see you, what the fuck are you even talking about?!"

A scoff left your lips. "Fuck that! You used to treat me better when we were barely friends," you watched him look away, annoyed. "I've been trying to give you some space but you- you just won't tell me shit! You're barely talking to me, anyway! How the hell am I supposed to know what I did wrong if you won't even talk to me, Bucky?!"

Bucky felt his heart getting heavier. "Stop assuming that you did something wrong-"

"Then what else?! What else can I assume? For fuck's sake, am I supposed to assume that there's someone else, or you're just- you're just sick of me. That you don't need me anymore, is that what I'm supposed to think?" you could feel the tears building up by your waterline. "Fucking hell, it'd hurt way less if I was sure that it's all my fault! Or- even if you were- I just- just tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, please?"

"Nothing!" he was loud, suddenly. The sudden outburst had you taking a step back in instinct, and he panicked so hard for a moment that he almost took a step towards you.

He knew he shouldn't.

"Nothing, okay? Just one of those weeks. Leave it alone."

"Fine." you sighed. "Fine, I'll leave it alone. I'll leave you alone, Bucky, to figure your shit out and- please, for the love of God, don't talk to me until you do. I'm done being treated like garbage." and with a final shove to his chest, you walked out of the door.

Bucky knew that he deserved that.

Hell, he deserved a solid punch for the way he was treating you but he didn't know how else to act. He didn't know what else to do. He was so sick of worrying, being in a constant state of paranoia because of you, so sick of his heart hurting like someone reached right into his chest and severed it off whenever you got hurt.

Was he protecting himself, or you?

"Hey," Sam swiftly sat by Bucky's side with a bowl of cereal on his palms, not giving the other a chance to walk away before speaking up again. "You good? You look like… Hell, I can't sugarcoat this. You look like absolute shit."

Bucky felt like absolute shit.

"I'm fine." he muttered, eyes trained on the big TV screen in front of them. The compound had been pretty quiet for the past few weeks, with the main troublemakers scattered around the globe for a mission.

Sam saw right through his bullshit, though. "Your girl ain't talking to you?"

"None of your business."

"She looks like absolute shit too."

Bucky took a moment to process that.

"Did you guys fight?"

"Again, none of your business, Sam." heaving a sigh, Bucky slowly pushed himself up to his feet, leaving Sam sitting on the couch all alone. Natasha, who was busy making herself something to eat to get through lunch, decided to chime in after Bucky managed to take a few steps away.

"You push her away the second things get hard and then wonder why she hates you."

If looks could kill, Bucky's would murder everyone in that room under three seconds. "She doesn't hate me."

"You want her to hate you."

"Bullshit."

"Because you hate yourself. Isn't that it?"

Sam's eyes were wide when he looked at Natasha. She was the one to deliver a hard kick on the shin when one needed it, tough-loving and relentless with her words- not to hurt the other, but to give them a chance to see things from a different perspective.

When Bucky didn't say anything, Natasha decided to continue. "I don't know how you're justifying this in that 'cyborg' brain but you don't have one single right to punish her. For absolutely no reason, too."

"Natasha-"

"Shut it, Sam." she shook her head. "We get it, you don't like fights. But I never took you for a coward, James, and you're not being anything else but that with the way you're refusing to fight for her."

Nobody said anything else for a solid minute, while Natasha kept glaring at Bucky. His eyes were on the ground now, the harsh nature of Natasha's words hitting him right across the chest- and it hurt. It hurt bad, because he knew that he was hurting you on purpose. "How do I make it right?"

"In my opinion? Leave her the fuck alone-"

"No, no. Natasha, calm your horses," Sam got up from where he was seated, approaching the two with a relaxed expression to calm them both down. "Just tell her how you feel, man. Be real with her. Be completely honest- if you don't love her anymore, just say so. If that's not the case, then-"

"I love her, Sam."

A soft sigh left Sam's lips. "I know. Just talk to her. She'll understand."

Bucky shook his head in a nod. The idea of talking to you was nerve-wracking, to say the least. You hadn't talked to him in a week, despite living in the same compound. Didn't even dare to step into your shared room when he was there, instead deciding to take on a vacant room for a while and get your work done in silence.

You were afraid of continuing that argument, honestly. Because you and Bucky- you two weren't the type to argue. Problems would be solved in peace at all times, with both parties admitting to their faults. So when that dynamic changed, it freaked you out. Just like how falling in love with you freaked out Bucky.

"FRIDAY," Bucky called out. "Where's Y/N?"

An automated voice answered immediately. "I'm afraid that information is classified." Bucky tensed up quicker than he'd like to admit.

"What?" Sam muttered under his breath, gaze finding Natasha's confused one. Natasha spoke up not too long afterwards. "What do you mean by classified?"

"Mr. Stark specifically requested that I keep Mrs. Y/L/N's current location confidential."

"Fucking hell," Bucky heaved a sigh. "Have any of you seen her today?"

"Nah," with a shrug, Sam walked towards the counter to set down his bowl of cereal, suddenly not interested in the food but rather, your whereabouts. "Last I saw her… Yesterday evening, yeah. She was leaving Tony's office, didn't say anything."

"Where did she go after that?"

"Man, how would I know? I'm not keepin' tabs on your girlfriend, that's your job."

"FRIDAY, where's Tony?" Natasha ignored the two, focusing on the matter at hand. For all she knew, you weren't the one to keep secrets from the team. Even on solo missions, you would always keep your tracker on just in case.

"In his office. Shall I inform Mr. Stark of your visit?"

"Nope." lips pressed into a thin line, and a not-so-apologetic shrug. Typical Tony Stark nature. "Just because you live here doesn't mean you have to know everything."

"But she's my girlfriend."

"Just because she made that mistake doesn't mean you have to know everything, Barnes." Tony quipped. "If anyone else in this room was on her position and I were to give away your location, which she specifically made sure that I wouldn't tell, I would be murdered horrendously."

"It's not like her to do that." Natasha's tone was way softer than Bucky's, understandably. She was mad at Bucky and worried about you at the same time but still, keeping her cool was an art form and she was doing it beautifully. "We're just worried, that's all."

"You don't seem like her parents to me."

"Would you tell us if we were her parents?"

"Wilson, use your head. Of course I wouldn't." plopping down on his seat with a huff, Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'd beg to differ but I'm a very virtuous and excruciatingly handsome man, and I made a promise, so… The door is right behind you. I got a lot of stuff to do."

The sound of Bucky's palm meeting the desk separating him from Tony caused everyone's eyes to find his, including Tony. "You have to give me something."

"I don't owe you anything." Tony's words were like venom as they dripped from his tongue, his challenging gaze on Bucky's rampageous one. "But if you really, really want her to hate all of you, fine. She's on a solo mission."

"A solo mission?! You sent her on a solo mission?!" Sam was quick to grab Bucky by the arm, pulling him back a little.

"Man, calm down-"

"Last time I checked, she was perfectly capable of handling a mission and taking care of herself." Tony spoke, calm despite the furious man standing in front of him. "She wanted to go. Why the hell would I say no?"

"Bucky, he's right." Natasha pushed herself up from the wall she was leaning on. Signaling for Sam to possibly take Bucky out of the office with her eyes, she approached the desk. "I'm sure she's fine and she only did that just so you wouldn't go after her."

"Yeah," Sam continued. "Let's just- let's get you out of here. She'll be back before you know it."

Tony didn't miss the glare Bucky sent his way when he left the office with Sam.

Feeling Natasha's judgmental eyes on him, he looked up at her, leaning back on his seat comfortably. "Do you need anything?"

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing, except for her location."

"No," Natasha shook her head. "It's obvious you didn't tell us everything. I'm not expecting you to, but I've known you for a long time, Tony. I can see it when you're leaving a crucial part out."

A sigh left Tony's lips.

"She's indeed on a solo mission. A mission that I know absolutely nothing about, and she disabled her own tracker."

"Are you sure nobody knows you're here?"

"God, Clint, what's with all the secrecy?" you weren't even sure your hushed whisper was heard by Clint, crowded streets of Hong Kong were noisy enough to usher a headache within you. You hadn't seen him in a while, with him retiring again, and God he retired a lot, but after receiving a message with 'emergency, don't tell anybody.' and coordinates, you rushed to his aid rather immediately.

You owed him a lot.

Following him to a small apartment building as he pushed the door open, you looked behind to see if anybody was following, before climbing up the stairs with him. "What's going on?"

"Extraction." he whispered. "Kind of a sensitive one. Tony didn't want anyone involved."

"I really think Laura should lock you up sometimes."

"So do I, kid."

Your time spent in his small hideout apartment was filled with intel and planning. It was supposed to be a very quiet mission, a sensitive one like he mentioned earlier- a swift infiltration to save a former SHIELD agent from where he was held prisoner, just so he could return to his research.

You didn't quite understand why Tony wouldn't want anyone to be involved and to save the agent, but you weren't going to ask. You trusted Clint, sometimes more than you did Tony, and if Clint told you that what he's doing was right, then you'd believe him.

The next day, with both of you suited up, his arrows ready and your secret knives hidden beneath layers of fabric all around your body; the quiet approach to the building went pretty smoothly. He kept telling you to keep your cool and to keep it quiet. This was a stealth op, and made sure to assure you that you were excellent at those.

Except, for all the stealth operations, your partner was Bucky. He was the one who knew exactly what you were going to do without needing you to tell him, he was the one who fought by your side, in so much sync with you that it felt like you two were one mind split to two bodies. You felt safer when he was by your side, calm enough to perform better.

You didn't tell Clint that. You didn't tell him that you felt way too insecure without Bucky by your side to perform well.

He was expecting your help, and you were going to deliver.

Except, things took a turn for the worse far too quickly. You got into the room in which the agent was kept, with Clint following from far behind to keep you safe; and saved the agent from his restraints. Before you could lead him out, though, you heard Clint telling you to stop taking your time because apparently, a swarm of people were coming your way, and he had to hide.

You helped the agent all the way down to the ground from the first floor, through the piping by the outer side of the wall and informed Clint of your current location, before spotting a few men running your way.

Pushing the agent away towards the woods where he could hide and protect himself, you pulled your gun out and managed to down at least two of the five men. You noticed one of them following the agent as the two attacked you; landing a harsh kick by one's neck before sliding out your knife and swinging it at the other's direction, but the distraction that they needed came quickly when through your in-ear, you heard Clint's voice again.

"Shit, abort. Get the hell out of there, get away from the building."

And a loud explosion right to your left followed.

Natasha was torn.

Tony's words kept replaying themselves on her head as she paced around the room, unable to decide between telling Bucky and keeping it to herself. She didn't know what she would be risking if she told him, but at the same time, you could get yourself in a much bigger situation and a supporting pair of eyes at solo missions were always required.

She couldn't bear the worry and uncertainty anymore.

Pushing the back door that led to the living room open with a loud thud, she found Bucky by the kitchen area, and Sam by the couch, watching the afternoon news. "I need to tell you guys something."

Bucky perked up at that, pulling himself away from his moping state to get back up on his feet, and walk towards the couch where Natasha approached. "She disabled her own tracker. Tony has no idea where she is, or what she's doing."

"Shit, how are we supposed to find her, then?" Sam slowly got up from where he was seated in worry. But before any of them could say anything else, a loud explosion sound snatched their attention and brought it to the screen.

"Earlier this morning, a lab explosion took place in a Hong Kong biochemistry lab, for reasons unknown. Public CCTV footage shows two unidentified individuals breaking into the building only ten minutes before the blast."

"Isn't that-"

"Damn it," Natasha whispered. "God fucking damn it, Barton."

No matter how fast the Quinjet was, Bucky felt like they couldn't get there quick enough. His heart was basically beating through his ribs, brain pumping adrenaline into every single bit of his veins as he watched the jet decrease altitude. The news didn't even provide the number of casualties, and the fact that he wasn't sure if you made it out of there alive or not was eating him alive.

The fact that he didn't get to make things right with you beforehand was outright torture.

The jet landed on a clearing by the woods, pretty close to the remote building in which the explosion took place. Bucky's strut seemed like it was made out of steel, as if nothing in this world could even attempt to stop him as he walked in front, Natasha and Sam following close behind. It had been at least twenty hours since the blast, and if you were dead, you'd be identified, right?

The news of your passing would be all over the world by now, right?

"I know where they might be hiding," Natasha spoke up, a bit breathless from having to catch up with Bucky's fast steps. "Clint has a hideout apartment, not too far from here."

"Fuck!" your loud cry was enough to land a grimace on Clint's face, as he let out soft shushes, trying his best to wrap your injuries up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he mumbled, taping down the bandage wrapped around your thigh before giving it a slight pat. "Just a contusion. I know it hurts but you could have it much worse."

"I know, but it still hurts, you idiot!"

"And whose fault is that? Not mine!"

Letting your head fall back on the cushion with a thud, you let out a slight groan. "How's the agent?"

"Called somebody to pick him up," he sighed, pulling himself up from the floor to sit next to your laid out figure. "I genuinely didn't know that they had explosives laid out through the building. Some sort of eradication. Must've been big, whatever they were hiding."

"Couldn't really keep it quiet, huh?"

"Unfortunately," he chuckled. "But we saved him, at least. Probably going to get an earful from Tony when he finds out… But you did a good job. Thanks for coming."

"Didn't have anything better to do," a grin made its way to your lips. "Don't even wanna go back, if I'm being honest."

A frown took over his features. "Did something happen?" and he continued, when your only response was a slight nod. "Bucky?"

"That easy to guess, huh?"

"Nothing else has an impact on you," a soft chuckle followed. "It'll be fine. You two- you shouldn't lose each other. Not over anything."

"I don't know if I can make sure of that anymore, Clint."

"Look, I'm saying this from a man's point of view," he repositioned himself on where he was seated, now completely facing you. "And I don't ever want you to think that I'm sexist or something, but, um… We're different. In a bad way- we're not… Complicated like your kind."

"My kind? Okay, now that's-"

"No, shut up, you know what I mean," he laughed. "Every single woman that I had the pleasure of meeting knew what they wanted. Maybe it was a bit rough around the edges, maybe it was just a scaffolding but there was a plan. There was an… expectation of how things are supposed to go, you know?"

A short silence followed. "And because of that scaffolding, you folks don't freak out as much as we do. And when you do, you still make sense. We don't. We freak out over the smallest inconvenience and everything goes shit because we don't know how to restructure our own plans that quickly. We take longer to adapt. Because we're a bit more primitive, does that make sense?"

You smiled at him, earnestly. "That's… vague, but it makes perfect sense. Thanks."

His hand found yours then, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry about it."

That night, Clint woke up to footsteps across the apartment. He was sleeping on the armchair by the side of the bedroom, making sure that you were safe on his bed since you had to take a pill or two to manage the pain and fall asleep quicker.

Quickly getting up to his feet, he grabbed the pistol he placed on your nightstand earlier, slowly pulling the door open- only to find Natasha, with a gun in her hand, seemingly relieved to see Clint.

Clint brought his finger up to his lips, signaling the room as to let her know that you were asleep. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"That was a sloppy op, don't you think?" Natasha whispered back, teasing. "Gotta warn you, Barnes will be here in a couple of minutes and he's going to be mad, Clint."

"Let him be," he sighed. "She's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the front door got pushed open, revealing a worried and seething Bucky and an apologetic Sam following suit, shutting the door slowly after the other. "Where is she?"

"She's in the bedroom-" Clint stepped in front of the door, shutting and guarding it. "She's exhausted. Be quiet."

"Why the fuck is she with you?"

"Hey, not like I kidnapped her, alright?" Clint rolled his eyes, still speaking as quietly as he could. "I needed her help and I couldn't call anybody else. I'm sorry I kept your girlfriend away from you for literally two days, Barnes."

Bucky took a step back, heaving a deep sigh. He was angry, angry at you, angry at Clint, angry at himself… Yet he didn't know where to direct that anger. He didn't know how to calm this feeling down. "Why didn't she tell anybody? Not even Tony- what the hell did you make her do that she felt like she needed to hide from everyone?"

A scoff left Natasha. "Bucky, stop making assumptions."

"No- you know what?" Bucky was getting louder by the second, and nobody in the room had the guts to shush him down. "My girl doesn't hide anything from me, ever. I need to know what was so important that she had to turn her tracker off and you had to lead her into a building full of explosives."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that the lab would explode?!"

"You were supposed to make sure that it's-"

"Bucky?" your frowning, sleepy figure appeared by the door that everyone was too busy watching the argument to notice opening. Bucky's gaze visibly softened when he saw you, tense shoulders relaxing before Clint stepped out of the way and with a few steps, he approached you to pull you into his embrace.

You didn't hug him back at first- instead sending a confused look to the rest, to which Sam shrugged as a response. "Are you okay?"

"No, are you okay?" he asked, pulling away to get a good look at your figure. A few cuts and the bandage by your thigh was visible as you were just wearing one of Clint's old shirts and underwear. "Are you okay?" he asked again, tone more stern this time.

"I'm fine," you pushed his hands off of you. "Why the fuck were you yelling at Clint?"

"Yeah, alright, have that conversation without us," Clint sighed, pushing the two of you into the bedroom gently before offering you a small wave and shutting the door, to give you some privacy.

Bucky sighed before looking at you again, wanting so bad to just cup your cheeks and leave kisses all over your face- but he knew he fucked up, and you were mad. "I was worried about you. You left without a word, and when I heard that your tracker was off-"

"I don't owe anyone any explanation." your tone was harsh. "And I'm sorry if I thought that you wouldn't give a shit, Bucky. You made it pretty obvious that you wanted me to leave you alone."

"I never said that," he ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to stay calm and work this out- but you were almost as stubborn as him, if not more. "I never- I care about you, alright? You're my girlfriend, and you should've told me where you were going."

You shook your head to both sides in disbelief. "You're not entitled to that."

"Y/N-"

"No, you're seriously not entitled to knowing anything about me. Not when you have the audacity to treat me like I'm nothing more than an absolute stranger, and then to not even make an effort to talk to me for a whole week."

"I freaked out, alright?!" he sighed. "I was fucking terrified because- because of you!"

"How the hell is that my fault?!"

"It's your fault! You're the one who made me fall in love with you!" he was loud, and you got cryptically quiet.

He never dropped the L-word before.

"It's your fucking fault because I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop worrying about you, I can't stop making everything about you and it's putting everyone in danger!" you were biting back a smile now, as he kept ranting. "Including you! I can't- do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you and not just burst into tears because oh my fucking God, you're the love of my life and-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, your hands cupping his face. He was shocked at first, unable to comprehend the sudden switch from arguing to kissing, but he wasn't going to complain. Wrapping his arms around your body delicately, he deepened the kiss, exhaling softly against your mouth when your fingers massaged the nape of his neck.

"You're such a fucking idiot," you whispered against his lips. "You're like, the dumbest person I've ever met. Your IQ is so low that-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry. I genuinely am. I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't love you- because I do, I love you so much that it's physically painful."

"I thought you were tougher than that, Bucky."

"I'm just a coward, honey." with a shrug, he pulled you closer to his embrace. "I'm just a fucking coward, nothing more. But you know what? Seeing you so angry at me, telling me that I don't deserve to know anything about you- that hurt more. I guess I- I really can't be without you."

"I can't be without you either," you sighed. "I've been so cranky, just ask Clint."

"Oh, I'm still kicking his ass."

"No, Buck," a soft giggle left your lips. "He actually plays a grand part in me forgiving you. And he's one of my favorite people in this whole world, so, I won't hesitate to punch you if you ever yell at him again."

"In that case, I'm thanking him. And kicking his ass in my head."

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lovelesscherub · 3 years ago

Text

written for @harringroveweek and inspired by the july 29th prompt heatwave. it’s pretty fluffy stuff ♡

It was too hot to sleep, which had never been the case in Hawkins until, well, now apparently. The warmer-than-usual temperatures were bearable during the day, when Steve could actually cool himself down with iced drinks and popsicles, sitting in front of a fan while lounging on the couch half-naked. But at night, it was impossible for him to get any sleep with the sheets sticking to his sweaty skin. His entire bed felt like a furnace as Steve tossed and turned and kicked his legs, huffing in frustration as he rubbed his hands over his face and tousled hair.

Steve had left his window cracked open, but the air in his room hung heavy and humid, anyway. He felt like it was getting harder to breathe, and there were no more cool spots on his bed for him to move to. Every position was hot and uncomfortable, and Steve decided to give up.

Just as Steve sat up in his bed, he heard something hitting the glass of his window. It was just for a fleeting second, and Steve sat there staring at the window, wondering if the heat had melted his brain into a mush and started making him hear things. But there it was again, something small hitting his window with a sharp clank, making Steve scramble up and over to his window.

“I’m here to use your pool, pretty boy.”

Billy stood there between the sunloungers, hands stuffed into the pockets of his red shorts, his hair up in a mess of curls as he looked up at Steve with a grin on his lips.

“Wanna join?”

Steve must have had the dumbest smile on his face as he stared down at Billy. He was bewildered, but in the best possible way, because Billy had just casually, in the middle of the night, invited himself over and announced to Steve that he was there to use his pool, and Steve could do what he wanted with that information.

Billy didn’t wait for an answer, which made Steve’s dumb smile grow even bigger. He caught a glimpse of Billy walking towards the pool while getting out of his shorts before he was sprinting out of his room and down the stairs, sliding the glass doors open to get to the pool.

“Skinny dipping?” Steve asked as he walked over to the pool and past the red shorts Billy had thrown onto the ground.

“I thought swimwear was optional in your pool, Harrington”, Billy shot back, floating in the pool naked.

“That’s right”, Steve laughed, sitting down by the edge of the pool in his underwear, dipping his legs into the water.

Clothing was absolutely optional when it came to Billy spending time over at his place, because Steve would take every chance he could to see him naked. He was gorgeous, and Steve knew that Billy knew it, too. All smooth muscle and tan skin. Thanks to working at the community pool all day long, he still looked like he had just arrived from California. Steve also knew that Billy had no problem whatsoever with being naked, letting Steve feast with his eyes all he wanted.

“Why’d you decide to come over?” Steve asked, and he saw Billy raising an eyebrow at him. “I don’t mean that in an accusatory way, you idiot. I’m obviously happy to have you floating naked in my pool. I was just surprised.”

Billy rarely came over unannounced. They always had to plan ahead; when they were going to hang out, when Billy was going to come over, when he would actually be able to spend the night. Neil kept him on a tight leash, and as much as Steve just wanted to keep Billy safe with him and away from his piece of shit of a father, it was more complicated than that. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep in this heat”, Billy hummed, and while Steve had been lost in his thoughts, staring ahead at nothing, Billy had swum over to him, wet hands on Steve’s thighs cooling him down nicely.

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked. It felt like an intimate confession, and it made Steve smile. He played with a couple of loose, golden curls that had somehow managed to remain dry on Billy’s head.

“Oh yeah. Your pale ass wouldn’t survive a day in California”, Billy chuckled, and before Steve could protest, Billy was pulling him into the water, dunking his head under.

It was probably true. Steve wasn’t used to heat so he didn’t handle it well. But knowing Billy was eventually going to go back to California, Steve wanted to be able to handle the heat well just so there would be a chance for him to go with Billy. Some hope that Billy would want to take Steve with him. Maybe it stung a little, Billy joking about how he wouldn’t be able to survive a day there, but Steve was all the more determined to prove him wrong. He would survive. He would be able to handle it. To be with Billy, he would do anything.

When Steve resurfaced, wet hair glued to his face, he heard Billy laughing at the sight of him. It was a genuine laugh, soft but genuine, and Steve couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he pushed his wet hair back.

“Cooled down yet?”

“This actually feels really fucking nice.”

“You’ve got a pool in your backyard, Steve. Use it, for the sake of my sanity, man. Because I’m jealous as hell.”

“You can come and use it whenever you want.”

“I know, pretty boy. I know”, Billy hummed as he swam closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and pulling him in close, which in turn made Steve wrap his legs around Billy’s waist, arms around his shoulders.

“It’s a crime you kept your boxers on”, Billy murmured, his hands had slid down to hold Steve by the ass, hands cupping his cheeks firmly.

“Maybe you can take ‘em off me later”, Steve answered. Billy just wiggled his eyebrows at him, and Steve leaned in to catch Billy’s grinning lips into a swift kiss.

“You’re enjoying the heatwave, aren’t you?” Steve asked after pulling back from the kiss.

“Hell yeah. It reminds me of home.”

It was open and honest, and Steve had noticed from the moment he had seen Billy under his window that he somehow looked softer around the edges. Now he understood that the heatwave was a little piece of home, a glimmer of hope. Steve would take uncomfortably hot and humid sleepless nights any day, if it meant seeing Billy like this, almost pleased, almost happy.

“It’s good practice, y’know?” Billy said in between kisses he pressed along Steve’s neck and shoulder. “When I take you to California, you’ll be able to enjoy the sun and the heat. Besides, I’ll be there to help you cool down. And I’ll buy the strongest fucking sunscreen I can find to keep you from burning.”

When I take you to California. There was Steve’s glimmer of hope, making his heart flutter in his chest, spreading some extra warmth all over his body that Steve didn’t mind one bit.

“I can’t fucking wait”, Steve breathed out, practically beaming before Billy kissed him.

He was looking forward to hotter summers ahead.

#harringroveweek #harringrove #lovelesscherub's writing

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tipsydipsydo · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: tall! & sub! Reader x dom! OT7 BTS

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut/PwP

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Dom-/Sub-Dynamics; accidental overhearing of a phone call, Mentions of Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Mentions of Sex Toys & Masturbation; slightly mentioned Double Penetration; mentions of Anal play; Praising; Petnames; some Degradation; Daddy-Kink; Teasing; slight Edging; the boys are teasing the poor reader to Death

A/N: Well- that was a quick writing. Instead of studying I decided to write this funny request and to use my procrastination in a better way than scrolling stressed through TikTok. I hope y’all like it!!

Status: unedited bc I am lazy and should study.

Request: i want to request a drabble/one shot: sub taller male reader and his seven boyfriends in which he confidently talks naughty things with his friend on phone but when he realized his bf are watching, he became crazily shy because he is just a big cute boy, then his bf decided they want to test those ‘words’ he has said, poor boy =))

Requested by: anonymous

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

After too many and super busy weeks full of work, you’ve finally managed to find a free afternoon in your schedule where your best friend and you have enough time for a nice, long telephone call on the couch. You are already over one and a half hour on the phone, exchanging the newest stuff that happened in your life with each other and joking around. Slowly your conversation turns their focus to your more private life and your bestie asks you about your polyamorous relationship with your boyfriends. At first just normal things like, how’s it going in general, how you all manage the relationship with all the different time schedules, how often it comes to fights and how you deal with that etc. Just normal stuff and the ‘typical’ questions you’re already used to, when people realize that you’re not in a monogamous relationship.

Your best friend and you grew up together. You met each other in elementary school, went through the curses of puberty as an inseparable team and even survived middle and high school thanks to the other one. Already in your teens, where both of you made your first experiences and got into your first relationships, your best friend had a guess that you’re not as straight as you want him to believe. No, they even assumed that you’re maybe not made for the typical monogamous relationship which the society preach every fucking day.

Well, turns out that your best friend really knew you better than you did yourself back then but honestly, nowadays you’re thankful for their suggestions and that they gave you the save space you needed to dare to make new experiences in those directions.

Nevertheless, they were still more than surprised when you introduced him to not only two or three boyfriends, no that you brought seven (!) other men to their birthday party two years ago. At first they were a little worried if you didn’t overload yourself with such a complex relationship dynamic and that it’ll turn out as a serious burden and not an enrichment for your life. Turns out, now it was their turn to make a false assumption about what’s the best for you and theu were more than happy to admit that everything turned out just fine. It truly makes their heart swell to hear the happiness in your voice through the phone everything you mention something about the boys.

Quickly your phone call turn into an even more private talk and dedicate itself to the really interesting stuff. You’re sharing every detail in your life with another, so why should it stop when it comes to sex talk? You have absolutely no problem and any shame to talk freely with your best friend about your kinks and dirty thoughts. Sometimes you even think that you’re better informed about each other’s preferences better than your actual partner(s) are.

“I think, I already told you that idea more than once... that I have a thing for exhibitionism and the thought of getting catched doing something ‘forbitten’ or ‘dirty’, right? Uhm... TMI but I don’t give a shit, whenever I am alone at home because they’re busy and we can’t meet for some days... I mastubate with some of the toys they’ve bought for me and imagine that they catch me. You know, when we have sessions with Dom and Sub Dynamics, they’re only temporarily and usually we go back to normal in the moment when the scene is over... that means, when I am alone and horny, I can do whatever I want to. I can jack off or fuck myself as much I desire and they wouldn’t say anything about it. It’s not like, I don’t appreciate my personal freedom when it comes to masturbation or that I want something completely different, no! We both already talked about that too, I don’t like the idea of Total Power Exchange, I prefer to be an independent person as soon as I walk out of the bedroom- okay, not only bedroom, we have sex in other places than the bedroom too- ANYWAY, what I wanted to say with that: ...”, you mutter and take a deep breath into your lungs.

After holding such a long monologue your mouth dried up terribly and now you need quickly something to drink. You get up from the couch and walk over to the kitchen island to pour some soda into a glass. A satisfied hum leaves your throat after you took some gulps of your favourite sparkling sugar bomb.

The whole time, where you moved around in the eat-in kitchen of the apartment, you are not that alone anymore as you thought you’d be, especially right in this moment. Namjoon, Hoseok and a boyish smirking Jimin joined you around ten minutes ago, leaning casually against the wall next to the door of the room and listen very interested to the conversation you have with your friend right now. They didn’t mean to overhear your private talk, they just wanted to know what kind of take-out food you’d prefer for tonight.

Unfortunately your conversation turned out to be very, very interesting for them, so they decided to give you some more time to talk with your best friend about the sexual fantasies you have which they don’t know about... well, until now.

Hoseok texted the other boys in the group chat to join them in the living room as well, they need to hear those very important information too!

Poor you, completely oblivious and naïve to what’s happening in this moment, not getting any kind of hint that not only your best friend would get those significant informations...

“...-what I actually wanted to say with that: I prefer to be independent in relation to all other non-sexual life-responsibilities. Well, that doesn’t mean we couldn’t increase the Erotic Power Exchange, right? To be very honest, I can’t get the fantasy of them taking my sextoys away and to forbid me to touch myself without their permission out of my head. I love to be their good boy and to get praises, I really do... but there is this thrill to be break the instructed rules, getting caught while doing it and getting punished for it. I want... I want to get called bad, filthy and dirty names, I want to be a disobedient, greedy and insatiable slut for them. I want to get spanked, edged and overstimulated, I want to get fucked into the mattress so bad, up to the point where I can’t get a single clear thought together and my brain turned to mush... I want to get used, ruined and wrecked by their cocks, getting my holes stuffed full with their cum and then plugged up, so nothing can run out anymore- God fuck, I should stop talking like that or I’ll get a serious problem! Well... sorry for so much detailed TMI, you know that this shit always happens when you tell me to stop overthinking and encourage me to spill everything that comes to my mind. Now you got every filthy detail you’ve asked for, you’re welcome.”, you joke sarcastically and facepalm yourself. You can’t believe how incredibly blunt and shameless you just threw your latest sex fantasy in every fucking detail at your poor best friend.

Usually you’re more than shy to talk about such things, in your understanding the magic for your shameless mouth towards your best friend has to reside in the deep thrust you have in him and simply the knowledge that your relationship is platonic. It’s not like that you couldn’t trust your boyfriends wholeheartedly, god no! You know, that they would never kinkshame you for anything,

it’s just... after sharing those thoughts it would result something out of it. You don’t want that they think you’re a weirdo or that they only do specific things because they know it would turn you on.

The other one just snorts in amusement when you voice this slight helpless apology, they can imagine the significant blush which has settled down on your cheeks.

“Hey buddy, don’t apologize for that. There is nothing to apologizing for, I am way too curious for my own good as well and I need to make sure that you’re happy in your relationship, especially when it comes to the point if they are able to fulfill your sexual desires. I need to know that, believe me. Okay, there’s one thing... I knew you were submissive, my dude. But I didn’t expect that you’d be such a masochistic hoe and that you’d have such a thing for degradation, Jesus! Nevermind, more important: did you talked with them about that fantasy? Would they be down for this idea and would they like to be more in charge? Please do not tell me that you’re too shy to talk with them about it, not again! I tell you this every goddamn time, communication is key!”, your best friend says to you in a serious tone.

Here you go again, getting scolded by your friend all over again. He is right, you know that... y’all already talked about ‘how to deal with certain kinks some of them or you have but the others aren’t into and how to not make them feel bad or insecure about it’ several times, you tend to overthink everything you have ever said to them all over again. You are always so flustered when seven pairs of eyes are looking at you, waiting for an answer. You are tall, even taller than Namjoon, but under their curious stares you feel always so small, fiddling with your fingers around like a little schoolboy. You love that about them, putting you into such a submissive place just with their aura and charisma and giving you the feeling as if they overtower you physically too.

“I can absolutely agree with Y/BF/N, communication is key. Why didn’t you told us those nasty fantasies you have in your cute head up here, right away? Too shy again? Do we really need to call your best friend the next time to get some hints to your secret kinks, Babyboy?”, Taehyung rasps into your earshell and wraps his arms around you. He chuckles slightly as you squeak high-pitched in surprise.

An equal surprised yelp of your best friend comes out of the speaker of your phone which takes Yoongi out of your hand and excuse you with the apology that ‘they need to have an important talk with you now and that you have to hang up unfortunately’.

The display of your phone turns dark and Yoongi puts it on the surface of the kitchen island before he flashes you a dirty smile. That you’re mortified that they caught you spilling all those filthy fantasies to your best friend is the understatement of the century. Never and you mean never did you hoped so bad that the floor opens up and swallows you whole, saving you from this embarrassing misery. But Yoongi give you much time to drown in shame, coming up to you and connect your lips to a rough kiss.

“God, I love it when our so sweet and shy Baby has such nasty and indecent fantasies in his head... why don’t you tell us these ideas in every single filthy detail once again? I think we could turn the information into some very good use, big boy~”, whispers the smaller one with blown-out eyes against your lips.

“...or would you prefer that we call you a needy cumslut, hm? The things I’ve heard give me the assumption that you want to get fucked stupid and pumped full with cum as if you are our personal playtoy?”, growls Jungkook and grabs himself a handful of your right asscheek, kneading it with a firm grip in his big palm.

“Come on, big boy, admit that you want exactly the things Jungkook just said... I can feel how fucking hard you just got from his words... already so hard and swollen against my palm even though we barely touched you. You’re truly such a pathetic, needy slut... I bet you’d already cum in your pants if we just tease you enough... Am I right?”, chuckles Namjoon in his deep, arousal soaked timbre against your neck, nibbling at the sensitive spot of your Adam’s apple.

“...what about we change our location to the bedroom and talk about the things you’ve said to Y/BF/N? Maybe we could try some of your newest kinks out? Would you like the thought of us watching you from the couch while you prepare your needy asshole for us? Showing us how you stuff you clenching rim with a girthy dildo? Wearing a cockring so you couldn’t cum without our permission? Prepping yourself all messy, whining for our finger, tongues and dicks in your ass like the greedy slut you are? Yeah, you’d love that thought.”, Seokjin teases you mercilessly, rolling your sensitive balls in his palm, just how you like it. “Y-Yes, Daddies... I’d love to be a greedy cumslut for you... please turn me into one!”, you wisper.

@cys-mental-escapades; @bangtanloverboys; @btsxmalereaders

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advnterccs-archive · 2 years ago

Note

❤️ — what are some of your best qualities?

🍦 — favorite ice cream flavor(s)?

🧶 — any non-writing hobbies/interests?

🎁 — what have you accomplished in the rpc that you’re proud of?

munday asks! || accepting

{ OOC } 1. Damn, my best qualities? Well, I guess I'm very thoughtful(?), I care a lot about those I'm closest to, I'm a real good listener (so i've been told), and I guess I'm a very strong person with a clear-head who tends to always find the best solutions for those who are in need of help.

But that's all I can say xD 'cause I'm blanking

2. Well, for ice cream, I gotta go with the traditional flavors of Vanilla (and any version of Vanilla, including Vanilla Bean and French Vanilla~) but also the more unique flavors, I gotta say cookie dough and birthday cake! They're so good and I usually get it whenever I'm at the store (especially if it's Ben and Jerry's or the other one that has a German name that I can't spell because my brain is mush today xD)

3. If I'm not writing I usually play video games. Currently I'm playing Two Point Hospital (which is somehow a game i play every once a year and around this time too ? it's a coincidence but a fun one tho xD) and also the Sims 4. I also like singing and dancing, but not in like the casual way. I've been dancing since i was 8 and usually I like either coming up with my own choreography or learning other choreographies for songs. I think I have like 5 choreographies learnt because it takes a lot of time and practice for me and usually i can't find the time xD

4. This is a tricky question because I don't think I've accomplished much? Like I'm grateful that I've managed to build a little community of crossovers 'cause the Rick and Morty fandom isn't that big. So I'm always happy whenever other fandoms decide to adopt my Rick and Morty.

And I'm very proud of the fact that my Roleplay Resources blog has gotten a lot of attention too, I've never seen that many notifications and I'm always amazed xD

#countlessrealities #{ answers ; 🧪 }#{ i can't do anything casually i always gotta be super good and perfect at everything 😩 }#{ it's a curse -- hence why i can't learn skills if i'm not immediately good at it }#{ but i swear i can do casual dancing too and i don't mind having fun with it xD }#wubba lubba dub dub. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴘᴏꜱᴛꜱ

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lucyintheskywithxanax · 4 years ago

Text

I Saw You Trying, My Love

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: ok so this is long, and angry. It all happened because I really wanted to explore the headcanon that Wilhemina would be very possessive and very jealous if she were in a relationship. How would that relationship work? Could it work? I hope you’ll enjoy this piece, lovelies <3

Word count: ~ 8 200

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Wilhemina’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and angry.

You ignored her. You kept shoving the contents of your wardrobe into your bag.

“I said, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I heard you the first time,” you snapped. You threw one last pair of socks – your favourite, fluffy and glittery – into your bag and gave it a shake. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

You zipped up your bag and stomped past Wilhemina out of the room you had shared with her for the past two months. She must have realized how serious you were, by then, because she followed close behind you. She had never done that before when you had had a fight. She was too proud to run after you like a desperate child. Usually she would let you walk off and wait for you to blow off steam. But today, the sound of her cane followed you down the stairs and into the living room as you went around it, grabbing items you would need – your book, your glasses, your phone charger. Wilhemina’s watch. You threw that back on the couch when you realized what it was.

“Has your brain turned to mush? Where do you plan to go? You have nowhere to go to, Y/N.”

Wilhemina positioned herself in the doorway, blocking your way, both her hands gripping her cane. You came to a halt in front of her and scowled.

“I’m not a baby, Wilhemina,” you retorted, your face mere inches from hers. Your words were thick with anger. “I’ll get along just fine without you. Actually, I’ll be better off without you. Now move.”

She stood her ground, glaring back at you.

“What are you gonna do?” you hissed. “Uh? Lock me up? Bring me food once a day, torture me? Are you going to lock me up in here until you break me and turn me into the obedient pet you wish I were?” You paused to take a breath. “Is that your plan, Mina, my love?” You all but spat the last two words at her like a curse.

For a second you recoiled. You hadn’t meant to do that, turn a term of endearment, a promise of care and tenderness whispered so many times before to soothe and comfort and reassure, into poison. But on second thought, you were glad you had. She deserved the sting.

“I don’t –“she started, but you interrupted her.

“For God’s sake I have the right to spend time with my friends! Not all my life revolve around you, Wilhemina! You cannot keep me with you every minute of every day like a fucking dog!” A fresh bout of fury rose to your head and took control of you. “I can spend time with other people, I can enjoy myself without you! But what I can’t stand is you snapping at me and calling me names every time I so much as smile to someone else! I’ve had enough.” You lowered your arms in defeat, shaking your head at her. “I’ve had enough. I’m leaving. Move.”

Wilhemina’s face was hard and angry, her jaw clenched tight, her poise proud and dominating, but her eyes – you had always been able to tell what she truly felt by looking into her eyes. They were your favourite thing to stare at, not only because it was so easy to get lost in them, but because they were the key to understanding her. The key that opened the safe where she hid herself when she did not know how to communicate or thought she had to lie to keep herself safe. Her eyes were always, always honest. Especially with you. You took one look at them now and then had to look away before your resolve left you.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To Maggie’s place.”

Wilhemina scoffed bitterly. “Why, of course. Right into the arms of the daft prostitute.”

“Mina she’s my best-friend since high-school,” you growled, raising your free hand to rub your forehead in frustration. “Please don’t insult her.”

“And what a friend indeed. Always so eager to please, so eager to have you all by herself so that she can lay her dirty little hands on your arm or - ”

“This is what best-friends do!” you roared.

Wilhemina didn’t even flinch.

“Why don’t you screw her tonight?”

“Alright, you – you know what, I’ve had enough.”

You pushed past her, and you must have been too brutal, or maybe she had been unsteady to begin with; in any case, she dropped her cane, and her knees gave way. She winced as she braced herself for the fall, for the pain – but you wrapped your arms around her waist to support her, and held her against you. “I’ve got you,” you whispered into her hair.

Time froze. Silence fell. You closed your eyes, nuzzling your nose in her hair. What were you doing? Leaving her? Ridiculous. As if you could live without her. You pressed her closer against you, feeling like you could burst into laughter at your own excessive behavior. This was just like any other fight you had had with Wilhemina before, nothing you could not mend. Leaving this house, leaving this woman, had never been an option. It would mean leaving your heart. Leaving a part you wouldn’t – couldn’t – survive without.

You dropped a kiss on her forehead and were about to pull away. To cup her face and kiss her mouth and laugh with her at how stupid, how childish you were.

But then you remembered. All the times she had gone too far. All the snapping and the hurting and the possessive, jealous, unhealthy behavior. Earlier this afternoon she had slapped one of your coworkers and friends for “standing too close to you”. It was the first time she had used physical violence. The last straw.

You knew where it all came from, the insecurity and the fear and the pain. But that did not make it acceptable.

Gently, you let her go, picked up your bag and made for the front door.

“Y/N?”

She followed you down the corridor, stopped a few inches away from you as you turned the key in the lock. You felt her hand brush your elbow, but she did not touch you. Somehow it was this, her hesitation, that broke your heart.

“Don’t come after me,” you told her over your shoulder.

“Y/N don’t you dare –“

You opened the door, ignoring her, closing your eyes against the setting sun and the tears that were starting to pool. Wilhemina’s voice rose behind you again, not angry anymore, but shaking, and terrified. She was terrified.

“Y/N don’t you – “

You slammed the door behind you and ran down the driveway to your car, afraid you’d turn back and fall into her arms if you stopped for one second.

It hurt. It felt like your heart had been torn out of your chest. You opened the door of your car with shaky hands, sobs wracking your body, barely seeing anything through your tears.

You didn’t remember much after that. You must have driven all the way to Maggie’s. Knocked on her door, with your bag in one hand and sobs bubbling out of your throat. She must have let you in, asked you, were you alright, was Wilhemina alright – perhaps she hugged you. Certainly she made you some tea, for Maggie was one of those people who believe tea can make everything better. As if you had not irremediably broken what you cherished most.

You must have drunk your tea, to please Maggie.

The bed in her spare room was big and comfortable. The sheets smelt of fresh peaches. You spent the rest of the evening cocooned in their warmth, alternating between dozing and sobbing into the pillows. When night fell, Maggie brought you dinner on a tray. She sat beside you as you swallowed what your stomach could hold. And then she asked you what had happened.

You hadn’t been able to tell her yet. You’d thought that, perhaps, if you kept it a secret, your leaving Wilhemina wouldn’t be real. You would be able to go back home and find her there waiting for you. She would rise when she’d hear you come in, and she would smile that fond smile of hers and wrap you up in her arms and kiss you slow and sweet. Somehow, all of your problems would be gone.

It didn’t work like that. You knew it didn’t. But still, you couldn’t help but hope.

Maggie didn’t believe you, at first. She gawked at you, then narrowed her eyes and scrutinized your face. She was naive, Maggie. Very romantic. She believed love was stronger than everything else. She had spent five minutes with you and Wilhemina and proclaimed with tears in her eyes that she had never seen two people more in love. It simply wasn’t possible for you to be without Wilhemina, and for Wilhemina to be without you. You would cease to exist. The world would explode.

But then, as you dissolved into tears again, unable to finish your story as you desperately clang to her, her face fell. She let out a small “oh” that sounded so surprised, so final, so defeated. It rang in your ears like a bell mourning death.

You didn’t go to work the day after. Nor the day after that. You knew Wilhemina would be at Kineros, knew she was too hardworking to even consider taking a day off. Hell, Wilhemina could be dying of pneumonia, she would still drive to work and sit at her desk and boss everyone around. Throwing snarky comments like knives at frightened employees, making sure everyone was doing their jobs. You could picture her, sitting straight and proud in her chair, with her cane leaning against her desk and her hair tied in that high ponytail you loved so much, for it accentuated her sharp cheekbones. Had she taken off the photograph on her desk? Of you and her, on a sunny day in the countryside a year ago, a few days after you had started dating. Your hand on her cheek, your teeth on her chin, her eyes half-closed and crinkled up with laughter.

You wouldn’t have gone to work even if Wilhemina hadn’t been there. There was no point anymore. You had never really cared for the job anyway. The only thing that had made life interesting had been Wilhemina.

So you spent hours in bed until the sheets no longer smelt of fresh peaches but of your sweat and tears. You went for a run with Maggie. You tried to keep yourself busy, read a book, watched movies, cleaned Maggie’s house. You knew you couldn’t spend the rest of your life at Maggie’s, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It became harder to get up in the morning. Harder to fall asleep at night. So you daydreamed and thought of Wilhemina. To soothe the pain of her absence. You thought of her face in the morning, still soft from sleep. That magic moment when she would wake and those big, brown, doe eyes of hers would meet yours and smile. How deftly she would do her hair, ponytail always perfectly centered. How sometimes, while she waited for the water to boil for her tea, she would stare out the window and get lost in the view.

One day it struck you how often Maggie did touch you. She was a very touchy-feely person, had always been: she would pat your shoulder or hold your hand or stroke your arm or kiss your cheek. It was innocent, she behaved like that with everyone. But now you realized how it must have looked to someone as insecure as Wilhemina.

Maggie was beautiful. All blue eyes and soft strawberry blond locks and pink cheeks and pretty flowery dresses. She was soft, and selfless, and very kind, and everyone adored her. She taught French at the University. Had a fiancé, wanted to start a family. Exercised every day. She was normal and healthy – more than that, she was perfect in every way. No rough edges, no high walls, no back pains that kept her up all night, no early appointments to the doctor’s, no days that could be ruined by one glance at her reflection in the mirror. Maggie had found her place in the world and the world cherished her.

And yet – and yet how brighter Wilhemina shone in your head. She was a lighthouse, Maggie a candle. How much more precious and rare Wilhemina was. There were a million things in her that singled her out as one of the most fascinating person you had met. How she could make a witty comment on something the likes of Maggie would never notice in the first place. How she would stare right into the eyes of whatever scared her and defeat it with patience and determination. How deeply, how fiercely she loved.

On the eighth morning without her you woke up completely panicked and haunted by the knowledge that she was hurting on her own. She would never tell anyone she needed help, she had never allowed anyone but you to see her vulnerable. She would push on through her days as if everything was perfectly fine and go back every night to a dark, cold, lonely house where everything would remind her of you. Did she get enough sleep? Was she even eating? It seemed likely to you she would use food deprivation to punish herself. Eating the bare minimum to make it through the day without collapsing.

You asked Maggie to check on her. She drove to your house one evening and came back in a sour mood. Oh, Wilhemina was just fine, she jeered. Her usual pleasant, cheerful self. She had opened the door, taken one look at her, and sent her off with a scoff. Maggie was so angry she spilled most of her drink on the floor. And despite it all, you couldn’t help but smile.

In the morning of the tenth day, after Maggie had gone to work, you came downstairs and slumped on the living room couch. It was a beautiful, sunny day, so you had opened all the windows and the front door to let the draft in. You prayed the fresh air would take away some of the ache in your chest. Or maybe a murderer would walk into the house and put an end to your misery.

You were starting to doze off when you heard a knock on the front door. You started, and sleepily called out “It’s open”.

Silence, as if whoever stood outside hadn’t quite made up their mind to come in yet. You yawned, scratched your head. The sound of a cane tapping on the floor filled the hall.

For a second you felt you were about to faint. Then your body sprang up, eyes wide-opened, heart pounding in your ears.

You sat down on a nearby chair facing the door. Ran a hand through your hair, straightened your clothes. You waited.

Tap. Tap. The sound of her cane brought tears to your eyes – for how you had missed it. Not so much the sound itself but the promise that came with it, seeing her, being with her. Love and happiness and everything that mattered in the world.

The tapping stopped. You raised your head. Your racing heart leaped out of your chest straight into her hands, like a fledgling that had left its nest too soon and flew back trembling and terrified to the safety of home. How stupid you had been to leave at all.

She stood in the doorway more beautiful than you remembered her, because so painfully missed, so hoped for, so loved.

She looked tired, but fine – not exhausted, not starved, not over-worked. Thank God. Some of the tension that had been building in your shoulders vanished. You searched her face for signs of emotions and truth behind her facade, but could find none. Even her eyes were inscrutable.

For a few, agonizingly long seconds you both stayed silent, glaring at each other, both of you too proud to lower your eyes or look away first. Then Wilhemina took a breath and opened her mouth, and your body leaned towards her in expectation.

“Your productivity at work this past week was astonishing,” she said.

Right. You straightened in your seat, and crossed your legs.

Wilhemina waited, but as no answer came from you she added: “Do you intend to get fired?”

“If you’ve come here to scold me, you can leave now,” you mumbled. Your hand started rubbing circles on your knee. “I’m not interested.”

Another pause. You picked a book on the coffee table and stared intently at it. The silence was painful. From the corridor came the ticking of the clock hung on the wall. You could just make out Wilhemina’s purple shoes and pale ankles out of the corner of your eye.

When the silence became intolerable, you tilted your head just enough to shoot her an angry glance and snapped: “Why are you here?”

Wilhemina tapped her cane threateningly on the floor. That didn’t faze you. Not anymore.

“I’m here,” she said in that low, slow voice she always used when she was mad, “as your superior and as Kineros Robotics’ HR manager, to remind you that you have a job and that you are expected to actually show up at your workplace.”

Was she getting enough sleep? Only now did you realize that she was leaning on her cane a bit more heavily than usual. Was her back hurting her? Did she even take her pain medicine? On several occasions before she had refused to, as a form of punishment against her disability. You had had to coax and beg for her to finally agree to swallow the pill.

“I expect you to answer me when I talk to you.” Wilhemina’s voice, sharp and angry, brought you back from your thoughts. You glanced up at her again.

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“If you do not go back to work tomorrow I will have to dismiss you.”

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“Your unjustified absence is quite simply intolerable.”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you repeated.

Another pause. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Anger and irritation had subsided and been replaced by a sort of numbness that still had an aftertaste of want. You stared at the book, your fingers still rubbing circles on your knee as you listened to the ticking of the clock in the corridor.

Wilhemina spoke, and this time her voice wavered on the last word. “When are you coming back?”

She meant to work, of course. You lifted your head, met her eyes. She meant come home.

“I’m not coming back,” you answered, keeping your voice casual to hide the fact that your heart was breaking yet again, small pieces drifting away and colliding with each other.

“What do you want me to do?” Wilhemina cried, her eyes widening in exasperation. “Crawl at your feet and beg for mercy?”

She barely ever raised her voice. Her anger and contempt were always expressed in a dangerously slow and low tone. A high, raised voice meant she felt cornered. It meant her self-control was slipping away. It meant her facade was breaking.

You leaned towards her in your seat, hope seeping in your veins.

“How about you start by apologizing to Pat?” you said, as casually as before.

“Who’s Pat?”

“My co-worker and friend you so kindly slapped in the face last week. And to Eva, whose fingers you threatened to clip off one by one because she had the audacity to touch my hand. And to Maggie. You called her such terrible names when all she did was being there for me. Do you see the problem, Mina?”

Your little speech had made you angry again, bad memories flooding your brain, so it was a surprise when her nickname slipped out of your mouth. It seemed to quiet her for a second. Her shoulders relaxed. She even took a tentative step towards you. But then her face hardened again, and when she spoke her voice was back under control.

“I will do no such thing,” she snapped, tapping her cane on the floor. “All those idiots you mentioned had it coming.”

You sighed and slumped back into your seat. You knew what she was doing. Suddenly you were brought back to the first time she had allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of you. It had been one evening in the second week of your relationship. She had had a bad day, and her back was hurting her, and the only way she had found to express that – the only way she had known how – had been by snapping at you for overcooking the pasta. You had been about to snap back, when an apology had slipped out of her. Soft and unexpected. You had fallen silent in surprise. Her hands had started to fidget, and she had looked angry with herself, couldn’t meet your eyes, couldn’t find anything more to say, couldn’t stop fidgeting. So you had hugged her, run her a bath, made love to her, brushed her hair until most of the tension had left her body.

Snapping was her way of protecting herself, you knew that. But still – it hurt, and you had had enough.

“Well then, please, leave,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and raising one hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“So you can be in the delightful company of Maggie the Cat?” she snapped.

“Oh for God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you sighed, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

“Sweet, sweet Margaret,” she sneered, taking one more step towards you, her hands shaking. “With her sweet maiden face and her cheerful disposition. So charming, so lovely. She’s part of that disgusting group of radiant fools who will lead the world to its demise with their shallowness and their stupidity.”

You jumped to your feet. “Maggie is my friend,” you growled, planting yourself a few inches from her, your whole body hot with anger. “If you loved me as you claim you do, if you had an ounce of respect for me, you wouldn’t say such things about her!”

Something on her face changed at your words. You couldn’t tell what exactly, but a feeling of dread suddenly came over you.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the floor, raised her chin and hissed, “Maybe I don’t. Love you, at all. Maybe I only used you for company.”

You took a step back, reeling as her words echoed in your head. You knew she was lying. What you two had shared had been too strong to be fake. She had trusted you with things and parts of herself she had never told or shown anyone before. She had let you love her and trusted you would not hurt her.

In a better world you would have been able to control your anger. You would have taken a few deep breaths to calm yourself and put your hands on Wilhemina’s shoulders and told her for the hundredth time what she obviously still needed to hear – that in your heart, Maggie did not hold a candle to her. That Maggie was your friend and you loved her, but not the way you loved Wilhemina. That you would go to Hell for her and beat Lucifer’s ass if it meant keeping her safe.

But this was the real world, where battered souls keep hurting each other. Anger burnt in you like a fire and filled your brain with smoke until you could no longer think. Only fight back.

“Maybe I did, too,” you snarled.

You saw her hesitate. You saw her snarky retort die on her lips as she took in your words. And for a moment it felt great. To know you could still affect her, still peel off her layers and press the pads of your fingers on bare skin. But you had only ever stroked before; never scratched.

The tap of her cane on the floor surprised you, for it sounded weaker than usual. It did not bounce off the walls but fell at her feet like a weak preemie and died.

“If you do not show up tomorrow at 8 then don’t bother coming back at all,” Wilhemina commanded. “Kineros will do just fine without you.”

She was staring at something above your left shoulder, and she was breathing too fast, as if she were trying very hard not to cry. When she felt your gaze on her face she briefly shifted her eyes to yours. She blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Mina,” you started, taking a step towards her. She raised one hand to stop you.

“That will be all,” she said, and wiped the tear away.

You let her turn on her heel, walk down the corridor and close the front door behind her. You stood as if petrified in the middle of Maggie’s living room, until something in you broke. You grabbed the book on the coffee table, hurled it at the wall, and screamed.

When Maggie came home that evening, she walked into your room with a moody, “What happened to Virginia Woolf?” She waved the battered book at you until you turned and she saw your face.

“Oh, babydoll, what’s wrong?”

She held you as you sobbed and wailed. She stroked your hair and whispered sweet-nothings to calm you down. It only made you cry harder, for it reminded you of all the times Wilhemina had comforted you. How she, too, had held you close and tried to find the right words to stop your tears. But Maggie was taller and stouter. Her body did not fit yours as Wilhemina’s did. When you eventually took a long breath in through your nose, her perfume smelt wrong. Too sweet, too floral.

You didn’t show up at 8 at Kineros the day after. It had been hard to care before, now it was simply impossible. You stayed in bed, wishing you could disappear into the sheets. You ignored Maggie’s encouragements and reproaches. You didn’t care.

Maggie brought you water and food, which you nibbled at mechanically. Time passed. You dozed often, but never slept.

Time kept on passing. You waited. You weren’t quite sure for what.

On the third day your phone rang. You reached out for it, and accepted the call without looking at the screen.

“Hello?” you mumbled, your voice raspy from disuse.

“Oh, Y/N?” said a familiar voice. “I thought you were dead.”

“Jeff.” You closed your eyes. “Look,” you started, “I know I haven’t – “

“What have you done to Venable?” Jeff cut you off.

Your eyes opened. “What do you mean?” you asked, your grip on your phone tightening.

“She hasn’t shown up for the past three days.” There was a loud noise at the other end of the line, then Jeff’s voice again. “Last week she was even more bitchy than usual, and now she’s gone. I don’t know where the file I need is, I missed all of my appointments and what’s worse, we’ve run out of coke. I can’t be a genius if I’m not high. Y/N?”

You barely heard him call your name. You could barely breathe from fear.

“Y/N, you still here?”

“Yeah, I –“ You swallowed around the lump in your throat.“Are you sure she’s not at Kineros?”

“I’m at Kineros, Y/N, and Venable isn’t,” Jeff answered, annoyed. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I won’t let your sapphic affairs ruin my company.”

“I – “You stood up on shaky legs. You had to move, you had to do something to keep the panic at bay. It wasn’t like Wilhemina to miss work. She’d rather die than shun her responsibilities. And three days in a row? Something must have happened to her. Your brain started making up all kinds of dreadful scenarios in which she had been hurt, hit by a car, abducted, in which she had locked herself up in her room without food or water, jumped from a bridge, bought a plane ticket to some faraway country where you would never find her.

“Y/N?” came Jeff’s voice, interrupting the mad race of your thoughts.

“Yes, I – “You forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Venable isn’t my responsibility,” you heard yourself say.

“Look, Y/N,” Jeff retorted, his voice growing angry. “You’re expendable, Venable is not. We need her. I don’t care what you do, but you better make sure she comes back tomorrow.” And with that he hung up.

For a few seconds you stood petrified with your phone still pressed against your ear. And then you jumped into action. You dressed, grabbed your handbag, flew down the stairs and in your haste nearly collided with the door of your car. You forced yourself to drive under the speed limit on your way to your house. Dying wouldn’t help.

Part of you realized that it felt good. The life pumping into your veins again. You felt like you had finally woken up.

You parked on the sidewalk in front of your house, too impatient to maneuver your car up the driveway. You ran to the door and knocked on it. You closed your eyes as you waited, panting. You sent a prayer to whomever you could think of – please let her be okay. You didn’t care how mad you were with her anymore. Just, let her be okay.

The door opened. You looked up.

Wilhemina was wearing an old, faded lilac sweater and a pair of black cotton shorts. Her hair was down. She had no make-up on. When her eyes met yours, her face didn’t harden or fall or change at all; she merely held your gaze, as if she were too tired or too numb to react.

“You’re here,” you breathed out in relief. You could have burst into tears of joy at the sight of her alive and safe.

“I only own one house,” she said dully.

“Right, of course, I know.” You scratched your head nervously. “Er, Jeff called. He’s, er, worried about you.”

Wilhemina watched you unblinkingly. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. It was all you could do to stop yourself from collapsing into her arms and kiss her senseless.

“He said you haven’t been to work for three days,” you tried.

“And why,” she said, “do you care?” There was no trace of animosity in her voice. In fact, there was nothing at all. No emotion. No life.

“He asked me to come check on you.”

Shit. You could have slapped yourself. Wilhemina’s face did harden, then, and she made as if to close the door, but before she had time to you cried out: “No, wait, that came out wrong. Please.” You held up a hand. Wilhemina waited. “He told me you hadn’t shown up in days, and I got worried. That’s why I came. Not because he asked me to.”

She watched you for a few seconds more, then lowered her gaze. Her left hand came up to fidget with the hem of her shorts. She looked so small in those clothes, so young and so fragile. Tears stung your eyes. You blinked them back.

“Can I come in?” you tried.

Her eyes met yours. Please, you begged her in your head. Please, let me in. Please, give us this chance to make it right. Your heart was beating so fast it was starting to hurt.

Eternity passed before she finally – oh what bliss! – stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, got a whiff of her perfume mixed with the faint smell of sweat. She ran a hand through her hair nervously, leaning slightly away from you to close the door.

The house was exactly as you had left it, and yet it looked so different. Quieter, somehow, and a bit battered, as if it had just come back from the battlefield to rest and mourn its departed friends. Your footsteps echoed loudly down the corridor as you walked to the living room. You took off your shoes and shoved them in a corner. To make a point. That you didn’t mean to leave until you had talked things through.

Wilhemina stopped in the doorway and waited.

“Um, thank you,” you mumbled. “For letting me in.” As if it weren’t your house, too. But that wasn’t the point.

Wilhemina nodded. Silence fell. You looked around the room nervously, at a loss for words.

“Are you okay?” you finally blurted out. Wilhemina glared at you. “Right. Sorry, stupid question.” You swallowed hard. “Have you, um, have you eaten? I could make something.”

“Who am I to stop you?” Wilhemina answered flatly. “We both know how you need to keep yourself busy when you’re nervous.”

“It’s not about me,” you countered. “I was wondering when you last ate, that’s all.”

She held your gaze for a few more seconds, then proceeded to walk around the room to rearrange things – a candle on a shelf, the cushions on the couch, anything. You watched her, noticed the slight shaking of her hand, how tightly she was gripping her cane. Her hair fell over her eyes as she leaned forward. She briskly pushed it back.

When there was nothing left for her to tidy, she sat on the couch and opened a book.

You stared at her profile, your hands twitching at your sides. Wanting nothing more than to reach out. Sit by her side. Hold her close. Sink into her warmth.

You cleared your throat, and went into the kitchen.

It did help, having something to do with your hands. It relieved some of the ache in your chest. You were too preoccupied to be creative, so you settled on frozen Yangzhou fried rice and an endive salad. Substantial, but easy to eat. In case she was feeling as nauseous as you were.

You were cutting the endives when you heard Wilhemina call from the other room. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Alright,” you called back, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the door. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

You listened to the sound of running water as the rice thawed out. Thought of the right words to say. Part of you wanted to forgive her without further ado and pretend nothing had happened. But that would only buy you more time. Until the next insult, the next fight. Anger swelled in you like a wave as you remembered Pat’s perplexed face, lifting a hand to his cheek where Wilhemina had hit him. His own outburst, “What the hell is wrong with her?!”, Wilhemina’s cold, unreadable expression. The fear in her voice when you had slammed the door behind you.

You closed your eyes and sighed. The only way you could think of to make things right was to have Wilhemina truly, fully open up to you. Convince her that sharing her fears with you would be better than lashing out on other people. Make her realize, and trust, that there was nothing you wanted in the world more than a future with her.

You turned off the heat under the rice and sat at the table as you waited for Wilhemina. Half an hour had passed since she had disappeared in the bathroom. She loved to take long showers, but she hated being late even more. You had told her she had twenty minutes; any other day, she would have made sure to be ready in fifteen.

You waited ten more minutes before you started to get truly worried. You walked to the foot of the stairs and called out her name. There was no answer. You called out again, louder. Silence mocked you.

You hurried up the stairs, your heart in your throat, and knocked on the bathroom door. “Mina? Are you alright?”

And still there was no answer. And you were starting to grow angry again, at her silence, at her shunning you, when you heard it. Faint and muffled, but unmistakable. A sob.

You opened the door and rushed into the room.

Wilhemina was sitting on the floor with her back against the tub and her face hidden in her hands. Her wet hair was dripping on her lap, soaking the purple bathrobe she was wearing. She must have dropped her cane, for it lay on the floor under the sink a few feet from her.

You rushed up to her and dropped on your knees.

“Baby,” you called, reaching for one of her wrists, “what happened? Are you hurt?”

You tried to gently pry her hands away to get a look at her face, but she didn’t let you. If anything, she stiffened and buried her face deeper in her hands.

Her shoulders shook as she tried to stifle the low, painful sobs that wracked her frail body. You gently brushed her hair back as you waited for her to calm down, not daring to wrap your arms around her, but dying to offer her comfort.

Eventually her sobs turned into sniffles and soft hiccups, and you asked her again what had happened.

“I dropped my cane,” came her answer, weak and muffled. “As I was getting out of the tub.” A shudder ran through her.

“I’m sorry,” she went on. “This…” She lifted one of her hands, then, to gesture at her body, and you caught a glimpse of her face, red and coated with tears. “You deserve so much better than this. Please, go back to Maggie.”

You blinked at her words, at the pain and anguish they expressed. How had it come so far? How blind had you been? Not to realize how insecure she was, how convinced she was she could never be enough. To the point that she had agreed with herself to let you go.

You shook your head sadly. “But Maggie’s not the one I want.”

She let out a small, pitiful noise at that, and dissolved into tears again. This time, you didn’t think. You scooted over and gathered her into your arms. She sank into you, her hands coming down to clutch your shirt, her face pressing against your chest. There was no restraint anymore. No trying to stifle her sobs or hold back her tears. She let it all out, sobs shaking her body as she sank deeper and deeper into you, as if she were desperate to make one, to leave herself behind and become part of you.

Her sobs grew louder, and she seemed to have lost all control on her breathing, a gasp in and out and out again without inhaling. She was working herself up in quite a state, so you did the only thing you could think of to help her calm down. You tipped her head up. Captured her lips with yours.

Her mouth was wet and hot and salty, but you didn’t care. You wanted so much more of it. It tasted like home, and love, and safety. You had missed it so much, kissing her, feeling her. Your hands came up to cup her face, fingers pressing on her drenched cheeks as you pulled her closer, humming softy into the kiss.

It did quiet her. Her breath hitched, her shoulders tensed, but then she was kissing you back fervently, as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. You didn’t know anymore. You were only aware of the sweet warmth of relief coursing through your veins and making your head spin. And of something else, something that ached and throbbed – want. It frightened you, this level of want. Your whole body was burning and tingling with it. It wasn’t so much lust as merely wanting to hold her. To feel her again. Love her freely and endlessly.

Again it hit you how stupid you had been to think you could ever live without her.

When you broke the kiss for air, she let out a whine and immediately chased after you. She was still crying, hiccups rippling into your mouth, drenched skin rubbing against yours. She circled her arms around your neck and bit down on your lower lip, hard, as if to mark you hers. A vampire bite, to contaminate your blood with hers and make sure you and she were the same.

After a while she broke the kiss and slumped into you. She was practically sitting on you now, arms tight around your neck, face buried in your chest, hip digging into your lap. You ran a hand through her hair as you rubbed circles on her back, humming a soft lullaby as a few last tremors shook her body.

It had started to rain outside. You suddenly became aware of the patter on the roof. You leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s and closed your eyes.

“I didn’t mean it, you know,” came her voice, raspy but soft. “What I said the other day. I do love you.”

You hummed, dropped a kiss on her hair. “I know.” A pause. “I love you, too. Of course I love you.”

She let out a shaky breath, then sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. You leaned in to kiss her burning eyelids. You kissed her forehead, a magic kiss, to soothe the throbbing in her head.

She met your gaze, bit her lip. You gave her a smile.

“Come on, get up,” you urged.

You waited for her in the living room as she cleaned her face, dried her hair and dressed. She put on the pajama set she always wore when she wasn’t feeling confident: baggy pants and a shirt that was too big for her. It didn’t cling to her body. It hid her body completely from view.

You managed to convince her to eat some of the rice. You ate in silence, watching her as she chewed and swallowed. She was sitting perfectly straight in her chair, head held high, eyes on her plate. When she was done, she delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin, which she then folded on the table.

You waited. She stared at her empty plate for a moment, and then frowned.

“Look,” she finally said, “this is hard for me. I don’t know where to start.”

You nodded. “I know. That’s alright. Take your time.”

“I don’t usually… talk – “Her voice faltered. She glanced up at you, eyes dark and still rimmed red. You smiled in encouragement.

“Your friends,” she went on. Paused. As no other words came out, you got up from your seat, kneeled in front of her, and reached for one of her hands.

“I don’t hate them,” she said very quietly, staring down at her plate.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You have a very peculiar way of showing it.”

Her lower lip quivered and her brow pushed up as if she were about to start crying again. You gave her hand a squeeze.

“Hey, none of that. Talk to me. What really bothers you about my friends?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowed hard. You waited. When she opened her eyes again, they were shining with tears.

“I – “She shook her head, let out a sad laugh. “I don’t – “Her voice cracked. Her eyes met yours. “Please don’t – “

“It’s okay,” you whispered, bringing your free hand up to cup her cheek. ”I’m staying. I’m listening.”

A tear dropped from her eye, crashed between your thumb and index; and then she inhaled shakily and it all came out of her at once, words stumbling out like a panicked mob out of a room on fire.

“I’m afraid you’ll find someone better than me. All those kind, healthy people, I’m afraid you’ll truly see them one day and realize you could have so much better, so much more.” A breath out, as her face crumpled. “I don’t – I can’t – “A sob pushed out of her throat, and her breath hitched, and when she tried to inhale again she let out a noise as if she were choking. “I don’t – I don’t think I can ever be – be enough for –”

“Okay, you’re okay,” you cooed as her breathing grew frantic. “Mina, you’re okay.” She shook her head, her body slumping as fresh sobs tore their way out of her throat. “Hey,” you breathed, blinking back your own tears. You let go of her hand to cup her face.

Her cheeks were burning. You ran your thumbs over her cheekbones, catching her tears as they fell.

“Mina, I know you’re hurting,” you whispered. Your voice broke. You cleared your throat. “Baby, I want to be here for you.”

She nodded, hiccupping as she tried to wrestle her emotions back under control. One of her hands came up to wipe sloppily at her nose.

“Let’s move to the couch, ok?” you suggested. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

She didn’t let go of your hand on the very short way to the couch, her palm clammy against yours. She always did that, always had to be touching you: her ankle pressed against yours, her hand resting on your arm or on your waist, her shoulder brushing yours.

You sat down, and she hesitated before she snuggled up to you. She rested her head on your shoulder and reached for one of your hands in your lap.

There was a quiet moment, silence only broken by Wilhemina’s sniffles, and then you shook your head and teased, “What am I going to do with you?”

You felt her stiffen against you. “Because it’s such hard work and you never do a stroke of work,” she snapped.

“Mina,” you warned.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

You dropped a kiss on her head. “Okay.”

You wrapped one arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. Automatically your hand started playing with her hair.

“You know,” you went on, “it’d have been easier if you had just told me how you felt instead of taking it out on my friends.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do. From now on, you be honest with me. Whenever the bad thoughts come, whenever you feel like you could never be enough, you tell me. It doesn’t have to be with words, if that’s hard for you. We can decide on a code. Like this,” you poked her hip, and she jumped and let out a chuckle,” or this,” you leaned in, blew raspberries on her shoulder, “or this,” you stuck out your tongue and licked her cheek.

“You’re gross,” she laughed. She raised one hand to keep your face away from hers, but you dodged it and gently blew into her ear.

“Y/N.” She had meant to sound firm, but laughter rang in her voice.

“I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a threat?” you teased.

“I think the real question is, what am I supposed to do with you.”

“Um.” You pretended to think that through.”Love me.” A kiss on her shoulder. “I think love me is good.”

She looked up at you with a wistful look in her eyes. Her hand came up to touch your cheek. She smiled, soft and tender and fond, the smile she only ever gave to you. “Love you is good,” she whispered.

Her eyes flicked down to your mouth. You leaned in to kiss her, pouring tenderness into her mouth. When you pulled away, she let out a soft sigh as if she were about to fall asleep.

She rested her head on your shoulder again and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s alright,” you whispered back.

It still rained outside. You listened to the patter on the roof. Leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s.

She fit so snuggly against you. She made you feel entirely safe, entirely you. You drank from her warmth the solace you had not been able to find in the peach-scented sheets or in Maggie’s reassurances and embrace.

After a while, you felt her nudge her nose on your shoulder. She drew a shaky breath, and asked, “So you’re not leaving?”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability and fear in her voice.

“Um, no,” you answered. “I’m giving you a second chance.” A kiss on her forehead. “How long I’ll stay is entirely up to you. And Mina, please believe me when I say I hope you’ll give me reasons to stay forever.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be content with forever,” she said.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you’re not.”

She shifted against you, moved her head to plant a lazy kiss on your neck, draped one arm loosely around you. Her hand slipped under your shirt and she dragged her nails on your skin, across your belly, down the curve of your waist.

And then you felt it. A poke, on your left hip. Like a question.

You grinned. “Just like that, my love.”

#ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #fics

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lessthanimpressedlesbian · 2 years ago

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🤡🛒🍦

Hello!! Thank you for leaving me an ask!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Like I mentioned in this ask, I write angst for the most part! But I've been sitting on an incomplete fic that is more light-hearted than what I usually write. Here's another snippet from my imodna camping au that pulled a laugh from me when I reread it!

Laudna mistakes Imogen’s tension for frustration, her hand moving to rest gently on Imogen’s thigh. “I’m not upset, dearest. At you or Ashton. And besides!” She leans closer to Imogen, pressing the sides of their bodies together. “You know I love cuddling.” Her voice dips low in that way that scrambles Imogen’s brain into mush.

Just kill me. Please, she begs the universe. Death would be kinder than this torture.

When the uncaring cosmos continues to ignore her existence, Imogen forces herself to take a few steadying breaths, each exhale taking some tension with it.

I just like causing Imogen pain! I think her suffering is amusing.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Every single fic I've written deals with feeling like you're not enough. Whether it's Imogen or Laudna, I always include elements of self-doubt, self-hatred, and self-deprecation. The vehicle for discussing these things is miscommunication and lack of communication. So many issues could be solved if they were honest with themselves and actually talked about those feelings to each other. I also like writing about the journey from have little to no self-worth to growing to love yourself. Imogen and Laudna are just great characters to write about this topic with.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

I have a fic I've been slowly chipping away at for the last month and a half that's titled "Adoration." It's slow going because I'm far more practiced with writing angst, but I wanted to try my hand at writing something fluffy. I'm writing it for a friend (and I'm hoping they don't see this, hence why I'm posting this so late), so I'm not gonna say too much, except for this little sneak peak!

Imogen grew to love Laudna for the person she made herself to be. She found love in those quiet moments, in the mundane rituals Laudna carried with her half-way across the world.

There wasn’t a single definitive moment when Imogen fell in love with Laudna. Instead, loving the gorgeous undead woman was a steady journey down a path Imogen didn’t realize she was walking until it was too late to turn back.

Like I said, it's slow going so I have no idea when I'll actually post it! But I do intend to finish this and my imodna camping au fic.

Anyway, thank you again for the ask, Astoria!!

#discussion posts #astoriacolumnstaircase #thank you!!!!#I hope you found something interesting in my answers #i didnt realize i write so frequently about not feeling enough #but its in everything i write #both original fiction and fanfic

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officialtrashbusiness · 4 years ago

Text

Hidden Gem - Katsuki Bakugou

info : fluff, cursing, gn! reader, ( kinda? )self indulgent , mostly bakugou’s pov

word count: 1889

synopsis: You’re the quiet and forgettable student in class 1-A that is until you tell Katsuki Bakugou to ‘shut the fuck up’.

Amongst the eccentric students of class 1-A, you were a part of the quiet and reserved minority-- including but not limited to: Shoji, Tokoyami and Koda. Compared to your quieter (and shyer) classmates, you were physically plain. You could say the same about your quirk as well. It was not eye catching compared to the heroic and whimsical wonders that were your classmates. If the people outside of class 1-A were to have a sudden fascination with you, they would conclude that you were part of general education-- the much blander courses of UA. These variables formulated a simple conclusion: You were forgettable, and you were fine with that.

So it wasn’t much of a discovery when the infamous firecracker of a blonde had zero fucking clue as to who you were. So much so that when you had uncharacteristically told him to ‘Shut the fuck up’, after some built up tension of one bad examen score and his constant yowling that you had to deal with as you sat in behind him, he was stunned alongside the class of 1-A. His bubbling brain tried to place the crude nickname that he so humbly gave you just like he did with every bumbling idiot in the classroom.

But his brain turned out blank.

His scrutinizing, carmine eyes traced your complexion as he tried to spit up some basic yet negative nicknames for you that are usually attributed to your physical features. He couldn’t find a defining detail that he could dub you with. It fucking irked him.

What the fuck? He thought. Who..

“Who the fuck were you, hah?” Bakugou snarled. His back was slightly hunched as he leaned forward towards you. His fingers slightly curled at his side as if he was threatening to trigger his quirk in the classroom. His pose and threatening scowl were used as tools to intimidate you. The quirk of his lip exposed the canine of his teeth while his hair seemed to bristle with vexing rage.

Kinda like a cat, you inwardly chuckle as you try to ease the trepidation riddling your brain. The unusual amount of eyes on you were unorthodox and felt like a sunburn. The murmurs and giggles amongst the students of class 1-A had turned your brain into mush. You did not mean to say that out loud.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You shot back without thinking.

A howl of laughter makes you jolt as well as the sudden realization that hits you once you have processed what you had said. Bakugou’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before transitioning into a jaw clenching growl. You could see his whole being vibrate with rage.

The class president marches up from the other side of the room. His instincts pull him from his seat as he predicts that Bakugou’s going to have hissy fit with one of the (supposedly) quietest students in class. His sense of responsibility did not want a scorch mark on the walls.. Or on your face.

“Enough, you two!” Iida scolds as he towers over the both of your sitting figures. “We do not tolerate inappropriate language!” His hand slices through the air, ashamed as he has to scold the two students for fowl language. He turns over to the spiky haired blonde, “I expected this kind of behavior from you, Bakugou but (L/--”

“Shut the fuck up, glasses!” Bakugou spat out as his glare was now pointed at the dutiful class president. Iida’s eyes widen behind his glasses with offense. His mouth parts, ready to fire another scolding towards the mouthy blonde. “Quit your fucking nagging! I’m tired of your uptight ass!”

“(L/N),” Sero calls out. His laugh cuts through the argument and grabs your attention. “I never knew you had it in you to tell Bakugou off!” He tilts his head back with laughter.

Kaminari pats a hand on Sero’s shoulder. His body doubled over with snorts and howling. “Yeah!” He snorts before wiping a fake tear away causing Sero to giggle. “We all thought you were shy and stuff! You’re always so quiet!” He points an accusing finger towards Bakugou. “You even got him to shut up for a second! You’re a miracle worker!”

You chuckle before giving the two jokesters a smug smile and shrug, feeling your heart lighten at the sudden praise.

“Shut the fuck up! This nobody didn’t do jack shit, you fucking dumbasses!”He fumed before hearing the chimes of your giggles enter his ear. His ego deflates as his body bristles. He whips his head towards your direction. “What’s so fucking funny, extra?!” He screamed.

“I just didn’t expect you to listen to me.” You smirked.

An unexpected acquaintanceship between you and the two knuckleheads from Bakugou’s group began to slowly form after that-- much to Bakugou’s chagrin and your surprise. They’re stuck to you like a pair of parasites feeding off of you for nutrients, Bakugou mentally grumbled. He instantly knew the relationship between the three was reminiscent of him and the other parasites in his group. You had grown to warm up to the two boys after they relentlessly poked and prodded you, just like Bakugou did-- although, he would be caught dead admitting any positive comments relating to his group.

By the time you had opened up, the rest of the group had followed suit and made friends with you. It was only natural seeing that you have been recruited by one of the two dumbasses of the group. Having two friends from the group, you naturally melded in.

The quiet demeanor you held in front of class seemed to unravel once you had made your home in the sociable group. You had separated yourself from the distant and shy minority and began to feel more secure conversing amongst your fellow classmates. Although you weren’t friends with everyone in the classroom, you had the ability to smile and approach them with ease.

Amongst all of this, Bakugou was the outlier of the classroom. In contrast to everyone, he talked to you even less than before. His pride and embarrassment impelled him to ignore you, in which you did back-- you didn’t have the gall to bother him. Although the communication between the two of you was dead, he would watch you from afar.

Bakugou identified people by physical appearance but never by name. His mind was too busy bustling about becoming the number one hero for him to care about names. He always remembered faces and the different (most of the time negative) facets of people’s appearance, but he didn’t remember yours. He had never seen your face and he couldn’t deem a nickname based off of the quirks of your appearance, and it pissed him right the fuck off.

So, he watched the way you move, the tone of your voice and the way you talked. He watched your hands move as you talk confidently with his little group of stalkers from the corner of his eyes. His ears picked up the loud chime of your laughter and noted your thoughts and opinions as you broadcasted them to the group.

He had noticed that you were honest and straightforward when the time really appreciated it to be. You were a bit opinionated, but held an air of understanding. He wants to laugh at the fact that you’re a little mean hearted despite seeming to always lend a hand when there was any sign of needing one.

You were different from what he perceived. You weren’t some plain wuss of an extra, and he didn’t know what to think of it.

You were a diamond in the ruff, an intruding thought whispers.

Bakugou stomped away after an excruciating match with Todoroki. His usual hunched back was heavier and the trample of his feet was louder than usual. His heavy set growl seemed more menacing as he grumbled out curses. His red eyes glowered at the floor.

He found himself under the shade where the bleachers were. He snatched his plastic bottle from where it resided underestimating the weight as he realized it was empty. He rips out a growl of annoyance before tossing the bottle into the large blue recycling bin near him.

“You want one of mine?” An all too familiar voice called out.

He whipped his upward to see you sitting two benches up. The upper half of your body was slightly hunched as one of your elbows rested on your knee. Your face leans against the heel of your palm that is being supported by your knee. The arm closest to him is extended towards him as it tries to offer him a cool bottle of pocari sweat.

For the second time, he pauses. His eyes blink as he observes your sitting form, trying to slew some sort of nasty nickname at you, but it comes out blank. Your eyes are a bit sleepy from the sun’s beating and the harsh one-on-one between you and one of your classmates. Your expression is relaxed and seems a bit spacey (or maybe a tad bit soft) as you look down at him. Your cheeks look pillowy as the hand against it pushes out a subtle pout from your lips. You let out a soft ‘here’ before tossing the bottle at him, which he snatches from the air effortlessly.

This was his second time directly talking to you, he thinks to himself as he stares down at the bottle. You had only made comments about him, but never talked to him. He starts to wonder if you also observe him from the corner of your eye or listen to his snappy remarks.

“It hasn’t been tinkered with, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He can tell by the tone of your voice that you were joking, so he looks up to see if there’s a sleepy smile on your face. There was one. “I bought an extra one because I noticed that your bottles are always almost empty as soon as the hero's class is over.” You stated honestly.

Bakugou realizes he’s been too quiet, so he tuts and looks away. Your hotheaded classmate reluctantly twists the white cap as the air around his face begins to warm up.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t need you to be my fucking mom.” He hisses before taking a swig as he tries to avoid the pressuring gaze of your eyes before turning to glare at you as he tightens the lid.

“No need to be embarrassed, Bakugou.” A smug smirk appears on your lips as you chuckle at him. Your sleepy eyes look unintentionally sultry as it accompanies your smirk. It doesn’t help that your relaxed pose enhances the way you. His stomach tightens. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

The flushed blonde reddens even more, realizing that his reaction had been caught red handed. “L-Like hell, I’m fucking embarrased!” He exclaims.

You mirror the wide eyed expression on his face at the realization of his stutter. Your smiles widened as you let out a laugh. It dawns on him as he watches you laugh as to why he couldn’t find a kink in your appearance. The blissed out look on your face as well as the melody of your laughter makes his heart stutter.

You’re fucking beautiful and he hates it.

Please Reblog if you enjoyed it! I might make a part two, but only if y’all tell me to!

#✨👁.writes #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha imagine #imagine mha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #katsuki bakugou #fluff

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2-cute-4-school · 5 years ago

Text

𝙉𝘾𝙏 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 : 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙪𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢

@proseeuhn~aaah its okay if it takes a while! i honestly dont mind! my requests was… how would the dreamies react to their friend/crush who is usually unintentionally quite distant and intimidating being with soft with them and grabbing their hand out of nowhere to just play with it? if that makes sense?? like the friend/crush gets all soft and grabs the dreamies hand and plays with it djskks thank you in advance! ~ Thank you so much for your request (๑>◡<๑) , it was such a fun and original idea, i really enjoyed coming up with scenarios for this (requests are still open btw)

Mark Lee

so mark may be just a tiny huge bit scared of you sometimes

but that’s mostly because babie doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of you 🥺

cuz your rbf gives him THE chills sometimes

you’re the definition of a ‘bruh’ person but somehow that’s a huge charm in mark’s eyes he’s royally whipped been there done that

and the one(1) way mark can fully relax and be in his element is when he’s playing the guitar i’d die to see/hear him

and even after he’s done you’re just ✨ vibing ✨ together in silence

until you suddenly reach out and grasp his hand in yours and bring it close to your face

mark.exe has unexpectedly crashed (((( ;°Д°))))

“woah your fingertips are so calloused from playing”

mark needs a cooler PRONTO (⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾)

he’s OVERHEATING FOR REAL and hyperaware of your warm breath fawning over his fingertips

and then you intertwine your hands and bring them into your lap as you brush your thumb against the exposed skin on his hand that you’re able to reach with a small smile on your lips (ﾟ ωﾟ//）

and mark is SHOOK with your casual display of affection and softness

he can’t help but stare at the soft curl of your lips, the light twinkle in your eyes, the fingers that grip his own so firmly yet so endearingly ♡‿♡

“you’re so beautiful” it just slips out

0.0 pause, delete existence, rewind major PANIC

but to his immense surprise a faded hue of red paints your cheeks and ears (๑•́‧̫•̀๑)

“thanks, you’ll get there too eventually “

（ノT＿T)ノ＾┻━┻ way to ruin a moment

but he does forgive you when he feels the index finger of your other hand trace a faint heart on the back of his hand (*>ω<*)

and mark would spend a lifetime playing his guitar if it meant he’d get to witness this unexpected but very welcomed side of you

Huang Renjun

renjun probably watches you like a hawk

your distant demeanor sometimes baffles him poor baby

but he likes you too much to give up so easily whipped man ٩(♡ε♡ )۶

and he does everything he can to *subtly* hint about his tiny huge crush but without making you uncomfortable renjun best boi we been knew

but you don’t seem to get the gist AT ALL (>皿<)

and renjun is getting more and more concerned on your lack of affection towards him

so babie gets lowkey sad (oꆤ︵ꆤo) not allowed in this household

until one blessed time you’re peeking over his shoulder as he inspects one of his unworldly amazing drawings

*GASP* “JUN THAT’S SO BEAUTIFUL”

you hurriedly take a seat beside him and grab one of his hands in yours as you gush over his artwork

“HOW EVEN, THIS IS JUST…JUST- I HAVE NO WORDS, MY JUN IS THE BEST ARTIST IN THIS filthy WORLD!!!11!!!1!” ლ(^o^ლ)

renjun’s brain and face is overheating

‘we…we’re holding ha-hands??!? and they called me best artist- wait ‘MY jun’??!?!!??!?!?’ （◎0◎）

and while he’s already shutting down, you decide enough isn’t enough and give him THE FINAL BLOW

you run your fingers gently over the back of his right hand and you suddenly lean your head on his shoulder as your soft voice registers in his overworked brain

“your birthmark is so pretty, renjun, so unique” (♥ω♥*)

*please bring cold water, towels, a fan, the entire fridge, renjun is burning alive he hot that’s why*

but renjun makes THE ULTIMATE POWER MOVE and brings your intertwined hands up to lay a *smooch* on your hand 🥺

get a room pls

Lee Jeno

the members once said they also found jeno intimidating and cold before getting to know him

so he’s certain that you only need to open up a lil

that’s why no matter how distant and icy you act towards him

he never NEVER gives up

just shoots you one of his ^‿^ smiles and carries on

and unconsciously, you start to soften up around him

and there a very specific moment when he started to realize that

you were helping him cut up some fruits and as he was about to grab another apple, you grabbed his hand, intently inspecting it

jeno having a heated internal debate : ‘chill man, don’t give them a reason to catch you off guard’ (ó﹏ò｡)

“well i gotta admit lee jeno”

“huh?” insert that cute confused sound he makes

“i’m really awestruck by you”

jeno puffing his chest internally : ‘well it’s damn time you noticed me senpai’ (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

“you’ve really got the ugliest tan i’ve ever seen”

‘ASDFKAWDKSAIKAKJW- *passes out* ‘ X.X

jeno just snatches his hand away and grumbles about fruits and bicycles

he’s sulky the entire day but not because you hurt his ego no

and as much as you love teasing jeno, your growing soft spot for him is acting up and your melted heart just *mush*

so you kick renjun off the couch in order to sit beside jeno renjun tries to protest but you shoot him *that look* and he retreats with his tail between his legs ミ●﹏☉ミ

jeno tries to keep up his deeply hurt act dramatic much

until he feels shy fingers brushing his as if hesitating, before they curl around his firmly

‘ASDFKAWDKSAIKAKJW- *passes out* ‘ x2 because the softness in his heart is just too much for him

later on it becomes a habit neither of you complains

Lee Donghyuck

it’s the 4th time in the past 2 hours

and yes, donghyuck has been keeping count for scientific purposes obv

nvm, it’s the 5th time your hand brushed against his

and hyuck is ✨ ABOUT TO LOSE HIS MARBLES ✨

the demons on his shoulders are arguing by now

‘this is an attempt to subtly hold your hand dumbass’ (－‸ლ)

‘no it’s not, they would never touch anyone, remember when they threatened to chop chop that guy’s balls for touching them?’

‘it’s not the same thing, you’d let the opportunity if holding your crush’s hand pass by like this?’

‘sure go ahead, and then watch y/n dip it in acid’ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

donghyuck shuddered at the thought

what he doesn’t know is that sure, while sticking a random guy’s hand up his ass for touching you is a ‘been there done that’ for you

hyuck isn’t just a random guy

you’d choke on an asparagus before admitting it, but he has grown on you

sure, he’s still an annoying brat sometimes

but he’s so much more than that, he understood you in ways other couldn’t, he was patient with you and did his best to comfort and show you he cares in his own way (｡♡ˇд ˇ♡｡）

and you grew to care for him too

maybe a bit more than a friend should ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“hey hyuck!! my hand is cold, warm it up for me”

you acted on impulse before you could chicken out and before hyuck could answer and slipped your hand in his

demon on left shoulder : ‘ha told ya pay up BEACH’

“you only love me for my warmth” said donghyuck totally not blushing and fangirling on the inside

“pffft i don’t love you, i like tolerate you and just shut up human radiator” said y/n totally not swinging their hands back and forward like kids in love

Na Jaemin

this man= W H I P P E D

y/n makes an edible omlet? jaemin : this is real taste, 5 star michelin right here!! stream gods menu cowards

y/n squishes hyuck like a bug for waking them up? jaemin : yes babe whoop go off cutie!!! (•̀o•́)ง

y/n breathes? jaemin : PERFECTION!!!11!!!1!!1!!

so you went from ‘(•ิ_•ิ)? what is this person saying??’

to ‘ (｡•́︿•̀｡)why isn’t he saying anything’ whenever he omits cheering you

but in a subtle way

you can’t have him catching on

so one day you’re sitting at the kitchen table and he’s feeding you pieces of fruit you whine about being able to feed yourself but nana knows you’re secretly enjoying it

when you suddenly snatch his other hand and one of renjun’s pencils left around and you 🥺 him

unfair if you ask him, how is he supposed to say no so he doesn’t

and you start doodling on his hand o(^◇^)o

he tries to peek at what you’re doing but you squeal softly and move to cover your drawing

“nana! wait until i’m done!!!’ (｀0´)

he *melts* at your cute reactions and resorts to watching your face expressions fondly as he occasionally prods your lips with fruit

“done!!!”

you move away to let him see the cute dolphin you drew on the back of his hand and he gushes about the cuteness of your drawing

but then you shyly start fiddling with his fingers as you explain

“you know how a dolphin helped poseidon find his love? this will make sure you’ll always find me” (๑•́‧̫•̀๑)

jaemin, softly smiling in understanding, curls his own fingers over yours and brings them up to his chest

“you don’t have to worry about that”

Zhong Chenle

chenle doesn’t seem a very affectionate person either

so he’s not really worried about your lack of affection social distancing

what he is worried about is that you’re also distant on an emotional level

because what if he misreads you?

what if you misunderstand him because of the lack of communication?

what if he isn’t there for you the one time you need him?

this baby just wants you to know he cares (◕⌓◕;)

but at the same time he doesn’t want to act in a different way around you read as doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of his crush

also you’re quite close

as friends for now (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

and as he does with all his close friends : he brings you to his home in china!!!!

and this boi has the surprise of his life when you obviously make an effort to open up to his family ໒( ͡ᵔ ▾ ͡ᵔ )७

you smile and chat a lot with his mom and chenle also gets to talk a lot with you since he has to translate so who’s the real winner here

and you know that variety show(?) where chenle dances with his grandpa in the park? you go there too (∗´꒳`)

and while you’re both waiting on the side…

you!!!!grab!!!!his!!!!HAND!!!! and pull him towards the dance floor!!

chenle : Σ(゜ロ゜;) then looks at you being all : o(^◇^) and chenle turns to : (●♡∀♡) whipped culture everyone

he barely even breathes until you settle for a comfortable dance pattern, one of your hands on his shoulder, one of his laying gingerly on your waist respectfully cuz he is a manners man

but most importantly : hands clasped together at the side!!!!!!

and these minutes in which you just dance together without a worry, chenle gets to live his long forgotten childhood dreams 🥺 you know how in cinderella it’s the dance that starts everything? yeah that

chenle marks this date in his calendar and makes it a national day

Park Jisung

lyin’ is a sin so we don’t do that in dis household

jisung is highly intimidated by you (⌣_⌣”)

as in he likes likes you but he doesn’t dare act on his feelings in any way

so renjun and haechan took it upon themselves to play cupid a horrible decision really

and it seems that their attempts at dr. love only ended up in disasters

locked you together in a rollercoaster together? jisung threw up on both your laps (✦థ ｪ థ)ﾉ

ice skating together? jisung stumbled into you, knocking you over so you left the ring with a bruised chin and sore knees and jisung : (シ_ _)シ

arcade hangout? your competitive self almost made jisung cry you not only ignored him but also kicked his ass in every. single. game

so no one had any expectations when they arranged a horror movie night and invited you to sit beside jisung ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

you were awfully quiet since the start of the movie which wasn’t necessarily unusual but ya know

but the atmosphere was getting tenser and tenser and you just knew some kind of jumpscare was coming

and survival comes first!!!! so you clutch onto the nearest thing

jisung’s hand ding dong correct!!!!

and you also bury your face in his shoulder subtly (っ⇀⑃↼)っ

you, shitting your pants : not a word to the others

jisung, also shitting his pants : not one

but uh even though jisung is awkward and everything, he isn’t complaining!!

he finds comfort in your death grip and you’re also his crush so DOUBLE WIN!!! !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

ofc the others notice but they don’t say a word because ✨ you’re cute ✨ so they leave the teasing for later thought you escaped? not a chance beach

and to make it all even more embarrassingly cute, you fall asleep like that

and you wake up the next morning tucked in jisung’s side with a sore neck, clammy hands and 200 notifs on your phone with pictures of you and jisung sleeping from every possible angle (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

and with a soon-to-be boyfriend too

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