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vinbee631 · 1 year

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2 - I Can Show You the World (I Can Show You This Classroom)

Prodigal Sons and Daughters Alike

"Remus wasn’t sure what he was expecting whenever they’d gotten in. Obviously, he knew it was a big deal; the acceptance rate at this school was par to ivy league colleges, so it had to be nice.

He wasn’t expecting it to be this nice."

Chapter title is obviously from the Aladin song lol. Enjoy this annoyingly long creature, sorry about that, the plot got away from my firm grasp for a bit.

Remus wasn't sure what he was expecting whenever they'd gotten in. Obviously, he knew it was a big deal; the acceptance rate at this school was par to ivy league colleges, so it had to be nice.

He wasn't expecting it to be this nice.

Roman practically dragged him out of the car as soon as they parked, already chatting excitedly. Remus stumbled a bit behind him but smiled just as widely.

“Boys! Come get your bags!” It was then Remus’ turn to drag his brother along, turning them around and heading back to the car to grab their stuff.

There wasn’t much to unpack, considering the majority of the clothes they needed were uniforms provided by the school, but the twins each had a full suitcase to bring, along with backpacks for school itself.

With the car emptied, their parents finally allowed the boys to run off, clambering up the stairs to join the rest of their future classmates for orientation. It was probably the first time they had seen the boys act excited about school, so they didn’t have any complaints about the extra energy.

This was only the first day of official orientation, and the only one open for parents as well. The boys would have a week to find their way around the place without the stress of ongoing classes, but today was especially important. There were guided tours, small group icebreakers, individual presentations for parents, and after dinner, there was a big opening performance and presentation, set up by some current seniors who volunteered to welcome the freshman in the best way possible.

Without the thought of official classes, the boys ended up with a full schedule of introductory activities to keep them busy for the week. And hopefully, they would help make all the new students feel a little more at home.

The twins, however, were completely enraptured in the place, so everything after simply getting there was a bonus in their eyes.

They had been talking the whole way up to the main lobby where tours started, pointing out anything that caught their eye and introducing themselves to several students they passed by.

Suddenly, they, along with the mass of students and parents around them, were silenced by a booming voice echoing from the staircase in front of them.

“Welcome to Sanders’ Academy!” Someone called, followed by a much quieter chuckle. “Sorry, that’s just too much fun! I do it every year, never gets old.

“My name is Dr. Thomas Sanders,” the voice continued, accompanied by footsteps as he descended the winding steps. “I am the president of this academy, and also your tour guide, for some of you. If I tried to corral the entirety of our freshmen class, I think I would have a mental breakdown, honestly.” That statement was followed by a scattering of quiet laughter.

“If you were expecting formality and an impossibly long list of rules,” Thomas continued, “well… I have to admit, there are rules. This is still a school, and we have to set some boundaries to keep our students safe. However, the purpose of art is to push the boundaries of formality and reason. These students are given the freedom to express themselves, in whatever ways they choose.

“I don’t know what your experiences have been like, but my time in public school was miserable. So, instead of becoming a teacher there to try and fix things from the inside, I made a different place, a school where students could exist in their talents in an engaging and memorable environment. And that’s where we are now!

“I cannot congratulate you all enough for being accepted. I couldn’t make the process easy, but it shows your dedication. I am honored that I get to see firsthand your accomplishments in the next four years!”

Dr. Sanders grinned at the crowd from the place he had taken on the last step. “Well, I’ve done enough rambling to make it down the stairs, so I guess that means it’s time to hand you off to your tour guides! Would the rest of you like to introduce yourselves?”

Once he had finished his speech (which was awesome, by the way, Roman was SO going to gush about it with Remus, and possibly to his friends back home the next chance he got to send out a text), the twins were barely paying attention anymore. They were ecstatic to tour the school and soak up everything they possibly could in a day.

Thankfully, their tour guide reintroduced themself whenever it was time to get started, as the twins could barely have told you the president’s name at that point, and the whole dang school was named after him.

“I guess I’ll start off by saying: welcome to Sanders’ Academy of Arts! I know Dr. Sanders already congratulated you, but it takes a lot to get here, and even without getting to know you all, I’m greatly impressed with your efforts.

“Anyway, enough with the sappy stuff. I’ll bet you guys are itching to see the school after all that! In case you need a reminder, my name is Sloane, and today we’re starting in the cafeteria! The best place in the school, in my very humble opinion.”

The tour continued similarly, and the twins were in awe the whole time. There was so much to see, including rooms they might never see again because of their class schedules. So, they made the most of their extensive tour, asking questions and commenting to each other on the best parts.

They ended up in the auditorium, their tour group gathering in a cluster on the massive stage. Roman could have stayed there for hours, taking it all in, imagining what was to come here, but they had much more to do. Oh, and their tour guide was still talking.

“Well, now that we’ve made it the whole way around, the rest of the tour is up to you! My friend Corbin down at table six will set you up with a folder with your dorm room number and keys, your official class schedule, and a special schedule for the rest of the events this week.

“Once you get that, you’re free to put away all your luggage, which should all be hanging out in the freshman dorm hallway if you brought it with you earlier! Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you there are a lot of teachers that showed up for orientation this year, so you might have the chance to meet them extra early!

“Good luck with everything, and if you have any questions, me and the rest of the tour guides will be wandering around after lunch, so feel free to reach out!”

Well, any disappointment either of the twins had was gone entirely. Once they each had a small plastic folder with their name printed cleanly on the front, they practically booked it down the stairs to the dorms on the lower level to find their suitcases and their rooms.

Despite what their parents might have thought, the boys were ecstatic to be sharing a room, with four other required roommates, of course. Or, maybe they should call them dormmates? Eh, they could figure that out later.

The six-bedroom dorms were standard for freshmen, and sophomores were apparently allowed to opt for them as well. There were other options as they had more years under their belt here, but right now, the twins were anticipating becoming best friends with the group of people they were rooming with. Once they figured out where that room was, exactly.

Closely following the map that was placed conveniently in the front of their folders, the boys were quickly able to find the rooms they would be spending the next year in. They grinned, quickly swinging open the door to dorm 27.

(Not that the number really mattered at the moment, but it would be helpful to remember so they didn’t get lost in the future. Hopefully.)

Their dorm was split into two sides by a small living room. There were three doors for bedrooms, labeled with nameplates for each of their soon-to-be dormmates, and two more doors with what the twins figured out were bathrooms! There was a level of privacy here the twins didn’t even get at home!

Roman and Remus followed the labeled bedroom doors to find the rooms that were theirs. They were identical, but the contents of their closet and the furniture layouts varied depending on a preference form they had filled out earlier in the summer.

“Ro, come check these out!” Remus directed him over to the bedroom doors, specifically the nameplates on them. “They’re customized with our names and our tracks! How cool is that?”

Roman grinned, following his twin as they read off the names of their new roommates. Along with the two doors with their own names, there were nameplates for “Janus,” in the performance art track, “Patton,” cooking track, and lastly, “Logan” and “Virgil,” both music track students.

They were already planning how to introduce themselves to their new set of roommates, slowly amping each other up further about their living situation. Any trace of homesickness was completely shattered at the thought of having so many new friends close by.

After doing a bit more wandering and taking in the space they’d be sleeping and spending free time in for the rest of the school year, the twins eventually made it back to their rooms to start the unpacking process.

There wasn’t much to do there, though both twins didn’t waste the opportunity for their parents’ help in getting all setup. Well, they were helping, until another one of their new roommates arrived and the twins’ parents got a bit distracted talking to his mom.

Roman eventually abandoned his unfinished room, skipping past the three parents in favor of peeking around the corner to see who had arrived. Well, the ‘Janus’ door was propped open, so that was probably a sign.

He knocked on the open door with a smile, catching the other boy’s attention. “Hey, uh- Janus! Or at least, I assume so, since that’s what your door says. Nice to meet you! I’m Roman, and my twin Remus is just down the hall unpacking!”

Janus looked up at him with a small smirk. “Excellent observational skills, I don’t know you do it,” he snarked. “It is quite nice to meet you, though.”

“Ah, I see you’re a fan of sarcasm, then, fun. Uh, but it is nice to meet another student in a track similar to mine! The only other person I know at this school at this point is my brother.”

“It’s my second language, sarcasm,” Janus continued from the previous point seriously, “probably got me brownie points on my application. All the private schools love to boost their diversity with bilingual students.” Roman laughed. “I guess you’re right about that second part. Well, anyway, my family is about to head out and tour the rest of the school. If you’re not too busy unpacking, would you like to join us? We’re in similar areas of the school, so we could at least walk together if you’re interested.”

Janus shrugged. “The company could be nice, and I’ll have the rest of the year to deal with all- this.” He gestured around his disorganized room as he spoke. “Sure, I’ll tag along, although I should at least introduce myself to your brother first.”

“Oh, of course! Duh,” Roman internally facepalmed as he lead his roommate, and hopefully, future friend, to meet his brother.

Remus was also very excited to hear they’d have a new friend tagging along, and immediately abandoned his focus on hanging posters in his room in favor of helping the other two plot out where they wanted to go first.

Their parents attempted to get them back on track with unpacking, but they gave up on that mission when they saw how excited the three boys were to explore. With just a little convincing, their quickly growing group headed back out to the classrooms.

The building was massive, but very well taken care of despite the overwhelming size. Even the hallways were kept decluttered and cobweb free. Every corner of the school was practically welcoming them in, and it was such a drastic change from public school that none of the boys could bring themselves to stop smiling over every little detail they discovered.

Eventually, they decided to split up when Remus was far too eager to explore his own track classrooms to spend another hour with the two performance arts majors.

Janus’ mom stuck with him, Roman, and Roman’s father. That left Remus to drag his mom around to the best section of the school, in his very humble opinion.

He rushed down to the art rooms, jumping into the first doorway he found. He didn’t bother with the schedule papers stuffed into his backpack, he just wanted to see everything!

They spent over an hour in that section, his mom taking the time to get to know her son’s teachers and their plans for curriculum while Remus admired the amazing quality of the materials he was going to get to use to whatever extent he pleased for the rest of the year.

They had pottery wheels! And the good clay that didn’t dry out after sitting out for only an hour! They had canvases that hadn’t been used and repainted over, and the classroom was large enough that a large number of chairs fit perfectly, with tons of walking space and carrying-around-large-projects space.

“You seem very excited to be here,” the teacher noted with a small smirk. “Of course, I am!” Remus replied, a complete absence of snark in his tone. “I can’t wait to start making stuff in here!”

They smiled. “I appreciate the enthusiasm. You know, I’m hosting some introductory sessions for my students that want to get an early start before classes, or just need something to do. If you end up with some free time, feel free to stop in. No pressure, but I can get you a schedule if you’d like?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Remus replied, looking over the paper he was handed with a bright grin. “I can’t wait! Thanks for letting me look around!”

“Of course,” they nodded. “I’ll look forward to seeing you in class! The name’s Talyn by the way. Don’t bother with my last name cuz it’s obnoxiously long and hearing you little babies call me Mx. makes me feel old,” they complained, making Remus giggle.

“Sure thing! See you then!” Remus didn’t quite rush out of the room, but once he was out the door, he sped to the next classroom, nearly leaving his mother behind. All of the other teachers, whether he had them for classes or not, were very happy to see him and boosted his enthusiasm more than he’d thought possible.

It was invigorating to see, teachers that made their own curriculums and didn’t have to conform their students to mind-numbing subjects that were only taught for testing purposes. They wanted him there, and they wanted him to be creative. By the end of the day, Remus was nearly vibrating from the excitement of the following weeks, and an update text from their dad confirmed Roman and Janus were in similar mindsets.

“Well, that’s the rest of the art section,” his mom noted as they started to wander down an empty hallway of core curriculum classrooms. “Anywhere else you’d like to go before we meet up with your brother and his friend?”

Remus nodded eagerly. “I wanna go back to the cooking place, just to check things out, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, of course! Glad to see you’re starting to pick up on my interests,” she joked. “It should be just down here, right?”

“You’d be right about that!” Remus jumped at the sound of a voice turning the corner. “Oh, sorry! I got a little excited when I heard you guys talking about the culinary arts program. Are you in it?”

Remus shook his head. “Nah, I’m in the physical art track.But, cooking is cool, I just wanted to take advantage of the ‘free-range’ thing for a bit.”

“Oh yeah, that’s cool! My name’s Patton, by the way. I’m a freshman in the culinary program, so that’s kinda how I found myself accidentally eavesdropping on you guys. Sorry about that!”

“No problem at all- wait, did you say Patton?” He nodded, looking just a touch confused. “Uh, yes, I did? Not a very common name, I know, but-”

“Not that, I just- think we might be dormmates? My name’s Remus.” Patton blinked, processing, then absolutely lit up with glee. “Oh, my goodness! You are one of my roomies! Oh, it’s so good to meet you so soon! I guess I was a little early to set up my stuff, and I only got a quick glance at the name tags, but I was hoping to run into you guys! I’m so excited to meet everyone else! Are you the only other one that’s been to our room so far?”

Remus blinked at the sheer excitement radiating off this kid. He was kind of impressed by his positivity. “Uh, me and my twin, Roman, and Janus got there as we were unpacking. Haven’t seen the other two today. Did you know that you are very cheerful?”

Patton giggled. “So I’ve been told. Ooh, I didn’t realize you guys were twins, that’s cool! I just thought it was a coincidence that your names lined up with the Greek myth stuff, similar to Romulus and Remus. Oh, and Janus’ name is a Roman god I think. Doorways and decision-making? Something like that!”

Once again, Remus found himself caught completely off guard by Patton’s energy. “Why don’t we keep talking while you show us around the culinary section?” Remus’ mom suggested smoothly.

“Oh, great idea! I’m sure you’ve already seen some on your tour, but I can give you the full treatment! Follow me!” As Remus got swept up in another engaging conversation with his very excitable roommate, he found himself looking forward to the coming months with him and the rest of the group. Perhaps he could even call them his future friends.

#sanders sides fanfiction #tss storytime 2023 #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders

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rek1s-headband · 4 years

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if it's okay with you, could I request headcanons for reki and langa with a shy s/o?

A/N: Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy:)

With a shy s/o

Characters: Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa x gn! reader

Warnings: none!

Reki

Absolutely loves it

It’s a real comfort to him. Being the upbeat, talkative person that he is, he appreciates having someone there to just listen to him, to just take everything in instead of questioning him on it

Would be like your bodyguard in public. If he feels you’re getting uncomfortable while you’re both around a lot of new people, he’ll either offer to take you around and introduce you to them so you feel better, or take you outside for a breather

Always asking if you’re comfortable going places when he knows a lot of people will be there

Sometimes he can be a bit blind to stressful situations. Being the extrovert he is, he’s a lot more comfortable being around new people, talking and making passing comments with ease. But one tug of his arm or a quiet glance his way and he’s springing into action, holding you close and asking what he can do to make you feel better

Eases you into things. He’s always going to make sure you gradually get used to new places, and will never leave your side

The pair of you met at S. he was racing in a beef against your friend, and you were there to support him. The two of them were on good terms of course, it was just a friendly race

He saw you chatting to him after the race, and he was honestly blown away by how gorgeous you were. He found himself staring, admiring your quiet smile, talking in a hushed voice. He wondered why you weren’t talking louder, it wasn’t exactly a library out here after all.

Langa flicked his temple after a minute or two, saying “if you’re gonna keep ogling them like a creep, you might as well go say hi.” He could feel himself glowing with embarrassment, but before he knew it he was shaking off his nerves and walking right over to you

He called out to your friend, giving him a high five as he began to talk about the race. You stayed relatively quiet, glancing at your phone occasionally and looking around. This threw Reki for a loop, surely you had something to say about the race? Confident as he was, he didn’t feel like starting a conversation without your friend hopefully introducing him first.

Just as he expected, your friend pulled you over, introducing you to Reki. You gave him a smile and a quiet “hello” before going back to your phone. Reki was a bit disappointed, but he didn’t let it show. Soon after, your friend announced he needed to go talk to his friend, and he’d leave you two to chat for a few minutes. You watched him leave with pleading eyes, begging him not to leave you with this complete stranger

There was a silence between you two for a minute or so, but Reki soon broke the silence. “So how did you find the race? Did you like it?” The words were already spilling out, and you felt yourself get embarrassed. What were you supposed to say??

“Yeah, it was..good.” You were mentally kicking yourself, wishing you could say more, but your brain was turning to mush in its attempt to converse with this new person. It didn’t help that he was, well, cute. Like, really cute. His hair was held back with a headband, but a lot of it still managed to escape, his fluffy locks obscuring his vision. You found yourself staring, and only snapped out of it when he waved a gentle hand in front of your face.

“Nothing else? What did you think of my skating? Was I good? Did I look cool?” He was ducking his head down to the part of the ground you were staring at, looking up at you with big eyes. He wasn’t used to talking to such quiet people, but hey, it was something he could get used to. To him, there was something quite endearing about your small smiles and wide eyes, simply taking in the world around you. You reminded him of Langa when he first met him, one-word replies and big eyes. He grinned, hoping you’d warm up to him like Langa did

He began to worry you didn’t want to talk to him when you didn’t respond, but a grin quickly spread across his face when he realised you were blushing. Reki’s mind was going into overdrive as your eyes widened, throwing your hands over your face.

“No! I mean- you were really cool, I liked that trick you did in the middle...” your voice quietened again when Reki dramatically let out a gasp, collapsing to his knees and holding a hand out to you. Your face was practically crimson at this point, frantically looking around, wishing for your friend to materialise and rescue you. You turned back to Reki, about to ask him what he was doing, when he suddenly spoke up.

“THEY SPEAK!!” He shot you another smile. “And here I was under the impression you just stood there and looked pretty.” You felt your face grow impossibly redder, but you surprised even yourself when you let out a loud laugh. Reki looked at you with wide eyes, and he could feel his grin grow even wider. You pulled him off the ground, looking around, still half mortified from his display. You tried to let go of his hand once you picked him up, but he just held it even tighter, his face inches from yours.

“So what I’m hearing is that you liked my skating?” You tried to look away from him, but you could feel yourself getting lost in his amber eyes. Taking the record for the worlds worst timing, your friend came back with a drink in his hand, apologising for how long he took before his eyes landed on the pair of you. To any bystander, the two of you looked quite intimate. Hand in hand, faces inches away from meeting

You pushed away from Reki, resembling a tomato as you waved your hands, telling your friend it wasn’t what it looked like, that you were just talking. You turned to Reki for backup, but you were met with someone who could only be described as though they were on airplane mode. A giddy grin on his face, and a small blush creeping across his face, he quietly ran a hand through his messy hair while giggling. This only worsened your case, turning around to your friend to hide in his shoulder.

Of course, Reki magically ended up with your number by the end of the night, and you were bombarded with texts before you could even set foot outside the doors of S

Langa

Unlike Reki, he’s slightly more versed in the art of silence. You can always guarantee a bit of a brain break when you’re with Langa, just enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence

As for Langa, he appreciates having someone who doesn’t expect him to be keeping up with them talking a mile a minute. Of course, he loves listening to peoples’ endless babbling too, he just likes to be a bit more active in the conversation sometimes, which you make easy with your quieter demeanour, leaving more space in between your sentences for him to give input

He is glued to your hip in public. Mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as you walk along the streets, he’ll quietly talk about random things he finds strange or funny about the things he sees around him, keeping you in gentle company so you dont feel stressed

At any social gatherings with a lot of people, he’s rubbing circles in your hand, making sure you’re not uncomfortable with the people around you. If at any point he sees you begin to get restless, he’ll excuse the oar of you and take you for a walk, or even just to get a glass of water

The two of you met at the skate park. He’d been practicing with Reki when he saw you walk in with one or two of your friends, shifting from foot to foot as you scanned the park, checking to eye who was there. When your eyes landed on him, you were surprised to see he was looking straight back at you. Embarrassed, you looked away. Suddenly the floor was looking quite appealing to you.

Slightly agape, Langa’s mouth quickly turned into a little pout. You didn’t even smile...Of course, you didn’t even know him, but why did he suddenly feel like he really wanted you to?

Reki watched his friend’s mind spin, a little grin settling on his face. Did little Langa here have a crush? The cogs were already turning in his head, thinking of ways to make the pair of you interact. Not to mention, he wouldn’t mind getting cozy with your friends while you two talked...

“Langaaaa, you should really go talk to them yknow.” Langa almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned his head away from you, a look of panic spreading over his face while he stammered out that Reki had it all wrong, that he just wanted to see who’d come into the park. Reki tutted, putting his hand in his chin. He mumbled about how Langa shouldn’t lie, that it was normal to find people hot, which earned him a smack into the back of his skull

Somewhere during the play fight, the two heard a flurry of hello’s being exchanged, and they looked over to where you had been standing. Your friends were now talking to who Langa assumed were more of your friends, and watched as you trailed a little behind, carrying your skateboard awkwardly and not really knowing what to do with yourself. It became apparent to Langa that these new people weren’t friends of yours, and he felt his heart ache as he watched you stand a few feet back, glancing around and at your phone.

Reki saw how Langa stared at you, and before long he was dragging Langa up, and over in your direction. “Come on prince Langa, save your damsel in distress.” Langas brain went jdskhvmhcb as he thought of just what he was supposed to say to you, and hoped Reki would just do the talking. But to his distress, Reki gave him one last push and ran back to where the pair had been sitting. Langa looked back with a face that could only be described as “fuck you, seriously go fuck yourself.” As as he turned back around, he was met with your big eyes and a look of curiosity

He took a deep breath, taking a second to compose himself, and he took a stab at introducing himself

“Uh..hi” he mentally kicked himself, obviously that wasn’t going to do anything?? He was pleasantly surprised when you gave him a smile and a small “hello” in return. This was enough for him to regain his confidence, making another attempt at conversation

“Ok so..I saw you standing here and, uh, I was wondering if you were alright. You just seemed kind of lost.” He gave you a soft smile, giving his shoulders a little shrug as if to say well there you have it. “I’m Langa, by the way.” You looked up at him as he spoke, and Jesus, he could feel himself staring at you again. There was no denying you were incredibly attractive, and from up close it was just amplified. He was brought back to reality when you laughed, and his face lit up when he realised you were going to actually talk to him.

“Well, thank you for your concern, I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do with myself honestly.” You let out a quiet sign, giving him a soft smile before continuing. “It’s my first time here, and my other friends have been here before, they’ve gone over to their friends, and I didn’t really want to interrupt. I still dont exactly know how to ride this thing yet either,” you motioned to the board in your hand, “so you can imagine my predicament.” Langa looked down at you with a smile, quietly laughing before attempting to talk

“Well, if you want, I can give you a few pointers.” You gave him a look of concern, waving your hands around. “Oh no, its fine, you’re with your friend, I wouldn’t want to butt in-“ your rambling was cut short when he grabbed your hand, and you felt your face heat up.

“You’re not interrupting anything. Let me just grab my board and we can start.” He brought you over to Reki, who was acting completely oblivious to what had been going on, even though he was the evil bastard who set the two of you up. He looked up with a smile, handing Langa his board and offering you some food with a wink in both of your directions. He chuckled as he watched Langa lead you away, getting up and grabbing his board, deciding that while your friends were there he might as well attempt to impress them.

“Keep yourself a bit more balanced.” Langa instructed you from atop your board “you wont fall off as much then.” You were glowing from embarrassment, feeling like all eyes were on you as you failed to stand on the board without shaking. You mumbled about how it was easier said than done, sighing as you got off the board again. Langa nudged you to stand onto it again, this time his hands wandered to your waist. If you weren’t crimson before, you were now. Langa quickly realised how suggestive this looked, looking up at you with a panicked expression

“Uh-Not like that! I just..to keep the board still!” He was now redder than you, if that was somehow possible. In an attempt to stabilise yourself, you put your hands over his on your waist, which you soon realised only worsened the situation. You were both a stumbling, red mess within seconds. Reki watched from the sidelines, amused by your ministrations.

After a while, you started to get used to the board, but even after you got comfortable Langa’s arms never left your waist. You had been practicing with him for well over an hour now, and your friends were ready to leave. With giggles and nudges they made their way over to the pair of you, before shouting your name and scaring the shit out of the two of you.

As you got off your board and got ready to leave, Langa grabbed your hand. Your face flushing red once more, you turned to him questionably

“Um.. I had a lot of fun today, would you maybe want to do it again sometime?” Your friends jumped up and down behind you as the pair of you exchanged numbers and a quick hug. Blushing as you linked arms with your friend, you gave Langa one last smile before leaving the park

Maybe you were glad your friends dragged you here today after all

#sk8 the infinity x reader #sk∞#sk8 the infinity #reki kyan #reki kyan x reader #reki x reader #sk8 reki #reki kyan headcanons #langa hasegawa x reader #Langa x reader #sk8 langa #langa hasegawa #langa hasegawa headcanons #reki headcanons #langa headcanons #skate the infinity

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weebswrites · 4 years

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Hello! I was thinking for the main 7 bois + the un-dateables with An artist mc that likes to draw,paint, ect and always has some form of colourful smudge all over their face or paint splatter on their hands/ hair /anywhere??? ( bonus points if mc cant help themselves and paint on everything!!)

The Demon Bros & Undatables w/an Artist MC

Lucifer

• At first he was ?? just clean it off ?? or be neater ??

• But once he watched you work one afternoon he understood

• And also realized how cute it was

• The paint and smudges on your arms (and hair? He had no idea how you’d managed to get paint in your hair, but after watching he understood heh) was just as much part of the artwork as the actual piece itself

• The more he sees you with little (or big) paint smudges on your face and arms, the more he loves it

Mammon

• “MC! Ya got paint on yerself!”

• You explain that you know and that you liked it there. It makes you feel artsy

• He doesn't completely understand, but he’s not about to judge you for it

• Walks into your room to hand out and sees you with green and blue paint all over your arms, and watches you intently (while asking many questions) to see just how you manage to always end up covered in whatever medium you were using

Leviathan

• He sometimes makes art of his favorite fandoms (except Ruri-chan. Because she belongs to him <3) to sell, so he understands how much of a messy process it can be

• But he switched to drawing on a tablet hundreds of years ago, so he forgets the extent to which you can get dirty

• You stop by one afternoon to watch anime and have a strand of green paint through your hair

• He blushes and giggles a bit at the sight, and compliments you on your new hair

• You laugh with him and make a mental note to shower before bed

Satan

• He draws sometimes so he’s used to the smudges, but is shocked that you manage to get paint on essentially every surface of your body

• Makes fun of you for it, but you know he secretly thinks it’s cute

• Sometimes you two draw together, and you absolutely take your paintbrush and paint a green stripe down his arm >:)

• At first he’s upset, but he can never stay mad at you for longer than a second, so he wipes it off across your cheek

• Cute paint fight

Asmodeus

• “That can’t be good for your skin!”

• Whenever you head over and are covered in your art (so every time) he draws you a bath and gives you his most hydrating and moisturizing body wash he has

• Sits beside you (or in the tub with you, whatever you’re comfortable with) and lectures you on how bad acrylic paint is for your skin

• You try to tell him it’s fine and that it’s never affected you before, but he will not hear it

• You appreciate his care for your skin and wellbeing and gladly let him pamper you

Beelzebub

• Doesn’t notice at first, but one day when he sees you with a large orange mark on your jeans, he notices

• Asks what happened, and you explain that you were painting a piece you’d finally finished sketching and accidentally gotten the paint on your pants

• Asks to watch you draw sometime (he’s interested because you’re interested)

• Likes to pick at the paint on your arms while you’re working, weirdly satisfied by the way it comes off in little flakes

• You notice this and start getting more paint on your arms so that he can pick it off later

Belphegor

• Notices when he’s falling asleep with his face in your hair and gets a big whiff of paint

• “Uh, MC, there’s paint in your hair”

• “Oh yeah, I know. It’s dried now so it won’t stain anything”

• He doesn’t mind any potential stains, really just misses the smell of your hair as he falls asleep

• You make sure to tie your hair back so his naps are as enjoyable as possible

Diavolo

• He’s always very neat and orderly, so when you show up in messy ripped jeans and a loose tee-shirt, he’s surprised

• “MC, you’re covered in paint!” he notices, but definitely thinks it’s cute

• “Yeah, I guess I am” you laugh, looking down at yourself, “I just finished a piece and it had a ~ton~ of colors involved”

• He thinks it’s cute and asks you for a piece just for him

• Definitely not to hang in his office, to look at when he misses you

• Buys you a smock to wear while you paint, but you wear it more as a cardigan (and spray his cologne on it)

Barbatos

• He likes abstract paintings and even creates them in his (limited) free time

• So when you show up covered in an array of paints, he loves that this is something you can share

• You buy each other sketchbooks and fill them with little drawings/paintings of things that make you think of each other

• It’s very cute and he frames his favorites from you, hanging them around his room to look at

• Brags to his friends (mainly Diavolo) about how talented you are

Simeon

• Loves art !

• He’s never created it, but he loves the liberal arts, so he loves that you create such beautiful art

• Loves to watch you sketch (specifically the way you could create such intricate drawings from a blank page) and paint (the way you could take three colors and create a masterpiece, blending the colors to create a new rainbow)

• He encourages you to enter your work in competitions, and you end up making quite a name for yourself

• Supportive :’)

Solomon

• Only experience with art was the few art classes he took in the human world

• Upon finding out that you’re an artist (you insist it’s just a hobby, but he knows that your talent is undeniable)

• Thinks the way you’re always covered in paint and smudges is adorable, and likes to tease you about it

• You want to paint all over his hair since it’s white like your canvases, but you settle for drawing silhouettes of him to design his hair in many ways

• You ~almost~ get him to dye his hair like one of your designs, but he has too many formal events to go to for his work

Luke

• “MC! I didn’t know you were into painting!”

• You show him some of your work, and his eyes light up like a puppy (I had to hjgdks)

• “You’re amazing!” he compliments you, and usually doesn’t pay mind to the paint all over your clothes and skin

• You two definitely have a lil paint war as well, and he gets Very competitive about it

--------------------

A/N: Hi!! I loved this prompt heh, a casual little hc was exactly what I needed :) I love your requests and am currently working through my asks, so I’ll get to the rest of them soon (hopefully lol, school is stressful)

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chaoticpuff17 · 3 years

Text

Kismet

ADG Jimin

masterlist

hello my darlings! here’s an update to tide you over till I get back! Hope you all enjoy, this has been a fun one to write.--- chaotic puff

Jimin stared out the window of his city apartment. He’d had a long day. One of his girls had gotten out of line and had to be dealt with. He never enjoyed having to dispose of the girls, but there were rules that had to be followed. This one just didn’t seem to understand that. She’d been a recent edition to his higher class girls, and she’d let that go to her head, especially as there was still a vacuum left behind from Sen’s resignation. Stupid girl thought that she could be Suga’s new go to, possibly even Hoseok’s.

The chic didn’t seem to have the brains needed to listen and comprehend the news that Suga had a wife or that fact that Hoseok had a fiancee, and she’d acted on the idiot idea that she could be a mistress to one of the big bosses. The disrespect of approaching one of the big bosses, unasked, just couldn’t be tolerated especially when they took offense. Yoongi might not have admitted to himself that he was in love with his wife, but he was a faithful man and the mere assumption that he would take a mistress was insulting. Suga was not a man you wanted to insult.

“Jimin?” a soft voice called out before a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and resting her cheek against his back. “Are you okay, babe?”

He sighed forcing himself to relax into her arms. It was okay. Everything was okay when he was with her. “I’m fine, kitten. Just a little stressed.” he promised, lifting one of her hands to place a kiss on her palm. He pulled her hand back, turning it to admire the large ring that sat proudly upon her left hand.

“Come back to bed.” she purred, as Jimin pulled her in front of him. “I can do that thing you like.” she offered with a playful grin.

He leaned down with a grin of his own, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose which made her face scrunch up in that adorable way he loved. “Let’s go back to bed.” he agreed, abruptly swooping her up into his arms earning himself a startled but delighted squeak.

“Jimin!”

“You know I love you right?” he asked as he set her down on their bed, hovering over her, assuring himself that she was still here with him, that she was his.

“Of course I do.” she gently brought her hands up to cup his cheeks. “I love you too.” the words flowed out as if they were the most natural thing in the world, and he could only hope it stayed that way.

“What’s going on, Jimin?” she asked, staring up at him in worry. “You’ve been out of it today. Is everything okay at the office?”

Seori didn’t know about his work. She didn’t know about his life outside of the carefully constructed narrative he’d fed to her since they’d first met. With any luck she wouldn’t have to know, not for a long long time, hopefully after they were married and maybe even after they had kids… definitely after they had kids, but that was a fairly long way off still. He’d only just put a ring on her finger. He couldn't risk anything going wrong. She was so good, too good and nothing like the women he worked with on a daily basis. He knew that if she found out who he really was, what his job entailed, she would leave him, so he needed to make sure that never happened.

“Everything’s fine, kitten.” he assured, resting his forehead against hers, his lips just barely brushing against hers. Her fingers gently carded through his hair, just the way he liked. “Just a long day.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay? I don’t know what I would do without you.” she hummed, lightly brushing the tip of her nose against him.

“I promise.” he grinned, leaning down to start trailing kisses up her neck, lightly brushing away the gossamer fabric of her skimpy robe. “Now what was that about you doing that thing I like?”

----

The first time Jimin had seen Son Seori had been at a gallery event that Taehyung had dragged him to. There were plenty of beautiful women there, and Jimin dealt with beautiful women on a daily basis, but Seori had a softer look than he was used to and a far more professional one.

She held her head high with the self assurance of a woman who knew she belonged, a woman who knew what she was doing. It wasn’t the same confidence he saw in her girls. This had nothing to do with sex appeal. She knew she was beautiful. That was clear in the way the dress hugged her figure and the way she moved. It had nothing to do with that though. It had everything to do with being in her element. Here among the paintings and the artists, she was completely at ease. She was a goddess among men, and it confused him how no one else seemed to notice that.

No one was looking at her. No one was falling at her feet. How didn’t they notice the way the flyaway strands of hair fell from her updo to lay enticingly on her neck? How did they miss the elegant tilt of her head as she stared at a painting. How could they all be so incredibly dense? Could they not see that this was a woman made to be worshiped? But that was all the better for him. If they wouldn’t take notice of such an angel, he would.

Jimin made his way to her side, two glasses of the proffered pomegranate spritz in hand.

“Drink?” he offered with a charming smile, bringing her attention to him, bringing those dark, fathomless eyes to focus on him.

“Thank you.” and then she smiled, and the whole world stood still.

After that they began to see each other more often. Jimin would send flowers to the gallery where she worked. She was the curator, and he couldn’t have been more proud. He took her to coffee, to art exhibitions, to fancy dinners, carefully wooing her until he was able to call her his.

The day she agreed to move in with him was one of the happiest of his life, but there was always a nagging worry at the back of his mind. What if she found out? What if she left him? To prevent one, he had to prevent the other, and so he weaved a carefully constructed web of lies to keep her by his side.

To her he was a businessman, a very successful businessman. She knew nothing about the girls or the drugs, nothing about the underbelly of society, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. They were happy within his web of lies. They were safe, and he didn’t want to think of what would happen when that blissful ignorance was no longer there.

----

“Jimin?” Seori called, entering the apartment looking for her fiance after having a lovely coffee date with a friend and talking over the upcoming showcase at the gallery. “Jimin, are you home?”

“In here, babe!” Jimin called from the direction of the bedroom, and Seori started to make her way there, only to stop as Jimin’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.

“Babe, your phone is ringing.” There wasn’t an answer from him, so she made her way to the phone and answered, not even noticing that it was his work phone, a phone she wasn’t supposed to touch let alone answer. “Hello?” She’d barely gotten the work out before the person on the other line started talking in a rush.

“Jimin!” the voice on the other side of the line barked. “I need you to get here ASAP. Aerie decided to be a little feisty today, and she stabbed me in the leg. She was trying to get out, the little bitch.” the deep voice on the other end of the line growled freezing Seori in place. “I need you to get your ass over here and help.”

“I’m sorry.” she stuttered. “I think you have the wrong number.”

The phone was ripped from her grasp as an arm wrapped around her waist. “Tae?” Jimin asked, listening with a stony expression she was not used to as the man on the other end of the line spoke. “I’ll be there soon.” he sighed, tightening his grip around her slightly. “Call Jin to help with the bleeding.”

“Jimin.” her voice was barely above a horrified whisper as he hung up the phone. “Jimin, what’s going on? Who was that?”

“Baby, you know you’re not supposed to answer my work phone.” He turned her around, gently cupping her face as he shushed her, softly scolding her. “It’s alright. It’s just a colleague. It’s fine.” His words did nothing to make her feel better.

“What did he mean stabbed? Is he keeping a woman hostage? What the hell, Jimin?” Jimin didn’t like the way she was looking at him. She’d never looked at him like that before. She’d never been afraid of him before, and seeing her beautiful eyes looking at him with so much fear cut him like a knife.

“It’s okay, baby.” he promised, desperately trying to find a way out of this situation. She wasn’t supposed to answer his phone. She wasn’t supposed to know yet. “I promise it’s okay. I have to take care of this, but I’ll be home soon, and we can talk about this, okay?”

She brushed his hands away, stepping back. “What the hell are you involved in, Jimin?”

“Baby… baby, please.” he reached for her, but she flinched back. “Just… just stay here. I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back, okay?”

“No.” she shook her head. “You explain now. What the fuck are you involved in?” Her voice rose, and Jimin winced. It was rare that she raised her voice let alone cursed.

“Baby…”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” she crossed her arms under her chest, leveling him with a hard stare. “What is going on?”

“Seori-ah…” he took a step forward reaching for her, but she stepped back, her jaw clenched in a way that told him that she was furious. “Just let me explain…”

“Fine.” she huffed. “Talk.”

“It’s my job, baby. I shouldn’t have lied to you, and I’m sorry for that, but I didn’t want to put you in danger.”

“Danger? You work at an office…” she blinked slowly before cursing under her breath. “You don’t work at an office.” he shook his head guiltily. “Organized crime?”

“It’s not as bad as you think, baby.”

“And just how bad is it, baby?” The endearment was colored with a curt sort of sarcasm that didn’t sit well with him, but she had every right to be upset at the moment. He was prepared for her to be upset, but he had planned for her to find out when they were in a controlled environment, and not when he needed to go take care of a problem at work. This was not how he wanted her finding out.

He sighed, running a hand through the dyed blond strand of his hair. Typically she would have stepped forward to smooth down the now mussed hair, but she made no such move. “Have you heard of BTS?”

“No…” the word was barely breathed out as she made the connection. “Tell me you’re… you’re not?” she hissed, fighting back tears. Of all the groups he could have been affiliated with, BTS was the worst of them.

“Baby…” he stepped forward again, but she wasn’t having it.

“Jimin…” she whispered horrified, backing up even further until she was pressed against the counter. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jimin. I’m your Jimin.” he urged, matching the distance between them to press a kiss to her forehead despite the way she flinched away from him. “Just stay here. I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back, just stay here.”

“You lied to me.”

“I know.”

“You said you loved me.”

“I do.” he was fervent, nearly desperate as he held her shoulders. “I have always loved you.��

“Just go.” she whispered, pushing him away.”

He hated to leave her, especially like this, but his brother needed him. For now he would have to trust that she trusted him enough to stay and hear him out. Apparently, she did not.

---

Seori was reeling. In a matter of minutes her entire life had been turned upside down. Her fiance wasn’t who he said he was, and nothing made sense anymore. He was a criminal. He admitted to being a criminal despite knowing her feelings on organized crime.

He knew that her father had been collateral damage in a mob hit when she was a teen. Her oldest brother had been killed in the line of duty. He’d been a cop. Her other brother was a cop working in the organized crime unit, working to bring down the same people who’d ripped their family apart. Jimin knew all of this, and he never said a thing. He just continued to lie to her, to string her along, and she believed every lie he’d fed to her like an idiot.

She should have known. There had been signs. Two and a half years they’d been together, of course there were signs, but she’d ignored them all. She ignored late nights, the vague descriptions of his work. She’d ignored the less than plausible explanation for the cut to his forehead just last year. He’d even gone on a surprise business trip right after. She knew something wasn’t right, and yet she’d ignored it all, because she loved him. She loved him, and she trusted that he wouldn’t lie to her. It was naïve. Worse, it was stupid, and she should have known better.

It didn’t take her long to pack up the essentials, things she didn’t want to leave behind: a pressed flower from the first bouquet Jimin ever brought her, the exhibit list from their first date, things she couldn’t bear to part with despite what she knew, and then she was left staring at an apartment wondering if she was making the right decision.

He’d asked her to stay. He’d begged her, but she couldn’t. Knowing what she knew, she couldn’t stay. What was she supposed to tell her family if she stayed? How would she explain to her mother, to her brother how she was involved with Jimin? Or was she supposed to lie to them for the rest of her life too? No. She couldn’t do that. She loved Jimin, but she didn’t trust him anymore. She couldn’t stay.

She left the apartment leaving behind a note and her engagement ring, and she could only pray that Jimin would understand. He probably wouldn’t. She knew that. Jimin loved with every fiber of his being, and this would wreck him. She had to do what would be best for her though, and that wasn’t Jimin anymore.

Seori called a cab and made her way home to her mother’s house. It was the only place she could go. Her mother wouldn’t ask questions. She’d make her a bowl of soup, and tell her she looked too thin, and she’d leave her to grieve. If there was one thing her mother understood, it was grief.

“Eomma?” Her mother opened the door, ever cautious after the loss of her husband and oldest child.

“Seori-ah.” her mother opened the door all the way, opening her arms already knowing something was wrong. Seori dived into her mother’s arms, abandoning her luggage as she sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, my girl?”

“Jimin and I broke up.” she whimpered as her mother stroked her hair.

“Come.” her mother ordered, ushering her into the house. “I’ll make tea.”

There was something so odd and yet incredibly comforting about being home again. She was back in her old room. She was helping her mother cook, she was getting picked on by her brother, and much like always, no one was talking about the problem. Neither of them pried into why she was home instead of with Jimin. Granted, neither of them knew Jimin well so they didn’t have a high opinion of him, especially since he managed to convince her to move in with him.

She could count the number of times Jimin had met her family on one hand and still have fingers left over. It made sense now. Why would a mobster in one of the most feared gangs in all of Asia want to spend time with a cop, especially one worked in the organized crime division? It begged the question of why he had even pursued her to begin with. Was she a pawn to keep an eye on her brother? Was he just that stupid that he would date a cop’s sister? Had he actually loved her? None of it made sense, and she didn’t think it ever would.

She’d turned off her phone when she’d gone home. She was sure that Jimin had tried to call, but she didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. She didn’t want to be swayed by whatever apologies he offered.She’d even gone so far as to take time off work in case he went looking for her at the gallery. Despite knowing what she knew now, she still loved him. She loved him, but she couldn't be with him.

“Hey, sis?” her brother popped his head into her room. “I’m ordering chicken and beer. You want some?”

“Sure.” she unfolded herself from her seat and followed him out. What better way to forget her sorrows than to get drunk and eat chicken with her brother?

---

It had been an awful day, an awful day made worse by Hobi’s girl escaping and then Y/N going into labor. He couldn’t do anything about the labor, and Iyla was back where she belonged, but all of that on top of Tae’s stabbing had made for a long, long day, one he couldn’t afford. He had Seori waiting at home for him, confused and angry, and he needed to be with her. He needed to explain what was going on.

He was tired and grumpy and already so much later returning home than he wanted to be, but he didn’t want to return to her empty handed, not after the mess he’d left behind. He got home with flowers in hand, ready to see his fiancee, but the house was dark and quiet.

“Seori?” he called while taking off his shoes. “Baby?” he called again, walking further into the apartment. “Baby, I know you’re mad, but I can explain.” Still there was nothing. “Baby?”

A flash of something sparkling in the dim light caught his attention, bringing him to the kitchen counter. Sitting there was a piece of paper and the engagement ring he’d slipped onto her finger just last week. A cold, horrible feeling swept through him. It couldn’t be.

In a panic, Jimin ran through the apartment looking for her. The bed was made with no sign that she’d slept there. A good portion of her clothes were missing from the closet. Her luggage was gone, and yet he still held out hope that she was just hiding somewhere, that this was all a horrible misunderstanding.

She wouldn’t leave him. She’d promised to stay. She’d promised to hear him out, and she loved him. She loved him just as much as he loved her. Of that he was certain. She was just confused and frightened. That was alright. He could fix that. He just had to find her first.

“Seori!” he called out desperately, gripping his hair in frustration. “Seori, please!”

But there was no response. The apartment reamined horribly silent and still. He finally had to admit that she was gone. He was quick to run back to the kitchen, back to the ring and the note. He was desperate as he scanned over her words, and it was definitely her words. That was her handwriting. The quick, cute strokes of the letters were something he knew well from the notes and letters they’d exchanged throughout the years. Despite knowing that though, he still found it hard to believe that this was from her. The words on that page told him that she’d left him, and that she wasn’t coming back, and he just couldn’t believe that.

He tried calling her, over and over again, but each time, her phone gave him the same automated message stating that the number he was trying to reach was unavailable. She was gone, and he couldn’t even call her. He couldn’t make sure she was okay.

Without thinking, Jimin picked up a vase resting on the counter and flung it across the room, watching it shatter against the far wall. It was the beginning of a long rampage. Every picture of them was left broken. The flowers he’d brought home for her lay in a wilted trampled heap on the ground. The clothes of hers that remained in their closet were ripped and scattered across the bedroom floor. By the time that Jimin had worked through his tantrum not one corner of the apartment was left untouched by his rage.

He sat on the floor, feet bleeding from the broken glass that seemed to litter the entire apartment in varying amounts. The only thing left untouched was the ring, her ring. It sat forlornly in Jimin’s hands as he stared at it. He’d had it specially made for her. He couldn’t give just any ring to someone as divine as Seori. He’d been sure to design a ring that was as lovely as she was and unique enough to speak to her artistic soul. It had turned out to be the perfect ring for her, and he’d been so incredibly proud to be able to place it on her finger. It had been blissful, but it was equally heart rending to see it now cold and abandoned just like he was. And yet it had the audacity to sparkle in the dim light when he felt like all the light had been sucked from the world.

He wanted to throw it across the room, to let it join the rest of the mess. He wanted to destroy it, but he couldn’t. This was Seori’s ring, and it would sit on her finger again. Seori would be with him again. Eventually, Jimin picked himself up from the floor and began to clean the mess he’d created. He didn’t want Seori to come back to such a mess. She always kept their home so nice. He didn’t want her to see this. She’d come home again. She had to.

Jimin tried to reach her for days. He went to the gallery. He called. He even tried to send her emails, but there was no sign of her. He hoped, for the first few days, that she would return home, that she’d only gone to cool off, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t return, not to work and not to their home.

He knew she had probably gone to her mother’s house, but he couldn’t follow her there. Her family wasn’t particularly welcoming to him. The loss of both the father and eldest son had hardened them, and Chansol, her brother, was naturally wary due to his work. They didn’t know him or like him well enough to allow him access to her, and breaking into a cop’s house was exactly the kind of trouble that he’d promised Namjoon he wouldn’t get into when he’d first started dating Seori. He’d promised not to do anything that would endanger himself or BTS.

He’d been practically feral the first week without her. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t work. And all the time he held out hope that she’d come back to him of her own will, but she didn’t, and it rekindled his rage. Although now it found a new outlet.

It was all Taehyung’s fault. If Taehyung hadn’t called, if he had been able to control his woman, none of this would have happened. Seori would be safe at home with him and none the wiser about what he did for a living. It was all his fault, and Jimin was sure to let him know.

“Jimin!” Tae yelped as the shorter man slammed him against the wall. “What are you doing?”

“It’s your fault!” he screamed practically vibrating with rage. “It’s your fault she’s gone!”

“What are you talking about?” Tae hissed, wincing as he began to feel the bump that had formed on the back of his head only to groan in pain as Jimin’s fist connected to his face. “That the hell, Park?”

“If you could keep your bitch under control, none of this would have happened.”

“Is this about Seori?” Tae’s lips pulled down in a frown as the pieces fell into place. “Jimin, I had nothing to do with her leav…”

“If you hadn’t called…” Jimin hissed, eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you hadn’t called, she’d still be home with me.”

Taehyung sighed, pushing Jimin away from him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, but it’s not my fault she left. You should have locked her down a long time ago.”

“She wasn’t going to run. She loves me.” his fists remained clenched by his side as he glared at his friend.

“She was going to find out eventually. You knew she wasn’t going to like this.”

“I was supposed to have time!” Jimin snapped, rage bubbling up again as he tugged on his hair, pacing back and forth. “I was supposed to have time.” he repeated, voice softer this time.

“What’s going on?” Tae asked, approaching him cautiously.

Jimin flopped down into a chair with a groan. “I can’t reach her. Her phone is shut off. She hasn’t come home. She’s not going to work. I don’t know what to do.”

Tae sighed sitting down next to him. “We’ll find her. She can’t have gone far. Her whole family is in Seoul.”

“Her family doesn’t like me.”

Taehyung snorted. “They don’t have to. Look at Iyla and Y/N. I don’t think either of them like Namjoon or Hoseok.” Jimin agreed with a half-hearted chuckle. “I can try to track her for you.” Tae offered, rubbing the back of his neck guilty. “If she’s smart she’s probably changed phones by now.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course I would.” Tae grinned, the thought of a challenge lighting up his eyes with fiendish delight. “Anything for family.”

And so Jimin had to start planning. He wasn’t about to let her go. They were meant for each other, and he knew that she knew it too. She just needed a little push to come to the right decision. Seori was his angel, but he was willing to drag her down to hell if it meant keeping her by his side, and she would be by his side again.

It took Taehyung no time at all to track her down, and even less time to be able to mirror her phone to his. Bugging her new apartment took a little more time and planning. They had to wait until she wasn’t home, and everything needed to be placed so that she wouldn’t notice it. But it was more than a relief for him when he could finally see her again. Yes, it was through a computer screen or his phone, but she was there. She was safe, and it would have to do until he could bring her home.

Taehyung had been right. He should have brought her to their permanent home ages ago. She would have been safer there. She never would have had the opportunity to leave him, but he’d rectify that mistake this time around. She was just frightened. Everything would be better once she was home. First he had to make sure their house was ready for her though.

He didn’t spend any time at the house at the estate. Each of them had a house there. Namjoon’s was the largest as it was the main building. He made sure each of them had their own home within the safety of the compound, little annexes for everyone, but it was rare for them to inhabit those homes before they established a family for themselves. Recently, most of those houses had gained permanent inhabitants. His would too, and he was sure Seori was going to love it.

He plastered the walls in art. He made sure that their garden was in perfect order. He even made sure she had a room to paint in. It had the best light of any room in the house and overlooked the garden beautifully. It had been a long time since Seori had had time to focus on her own artwork, but that wouldn’t be a problem once she was home. She wouldn’t need to work anymore.

In time, everything was ready for her to come home. There was just one last problem that Jimin had to take care of, that pesky brother of hers.

Chansol was always an annoyance in their relationship, and Jimin couldn’t simply whisk his love away when Chansol would cause a fuss within the police department if she went missing. Namjoon wouldn’t allow such a fuss. It was too dangerous for the family, but Jimin had a plan that would suit everyone. He just needed to put it into action.

Chansol wasn’t a hard man to track down, especially not with Jimin’s connections. It wasn’t even hard to get him alone. For a minute Jimin wondered how he’d even become a cop with what seemed like next to no observational skills or sense of self preservation. How could he not notice himself being herded into a trap? And was he really stupid enough to take an anonymous meeting with no backup? It was stupid on Chansol’s part, but it made Jimin’s all the easier.

“Chansol!” he cheered striding into the warehouse as though it were a five star restaurant. “It’s good to see you again.” A cheshire grin spread across his features as he watched the grimace flash across his brother-in-law’s face. Chansol reached for his gun, and Jimin sighed tiredly. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It would make my hyung very upset.” almost immediately a red dot flashed across Chansol’s chest, stilling his movements. Yoongi was an excellent shot, and more than willing to help him. Chansol would be dead in less than a minute if he so much as made the wrong move.

“What do you want, Park?”

“I would have thought that was obvious.” he rolled his eyes, already tired of speaking with the other man. He’d never liked Seori’s brother.

“All this for my sister?” Chansol scoffed, sending Jimin a glare. “I have better things to do with my time than play your games.”

“I think you know who I am by now. Do you really want to insult me?” There was no movement from the cop, just the continued withering glare. “No? Then I suggest you watch your tone. I don’t need you alive, but it would make this all so much simpler.”

“What do you want?” he growled, bristling at the threat.

“Nothing that isn’t already mine.” he shrugged, beginning to leisurely circle the other man. “The real question is what I can do for you.”

“What do you mean, Park?”

“I have some information I think you would be interested in.”

“And why would I take anything from you?” he spat glaring at the other man despite the fact the sniper’s laser was still firmly fixated on his chest.

“Because you want to know who killed your father and brother.” Jimin watched with satisfaction as her brother stiffened, eyes going wide with shock, and a spark of yearning entering his expression as well. “How long have you been searching for answers? I can give those two you. You just have to do one little thing for me.”

“What do you want?”

“Your cooperation.”

“I’m a police officer, Park. I’m not going to cooperate with you. So you can leave me and my family alone, and go to hell.”

Jimin cocked his head to one side. “Don’t you want to avenge your father? Your elder brother? I can give you the bastards who killed them on a silver plate. I just need a little cooperation from you, but I guess you aren’t such a good son after all.” he mused nonchalantly, even though he was watching the other man’s every movement and expression like a hawk. “What would your poor mother say?”

That did the trick. Jimin could see immediately when something seemed to snap in Chansol. He was a dutiful son. His entire career was focused on bringing down the people who had killed his father and brother, taking care of his mother. He’d done everything for them, and he couldn’t allow an opportunity to avenge them to slip through his fingers.

“What do you want from me?”

Jimin smiled in triumph. “BTS wants a man on the inside.”

“I can’t…”

“Of course you can.” he scoffed, elegantly waving him off. “You’re a subpar cop at best. You’ll be able to do much more for your family working for us than you would bumbling around on your own.”

“Fine.” Chansol agreed through, gritted teeth.

“And I want your sister back.” It didn’t escape his notice how Chansol seemed to recoil from this.

“Seori is…”

“She’s already mine. There’s been a slight misunderstanding though.”

“I can’t…”

“Your sister and your cooperation, or no deal. If I walk out of here without your agreement. I will personally make sure you never find who killed your family.”

“Fine.” Chansol agreed, determination hardening his features. “Take her. Just give me the bastards who killed my father and Chanho.”

---

The first few weeks had been painful. She cried. She drank beer and ate chicken with her brother. She helped her mother cook, and she tried to forget Jimin. It was a task easier said than done. Two and a half years together could not be forgotten in a matter of weeks. He could not be forgotten in a matter of weeks, but Seori couldn’t hide at her mother’s forever. She had work, and she needed to get back to the real world, to rebuild her life.

She got a new phone and changed her number so that Jimin couldn’t contact her. She found a little apartment not too far from the gallery, and she went back to work. She’d even gotten a cat to keep her company. After so long with Jimin, it was odd to be alone. Leo, named for Leonardo Da Vinci, helped with that. He was a surprisingly affectionate feline, almost clingy, but she loved him. He filled a spot in her life that had been left empty after Jimin, and she needed that. Eventually she fell into a routine- go to work, come home, feed the cat. It was all so quiet and surprisingly normal.

Her coworkers told her that Jimin had dropped by nearly every day while she was gone, but he hadn’t been by in a while. It gave her hope that maybe he’d gotten the hint and was going to leave her alone. She missed him, but it was better this way.

She was almost done for the day, packing up her things when her brother walked through the door of the gallery.

“Chansol?” she called looking up from her bag. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d walk you home.” he told her with a smile, though something seemed off about it. Chansol had never walked her home before.

“You don’t have to do that. Besides, aren't’ you supposed to be working?” her brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not allowed to walk my little sister home and ask how her day has been?”

“You never have before.”

He shrugged, still looking unusually nervous. “I actually had somewhere I wanted to take you before I took you home.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically as she slipped on her coat, pulling her out from under the collar. He never took her anywhere except for chicken and beer. It was about the only thing they did together. She loved her brother, but she didn’t have a lot in common with him, not like he and Chanho had. “Alright then.” she agreed if not a little reluctantly.

She allowed her brother to lead her out of the gallery. She wasn’t sure what he wanted to show her, but she trusted him, that is until he led her to an alley.

“What’s going on?” She asked, looking at the dead end with suspicion.

“I’m sorry, Seori. I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” She really didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’m sorry.”

“Chansol?”

“Noona!” a new voice called as a tall very buff man with a bunny smile appeared at the entrance to the alleyway. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Hyung has been keeping you all to himself.” he pouted, and it only added to her confusion.

“Chansol?”

“I’m really sorry.”

The strange man took her arm firmly only heightening her unease. “Don’t worry. Hyung will take really good care of her.” “Chansol, what did you do?” she screamed as the man took hold of her other arm, effectively holding her in place as she struggled against him.

“I’m sorry. I had to. You have to understand that I had to.” he pleaded, taking a step towards her, but stopping at the dark look the gang member shot him.

“What did you do?”

“It’s okay, noona.” the man assured her, dragging her back out of the alley. “Hyung is really excited to see you again.” he turned his gaze on her brother, his tone a little less friendly. “You’ll be hearing from us.”

“Chansol!” she cried as she was shoved into the back of a waiting SUV, the door locking firmly behind her. “Chansol!” She screamed, banging on the window.

“It’s okay, noona.” the man cooed as he hopped into the driver’s seat. “It’s going to be alright.”

“I’m not your noona.” she hissed, yanking on the door handle even though it did nothing.

“Of course you are.” he smiled, turning his eyes to the road. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Fuck off!” she growled still yanking at the door.

“That’s not very nice.” he frowned. “You should put on your seatbelt. Hyung would be really upset if you got hurt.”

The drive continued much like that. Jungkook tried to make conversation and told her to put her seatbelt on, and she tried to escape the car, a task that proved to be impossible. By the time they arrived at their destination she was exhausted, and she looked a mess, but her captor seemed just as cheery as when they started.

“Alright, noona!” he cheered, opening her door and easily catching her as she tried to dart past him. “Time to go see hyung.”

“Let go of me!” she shrieked, fighting against him to no avail as he dragged her into the building.

“Mr. Jeon.” A woman dressed in a low cut red dress greeted with a sultry smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to see the boss.”

She pouted. “You’re not here to see me? I could make you feel real good.”

“No.” he scoffed, keeping a firm hold on a squirming Seori. “I have a delivery for him.”

The woman looked her up and down with distaste. “She can’t go see him dressed like that. She looks like a prude.”

A mischievous smile spread across his lips. “Fix her up then.”

A similar smile spread across the woman’s face. “You got it JK.”

Seori was dragged away and unceremoniously stripped of her coat by a gaggle of scantily clad women.

“Jas….” one of them whined, looking at her outfit. “She’s all covered up. You can’t send her up looking like a nun.”

It was the second time they’d insulted her outfit tonight, and Seori was quite sure there was nothing wrong with her professional outfit: tights, heels, and a dress with sleeves that stopped just above her elbows and had a turtleneck top. It was stylish yet professional and perfect for the late October weather, but seeing women in nothing but negligees and lingerie gave her a good idea of why they thought she was a nun.

She couldn’t fight them off as they descended on her, quickly peeling off her dresses, shoes, and tights, leaving her in nothing but the plain cotton bra and panties she’d put on that morning. They didn’t even match. They all looked appalled.

“Even her lingerie is hopeless.” one of them sighed dejectedly. “You sure he asked for her?”

“I’m sure.” the one called Jas nodded. “You guys should get back to work. I’ll get her fixed up.”

“Just ‘cause Lola’s gone doesn’t mean you’re the boss.” One of them sassed.

“Lola didn’t work on sight, and she was favored.” Jas snapped back. “If you want to end up like Wendy keep that attitude up.” the girls all paled, quickly scurrying out of the room.

“What...what happened to Wendy?” she whispered, doing her best to keep herself covered as Jas looked for something to put her in.

“She got too big for her britches. The boss had to get rid of her.”

“Get rid of her?” Jas gave her an unimpressed look as if she should know what had happened already, and she had a horrible feeling that she did. “What is this place?”

“What do you think it is?” she asked coming back to her with a set that was nothing more than see through black lace. Seori didn’t answer, just stared at her apprehensively. Jas sighed. “It’s Mr. Park’s main office. He has other houses, but this is the high end one. Only the big wigs come here.”

“Is this a brothel?”

“We prefer other names, but brothel works too.” she shrugged, beginning to strip her of the last remnants of her own clothes. “Put these on.”

“Why?”

“Cause you can’t see the boss dressed like that. You’re a new girl right?” Jas seemed to be getting more exasperated with her by the minute. “Look, honey. The boss has to check out all the new girls. If he likes you, he’ll send you to a nice house. If he doesn’t you’ll go to one of the more low end houses. If you’re really lucky and pay your dues, you might even catch the eye of one of the big bosses. That’s what happened to Lola.”

She thought that maybe Jas meant those words to be comforting, but they only sent a bolt of cold fear through her. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

“A lot of us think that at first, hun. You’ll be fine. And the boss is a good lover so it won’t be so bad.” she patted her arm. “Hurry up and get dressed. You can’t keep the boss waiting.”

Shakily, Seori slipped into the set still feeling incredibly exposed. “Can I… is there anything I can cover up with?”

Jas shot her a sympathetic look. “You’ll just be stripped in a few minutes anyway. Let’s go.”

Jas took her arm in a surprisingly strong grip and led her through the place towards what had to be the boss’ office. “Good luck.” And with that, she was pushed into the room, shivering like a cat left out in the rain.

“Awww, kitten.” an achingly familiar voice cooed, and Seori thought she might throw up. “Did you miss me?”

“Jimin…” she whispered, pressing herself back against the wall.

He got up from his desk, prowling towards her. “I missed you.” he murmured, leaning in to breathe her in. God he’d missed her. “You didn’t come home.”

“We broke up.” she whimpered. Even though every fiber of her being had been conditioned to want to lean into him, she didn’t.

His head tilted to the side. “Silly, kitten. No we didn’t. We just had a fight.” He smiled, reaching up a hand to stroke her hair. “That’s all.”

“I don’t want to be with you.”

His smile changed, taking on a sharper quality. “We both know that’s a lie, kitten.”

“I can’t be with you.”

He pulled away from her with a sigh, and she took the opportunity to slip away from the door, away from him and more towards the middle of the room. “I suppose that that’s your choice, kitten, but you should know all the options before you decide.”

“Don’t call me that.” she snapped, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he started backing her towards his desk.. “You’re mine. I can call you whatever I please.”

“I’m not yours anymore.”

“Unfortunately for you, but very fortunately for me, you do. Ask your brother.”

“Chansol would never…”

“Chansol would do anything to avenge your father and brother.” Jimin scoffed, voice sharp and dangerous. It was a tone he didn’t take with her, and it shut her up almost immediately. “He’d even give up his previous little sister and agree to work with the very people he’s supposed to be putting behind bars.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He would.” Jimin chimed, looking far too pleased with himself. “Now, you have two options, kitten.” he drawled lazily, suddenly relaxed again. “You either come back to me, or you can work as one of my girls.”

“As one of your whores?” she spat, glaring at him as he trapped her against the wood of his desk.

“It’s business.” he shrugged. “And you’re one to talk, kitten. I have videos of you acting like the little slut you are.” he chuckled yanking her head back by the hair. “What do you think would happen if you left me? I could release those videos for the whole world to see. Who do you think would take you after that?” he taunted cruelly. “And what would your poor mother and brother think of you then? I bet Chansol would feel so much less guilty about that little deal we made.”

“You wouldn’t.” her eyes were wide and horrified as she stared at him.

“I would.” He purred leaning down to nip at her neck. “I would do anything to keep you with me.”

“You’re sick.” she whimpered.

“All for you, kitten.” he cooed, suddenly lifting her up onto the desk and stepping between her legs.

“What are you…”

He shushed her, fingers playing with the hem of her panties. “Do you think anyone else would treat you as nicely?” he asked, slipping under the fabric lightly brushing against her core. “Do you think the men out there would care about your pleasure?” he hissed, beginning to play with her clit even though she squirmed to get away from him.

“Stop.” she begged, pushing at his wrist, but Jimin would not be moved.

“They don’t care about you, kitten. No one cares about you like I do.” he pressed a kiss to her collar bone just as he dipped a finger into her core. “So wet for me already.” he grinned against her skin. “Always such a slut for daddy.”

“Stop it.” she sobbed, feeling so helpless and small against him. “Just stop it.”

“It would all be so much easier if you gave in.” he purred, pumping his fingers in and out of her. “Don’t you miss me, kitten? We could go back to the way things were. I would take care of you.”

“No!” she sobbed beating against his chest. “No, you’re a liar. You lied to me.”

“I lied to protect you.” he cooed, already feeling her crumbling against him. His poor kitten, he knew she couldn’t live without him. They were made for each other. “Don’t you want to go back to the way things were?”

“I don’t… please, just stop.”

“No.” he growled, fingering her more aggressively now. “Just give in, kitten.”

“No…” she sobbed, leaning into him helplessly.

“Just give in.” he purred, pulling away from her just as she was about to orgasm. “It’s either a life with me or a life out there.” he brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes as he tilted her chin up to look at him.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can’t lose you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I love you too much to lose you.”

“Please don’t do this… Jimin, please.”

“All you have to do is give in, kitten, and everything will be like it was.” He grinned, watching her tremble. She was so close to breaking, and he knew it. “Just give in.”

“Please….” she begged. “I don’t…”

He shushed her again, pulling her closer as he began to touch her again making her whimper. “I know you were scared. That’s okay. I forgive you. It’ll all be okay. You just have to stay with me. You can do that for daddy, right kitten?”

“I’m sorry.” she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. “I’m sorry, please.”

“Just one word, kitten. Just one word and everything will be like it was.” she was shaking like a leaf, and Jimin couldn't get enough of it. Watching her these past few weeks hadn’t been enough. Touching himself to the thought of her hadn’t been enough. He needed her like he needed to breathe. “You know what to do.” his words were sweet as honey as he brought her right to the edge before pulling away again.

“Yes!” she cried, crying into his shoulder. “Yes, I’m sorry, please don’t… don’t make me.”

“Shhhh, kitten.” he rubbed her back gently. “Daddy, won’t let anything happen to you.”

Jimin pulled away from her moving, taking off his suit jacket and draping it around her frame. He didn’t want anyone else looking at her as he took her home. She was for his eyes only. “Everything will be fine now.” he assured her, taking her ring out of his pocket and slipping it onto her finger, before scooping her up into his arms. “Let’s go home.”

She nodded against his shoulder, trembling like a leaf. “You made the right choice, kitten, but daddy is still going to have to punish you for worrying him so much.” He pressed a kiss to her hair, striding out of the building. “Never leave me again.”

295 notes · View notes

vixenpen · 4 years

Text

youtube

Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)

You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.

“You sure this will work?”

“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”

Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.

Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.

Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.

The audacity!

To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.

Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.

He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.

But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.

At first, you brushed it off.

He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.

Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.

PERIODTTT.

Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.

“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”

“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”

A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.

Katsuki grimaced.

“Whatever kid, c’mon.”

He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”

The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.

Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.

“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”

“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”

“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”

Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.

He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.

A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.

He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.

His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.

As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.

Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!

What the fuck was this shit?

Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.

CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?

Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest

CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!

Y/N: 🤷🏾‍♀️ first time for everything.

Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.

He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.

So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?

Y/N: u entering or what? 👀

CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.

Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾

He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?

Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!

His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.

CMK: how much does it take to win?

Y/N: just whoever has the most.

CMK tipped $150,000

CMK: now take it the fuck down

Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.

CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.

Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.

CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.

True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.

Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.

You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.

Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.

You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.

You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.

If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.

The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.

You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!

“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.

He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.

The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.

Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.

“Oh my god...”

“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.

Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!

“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.

“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.

You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.

He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.

He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.

“You wanna drink, beautiful?”

“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”

He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.

“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”

“F/N,” you replied.

“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”

He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.

“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”

He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.

“Can’t say the same for myself though.”

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.

The attempt earned him a giggle.

“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”

“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.

This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.

Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”

“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”

“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”

“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.

“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”

“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”

A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh

“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”

He scoffed, amused.

“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.

Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.

His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.

“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”

“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”

That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.

You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.

He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.

“Now we match.” He grinned

“You ass—“

“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”

True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.

Your body was trembling from sensory overload.

“God..” you moaned.

“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”

“Eat me.”

#bnha headcanons #black writers #mha headcanons #bnha #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #self insert #bnha smut #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bakugo smut #boku no hero academia #Youtube

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blu-archer · 3 years

Text

Forgive?

Right...

I have these moments in writing when I get hit with a sudden realization that I have no idea what relationships are like, so if you notice anything that doesn’t quite add up... it’s because I’m winging the shit out of this

Standardly, there will probably be errors because its a common occurrence with me and I’m just embracing it at this point

anyway..

Sickie: Tae

Caretaker: like Jhope/Jin/Kook

Cold/Snz based [although I feel like I drifted on things]

AU: Magic and hybrids exist

[mild language]

word count: 4560

Jungkook had to force himself to not snap at Taehyung when the witch had decided to follow him into the kitchen after Jungkook had specifically said he was going there to study in silence. He had to bite his tongue when his thought pattern had been abruptly cut off by Taehyung complaining about how his throat hurt or how tired he was.

If he was tired he could go sleep, and leave Jungkook in peace, but that seemed too much to hope for.

Feeling a warm weight press up against his back as he hunched over his notes, Jungkook let out a low growl. The weight didn’t disappear, then again he hadn’t really expected Tae to abide by his study rules when the elder had woken up in a much similar state as their universal favourite cat hybrid had been in just a few days prior. Jungkook felt awful for him sure, and concerned and empathetic, and a huge part of him wanted to just leave his work and hold the elder until he was content, but he had a paper that needed to be written up within two days that he had completely forgotten about as well as continue studying for his art history exam that was the following week. His jaw ached from how much he had been grinding his teeth and his head pounded with the beginnings of what he hoped wouldn’t lead to a migraine. He just couldn’t focus and Tae’s noise making and constant need for cuddles was distracting him from his work.

“Taehyung.” Jungkook pushed back against the other so that he could relieve himself of the body weight, not bothering to look up from his notes to see the witch giving his signature sick-pout at him. “Can you please stay away from me right now, why don’t you go lie down or something. You are literally one big germ and I can’t afford to get sick again so soon after the last time. Especially not in the middle of my exams. I need to focus.”

Taehyung sniffed thickly before collapsing into the seat beside the bunny, wiping his nose on the edge of the blanket that he had wrapped around him. He kept staring his boyfriend, coughing miserably only to be ignored. Yet neither of them were willing to complain about the others lack of helpfulness, rather it became a test of who would cave to the others vibes of annoyance first.

Tae was progressively getting more and more whiny, and Jungkook was gnawing down on the back of his pencil to keep from saying anything that he would regret later. He wanted to go lie down with his sick boyfriend just as much as said boyfriend did, but he didn’t have the time nor the ability to risk his health – not when he was so close to being finished with his finals for the year.

“Kook…” Taehyung coughed softly before hooking his finger in the side pocket of Jungkook’s sweatpants, continuing with a strained voice. “You’ve been here for hours…. It’s cold in the bedroom alone.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, giving a harsh tug on his one long, black ear to keep from letting out the frustration that had built in his throat. “Hobi should be back soon and while I’ve been here for hours, Tae, you have successfully made sure that my focus has been on everything except my work. So I’m going to be here for hours more.”

“Uh..” Taehyung sniffled and pulled away. “Sorry, you’re right. I’ll just…”

He stood up and shuffled from the kitchen without another word, realising that the bunny hybrid had returned his focus to his laptop and the pages scattered on the table.

Jungkook hadn’t even realised how much time had passed by the time he gave in to the aches of hunger in his stomach. In fact, he had thought that Taehyung would have wondered in asking for food or cuddles well before he would have decided to call it a day, but he hadn’t seen or heard of the elder since earlier that morning. He had probably managed to fall asleep, which was good. The witch had definitely been overworking himself to try and improve on what Namjoon and Yoongi had been teaching him, it was almost frustrating to watch Taehyung push and struggle through things that always seemed to come naturally to others. It’s not like he did bad at everything, once he is able to decipher and control his magic properly everything will come to him easier than the common witch or warlock – he was technically a mix of both, he’d be more powerful than a lot of people. He just needed to over come a few things first, and perhaps take a step back from experimentations until he actually had the control needed for it – but Jungkook was willing to stay and support him no matter what methods or route he took to achieve what he wanted. Even if that meant having to deal with a few potion after effects or a mass clean up after a spell went haywire – he’d come back to a flooded apartment more than once, one time Tae had even accidentally made it snow in their home for the three days straight and it had only been fixed through the help of Yoongi.

In any case, he was glad that the elder was resting now. Feeling relieved at how much work he had managed to get finished – he just needed to proofread and edit some sections of his essay before submitting – Jungkook decided to get started on making some food. It was a little early for dinner, but considering how tired he was, and no doubt after a day of teaching with extra class sessions after school Hobi will be too, it was probably for the best that a meal was made earlier so they could go to sleep quicker. Taehyung never really had much of an appetite when he wasn’t feeling well, so it would be much easier to get something in him before it got too dark.

He called Yoongi for the recipe of japchae that elder had shared with himself and Tae a couple of times, which had taken a while to connect and he’d been chewed out for apparently waking the elder – another person succumbed to sickness – but it was worth it. Taehyung had become obsessed with it, claiming that the only thing that could top it was his mother’s food and maybe Jin’s famous bibimbap, so hopefully he’d eat without too much of a fuss. Jungkook felt a little bad at having ignored the elder so blatantly earlier, but on an upside he’d managed to get a huge chunk of his work done, so when Tae woke up Jungkook would just have to make up for his actions earlier. Maybe if he made some of that tea that the witch enjoyed so much as well… and something to watch while laying together. Tae loved dramas. Cuddles and dramas. A solid plan.

He got to work on chopping up various vegetables while he waited for the water for the noodles to boil, his mind flicking through the series of tasks he’d set to make his boyfriend feel better.

Taehyung had given himself exactly fifteen minutes to cry, which was as long as he’d managed to walk before he’d caved and waved down a taxi to take him the rest of the way to his friends place. From then he had scrambled to try dry his eyes and blow his nose into the handful of tissues he’d stuffed into the deep pockets of his coat before having left. Doing anything to seem remotely okay in case Jin was busy and couldn’t let him stay, he didn’t want the elder witch to feel pressured into keeping him company.

The warmth of the taxi had caused his stuffy nose to start running at an annoying rate and he was regretting not bringing a mask. Although he hadn’t given his actions much thought besides tossing on a sweater and coat, switching his pajama bottoms for a pair of black sweatpants before slipping on sneakers and walking out – he hadn’t even tried to be quiet but Jungkook hadn’t seemed to really care what he did, as long as it wasn’t around him.

Taehyung shook his head, burrowing deeper into his coat and training his eyes on the blurring world outside as he got closer to Jin’s house. He didn’t want to think about how his chest had pained worse than anything he’d felt that morning when Jungkook had told him to leave. A part of him understood, his boyfriend was probably stressed and had just been saying whatever he needed to in the moment, but Taehyung had still been upset by it.

He sniffed deeply, the thick icky sensation in his throat made him want to do nothing more than be back at home, in bed with his boyfriends gently running their hands through his hair or down his back or just being close to him – the bare minimum at least. Anything.

The car gradually pulled to stop. Tae got out and thanked the driver quickly before needing to cough into his sleeve. The wind whipped at him and his nose twinged as the cold air bit at his now heated skin. If anything, his nose had begun to run even more. He took a moment to blow his nose again, dragging out more than a few bothersome itchy sneezes that had left him leaning heavily on the front gate of Jin and Namjoon’s house to catch his breath.

The blowing hadn’t helped much, his head was heavy and congested, and he just wanted to sleep now. He was so tired.

Coughing downwards as he huddled against the cold and welcomed himself into the couples yard to get to their door, he could only hope that he didn’t look as dreadful as he felt. He didn’t want to be a bother. He just wanted to be around someone, and Hoseok was working, Jimin too, and Yoongi had also been booked off sick and probably wouldn’t even be awake – so this was his last resort.

He knocked on the door, praying that either Namjoon had closed the shop early or Jin had already arrived home from the school days exam schedule. It was a bit of a long shot, but he vaguely remembered Namjoon mentioned during that week that Jin hadn’t been needing to stay as late as usual, and some days didn’t even have to go in to help the second nurse at the school. Taehyung rubbed at his nose and knocked again when the wind shook him with a particularly cold breeze, his breath hitched inevitably once more. Defeated, he hovered a single hand in front of his face and waited, panting desperately with furrowed brows.

..hh..hehh..snff.. .. hhh’Heh’HESHH.. HE’ITSH’UHhh… he’hh..hEHH’TSHH’uh..

“Taehyung?”

…heH’HEESHH – HEH’EESH’AH!

He felt a sturdy hand grip his shoulder and pull him out of the wind, into the warm safety of the house. Jin – because it had to be Jin, even if he wasn’t quite aware of his immediate surroundings with how his head was spinning, Namjoon had never been able to craft the level of concern that Jin was able to put into his voice and touch – kept his hand on Taehyung’s arm as the younger had bent forward to catch another wet double into his hands, even when he made sure to push his front door shut once more.

Breathless and dripping, Tae was led to the familiar family sized couch that Jin had purchased upon moving into their home. He had claimed it was for guests but Tae had always had a suspicion that it was bought in case Namjoon tried to stay up late and ended up falling asleep while working. It was incredibly comfortable. Taehyung couldn’t help but sigh as he dropped into it with a tired cough.

“Tae… What are you doing here?” Jin ran a hand through the young witches hair, carefully running his eyes down the mans form as if he could figure out what was happening through sight alone. “Joonie messaged me saying he was working alone today… I would have thought that meant you’d be at home?”

Taehyung sniffled thickly, blinking away fresh tears before he grabbed the last few of his unused tissues and blew his nose once more. It was beginning to pulse in time with his throbbing headache, and he just knew that it was probably all red from its recent activity. It wouldn’t be much longer before his blowing would make his skin raw.

He scrunched a tissue into his fist to wipe at his nose gently before he managed to give Jin his full attention. Thankfully the man was patient. “I just.. had to leave. *snf*. Jungkook needed… space. I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind me coming over..”

Jin’s lips pursed tightly. The congestion was sinking into Tae’s words in a way that made him think the younger witch definitely shouldn’t have left home. He ran a hand over Taehyung’s cheek to swipe away a stray tear that had slipped out and then leaned in closer. “Well it’s a good thing I love having company. I was just about to go fetch Namjoon, but how about I ask Seokie to do that for me and we can drink some tea and watch a movie.. hmm?”

Taehyung nodded, letting Jin tug off his coat and shoes before following the momentum from Jin’s hands – pushing him to lie down on the soft couch with the gentle promise of ‘being right back’.

The elder retrieved a pink, fluffy blanket that he tucked around Tae’s body, ‘like a warm hug’, Tae had smiled and pulled it closer to embrace its warmth. Vaguely Taehyung could hear Jin on the phone, once the man had moved to the kitchen to fix up the tea, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus completely on what was being said. His mind was mostly being entertained by the hopes of sleep and trying not to sneeze again, but a part of him was aware that it was probably Hoseok on the other side of the phone. He smothered a cough into the blanket, the force shaking him and paining his throat. He would have groaned if he didn’t know that it would just hurt him more. Just a little more time, and then Hobi will be there with him. That’s all he could wish for.

He was woken up by a gentle hand shaking his shoulder, and upon blinking his eyes into the light of the afternoon sun, immediately crumpled forward with a harsh ‘hehH’ESHEW!’.

“Bless you…” Jin set down the cup he had been holding to help pull Taehyung to sit upright without the blanket falling from around his shoulders. “I let you sleep for a little bit, because you looked like you needed it, but I want you to drink and eat something too.”

“mm ‘ot hungry.” He mumbled, letting out a yawn that shifted into an irritated cough that grated at his throat. He took a hold of the cup Jin offer, holding it through the material of the blanket and pulling it closer to rest on his chest.

“It’s not a lot,” Jin promised. “Just some crackers with your tea.. It’s not negotiable, unfortunately.”

Jin sat next to him with his own mug of tea and a plate a crackers’ settled on his lap, pointedly being pushed closer to Taehyung. “Tae…. I love having you here, but I want to help if you need me too. Did Jungkook really tell you to leave?”

Tae hesitated, sniffling thickly as the steam from his tea worked its way to his sinuses. “Not exactly, but… I didn’t feel.. okay.”

He spoke about how he had woken up sick and what he had been feeling, as well as all of the things Jungkook had been going through with his studies – breezing over vaguely of what had been said that morning – then finally speaking about his decision and plan to come where he would be accepted. Jin listened intently, every so often handing him a tissue or a cracker, depending on what he felt Tae needed more as he snuffled through his words. He didn’t say anything either, just letting Tae lean into him and occasional letting out a soft grunt of disapproval – mainly towards Jungkook’s actions and Tae having thought walking would be a good idea.

“I’ll put on a movie, okay?” Jin said softly after Taehyung had admitted to ‘just wanted someone to hold him’ and ‘be there’. If he needed comfort then Jin would provide, he just couldn’t believe Jungkook had shunned his boyfriend. Even if the bunny had needed to focus, he usually always had time to spare for Taehyung. “Eat a few more and then we can finish our tea and get comfortable. Hobi should be coming here soon too, so you can look forward to that.”

Taehyung couldn’t stop a small smile tugging at his lips. While Jungkook gave great cuddles, and Jin gave amazing hugs, there was an atmosphere so uniquely ‘Hoseok’ that made Taehyung crave him. He was warm. There was no better way to describe it. His presence was enough to be satisfying.

For now, he made do with his friend. Letting himself be pulled down to rest on Jin’s chest once he’d finished his drink. The elder had set a box of tissues within grabbing range so that Tae could catch each flurry of damp, heavy sneezes into the soft tissue – his nose growing brighter with each passing minute until he had merely lay his head onto Jin’s lap and held the tissue in a ball against his nose, fighting his eyes to stay open and watch the action movie Jin had found, but eventually falling to darkness.

It hadn’t taken long for Hoseok to leave work – calling his afterschool class to a close earlier than usual so that he could pick up Namjoon and go see Taehyung. Jin hadn’t told him much of anything, mostly just explained that Tae was sick and Jungkook had said some stuff that had hurt his feelings – which was absurd because those two never intentionally hurt each other, especially not with words. It was one of the things he had envied about them, how well they worked. His next concern was that Tae was sick and had still left the house. His homebody boyfriend felt better leaving their home because he didn’t want to be around Jungkook?

Nothing was making sense.

Namjoon had had to tell him to slow down three times before they’d finally reached his stylish home. Hoseok had left his car parked partially in the street and had moved past Namjoon to get into the house first. He’d swung the door open so hard it had slammed into the wall, but thankfully the only reaction that was given was Jin’s startled yell and Namjoon’s complaints about Hobi breaking things. Taehyung was asleep on the chair with his head nestled int Jin’s lap and soft congested snores sounded from him. Thank goodness he hadn’t been disturbed.

“Sorry.” Hoseok murmured as he moved to kneel by his boyfriend. Jin’s face softening a little bit. “Is he alright… he looks like he has a fever…”

“I think he does.” Jin agreed, stroking his fingers through Tae’s hair. “He’s been getting warmer, but other than that I think he just wanted someone to be with him. Jungkook had apparently told him that Tae was distracting him from work and that he needed to stay away because he was sick? Or something? I don’t know, it seemed like a small thing.”

“It’s not.” Hoseok said, his voice hardening.

Jungkook had told Tae to stay away from him because he was sick? The same Jungkook that would cling to either of them every chance he got whenever he possibly could? Not to mention that he said that when Tae was clearly not well…

A heat spread through him that made his jaw clench.

“I should probably get him home.”

“I didn’t give him any medication, but just take some back with you. Joonie?” Namjoon stepped behind the chair and lent down to lay peck on Jin’s lips and cheek. “Hey… can you fetch a few immunity boosting potions, as well as some of the cold and flu ones that I made earlier?”

“Sure, I’ll put a variety in. I have some balms and ointments that will help with any fevers or raw area’s.” Namjoon added before trailing off further into the house, muttering about what else could help.

Jin smiled with reassurance and Hobi let out a sigh as he moved to retrieve a balled up tissue from Tae’s hand. . “He’s fine. The worst of it really was that he seemed lonely but was afraid of being a bother, which is unlike Tae.”

“I know. I just – Sorry.” He stood up abruptly as he searched his pockets for his phone that had started blaring. Tae shifted in his sleep and Hoseok scrambled to find it faster, answering as soon as it was out. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to speak before Jungkook started rambling on in a state of panic.

“I don’t know where he is! He was here and then I thought he was asleep but he’s not asleep because he’s not here! And he’s not answering his phone, please tell me you have him?!”

That heat from before amplified. If Jungkook was going to be sounding that scared of Taehyung not being around then why the hell did he send him away in the first place?

“You asshole.” Hoseok hissed, then lowered his pitch to avoid waking the sick witch. “You basically told him that he was being a pest! What the hell is wrong with you Jungkook? You didn’t even know that he left until now? He tried to walk to Jin and Namjoon’s place. In this cold weather, because you couldn’t be bothered to spare an hour with him.”

“I-I didn’t realise –“

“You didn’t realise? You have been dating him longer than I have Jungkook, you should have fucking realised! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry!”

Hoseok bit his tongue as he heard the choking tears in the hybrids voice. He shouldn’t be snapping at Jungkook. He shouldn’t be picking a side. They were supposed to be open and honest and understanding with one another. Clearly something had gone wrong, but he had a feeling that Jungkook understood his mistake, even if it wasn’t understood as quick as it should have been.

“Okay. Okay, I’m going to bring him home. He’s safe – just… he looks plain exhausted.”

“I’m sorry..” Jungkook repeated softly. “I didn’t think he’d leave.”

Hobi took a deep breath. “We’ll see you at home Jungkook… Just hang on there.”

Taehyung had woken up about halfway home, coughing deeply into the blanket that Jin had lent to them. It was harsh and crackly and overall, just didn’t sound good. Hoseok had sped up just a bit to get him home faster, so that they could get him medicated and in bed… maybe a bath would help.

“Sleep well, Baby?”

He got a rough, undecipherable mumble and Tae struggled to push himself upright from where he was lying down in the back seat.

“We’ll be home soon.” He promised, watching Tae rub at his eyes and then his nose in the rear-view mirror. Then added. “Jungkook was worried about you.”

“He told me to.. to le-ehh hh’-ve…. hh’HE’HEITCHh… HUH’HRESHH’uhh…ugh.”

“Bless. And I know, I don’t think he realised the impact his words had.”

Tae sniffled and rubbed his nose with the edge of the blanket. “He’s jus’ stressed. I over reacted,”

“I don’t think you over reacted.” Hobi answered honestly, that heat from earlier still present even after he’d tried to stamp it down. “He said something wrong when you needed him, perhaps if it happens again then it might be wise to talk about it instead of leaving without telling anyone though, or at least take your phone with you. But the three of us are in this together, neither of us like seeing you sick and Jungkook shouldn’t have taken his stressors out on you.”

He didn’t get an answer. Taehyung just stared blankly out of the window at the dying light out the world until they pulled up at their complex.

After wrapping him tightly in the blanket and draping his coat over Tae’s shoulders, they began their climb to home. Hoseok kept a steady arm around the witch and had to catch him once when Tae had snapped forward into a bout of surprise sneezes that had almost caused him to slip up the stairs when heading to their apartment. They went a bit slower after that. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see Jungkook waiting outside the door for them. He had been perched on the ground with his back to the door chatting politely to their neighbours six year old daughter, and by chatting the conversation had probably mostly been about wanting to play with Jungkook’s floppy ears and asking when he could teach her to draw ‘like a real artist’ again. He didn’t seem as invested as he usually was, and after having glanced up and seen his boyfriends, had almost burst into tears. Taehyung had actually started crying, both choking out apologises.

Hobi smiled. They’d all be fine it seemed. He greeted the child and encouraged her to get out of the cold, waiting for her to be inside before he opened their door and gently tugged his boyfriends inside. The smell hit him first and he sent Jungkook a questioning look.

“Did you make food?”

“Yeah,” he swiped at his face with a sniff. “I thought if I made japchae then Tae would want to eat something.”

The news only caused the witch to let out a sob that had him coughing for breath.

“Tae, baby… please calm down, you’re going to make yourself worse…” Hoseok laid a kiss to his burning cheek and reached to squeeze Jungkook’s hand. “Why don’t you and Kookie go take a bath? I’ll fetch you some water to drink and get the food reheated, okay?”

“Will you join us?”

“I think you two should be alone for a bit, I want to read over everything that Joon and Jin gave us for you.” The dancer placed kiss gently on the tip of Taehyung’s nose, grinning widely as the witch’s tears were halted with a hitched breath. “Don’t take too long though, I missed you both so much today. These extra classes are going to kill me.”

Hoseok took a moment outside the bathroom door to listen to his boyfriends whisper soft words to one another, a flurry of apologies made a second appearance from Tae but was cut off abruptly. Hoseok took that as his cue to get everything ready for when they got out.

Everything would be worked out by tomorrow and yet he was definitely still going to be leaving his classes early to join in on whatever mess was going to be happening here. Taehyung had never learnt the ability to not share anything in his life.

#bts sickfic #sneeze #colds #sick taehyung #stressed jungkook #bunny hybrid jungkook #witch taehyung #witch jin #witch namjoon #poly #they're good boyfriends #i swear #i hope i wrote this right #fever?#coughing #cuddles #and lots of tea

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

Kisses // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This is a request for both @boiled-onionrings and @aberrant-annie ! I ADORED writing this!!!

Summary - Reader is an artist with serious art block. So she decides to kiss her best friend all over and turn it into art.

Word Count - 2.2k

This is based off of THIS gif from @nationgubler

I loved being an artist, but with any career in the arts, there is a time where you have some kind of block.

And I was having artist block, right now.

I sat in my studio, my back laying against the floor of the cold tile. As if the ceiling was going to spark some kind of Vincent Van Gogh idea in my head. I lightly brought my hand to my face, slapping my forehead.

"Come on y/n! There's something in there, anything, anything!" My head lolled to the side in frustration, eyes closed. I let out a loud groan of frustration, very grateful in this moment for choosing the most soundproof room of my apartment to do art. This was out of courtesy of my very kind neighbors. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that something would come soon so I wasn't so damn angry. That's when I saw it.

The book Matthew had gotten me for my birthday a few months ago, sitting right next to my painting of lips, one of my best selling prints.

"Hmmm." I sat up slowly, contemplating if I should even ask this favor of him, but Matthew really cared about my career. Maybe I was in luck, so I dialed his phone number. He answered within 2 rings.

"Hey y/n, what's up?" He sounded out of breath, making his voice slightly raspy. This caused my heart to beat a bit faster.

"Uh, I have a favor to ask you, are you okay? You sound out of breath." I could hear him huff another deep breath.

"Yeah! I'm on a run in the park right now."

"Oh! Well don't worry about it then, I can save this-"

"No no! What do you need, I'm on my way home." This was honestly the most nerve-wracking thing ever, asking my best friend And someone I'm slowly falling for to do a kind of scandalous pose for a painting for me.

"It's kind of, weird. It involves art. I can't come up with any ideas and this one came into my head, you can totally say no, I won't-"

"Honey, good lord, I'm not gonna judge you, just tell me." He laughed in the end, easing my stress only slightly at the sound of it.

"Alright, it would be a portrait of you from waist up, but, also, I would, ugh. I feel weird about it!" I paused momentarily, sighing into the phone and making a pouty face that he *thankfully* couldn't see. "Then I would put kisses all over you, to like, I don't know."

"Spice it up?"

"Yes."

"I'll be over soon, I'm gonna take a shower. See you soon sunshine!" And that was it. Nearly no hesitation and he agreed to it.

*Why did I worry so much?*

Probably because you like him so much, *dumbass*.

I tidied up my studio as a distraction, waiting for a knock at my door. My wooden easel clicked on the floor as I set it near the big window in the room. I set a stool in front of it for Matthew, facing him towards it for good natural lighting. I plopped a 24x16 canvas onto the easel. My heart nearly jumped from my chest as I heard the knock at my door. I almost slipped running to it.

I opened the door to see a smiling Matthew. He was leaning against my door frame dressed in a white button-down and some regular jeans.

"I don't see you wearing any lipstick, how are you gonna manage putting kisses all over me without it?" He teased with a smirk.

This man really knew how to make my heart stop, it was almost insane how much of an effect he had on me. But I was surprisingly good at hiding it.

"I haven't put it on yet you nerd." I hit his chest lightly, moving out of the doorway so he could come in. "You can still back out if you feel weird about this. And also, this is gonna take a while." I looked up at him nervously. He grabbed my shoulders, looking right into my eyes.

"I love helping you with art, stop thinking you're such a burden." He shook me a little, bringing another smile to my face.

"Fine, go sit on the stool back there and unbutton your shirt a few buttons," I ordered him as if I had any confidence when it came to him. I walked to the bathroom adjacent to my studio, grabbing my red lipstick and applying it in the mirror.

"I love the color!" Matthew shouted from the doorway of the bathroom, almost causing me to drag the makeup across my face. I pulled it away from my lips slowly, looking over at the idiot who was constantly scaring me. I gave him the death stare. He quickly brought his hands into a surrender position and backed from the room and into the studio. But not without giving me a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

"Sit!" I shooed him onto the stool I set up for him.

"Yes ma'am!" He saluted, sitting gracefully onto the wobbly seat.

"You promise this won't be too weird?" I asked a final time, a very *very* small part of me hoping that he would think it was too weird so I didn't have to torture myself even more with this horrible crush of mine. He just stared at me with one eyebrow raised, as to silently say.

*Do I really have to assure you again that I don't care?*

"Alright! Let go then." Another wave of anxiety shot through me as I leaned down to his level. My hands parted his hair to where I wanted it. I then kissed my thumb to make sure the lipstick was still wet enough to transfer, and sure enough, the red pigment was smudged onto the finger. Here we go.

I grabbed his face with both hands and brought my lips to his left cheek, leaving a kiss slightly above his cheekbone. I then left another kiss lower on the same cheek. On his right cheek, I put one right in the middle and one more near his chin.

I backed away from his face, pulling the lipstick from my pocket to reapply it. I watched his eyes as I put it on, seeing something I'd never seen in his eyes before.

"You okay Gubler?" I giggled a little, recapping the tube, I smacked my lips, ensuring that I got it everywhere. He blinked several times before shaking his head a little bit.

"Yeah! Uh, yes. Just zoned out." He nodded curtly, now venturing his eyes out the window.

"Okay weirdo." I chuckled. "I'm gonna kiss your chest now." I chuckled again, much more nervous than the previous one. He simply nodded and looked down at me with a small grin.

I got on my knees and opened his shirt a bit. Hopefully, he couldn't feel how much my hands were shaking, because let me tell you, I was *trembling*. I placed my hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss on the side of his neck first. I watched as Matthew sucked his lips into his mouth slowly tilting his head back. His hand was brought to his face and he left it there for a moment. I raised an eyebrow at him but quickly shrugged it off, I wasn't going to let this lipstick dry again.

I leaned down further, kissing his collar bone and then a final one near the center of his chest. At this point, Matthew was looking down at me again. He let off a loud breath and ran his tongue over his lips.

I stood up dusting my legs off, Matthew's eyes following me.

"Are you seriously okay? You're acting kind of funny." I came close to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He looked like a puppy dog looking up at me from the stool.

"I've got a small headache I think." It was a quick answer that seemed like a lie.

"We can stop-"

"No!" I jumped back from him, startled. "No, it's seriously fine. I'm just gonna get ibuprofen from your cabinets." He stood so quickly and turned toward the door.

"I can get that for you!"

"No it's fine I got it." His voice was farther now, almost completely in the bathroom. Even from this far his voice sounded strangled.

*Was this weirding him out? It really seems like it was.*

I gathered my colors from my oil paint box and brought them to the small table next to my easel.

Just a few minutes later Matthew emerged from the bathroom, looking like he felt better.

"Looks like the ibuprofen is working fast." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He snickered, sitting on his stool with a suspiciously large smile. I just shook my head a walked up to pose him. I turned his shoulders slightly toward the window, opening the shirt to see the kisses. I frazzled his hair a little to give it a bedhead look and once I was happy with everything, I went back to my seat.

"Just look wherever is comfortable. I'm giving you free will on that." Of course, he chooses to look directly at me.

"You sure you wanna look at me during this whole process?" I joked, starting with some skin-colored paint on the canvas.

"Well yeah, you're the most interesting thing in the room." I could feel the tips of my ears burn at the comment, not bothering to hide the smile that formed on the face.

"Well, thank you." I kept my eyes on the canvas, partly because I was painting, and partly because I thought that if I looked in his eyes I might melt into a puddle.

I was finally done with the base of everything. I pretty much had an outline with the correct colors.

"Okay, I'm taking a break. Do you want to snack with me?" I stretched my legs as I stood from my chair, my arms flailing high in the air.

"Yeah, what are you getting?" His hands rubbed together like a mischievous fly.

"I made chocolate chip cookies last night. I'm gonna heat them up so they are melty." I excitedly padded my bare feet to the kitchen. I slipped 3 cookies onto a plate and placed them in the microwave for 20 seconds. My back leaned on the counter as Matthew peered over me at my cookies.

"Someones excited about cookies." I laughed, grabbing them for the microwave and setting them on the counter, eating half of it in one bite.

"And you say *I'm* excited." He replied with a mouthful, clearly poking at the way I ate the cookie.

"You just ate yours in one bite!" I shot back.

"Whatever." He grabbed another, eating that one whole as well, as melted chocolate, slipped down his chin. He raised his hand to wipe it off and I was not quick enough to stop him.

"I'll just touch it up when we go back." He looked at his hand that was a mixture of brown and red and made a pouty face at me. "It's fine, here." I handed him a rag to wipe his hands and we went back into the studio.

On the walk back I was already reapplying my lipstick so I could fix the smudge on his face. I slipped into the bathroom quickly, grabbing my makeup wipes to fix the smudge as well. He sat in the stool once again.

Much less nervous this time, I grabbed his face the same way I did before and kissed over the same spot, making it darker and more defined again. As I was about to pull away from his face, Matthew's hands grabbed my wrists, stopping me from leaning away.

"What are you doing?" My heart hammered against my ribs, and at this moment I was hoping he couldn't hear it.

"Do you think there's anything else that needs to be fixed up?" His voice came out in a whisper, I could feel it against my face. "Do you think my *lips* should be red too?"

*Was he saying what I think he was saying?*

Apparently he was, because we both leaned in with closed eyes, connecting our lips. He pulled me into his lap on the stool, grabbing the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. I was sure that I was getting lipstick on much more than his lips at this point.

After quite the makeout sesh, we pulled away, both panting.

"What was that for?" My brain was in a complete haze. I realized I was still on his lap and began standing up, only to be pulled back down by his hands.

"I decided to finally make a move." He chuckled, leaning his forehead on mine.

"You mean, you like me?"

"No, I make out with everyone, all the time." He deadpanned. I giggled, running my thumb across his lips and showing his all the red that had transferred.

"Totally worth it." He smirked, kissing the tip of my nose sweetly.

*I'm not gonna get anything done with this man around.*

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #MGG #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic #mgg imagine #mgg gifs #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler

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imaginedhaven · 4 years

Text

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Eight

Link to Masterpost

A prompt-heavy update, to be sure! This one combines three:

“What are you doing?” “Impromptu dance party.” “It’s three in the morning.”

“You’re weird.” “Or maybe you’re just basic.”

and

Person A is cooking breakfast and sets off the smoke alarm waking up Person B who was still asleep

Enjoy!

~*~*~

Aelin grinned as she quietly closed the door behind her and stepped into the living room. She had just finished her first shift at work without that awful boot that had been a part of her life for eight long weeks, and she couldn’t be happier. Yes, her ankle was aching slightly after a long night on her feet, but it was better than she had feared it would be.

Better still, she knew that she had replaced her stash of snacks just the day before, and Rowan wouldn’t have had time to relocate or get rid of them yet with how busy his work had been keeping him.

Heading for the kitchen, she thumbed open her phone and scrolled through her playlists, selecting one with a smile and pressing shuffle. Upbeat music filled the kitchen as she dug through the cabinets, foot tapping with the beat.

A few seconds later she grinned triumphantly and emerged from the cabinet, fingers clutched around one of the bars of chocolate she’d slipped into the groceries. She had just opened it and was about to take her first bite of sweet victory when she heard a rough voice behind her.

“What are you doing?” Gods, Rowan looked awful, dark circles under dull eyes and hair a complete disaster. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs; perhaps he had fallen asleep at his desk now that she’d given his office back to him.

Regardless, her hips didn’t stop swaying along with the music as she turned to him and smiled. “I’m having an impromptu dance party, obviously.”

“At…” Rowan’s eyes narrowed as he checked the time. “Fuck, three in the morning?”

“I am celebrating my newfound freedom,” she replied seriously.

“You’re going to break your ankle again if you keep stressing it like this, and then where will you be?”

Aelin winked and slid closer to him, still moving to the beat. “I guess I’ll have my big, strong roommate helping me again,” she purred.

Rowan rolled his eyes as she rested her hands on his hips. “You are so weird,” he muttered.

“Mmm, maybe,” Aelin allowed. “Or maybe you’re just basic.”

A single eyebrow lifted on Rowan’s face. “Basic?”

“Yeah, you know. Boring. You have to be aware of the concept, unless you’re an even grumpier and older man than I thought.” It was quite possibly a dangerous thing to say to him, but it was late and she was riding the high of having survived a night without that damned boot. Hopefully he’d understand.

“There’s a difference between being boring and not dancing at three in the morning.”

“Says you,” she grinned. “I bet you don’t even dance when it’s not three in the morning.”

“Of course not,” he replied. “I work when it’s not three in the morning.”

“Seems to me like you were working at three in the morning,” she accused. “I know that’s normal for me, but it can’t be for you.”

“It depends on the work. I’m covering for someone else right now, so I’ve got more on my plate than normal.”

“How long have you been awake?” Aelin asked, suddenly curious.

Rowan frowned. “Long enough to hate everything about this.”

“So, what, twenty minutes?”

He snorted. Gods, he must have been exhausted for her to get an actual laugh out of him. “Try ‘since about this time yesterday’,” he admitted.

“What? No, Rowan, that’s way too long for people who aren’t either in college or working weird shifts. Did you fall asleep at your desk? Because you look like you fell asleep at your desk.” Without even thinking about what she was doing, Aelin ran her fingers through the tangle of his hair to start taming it.

His fingers encircled her wrist, and she stopped and looked at him. “I didn’t fall asleep at my desk.”

Just then, the music playing from her phone switched from something that was merely suggestive to something that was outwardly dirty, and she broke away from him and fumbled with the device, hoping to stop it before he noticed exactly what the lyrics were.

She was obviously unsuccessful, though, for he almost doubled over laughing. “I didn’t realize it was that kind of dance party.”

Gods, she hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. “It wasn’t. The playlist was on shuffle.”

“Aelin, that means you had to have picked that playlist. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Fuck, but she hated living with a man who analyzed word choice for a living. “I forgot that was on there. And I’m not having this argument with you right now.”

“So when are we having this argument?” he grinned. “I want to be prepared.”

“When you’ve slept, Rowan, for fuck’s sake.” With that she began physically herding him up the stairs. “Come on, go.”

When they reached the doorway to the room he had taken over from Aedion, she leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded against her chest. He moved toward the dresser and opened a drawer, glancing back at her. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all, as long as you’re getting to sleep,” she replied.

He cleared his throat. “Aelin?”

“Yes?”

“Get out.”

“Oh!” Gods, she had completely misinterpreted what he was saying. “Oh, I’ll, um…”

She shifted away from the door, and before she could figure out what on earth to say to him he had closed the door—surprisingly gently—in her face.

“Um, good night, I guess,” she finally managed.

“Good night, Aelin,” he called through the door.

Well, fuck. With that embarrassment behind her, she turned to her own room to hopefully settle down for the night and not replay that conversation for hours on end.

~*~*~

Aelin woke up earlier than usual the next morning to a silent house.

The silence in itself wasn’t unusual; Rowan was a very quiet housemate even when he was home. A check of her calendar reminded her that it was Saturday, meaning he was likely either on one of his habitual runs through the neighborhood or holed up in his office pretending that working on weekends was a thing that normal people in his position did. Just in case it was the latter, she made sure to keep as quiet as she could while she slipped into a t-shirt dress and crept down the stairs.

The office was silent, the door opening to an empty room, which meant that either he was out running or he was somehow still asleep. A glance at the doorway showed his running shoes tucked exactly where he always left them.

Stunned, Aelin sat on the couch to collect herself. She couldn’t recall a time she’d actually woken up before Rowan; the opposition of their schedules usually meant that he was the early bird and she the night owl. However, this meant she had a chance to enact a plan she’d been idly thinking about for weeks now.

Rowan had done so much for her the past few weeks, picking up the slack in the household chores without once complaining about it and regularly cooking for her as well. She’d wanted to do something in return for so long, and now that her ankle was healed and he wasn’t awake to stop her an idea came to her.

She silently slid into the kitchen, carefully opening cabinet doors until she found a nonstick pan with a quiet noise of triumph. That went on the stovetop, and a small bowl and a whisk were next on her list. Soon those were sitting on the countertop beside the stove, and she was looking up video tutorials on cooking.

She had watched Rowan scramble eggs so many times now. How hard could it possibly be?

The pan went over heat with some oil in it, and then she pulled the eggs out of the refrigerator. He always made two for her, but should he get a third? Would he even want a third?

Aelin realized she was now staring at the carton and didn’t know how long she had been staring at the carton. With a sigh, she shook her head. She’d barely begun and she was already overthinking it. How typical. Two eggs it was.

She cracked them into the bowl, cheering silently when she managed to do it relatively neatly, and soon she had whisked them up into a unified frothy mass of yellow liquid. Perfect. Just like the video, and just like when Rowan did it.

Belatedly, she realized she would need a spatula on hand to stir the eggs, and searched through the drawers until she found one. Then it was time to add the eggs to the pan.

She stifled a yelp as the pan hissed angrily with the addition of the eggs, steam rising hot and fast—or, fuck, was that smoke? She poked at the eggs timidly with the spatula, revealing the already-blackened underside of them in a hissing release of—yes, that was smoke. Fuck. She’d ruined it.

Time seemed to slow almost to a halt as the pan hissed and sizzled before her, pouring out amounts of dark grey smoke that really shouldn’t have been possible for such a small amount of—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound entered her awareness dimly at first, as fixated as she was on the pan in front of her. When it finally registered, though, she yelped and tossed the pan at the sink, hoping that would stop everything from getting even worse. It landed with a clatter, but even that couldn’t outdo the piercing shriek of the smoke detector. Fuck, it would wake Rowan up, she had to figure out how to stop it.

She dragged a chair over from their little dining nook and clambered on top of it, frantically waving underneath it to clear whatever little sensor had gotten overloaded. The air was slowly clearing, and she was just starting to hope that she might actually succeed in this futile venture until she heard the sound of running feet and a shout from the stairway. “Aelin!”

Shit. She was in deep and unending shit, with no way to talk her way out of it.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan

#haven writes #reluctantly rooming #rowaelin

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galacticlamps · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @the--highlanders ! Thanks!

How many works do you have on AO3?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

76,200

(oh what a nice even number - I should try to mess that up as soon as possible, shouldn’t I?)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Aw man is this intentionally worded to be really hard to answer? I get that it says ‘written’ and not ‘posted’ but then what constitutes a ‘fandom?’ I definitely wrote fics for stuff I was interested in long before I even knew the word ‘fic’ - I did it throughout my childhood, and then in high school, and while I didn’t do it as much in college, it still happened from time to time. So a lot of the books/movies/tv shows/plays/musicals I wrote things for aren’t really fandoms, and frankly, I had to check my old folder just now to even remember some of them existed. I’ll just list the ones that I know for sure had fandoms, since that’s more fun (and embarrassing), right?

Obviously Doctor Who, classic and modern, Torchwood, Sherlock Holmes (ironically more of these seem to be about the books, but yes, I will admit, some for that tv show too), Les Mis, a couple different Marvel comics & movies, Good Omens, hell, I even found a Night Vale fic in there just now.

And I know there are other older things not even in that folder, some of which never made it to a computer at all, so if I had to ballpark a number I’d probably say around 25ish but really, who knows?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Across the Gap

On the Spot

Expectations

Shards of Memories & Fragments of Glass

Itemized

(this was fun, I’d never noticed Ao3 even had a stats page until now lol)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes I take a long time to do so but for the most part, I usually get around to it. The rare exception would be if I first saw the comment when I was super busy/distracted and then felt like way too much time passed before I noticed it again, that it might be awkward if I said something at that point.

I do genuinely enjoy hearing what people think, but I’m also weirdly terrified of making anyone feel like they have to reply to my comments. I know that’s probably a little strange, but it’s actually a large part of why I made this Ao3 account in the first place - my original one, from high school, is followed by some long-time friends of mine who aren’t interested in this fandom, some of whom are involved in art & writing professionally. The thought of anyone like that reading something I wrote out of friendliness or even just curiosity and potentially having to pretend they liked it for the same reasons stressed me tf out, so I like having this virtually anonymous one because I can relax knowing that anyone who reads or interacts with something I wrote has probably done so only because they wanted to, rather than feeling obligated, and there’s no pressure on them to be nice to me about it if anything I write or post annoys them - so I really hope nobody who does just know me as an anonymous blog has ever worried about offending me by not replying to something, trust me, I’m perfectly happy with it!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think I’ve really written any angsty endings? I guess the answer would have to be Reckless just because it involves the characters arguing about sad/weighty things and there isn’t really any solution to those issues - but even then I think I ended it with a kind of acceptance that stops it from really qualifying as angst? I also set it in the the same universe as other fics, so maybe that doesn’t even count as an ending? Am I that bad at ending things on angst? Lol

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Obviously none of the fics I’ve posted are crossovers but I’m trying to think now if any of my WIP’s are - I’ve definitely poached setting/premise ideas from other media, but in terms of actual crossovers . . . I’ve got a few cross-era or cross-Doctor, a few involving Torchwood, but that’s already the same universe, so the only thing that’d qualify as a true crossover would be some vague pieces of a fic where Jamie, Zoe, and Two end up on the Enterprise, since I think the 60s series of Star Trek and Dr Who feel kind of compatible, don’t they? In fact, aren’t there like officially licensed crossover comics or something? Or did I make that up? Idk, and the ideas are very loose, so it’s not much of a WIP either

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope, never

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I’ve never written smut, but I’m wondering if it’s possible that could change soon. There’s a longish multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on for a frankly embarrassing amount of time, and the plot does call for a sex scene at one point towards the end, but I can’t seem to make up my mind on how - uh, I guess the word is explicit? - it should get. I know I could easily do a fade to black/implication thing, but it’s kind of a source of contention and anxiety for the characters, so to skip over writing the actual scene and just revisit them afterwards rings of “and they slept together and now everything’s fine!” which feels kinda cheap to me - in this context, anyway - and not the right payoff for a long fic that’s otherwise more of an interpersonal drama/slightly a period piece, if I had to place it in a genre. I feel like my aversion to actually writing the scene might just be prudishness I should get over, or maybe just self-doubt, because I know I’d rather have a well-written, funny, character-development-supporting sex scene than nothing at all, but since I’ve never had any interest in writing a scene like that before, I don’t know if I can do it well, and I also don’t want to ruin a fic I’m otherwise proud of by doing it badly... ugh I have to figure this out

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I seriously doubt it

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean, it’s gotta be Two & Jamie. I’ve shipped things before with varying levels of investment, but I’ve never been able to use the term ‘otp’ in a literal sense until I came across them, and now it’s already basically gone out of fashion, go figure!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’m not sure if I have one? My WIP doc is huge, but I don’t actually intend to get around to finishing everything in it, so I’d like to think that anything I’ve currently singled out to complete can actually get done.

That said, I do have a few AU’s that I don’t really plan to finish, but it might be cool if I could. Two of them are for all the main + some supporting characters of the Second Doctor’s era - one’s a modern day school teachers AU, and the other is a typical fantasy/fairy tale AU. Another is just Two/Jamie, based on Doctor Faustus (specifically the Marlowe play version) but right now there are two different versions of the ending coexisting in my head. I’ve written parts of scenes & some gen. backstory for all of those ideas, but I don’t know if I’ll ever try to finish them, or what form a finished product would even take - a series of one-shots set in the same universe? one long multi-chapter fic with some kind of overarching plot? And the amount of context/worldbuilding a big AU like these would require might not make them very appealing fics for people to read, so maybe it is better if I just keep them to myself, since in my head I already know what’s going on in those worlds lol.

What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don’t know. I haven’t had a creative writing class since middle school, and since then I’ve only ever shown creative writing to others in a fandom context, so it’s been a while since I’ve discussed it or gotten critical feedback. I suppose when I work in other arts or even academic writing contexts, people usually say I’m kind of insightful or at least detail oriented, which might just be another way of saying I overthink things, but I like to imagine I’m decent at finding little points of interest to expand upon.

What are your writing weaknesses?

If you’ve read this far I feel like you must know what I’m about to say: I do not know how to be concise.

Usually when I’m writing a fic, I put down the dialogue first on its own, leaving out the action of the scene and whatever plot/context led there, even if I’ve already figured all of that out. But then when I go to add those things in, they’re always longer than I wanted them to be. I don’t mind writing something long, but I don’t want my fics to be a slog to get through either, and there can be a point at which the stuff I’ve added for context overwhelms the stuff that I wanted the fic to be about in the first place, so it becomes a structural/proportion issue too. I haven’t completely given up on any fics because of this yet, but there’s one I’ve been struggling with for a couple months now - probably because I’m even second-guessing myself on which scenes need to be written out and which can just be referenced like a recap. Hopefully I figure that one out soon.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

((this is karma isn’t it? i posted a fic last week with two words of gaelic in it and was worried about that and now this is karma))

In general, I don’t want to do it. I feel like you’ve gotta have a really good grasp of a language to write dialogue & speech patterns for someone who’s a native speaker, and since I’m far from fluent in any language the characters I write for are, I wouldn’t feel confident writing any significant amount of dialogue in, say, Gaelic.

As a sidenote, though, I kinda love it when other people do it, particularly for Jamie. Irish (Gaeilge) and Scottish (Gàidhlig) are both languages I’ve wanted to learn for a long time, because my family’s fresh out of living speakers of either & I think that’s a shame, but I started with Irish and at the moment I’m still very much learning it. As different as they are, it still helps me understand parts of lyrics or texts that I come across in Gàidhlig fairly frequently, so when it comes up in a fic I get to feel like I’m being responsible and practicing, and it’s great when I can actually understand what’s being said.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m gonna go with Harry Potter even though that’s probably not a perfectly accurate answer - it’s almost certainly the first thing that has a fandom that I ever wrote for, but it was in a notebook when I was a kid and never something that I even typed on a computer, much less posted online or shared with other members of a fandom. But even then, I’m sure it wasn’t the first pre-existing fictional universe I ever set an original story in, because I did that a lot when I was a kid, it’s just hard to remember those clearly or on any kind of timeline.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I’m very partial to Across the Gap, so I was pleasantly surprised to see that ranked first on the kudos thing above - but I’ve also got a soft spot for So Merrily We’ll Sing. It’s so self-indulgent it feels silly saying ‘it was so easy to write!’ but I guess having a fic that’s already just 100% headcaonons and fluff tied together by a song you really love does prevent it from being much of a labor (I also managed to refrain from making that one unnecessarily long, so that’s another win there)

tagging @terryfphanatics and anyone else who wants to do it - sorry I’m bad at remembering whose tumblr goes with whose Ao3 account, but I really would be interested to read this if anyone else feels like answering them!

#oh boy that was long #sorry #also sorry if the 13 is really big for some reason #i dont know how it got that way so i dont know how to change it #it doesnt look like that when i edit the post only when i save it #not fic but fic talk

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jtrbluv · 4 years

Text

shutterbug | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, unbearable but relatable tiger parents

request: Jungkook,, one shot,, 38 + 40 please 😊😊 @asiivnc

“you leave whenever you feel like it.” & “don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

A/N: sheesh, i have not posted in a hot minute! i’ve been trying to work on this single request throughout quarantine and it really only came down to these last few days where i literally had a spike of inspo and drive and well,, ideas LOL. i considered an alternate angstier ending but i am a self-indulgent mofo who doesn’t like to make myself cry even though i’m sure i cried while writing this at least once (maybe twice). there is so much jk content on my blog i wanna set aside more time to write for other members from now on until i’m satisfied! regardless, thank you @asiivnc for requesting this and sorry for the wait luv, hopefully this can make up for it !!

Jungkook was known to be heavily passionate and fully invested in whatever his life had revolved around at that moment. As a film/photography major, as well as a man that just had a strange knack for being naturally adept at whatever was thrown at him, he incessantly poured his utmost efforts into his works. You weren’t any different, as you held just as much significance in his life as the way his serotonin levels would skyrocket as soon as his fingertips touched his precious camera.

Not to be self-absorbed, but you always thought of yourself as his muse. Or befittingly for his sake, the subject of the photo that you would give the title ‘his lover’.

You were so indisputably sure that you loved the boy and even moreso that he felt the same. While being so accustomed to his own nurturing ways and devotion to you and the reciprocated energy on your part, the bone-crushing weight of college hindered all and didn’t give a single fuck about anyone or anything.

Carrying the begrudging burden of having to succeed because he didn’t take the traditional lawyer/doctor career route, was always at the forefront of his mind. Likewise, for fuck’s sake, he nearly got disowned by his own parents and it took him what seemed to be a lifetime’s worth of energy to convince him to just give him a chance. Jungkook was not planning on taking that chance for granted.

Jungkook, being the person he is, was excelling, and his name was beginning to become known in the community of photographers and videographers, and he was finally starting to feel at ease. His parents were even acknowledging his successes to the extent that they were helping him financially with school, which was a huge burden off of his shoulders. And then you suddenly crash-landed into his life and just made his life even more fulfilling and by all means, worth living in.

He knew it was a bad idea. Distancing himself from you was the last thing he wanted to do. All his parents were concerned about was the fact that you were the only thing hindering him from making it “big”, when turns out, you became the sole inspiration and muse for most of his recent works. So they gave him an ultimatum to either be cut off financially or break up with you. He didn’t understand, because his parents liked you so much and they loved the influence you had on his work. He didn’t understand. He hated it—the fact that he was basically hanging by puppet strings and didn’t have a say in what he did considering the age he was in now.

He also hated the fact that he knew they had good intentions, and were only doing this because they wanted him to be successful. Their idea of true success for his career could only be seen as the financial benefits of being a director or producer rather than being able to just pursue and learn more about the art form that he loves. There was no use of trying to persuade them, so likewise, he did not. But why get her involved into this mess too?

Jungkook tended to stray away from confrontation and hated immediate and unexpected change as much as he acted like it didn’t phase him. He figured the sooner he can gain benefit from his passion, the less dreadful this dilemma would be. Less mess. Less stress. More time to be with you. That was the intended plan.

His next course of action was to score a film internship and potential job at the rather famous, Fox Studios. By doing so, would have to win the statewide film contest— a much larger scale than he had ever involved himself in. The mere thought of him having to showcase his own self-produced work to critically acclaimed film critics made the bile in his system threaten to upchuck onto the lemon-pledge scented floors of his dorm room. Then he remembered and was reminded— by the help of you of course, that he was Jeon Jungkook, and everyone knows that Jeon Jungkook does not like to lose.

He presumed that keeping up his grades would give him more credibility to getting the internship as well, so he put more focus onto his schoolwork. The remainder of his time was dedicated to exploring his potential ideas and storyboarding out his options and what would be most effective and most consequently— worthy of winning first place.

During this very strenuous time for the poor man, you would most likely see him trudging down the halls, hair in a complete disarray or simply hidden by the fabric of his hood, his eyelids threatening to close shut almost as if it’s taking all his willpower to keep them open, chugging down another red bull with one hand while he grips the strap of his backpack with practically no energy.

I mean you thought it was kinda cute at first, but his apparent deteriorating state mostly caused you to be more concerned than anything else.

In hopes to not hinder his creative flow but still keep his health at par, you would stop by every so often to give him food and give him reassurance—he never needed it so much until now.

Jungkook never told you about the irrational ultimatum his parents had given him. He came to the conclusion that it’d be unnecessary as long as he was able to carry out his plans. Nonetheless, the pressure of the whole situation was getting to him. The love of his life, passion for working with a camera, his parents’ disapproval, and just the own personal dream to be able to tell everyone that “Fuck you, I told you I could do it, and I did,” enveloped his whole mind these days.

Time had proved to not work in Jungkook’s favor. Two weeks passed in a mere blink of an eye leaving him with only two more weeks to finish his film in time for the film contest. This time around, he decided to choose a topic that resonated more with his own personal life. The film revolves around the struggle to be able to conform to the standards and expectations that society implements onto young people, whether it’d be from mainstream media or direct connections, like family. Typically, he stuck a title onto his projects after fully completing it, but for some reason, this time, it had worked in reverse. The title itself suddenly popped into his mind one day and from there he was able to garner ideas from it. And so the title was ‘Moulded’.

A very risky step on Jungkook’s part was what you initially thought when he first told you the idea. He knew that too, which is why he did it. You knew him long enough to be aware of the influence his parents had on his life and their outdated beliefs. You also knew the potential the boy’s zeal could take him, and because of that, all traces of worry left you shortly afterward.

Two days. The film contest was in two days. Jungkook was just about finished at this point, constantly playing back frames and adding final touches, rewatching the same parts over and over again until he became satisfied. He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh, eyes finally averting from the screen of his desktop to the clock on his bedside table.

“Only 9:15?” he muses, realizing these past four weeks had completely fucked over his sense of time, “At least I’m down, color correcting can be such a bit—”

A small jolt reverberates through his desk, interrupting his verbally spoken train of thought. His eyes beeline back to his phone, the contact picture of his mom flashing on his screen. Why would she be calling me at this time?

His brows knit together as he picks up his phone and swipes his thumb across the screen in uncertainty.

“Um, hi mom?” he greets, with the obvious tone of confusion in his voice.

He can practically hear her scoff over the line, “Jungkook-ah, how’s the film coming along?”

“It’s almost done-”

“Are you still with that girl?” she forcibly asks out of nowhere, leaving him dumbfounded to the point his mouth was hanging open in return.

A few seconds pass by as he processes what’s going on. He tightens his grip on the phone at the mention of you as he confesses through gritted teeth, “Yes mom.”

“We had a deal didn’t we?”

He retorted without waver in his voice, “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Then give it back. The tuition money,” she affirms without hesitation, “Jungkook, me and your father have done our part. It’s about time you do yours.”

“I’ve done practically everything you’ve asked. I’m doing just fine,” he monotonously states, trying so hard not to implode on his own mother at this point, “Y/N has nothing to do with this.”

There was a short pause, leaving Jungkook in the same state of dejection per usual when he had to talk to his parents, “We just want you to be successful,” her voice softens, using the same line that somehow magically guilt-trips Jungkook every time the words travel to his ears.

He shakes his head in disbelief over hearing the stupid line that seemed to control every aspect of his life, “You say that every time.”

“And we mean it every time,” she interjects, a sigh audibly present over the line, “this discussion is over.”

She ends the call as Jungkook lets out a raspy and guttural groan, slamming his phone onto his desk in frustration with such strength it’d be surprising if the cheap glass screen protector he’s had on it didn’t suffer any damage.

“Kook,” a voice utters softly from the other side of his door, “is everything okay?”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, considering you were just the subject of the conversation he just had with his mom that left him fuming with rage more than anything.

“Can you please leave Y/N, this isn’t a good time,” he objected, adjusting himself in his seat so he’d face away from the door. Even though you couldn’t see him you could still hear the small indication of irritation in his response.

It was more than apparent something was wrong with him, with only two days left until the film contest, you knew he couldn’t manage to keep his guard down, regardless of the stress and turmoil he’d been putting himself through for the past 4 weeks, “Just because you leave whenever you feel like it…” you enunciate, raising your voice loud enough for him to hear your intentions, “doesn’t mean I will.” Both of you knew the last 4 weeks had taken a toll on the relationship, it was only then that he realized how much he’d been putting it off.

The door began to emit tiny clicking noises as he slowly turned the doorknob. He slowly widens the area as he meekly steps to the side, letting you come in as you make your way toward his bed and plop down onto his sheets.

The tension had never been this thick between the two of you, to the extent where it felt absolutely suffocating and unbearable. You had never seen him in such a state of dejection as he simply sat there, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he nibbled on his lower lip, eyes diverting away from yours at all costs. The knit between his brows that would usually derive from confusion or frustration, seemed entirely different this time around. It was as if his mind was full of nothing but everything all at the same time.

You heave out a deep sigh as you finally break the ice, “Jungkook,” you begin, looking up to see him looking back at you to your surprise, “you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry for making it seem that way.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it,” he mutters only to see the flash of hurt in your eyes that makes him divert his gaze back to the floor, “I know I’ve been acting so selfish lately. I’d understand if you felt that way.”

“I hate seeing you like this you know,” you confess quietly, “I know there’s something up.”

His eyes meet yours once again, mouth slightly parted as if he was about to say something, but the silences ensues and he closes the gap once again, resorting back to nibbling the skin off of his bottom lip until it starts to bleed. Your eyes soften as you observe the boy once more. The span of your relationship had naturally led to the two of you being able to open up to one another so easily. You were both able to tell when the other was feeling a certain way and why. It just came with time and getting to know the other person more throughout the relationship. And alongside that was the ability to know when the other was purposely keeping something under wraps—this was one of those times.

“Jungkook”, you whisper just loud enough to catch his attention, which works as he gazes back up at you with all doe-eyed glory, the knit between his brows gone surprisingly out of sight for the first time since you came over. You glance at his bed—emphasizing the void of space next to you on his bed by patting the fabric and peering at the cryptic man, hoping he would get the sign to sit next to you.

Fortunately, he does. He places his hands on the armrests as he timidly pushes himself up from his chair. The chair produces an obnoxiously loud squeaking noise almost emulating the sound of your dog’s dog shaped squeaky toy (counterintuitive I know, but it was a gift from Jungkook himself, the prick). The sound causes you to involuntarily snort as you look away in hopes to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. Too bad you missed the smug grin on his face at your lackluster attempt.

He carefully approaches you as he warily lowers himself onto his bed, making sure he doesn’t make the same mistake twice. He shifts his body to turn towards you, propping his hands at his side. His eyes avoid yours once more, sparing glances at every inch of his own room as if he wasn’t already familiar with the enclosed space.

You pause and calculate your next move, eyes studying the boy’s body language. You outstretch your arm, gently grasping his wrist as you slide your fingers through his calloused palms and twine your fingers with his own, allowing your hands to rest on your knee. His eyes glaze over your connected hands, trailing back to finally meeting your own once again—they had this all too unfamiliar gloss to them, not the usual star-like specks you had been accustomed to looking at. As a few seconds had passed, you spotted the pool of tears starting to brim in the corner of his eyes. Taken aback, you retract your focus to his whole face and how his bottom lip started to tremble, hopeless. Hopelessness was what he was denoting, an emotion you had rarely if never seen coming from the man sitting in front of you.

Before you could formulate any words of comfort, he speaks up, voice brittle and wobbly, “Am I just a failure Y/N?”

“Wha— what? No, how could you ask that? Of course I don’t think you are,” you assert, unknowingly tightening the grip on his hand.

“It’s just,” he drawls out, pausing to think of a coherent way to voice his concerns, “maybe it just would’ve been easier if I complied with my parents in the first place y’know. I’ve been spending all my time and energy fighting it, maybe I’ve just been putting my energy into the wrong-”

“I don’t believe that,” you calmly interject, “I believe that whenever you put your energy into something, you have a reason behind it. You thought about it for a while, it obviously wasn’t something that just sprouted overnight,” you countered, staring off as your eyes land on his workspace, the flashing screen of his computer that reveal his last minute editing as well as the camera you seldom see the man without, “Working with a camera, creating art,” you say while clasping your free hand over the one that you were already holding, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the back of his hand, “that is what you love to do.”

“I love a lot of things Y/N,” he simply states.

“Hm?” you let out under your breath as you notice the single tear that falls onto his cheek, contradictory to the straightforward tone of his voice you had just heard seconds before. Your body stiffened at the sight of the fallen drop.

“Did you hear me on the phone before you came?” he questions, swiping away the tears that threatened to fall with his free hand.

You take a moment to recollect the moments that preceded until knocking on his door, “No, I just heard a loud bang. It sounded like you broke something.”

“Oh, that was my phone,” he shyly admits while scratching the back of his ear, “there is something I need to tell you.”

You perk up at his sudden willingness to tell you what was wrong. Your body language conveys the signal for him to continue, and he does.

“I got a call from my mom before you came,” he starts, “she was checking up on me, knowing the deadline is coming soon and what not.”

You nod slowly in understanding, “I see, what did she say?”

“You have the right to know,” he mutters under his breath while diverting his gaze back to your interlocked hands. He intentionally grazes your other hand before taking it into his own before flashing you a small grin of reassurance, “The farther I’m advancing, my parents just constantly feel the need to strip me of everything else. You probably knew that already. You also know that I tend to just rebel and find a loophole out of things most of the time. I don’t know, lately, it just seems like they solely care about success and money these days more than my own happiness and wellbeing, and it’s been like that for so long. Anyways, I’ve been prolonging and putting it aside for awhile now, but they threatened to cut me off financially if I didn’t break up with you Y/N.”

A single tear slides down your cheek. You’re at a loss for words and coherent thought. The only thing you muster to say is whatever decidedly popped up into your head first, “W-why haven’t you then?”

The brimming tears began to fall more frequently for you as well as from the eyes of the man in front of you. He releases both of his hands and slides his calloused palms up to your forearms pulling you closer in proximity, “I said it before, I love a lot of things Y/N,” he gingerly reiterates as he swipes away the tears from your eyes with the pad of his thumb before trailing his fingers to your fallen strands of hair, tucking them behind your ear.

“I love my parents, I love working with a camera, but I undoubtedly also am in love with you,” he tenderly professes while sliding down his hand to the crook of your neck, “I know my parents never meant harm, but they have to realize I don’t either. I owe it to myself and I realize that I am capable of obtaining and having everything I want in life,” he wholeheartedly declares despite the tears that continue to run down his face, “ And it wouldn’t be everything I want if you weren’t here with me.”

He renders you speechless, tears streaming freely as he continues to wipe them away. He was much more composed now, wiping away his own remaining tears with the back of his wrist. You, on the other hand, were practically sobbing into his palm, tears spilling all over his forearm.

“There’s a reason why I chose that particular subject for the film, “ he describes, hands sliding down to intertwine with yours once again, “It serves as a testament to my parents, to my peers, to you, but also to myself,” he beams, releasing the hold on your hands as he stands up from his bed, extending a hand out to you.

You unhurriedly grab his hand, as he tugs you to stand up from his bed, leading you to sit in his own seat. He swivels the chair for it to face his computer, stepping aside so you could sit down.

“I wasn’t planning on giving any sneak peeks, but it just seems right to show you this now,” he explains, clicking through the frames until he arrives at his destination and clicks play.

It starts off with the emulation of a glitching tv screen, the audio sounds as if someone was inserting a tape into a DVR. The ‘no signal’ screen fades into the familiar setting of the beach in his hometown. Hues of blue fading into muted shades of oranges and yellows flash across the screen, accompanied by the soft crashing of the waves washing ashore on the fine sand. The camera quickly shifts his focus to what seems to appear as Jungkook being fully enveloped and underneath the sand, his head being the only thing that isn’t submerged. Flashing his signature grin, his arm emerges from the sand as he gives a thumbs-up to the camera, making the person behind it erupt into a fit of giggles. That person was you.

The scene transitions into the city streets of the suburb that was close to the college. You were walking down the sidewalk, enamored by the bustle of the people who lived there as well as the twinkling lights that were draped from building to building. Clips ranging from his family, his friends, him working, and more are compiled and presented as he talks over it. His voice begins to say, “As individuals living in a society where opportunities seem to just be knocking left and right, we all have dreams and desires. Whether they are attainable or not, that’s what makes them all the more worthwhile and exhilarating to find out for ourselves. Society, whether we like it or not, is filled with certain conjectures that they believe can assure us of these dreams and desires, what they’ve made us believe as the path to success. They mould us from the beginning. As kids, we are told to behave well, listen to our elders, go to school, get good grades, and get into a good college. As adults, we deem success as having a stable job that pays the bills, buying a house and settling down, finding the love of your life, having kids, and working tirelessly until we become worn out and old. We have these presumptions about what’s better and what’s not, what is easier and what isn’t. Regardless of how much we get told that we can achieve anything we want to in life, we grow older and life unexpectedly throws more curveballs at you to make you think that it’s not actually the case. Well, as cliche as it may sound, I’m here to tell you that it’s just not true. Do what you want. Do what you love. Be with the ones you love. Cherish these moments. Film them as keepsakes to look back on. So… what’s your story? What are your dreams and desires? What sparks pure joy within you and keeps you on your feet? Break those moulds that have been holding you down. Reach for the moon and the stars. And maybe someday with the right amount of determination, and a little bit of luck, you can get there.”

The video ends right then and there, and you had no doubt in your mind that this was his best work to date albeit only seeing a snippet of it. A smile graces your lips as you turn your head to look at the creator of it all. He looks back at you with the familiar star-like specks in his eyes, making you feel rest assured that within all the chaos, you would both get through it all.

MASTERLIST

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factual-fantasy · 4 years

Text

Got 19 asks, thanks ya’ll! :}

The ask itself aside for a moment, If you told him that, it would make him really upset. He would 100% believe that you’re just messing with him and making fun of him.

He truly believes that he is unlovable because of his appearance, and that he cannot form any new relationships because of it. He feels that the only friends he will ever have are the Wreckers that knew him before he became disfigured and somehow aren’t disgusted by him now. Brown Suburban, being the only one he thinks..

He feels that partly why Brown Suburban is even still friends with him is that his vision isn’t great and he cant quite see just how ugly Bash has become. Which isn’t true, but he cant help thinking this way.

Despite actually becoming friends with the rest of team prime.. he can just.. he can just feel all the optics staring at him. He knows he’s a disaster and is ashamed. He feels like the rest of the team is only pretending to be friends with him as a form of pity.

Now, to the ask itself. I don’t think that’s all that odd. I built Bash Buggy to feel like a real being. So someone having a crush on him, jokingly or not means I did a good job. :}

Also, just an fyi.. every single character of mine besides Suburban, Red Van and Miata are single. ;}

Ah its alright, things just suck sometimes.

My new job has been helping a lot actually. I finally feel like I’m useful, so that’s a nice feeling. My job is confusing and it embarrasses me when I cant figure out what to do, but that feeling of being worth something drowns them out thankfully.

No I don’t believe you have, why don’t you tell me about it? :}

Oh don’t worry, Suburban will cover that. ;}

I think it would be best to just.. leave Honda alone for now, and let her calm down on her own. <:/

I’m so glad you liked the memes. I always just assumed no one wanted to see them, so it makes me happy to know that at least some people like them.

And I’m glad I made you feel better! You did the same for me. Getting asks always makes me feel better. <:}

And thank you for all the compliments!! I’m so flattered! (*ﾉ∀`*)

Go for it. I wish you luck. 👍

Its been great honestly. If feels really great to feel like I have a purpose now. Something I do finally matters enough to be paid for it. The job is confusing and will take a lot of time to learn and memorize. But honestly that’s drown out by the feeling that I’m finally worth something.

A while back, Suburban got a strange patch of a few little cracks on his front windshield caused by driving though some branches. It looked somewhat like this. 👇

Suburban is now in the hands of a relative that isn’t.. the most pleasant to be around to put it lightly. She has a history of being a real crank pot and just being a jerk to the others a lot of the time. Lets call her SD. (Suburban’s Driver)

I was out on the farm with SD, VD, (Vega’s Driver) and some others. Suburban was parked in front of the shop just hanging out by himself, so I climbed up on his hood to sit there with him and chill because I was bored.

Eventually I climbed up in his roof and sat criss cross on him. The Vega was parked some feet away which was where WD was. WD (White Trucks driver) was over by Vega and was leaning/sitting on the Vega’s hood and we were just chatting.

Then, from across the farm, SD starts crabbing at me to get off of Suburban. She didn’t say anything else. No reason why to get off, she just said to get off.

She’s always been a real crab to me. She knows Suburban is my favorite car so I just assumed that she was being a crank again and hogging the family Suburban. She only said to get off, not why, just to get off.

I thought that was unfair. So I turned around to VD, (Vega’s Driver) and asked if I could stay up there. I told him that SD was crabbing at me to get off and he thought the same thing. He’s like, “Yeah you can stay up there, don’t worry about SD. Just stay towards the edge of the roof to your keep weight off the middle.” So I was like “cool.” and stayed up there on top of Suburban and hung out and talked to WD some more.

A little while later we were going to leave. I hop off of Suburban, and then me, WD and VD hop in Vega and drive home. SD finishes up what she was doing and climbs in Suburban to follow us home.

When we get home, SD’s real angry and says, “Come here!” and points at Suburban’s windshield. Suburban's cracks had expanded and now look something like this.

Me sitting on Suburban's roof had put enough pressure on his windshield to make his cracks worse. She got real mad at me for not listening to her but VD backed me up and said that he allowed me to stay up there.

If she hadn’t been a jerk to me so much through out my life, or at least had told me that sitting up there would hurt Suburban, I would have respected her and immediately hoped off. But she’s always been that way and she didn't tell me it would hurt him. How was I supposed to know that was going to happen? I had completely forgotten about the cracks and had no idea that Suburban couldn’t handle my weight.

And VD, the car guru of this family, said it was okay. He hadn’t thought about it too and just assumed, like I did, that she was being a crank pot again.

So, all of these things put together and summed up.. I ignored her demand to get off of Suburban and me sitting up there extended his cracks. Basically, I hurt him. Now that I have a job I plan to try to save up the money to replace his front cracked window, and his shattered back window as an apology..

Deep down. I feel like this plan is going to be more of an apology to Suburban than to her really. At least Suburban only hurt me once.

Only one. She’s way more of a softie than she lets on.

You could give her a high five and she’d smile. You could smile at her and she’d smile back, like, it really doesn’t take much.

She’s so gentle at her core, and it honestly isn’t hard to make it show. :}

As for the real life cars, Green Truck is repaired and is back on the road actually. His steering column has been successfully replaced and now my Volvo is sitting in his parking spot.

Green Truck actually picked me up from work two days as a matter of fact. It was pretty funny! I walked out thinking “Okay, look for Green Truck.” I look straight ahead and at the end of the row of cars sat a gigantic rusty green truck that poked out above the rest of the cars XD. He’s a big boy that’s for sure.

Honda actually is broken down and in a shop last I heard.. hopefully she gets out soon. <:/

As for the characters, Green Trucks weak leg has been repaired and he can now be sent out on missions as a reliable soldier. This means that Red Van no longer has a confined-to-the-base-buddy unfortunately.. but at least Green Truck is feeling better. Mentally and physically.

Honda has been painting a lot more. Which is a.. good thing..? I mean, its her way of coping, but she’s been getting lost in the ink lately..

Daww you’re welcome. Just returning the favor! I’m sure you’ve sent me a virtual hug or two at some point. :}

😊🤗💕

Transformers: I... think it started a long time ago? Over the span of many years, every few months I would watch one of the Bayverse movies at random just because. I really liked the movies and sometime ago I was like “Okay. I love these movies and really want to know the story.”

So I rented all the movies and over the span of about maybe 2 weeks I watched every single Bayverse movie in order, also the Bumblebee movie. After that I wanted to watch one of the Transformers shows.

I picked Transformers: Prime because it was the only show that had an art style that I liked.. And now I’m here. I’m not done with the show yet. Drawing all of our cars as Transformers has always been an idea I’ve had. Officially getting onto the fandom was the little push I needed to make them a reality.

Gravity Falls: Sometime a long time ago after the show was completed, I stumbled into the fandom. I ended up really liking Stanford to the point I wanted to watch the show to learn more about him. So I did.

Pirates: Probably this disaster child, 👇

Hooo man is this an unreasonably controversial subject. My thoughts on the virus COMPLETELY ASIDE, lets take a look at how the not real members of team prime would react.

I think they would all react the same way honestly. They’d be pretty freaked out and worried. To them, they hear that there’s some virus going around the entire planet, that’s some pretty scary stuff. But its not like they can do anything about it to be honest.. So they would just worry, ask the humans every now and again if its gotten any better and just.. kind’a wait it out with them.

They would feel a little bad to think this way, but they have much more pressing matters to worry about. They would be upset to hear that humans all around the world are sick and stressed.. but so are they. What can they really do? <:/

Assuming that its FNAF 1 and everyone can actually play..

Suburban would be super nervous but determined to finish the game. After getting jump scared once he’d go,

Miata and Jeepy would probably be the only ones who actually enjoy the game, would beat it, and would want to play it again later.

Escort probably wouldn’t play at all. What's he trying to do? Give himself a second heart attack?? But if he had to.. he’d play for a bit, but would dip after the first jump scare.

Brown Suburban would play the game stone faced and only raise his eyebrows when he got jump scared. He would most likely beat the game. Also, his favorite character is Freddy Fazbear because for some reason the bear reminds him of himself.

U.M.Dragster would jump into it without fear, but would freak out as he kept getting jump scared. He’s too stubborn to quit, so he would probably keep trying and eventually win.

A.T.Dragster wouldn’t like playing it probably, but she is just as stubborn as her brother and would keep going until she won.

Green Truck wouldn’t be able to beat the game and would get jump scared a lot. But at least he’s a great sport and would have fun doing it.

Vega: Y E E T THE COMPUTER

Red Van would want to yeet the computer but is too gentle so she’d just freak out a lot.

White Truck would be scared the whole time but he’d give it his best shot. If he was determined enough he might just beat it, but probably not.

I feel like Beluga and Honda would be terrified and not be able to get past night 2. But hey, at least they both gave it their best shot right?

Ranger would probably shoot the computer after being jump scared.

Volvo would glitch slap the computer off the table. Scaring a medic is a big no no.

Bash Buggy couldn’t play because he cant see the screen. Buuuuuut, if he could see the screen.. he’d love the game and probably be the best at it. He would play it many times over again and would master the game pretty quickly.

Uhm.. I believe not, sorry. <:{

In Escort’s story, I have discussed three ships.

The first ship was the one he was traveling on with Red Van and Suburban.

The second ship was the one he was tortured on after being kidnapped from the first ship. This ship was supposed to be full of my Decepticon OCs. I.e, Reaper, Blue Truck, Zippy, etc. No real Decepticons were supposed to be on it so.. no Bonecrusher. <:/

Then the third ship is the one that rescued him. It was an Autobot cargo ship that had more of my OCs on it. I.e Brown Suburban, Bash Buggy, Honda, the Dragsters etc.

So... no he wasn’t on any of Escorts ships.. <:/

Oh, so he’s friendly? Well then yeah they’d like a hug!

I just saw the clip of him trying to kill Optimus and assumed he wouldn’t be too friendly. .

And sorry for not remembering him! <:{ Its been a long time since I watched the Bayverse movies and I never heard his name before... Not gonna lie though, his alt mode is pretty friggin cool.

Like, just L O O K at it! Noice. 👌

I don’t know if this is what you need to hear, but do it. I don’t care if the drawing is “bad” or “ugly”. Its fanart of my characters, which shows me that you love and appreciate them.

If you want to draw fanart but are afraid of being made fun of, then you don’t have to draw anything. But if you do, know that I will love and gush over what ever you make me. No matter how “bad” it is. :} ♡

Escorts Ducky is named “Escorts Ducky”. :}

And in case you were wondering, Suburban's Ducky is named “Suburban’s Ducky.” :}

#my response #transformer ocs

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masked-buffoon · 3 years

Text

Chapter 13: Filled emptiness (Part 5)

Warnings: addiction (+ withdrawal), mentions of assault, mentions of murder

Author notes: and here is the last part of the chapter...! I really hoped you liked it and that there was no drop in quality compared to the previous ones... That’s honestly my greatest fear about chapter 13... (and having Dazai OOC too...) For the moment, see you in the next chapter, which, hopefully, will come out soon! Thank you all for your support!

"He was deaf-mute?" Dazai asked.

Unable to calm down, even after going back to the Armed Detective Agency and spending an afternoon to type the report, I had decided to spend the evening with him, despite having my own place. My time at the police station had been so stressful that the entire box of morphine substitute had been emptied throughout the rest of the day.

"Yes…! And those idiots did not even notice it…" I groaned, angrily frying vegetables in the pan.

Uemura-san had sent me a text with a new recipe, and I had suggested to my friend to cook for him, for a change. Without much enthusiasm, he had accepted, even if it meant giving up on crab for a meal.

"Policemen these days are so unreliable~" He noted "But I can't believe that would make you so flustered~"

"... One of them dared me to read his mind…" I muttered, blushing again "I… It was disgusting, really…"

I shivered, suddenly feeling cold, and images of the man who had bought me five years ago flashed in my mind. I regained consciousness just before dropping my chopsticks, and shook my head. Nothing had happened… There was no reason for me to be scared of a man I could crush with a single punch, anyway…

"Ogawa? Are you alright?" He inquired, noticing my silence.

"Yes!" I hastily replied "I'm fine, it's nothing. I had a hard day, and I kinda miss morphine… The aftereffects of my therapy, I suppose."

"... I see."

I could easily see that he had guessed my concerns, and, perhaps innerly, I wished he would insist more, show me he really did care, somehow… Instead, I put on my brightest smile and lied, saying I was alright. I could not fool him, then why did he not ask me again, tell me that he knew, and that I should just talk to him…? No, if I really wanted to talk, I should just do so, anyway… It was not his fault. He was actually being considerate by not pushing the matter further. I should be grateful… Yet…

A wave of nausea hit me, and I rushed to the bathroom, feeling unable to hold it in. I ended up throwing up violently, my entire body shaking. That was different from when I was suffering from my ability. I could tell that this nausea had purely been provoked by the lack of morphine. I was craving it, unused not to have the familiar product circulating in my veins. Moreover…

"Are you alright, Ogawa…?"

I heard him lean onto the doorframe. He was there, watching, and I felt ashamed to give him such an unsightly show. I thought I could even cry in embarrassment.

"I'm…" I paused, spasming "I'm fine… Just…"

I threw up again.

"... The therapy… I crave… Morphine…"

"I know…"

Was that all…? He knew…? Then what…? I bit the inside of my cheeks. I could not let myself be influenced by the Fox's words. He was my friend, I knew him better than the informer ever would…

"Do you know what would do you some good?" He asked, coming closer to hold my hair back for me.

"... What would…?" I questioned after vomiting yet again.

"A warm bath." He smiled and patted my back slightly "I'll pour one for you."

"W-Will you…?" I tried to face him.

"Sure, why not? Oh, by the way, I turned the fire off. Your vegetables would have burnt otherwise~"

"Thank you, Dazai…" I cracked a smile "Thank you…"

"H-Hey, what are you — Ogawa…" He sighed "Crying again, aren't you…?"

"N-No, that's…" I sniffed "Mood swings… They're an aftereffect… Too…"

"Mmh, of course. An aftereffect…"

As promised, Dazai poured me a warm bath, before leaving the bathroom to give me some privacy. The water felt agreeable against my bare skin, and I soaked myself entirely in it, finally able to relax after that tiresome day. How could I have shown such a shameful part of myself? Although mood swings really were part of the withdrawal syndrome I was suffering from, I could not use them as an excuse to justify my weird behaviour.

"Ogawa, are you sleeping?" My friend's voice echoed from behind the door.

"Who sleeps in a bath?" I retorted playfully.

"At least, you seem a lot better."

I heard him slump against the door. He was most certainly sitting there, without saying a word.

"Dazai… Are you alright…?" I asked him.

"I am. But you should worry about yourself a bit more… I'm not the one suffering from withdrawal." He said.

"No, but you're still grieving your friend. You haven't been to work for two days. Kunikida has most likely given up." I giggled "I am just concerned about you…"

"You mustn't be." He told me, rather curtly "I cannot return that concern properly, anyway…"

I sighed.

"How much have you heard from my talk with the Fox?"

His silence followed, and I understood he had been aware of most parts of our discussion. I shifted in the water to lean on the edge, facing the door.

"Then, you must know I disagreed with him."

"You did… But I know all of that. I know I'm turned towards Odasaku and that I tend to overlook matters about you… I know I'm not an ideal friend, despite being the one asking you to stay by my side… And you… You comply with each of my whims, going as far as putting your own health aside…" He almost murmured by the end.

"That's because I do care about you." I smiled, although he could not see it "Besides, you gave me your coat, that morning. You always give me your coat when I feel bad…"

I paused, chuckling at the memories.

"Even when you were still my abusive superior, you had given me your coat to protect me from the rain, the day I had killed my parents…"

"I remember…" He chuckled, too "I even thought, at the moment, that you looked small, frail, and weak… You had nothing to do with a murderer."

"Frail and weak…? Despite all of my efforts to look tough…? I'm disappointed…!" I pouted.

"Well, that's also the reason why you're often… Taken advantage of." He sighed.

"Men are gross creatures." I huffed "I can't count the number of times I've been looked down at, or assaulted. I'm used to it, now. But reading that pig's thoughts took me aback, I have to admit it…"

"I could easily guess that. What amazes me, though, is the fact that, despite that, you're taking a bath at my place without a second of hesitation." He noted.

"That's because you're my friend. You've seen me in all sorts of situations, I know I can trust you. Am I wrong to do so~?"

"Well, I'm flattered." He sounded amused.

"Why, despite surely fooling around and acting as a womaniser, I know you're not perverted."

The water had cooled down, which was my signal to come out of my bath. With a towel, I dried myself, before reaching for my clothes. They were gone.

"Dazai, what did you do with my things?"

"Yosano-sensei came by earlier, looking for you~ I told you though, that you had drifted off in the bath~" He laughed "She asked me to, as she said, "burn the rags you use to cover yourself"... Pretty harsh, if you want my opinion~"

"Is she serious…? Really, now…!" I groaned "I suppose she brought over my new set of clothes…"

"Well… Not at all. She just demanded me to lend you a shirt for tonight, but she expects you to wear her gift~"

"For goodness' sake…"

My eyes fell onto the shirt he had put nearby. I had first thought that he had forgotten his there, but it turned out he had left it on purpose in the bathroom… I sighed.

His shirt was too big for me, as predicted, but it was vexing to notice it was covering a large part of my body. Was I, indeed, so small and frail…?

"Thanks…" I told him when I went out of the bathroom.

"No need to." He smiled "Do you want to keep working on your vegetables?"

I had completely forgotten about the dinner I was supposed to prepare.

"It's a bit late, but… Do you want to try it out?"

"I already promised I would." He sat down at the table.

"Then, I hope you won't regret it~ It can't be worse than the hard tofu you made, anyway…" I remembered "Sakaguchi-san hated it, and Odasaku was trying to be as polite as possible…!"

"It was a piece of art…!" He defended.

"It was a blunt weapon, Dazai… In fact, we couldn't even taste it." I giggled, putting a plate in front of him.

"Thanks~ Well, that tofu could have been a secret weapon of the Port Mafia… Imagine, killing enemies by throwing tofu on them…~!"

"That would have ruined our reputation…!" I laughed.

I believed the vegetables were cooked enough, perhaps even too much, for they had lost their crunchiness. Or was it because I had been away too long…? Next time, I would have to be more mindful of that… And perhaps I should add more salt…

"By the way…" Dazai said "You're leaving for Hokkaido?"

"Ah, yes…!" I realised I had not told him about it "The Fox requested my help as a detective."

"I see… That's good. Moreover, since it's summer, it won't be cold."

"That's right… It will be my first time leaving Yokohama…! I'm a bit excited about it…"

"Will it be alright, with your therapy?"

"It will. Don't worry about —"

I paused. Yosano-sensei had advised me against staying alone while receiving treatment for my addiction. I had an idea.

"Dazai… Won't you come with me to Hokkaido?" I suggested.

The smile which enlightened his face warmed my heart at the same time, and I knew I had made the right choice by asking him. His sincerity was a rare sight to witness… It was not a wrong path to walk down, making him happy, after all.

#bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #Dazai Osamu

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cosmic-navel-gazin · 4 years

Photo

This is something a bit different from me, but in light of the recent announcement from Ubisoft that there’s going to be a remake of Prince of Persia: Sands of Time coming out in January 2021, I thought I’d share some thoughts.

(This started out small but got outta hand so super long post incoming, no spoilers for the games)

So first off, a bit of my history with the original game.

I’m a big fan of the Prince of Persia (PoP) franchise, and I’ll fully admit that nostalgia plays a big part in it. You see, in many ways this 2003 classic was my real entryway drug into the world of videogames.

It wasn’t the first videogame I had ever played. My friends had consoles, there were some games on the school computers, but I didn’t own games as a kid. As far as my parents were concerned, these were all the spoils and soul damning devices of Lucifer himself. You know how it is, every generation goes through this thing of blaming all the world’s problems on a new artform: rock and roll, comic books and then videogames.

So yeah, a gaming console or buying games for the home computer was a BIG NO-NO!

But of course, the more an authority figure says you can’t have something, the more you want and crave it. It was only a matter of time until the opportunity presented itself to me.

And then the day finally came.

It was just me and a couple of friends, going to this new magazine store near the school. And there it was: the dvd case that came with a gaming mag for like 5 euros if I remember correctly, stupid cheap for such a great game.

There was doubt, there was fear, there was anxiety. I didn’t know much about the game, only the old 1989 DOS Prince of Persia:

This had the same name but looked different. I was seduced immediately.

The case stared longingly at me:

It’s not my fault, I was bewitched and I bought it.

My symbol of rebellion, my first big transgression, and my first real treasured posession that I bought with hard earned money.

PoP:The Sands of Time was my original sin so to say:

Accurate representation of what happened that day

I furiously installed the game as soon as my parents left the house. Played it for a couple of hours and stood in awe at the thing - the cinematics, the cool parkour moves, the arabian nights setting, the time manipulation to undo mistakes when platforming or in combat, the Prince breaking the fourth wall saying:”no no no, that’s not what happened, let me start over” whenever I died and got a game over…

You have not experienced true fear if at some point in your life you didn’t feel the cold sweat running down your back as you hear the very distinct sound of your parents’ car arriving when you’re doing something “prohibited”.

As soon as I heard that sound, I quickly quit the game, uninstaled it (I could not run the risk of them finding out I had tainted their machine with a videogame *gasp!*), and ran to my room to hide the game before opening the door for them.

Neetheless to say, I never made much progress since I had to start over every time after quitting and uninstalling the thing. I would just play those first couple of hours over and over, never knowing how the story progressed, but I was happy all the same. At one point I knew every line of dialogue, every music cue, every sound effect of that beginning part. It would be some years before I got my first laptop and finally managed to complete it.

All of this to say that the game means a lot to me. Not just as a product or piece of entertainment. This wasn’t casually playing on someone’s gameboy advance or PS2 to have a bit of fun and pass the time.

This was more intimate.

It was just me; the game; a dark room and a blanket; and a sincere and charming, simple but compelling story told seamlessly through mechanics that only enhanced it. This was me witnessing gameplay and storytelling going hand in hand in a way that even many of my other favourite games don’t do, or don’t do as well (there’s usually some disconnect where a game only manages to really excel at one but not the other).

Ok, so on the announcement and trailer:

youtube

As a big fan you might think I was super hyped for this.

But I gotta say…no, not really.

I’m not super angry, but I’m not really excited either honestly. And I don’t think it’s just the rough and uncanny character models and animation that people are pointing out all over (although that doesn’t help).

I guess to talk a bit on that, I should stress out that my problem isn’t that it doesn’t look realistic enough. To be honest, and this is going to sound rich from a big Witcher 3 fan, I think that the gaming industry overall, moreso big tripple A titles, seem to have this unhealthy obsession with photorealism. Like, I don’t need to see the characters’s pores to care about these polygon people. Strong art direction is what I feel is more valuable. I just don’t think this arms race to photorealism is sustainable. Games are taking longer to make and fund, and I’d rather have dev teams spend more time polishing and refining the games’ mechanics and/or story if the trade-off is less “realistic” graphics.

It might just be personal preference, but I wish we were getting more stylized character and world design. Go look at some screenshots for Pathologic 2, a game that came out last year that hits that sweet spot between full-blown cartoony/caricature and realistic by today’s standards:

And I think that is somewhat what they were going for with this remake’s character models (or I hope it was). But it’s still not quite there, hopefully they’ll work on improving those so they can hit that sweet spot also.

(in defense of my hipocrisy and love of The Witcher 3, I think the more realistic look was appropriate for the world they were portraying, it benefits from it. However I don’t think I would love it any less if it had less detailed models and environments)

One last thing on the graphics.

I will say this though, at least from the footage we see in the new trailer the team seems to be capitalizing on colour. Big vibrant reds, blues, whites and yellows in the environment look great, and really captures the 1.001 nights/arabian nights feel that I absolutely love. I appreciate that since there’s always this tendency for remakes to suck all the colour and life from the original (in both games and movies), regardless if it fits the setting and tone or not.

Anyway, I think the reason I’m very much without a big reaction is that I believe the 2003 original is a true classic, a masterpiece even - I guess I should stress out that when I say masterpiece, I don’t mean it’s perfect. Just that the whole is bigger and better than the sum of its parts, that the things it does right, it does so right, that it completely overshadows the flaws.

The story, the art direction, the gameplay (the holy trinity of platforming, combat and puzzle solving), the brilliant introduction of the dagger of time as a gameplay and story mechanic (one of my favourite mechanics in all of gaming), the music, the charming duo that is the Prince and Farah, the tight pacing with the game being just the right length and not overstaying its welcome, the outstanding level design where you’re never stuck doing one thing for too long (the game is always juggling between combat, story, platforming and puzzles, mixing and matching)…

Looking at all these things, I just really don’t think we need a remake because I don’t think there’s that many glaring terrible flaws that could justify it.

Adding more scenes and content could be good, or it might backfire: bloat and ruin the game’s already excelent pacing and fluidity (which I think is the main keyword that better describes the original, everything flows superbly). The original was only 6-8 hours long and it is better for it. I’m not confident that adding dozens of hours of gameplay like the big tittles today would help at all.

The only real improvements I can see are:

tweeking and perfecting the combat (I’ve seen it mentioned that they’re implementing a targeting system which sounds good);

perhaps also better Farah’s A.I during combat when you have to help protect her from swarms of enemies;

Maybe throw in a couple more enemy types? The cut sand tigers for example?

usual things like adding the option of subtitles, add the ability to skip cutescenes;

But other than that…

I don’t even think the graphics of the original look bad. They’ve aged of course, with the game being 17 years old, but still. I installed it last night and played through the first hour to take some screenshots and I think they’re still good:

I can understand the MediEvil remaster, the Spyro remaster or the more recent FFVII remake in terms of wanting to update the graphics. I can understand that not everyone can easily go back to these low poly lads:

But this game? I know I’m influenced by nostalgia and all, but I don’t think it needs that makeover that badly, especially when compared to these other remakes and remasters. Funnily enough, I just noticed that these examples I just listed were all PS1 games. PoP: SoT was a PS2 , PC and Xbox game. PS2 era games have aged far better visually and don’t need that big a makeover in my most humble opinion.

It would be one thing if the original was out of print like a Rule of Rose scenario ,where you can’t find the game unless you go to ebay or something and it’s stupid expensive. Or if it was a pain to get running on modern systems like it was with Grim Fandango, until it got a remaster.

But no, you can find the Sands of Time trilogy and the PoP (2008) reboot on GOG and Steam (on Steam only there’s also the PoP:The Forgotten Sands midquel). So there isn’t the usual problem of the game no longer being accessible to people who want to play it, which helps justify the need for a remake.

The original still plays nice, sounds nice and looks nice, so I guess this all goes to show that at the end of the day, this remake just feels a bit unnecessary to me, at least from what little the trailer showed (I would love to have my bitter cynical ass proved wrong though!).

Maybe I just have a superhuman tolerance for older games and how they look, I really don’t have that big a problem if the game itself is good or interesting, so I don’t always think older games need remakes.

Maybe my falling out of love with Ubisoft in this last decade has curbed forever any hype I might have for their announcements, even when they pull out my son, my baby boy Prince of Persia out again.

Maybe I’m just burnt out and too pessimistic about remakes, remasters and adaptations (although game remakes usually do better than film ones).

And this makes me a bit sad because I don’t want to sh*t all over the first piece of “new” Prince of Persia content we’ve had since 2010??? Oof, it’s been a while.

Especially knowing that Yuri Lowenthal is coming back and excited to voice the Prince again. And I also don’t want to be too harsh since we’re looking at an alpha of the game. But so far I’m just very numb to this, I do seriously hope it turns out good and that they don’t rush it out the door. But I’m not convinced we need a remake in the first place. The original is a milestone, a game changer. I’d rather see a game that had great ideas and poor execution being remade than something people already love and consider a masterpiece.

Guess we’ll see how I feel once more news and footage come out.

Oh and feel free to share your own thoughts on this remake. I’m curious to know what both fans and newcomers alike think.

small edit: I can’t believe I was just watching this Sands of Time playthrough on youtube and at one point it is said: “Another game that is designed similarly to this is Soul Reaver actually.”

Of course! I didn’t even see it! All of my favourite things are connected!!! Maybe that detail was another thing that helped me getting really into Soul Reaver as I was first playing it.

#prince of persia #prince of persia: the sands of time #prince of persia remake #ubisoft #videogames #my ramblings #I can't seem to write a short post to save my life!

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