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con-clavi-con-jae · 5 months

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Would you mind talking about THAT PLAY?

I would like to know a bit more.

ALRIGHT THEN! I HAVE ANOTHER POST ON MY DRAFTS ABT MY CHARACTER BUT ALSO I'm gonna talk a bit abt the plot.

Basically it's a retelling of Jekyll and Hyde.

Doctor Jekyll needed a test subject for one of his experiments, and ends up finding a mental patient named Nancy Noonan, who's the main suspect of murder that Hyde committed.

He knows that she's innocent, obviously, so he makes his lawyer Jane Utterson find some way to keep the girl and use her as a test subject (Jane is also my second favorite character btw I love her she's cool). Nancy also has weird abilities that let her see the future and read minds, so she gets taken away to a circus by a weird nurse that like. We don't liek her.

So there's a whole thing, the wife of the man that was murdered doesn't want the girl to be back and she's so pissed that these people are trying to get her back (she's also Jekyll's not so secret lover and she's another one of my favs and I made her dress btw she's so cool and she's played by one of my besties) but she agrees in the end bc science. And like his housekeeper, Mrs Poole, she also fucking hates Nancy bc of course, she's the suspect of a murder and she doesn't want her boss to be associated with that? Which is a very reasonable concern? (Poole was right all along, I'd fight for her)

Also my character. He's the best, and I read the book he's even better there. So, Rick gets contacted by Jane (the lawyer, who's also his cousin and whatnot) to do a whole investigation on Nancy and the nurse to get them back and all that shit. Which he kinda does? But the nurse hates him already so it's not like he can do much. But he does.

There's also this girl called Elizabeth (she's also just a character our director invented but she's played by one of my besties too) who just. Shows up? And she says she's the daughter of one of Jekyll's old friends, which is why he sort of takes pity on her when she says her dad was murdered and allows her to stay (spoiler alert but none of you're gonna see it so it's fine, she's truly not the daughter of that dude, and she killed him and the real Elizabeth) so she stays and no one likes her but she doesn't care.

So, they go to the circus and kinda try to kidnap Nancy back, but she reads Jekyll's mind and they both go insane. (Also holy shit the dude that plays Jekyll/Hyde is the coolest actor in the world and I sang a duet with him????) Which leads to him switching for the most part but not like. Forever.

Act two, bitches!

So there's a whole thing, also one of the characters is literally Mary Shelly (yes, *that one*, the one who's literally one of the most interesting humans to exist? That Mary Shelly), and she's writing everything that happens for a book. So "Elizabeth" goes to her and is all like "ayo Mary, if you could write a version of what happened at the circus where none of the whole going insane and switching thing happens and I save him, that'd be sick. Please?" So Mary's very confused? But Elizabeth convinces her by saying that she js wants to marry him or whatever, so Mary accepts... for some reason. I mean, she literally just wants to write something and she keeps being removed from situations where things could be written, I don't blame her.

Anyhow, while Elizabeth is trying to convince Jekyll that the thing at the circus never happened and that he's fine or whatever, Lady Danvers (the wife of the dude that was murdered) is paying Rick to investigate the whole case. To which obviously, Rick accepts bc he's a detective and that's also literally his best friend who just went insane with no explanation.

So Elizabeth convinces him and all, and then she's just like "ayo Hyde, it'd be fucking awesome if you could just like. Stay like that. That's a cool plan, so just do it." There's a whole thing with those two, like it's *very heavily* implied that they knew about each other's plan for a while.

So, Elizabeth just fires fucking everyone except for Mary and tries to make her whole weird ass plan happen, but Rick and Jane, as well as the weird nurse, find out about her. "Elizabeth's" real name is Gretchen and she worked for the real Elizabeth's family before she killed them all. Rick takes her to jail, Jekyll is fucking not normal again but almost, and then the ending is fucking weird (lovingly, ofc, I love that ending)

This is my really bad summary of that play. I could talk about it in detail, there's a lot I didn't say, but yk. Summaries r hard.

#jae's an actor #musical theater #the jekyll and hyde show #im literally going insane #i love this play #im also trash at summaries

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queennicoleinboots · 6 months

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Dash Through the Time and Space Continuum

A/N: I do not own Barf, Pizza the Hut, or "Holy Shit They've Gone to Plaid." Those are all ideas from Mel Brooks. I do not own Bloaty's Pizza; Jhohen Vasquez does.

Chef Vanilla Mac, Jack the Crocodile, Ted the Alligator, Patches, King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear, Jaybird, Peter, Murphee, Tug, Lindsay, Mr. Williamson, and I finally got settled on The Green Planet for the second time. We all, after several days of arguing, and I mean arguing, decided what kind of pizza we wanted. The Green Planet Special is what we finally decided. We ate like Kings and Queens and went home until the next day.

Early that morning, Peter was still being tortured. This time, a gigantic, life-sized rat was in his refrigerator. This rat was one of Peter's co-workers. Peter also got the job as the pizza delivery guy for Intergalactic Chuck-E Cheese. He liked his new job, but this rat pissed him off sometimes.

"Why the fuck are you in my refrigerator?" Peter asked the 7'0" giant rat who was raiding the refrigerator.

"Because I'm hungry, asshole," the rat said. Rats were more intelligent when they weren't on Earth. I so don't miss that fucking planet. Fuck off Ear-th.

"Well, go eat out of your own goddamn refrigerator," Peter said as he tapped his foot.

The rat laughed. "I don't have a refrigerator, dumb fuck. I'm a rat," he said.

I belly laughed at this exchange of bullshit. I was still Peter's housekeeper. Peter was still a slob and a brat, and Lindsay was annoyed with Peter's bullshit. She mostly wanted to create a piece of art. She wahooed like a prairie dog out of frustration.

Lindsay walked into the kitchen. She sighed. "Jesus, Chuck, again? You know, some of us pay an intergalactic food service to deliver food. Meanwhile, you're a free loader," she said with a smirk.

"Sorry, Mrs. Carrington," Chuck said as he handed her a piece of pizza.

She smiled and ate the pizza. "Thank you. Now let Peter eat. He is taller than you and needs to eat often," she said.

Chuck moved aside and started eating the packaged cheese.

"Thank you, you fucking rat," Peter said as he moved past Chuck to get a prepackaged pastrami and government cheese sandwich. The government was similar to Spaceballs. Like any other government, it pretended to give a fuck about us. It didn't. It just wanted 10,000 years of fresh air.

"You're welcome, fuckface," Chuck said with his mouth full.

Peter put on his pizza delivery hat and coat before turning to me. "Xara, you want to come with? I need some help with the many deliveries I have today," he said.

Does it really matter what my name is anymore? It changes with every story and every time period.

"Sure. Why not? Lindsay, do you want to come?" I asked.

"Sure thing! As long as we don't talk about politics!" she answered.

Politics in space are too complicated to explain. It is a hell of a lot more involved than Democrats versus Republicans.

"Frankly, me neither," I said.

"Let's bring King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear," Lindsay said.

"I take him everywhere," I said.

"Let's get the bear! We're going to enjoy our pizza delivery," Lindsay said with excitement.

"Yes, as long as he doesn't growl about politics. We have to get the fuck out of here, or we'll be late. I hate being late," Peter said. Even when he left Earth, he still hated not being punctual.

We waved goodbye to Chuck-E-Cheese, Patches, and Tug, the famous basenji and got into Peter's luxury cruise spaceship. We were listening to cheery traditional Mexican music on the way to Intergalactic Chuck-E-Cheese. We sang to it while on our way to pick up King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear.

When we flew to my house, we sang, "Te perdiste de un enorme corazon!!!" from our hearts before King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear walked outside holding our fat prairie dog named Wahoo. He was singing, "It's too much! It's too much to be alive right now! I'm soooo biiiiiiggg!!!" Wahoo well... wahooed.

"King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear!" I shouted.

Wahoo wahooed and shot his head up.

"Mama Bear!" he shouted. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Yeah, C.C.G., but we're bringing you along," I said.

"Hang on a second, baby. Let me grab my phone and wallet," King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear said as Wahoo was on his shoulder. They were going back in the house.

"I should have brought Patches," Lindsay said.

"I should have brought Tug," Peter said.

"We should have brought Chuck-E-Cheese!" I shouted.

"Oh God no!" Peter said as he rolled his eyes.

"I would prefer... if he didn't come," Lindsay said.

"Awaw, but he would be entertainment," I said.

"For you, maybe. He tortures me," Peter said.

King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear and Wahoo came out of the house and headed toward Peter's spaceship. I opened the door for them and let them in next to me before I pet them.

Wahoo wahooed again.

We all laughed.

Peter immediately started to drive to Chuck-E-Cheese, where our first delivery would be from.

Patches was floating in space with her space helmet on. She was paddling toward us.

"Get in! Get in! For God's sake, get in!" Lindsay shouted as she opened the hatch for Patches to get in.

Patches got in the spaceship, and Lindsay took off her helmet. "Thank God I found you. Apparently, Chuck-E-Cheese was sucked into a portal that went back to Earth," she said.

"WHAT?!" Peter shouted. "Fuck this! I'm not going to work today!"

"We have to. We need the money!" Lindsay shouted.

Pauno's head floated in space. He had King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear's beard and hairstyle. He really envied my fat bear's sense of style. "Or you could just Space Dash," he said flatly. No story was complete without hearing his monotone voice.

"Good idea, Pauno. Thank you," Peter said.

"You're welcome. I'm tired. I'm going back to sleep. This multiverse is still bullshit," Pauno said.

Bobby from Bobby's World rode his tricycle in space. Sir Paul the Goat's heat floated in space as he bleated, and his echo broke the sound barrier.

Peter and Lindsay bleated, and we dashed through a plaid rainbow.

"Holy Shit! They've gone to Plaid!" Barf from Spaceballs shouted as his face showed through the rainbow.

Jaybird then joined in on the bleating. He then said, "Did you know that fuel stations make almost no profit on the fuel itself? Did you know they warn people at the stations not to ingest the fuel?!"

King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear blinked at Jaybird's floating head. Wahoo wahooed. Patches meowed.

"They make profit off of the pizzas you buy there. They also warn you that the pizza is hot when it comes out of the oven," Jaybird said before he turned into a pepperoni pizza.

We flew through the pizza, and it was fucked up. We became one with the pepperoni pizza and melted into the cheese. Patches was munching on the cheese. We saw Bloaty's Pizza, Pizza the Hut, Papa Mario's Pizza, Mama Luigi's Pizza, Count Chocula's Pizza, Jenga's Pizza, Peter Wallace Pizza, Inc., and Chef Vanilla Mac's Pizza.

Chef Vanilla Mac flagged us down. Our phones beeped. Peter Wallace's twin who happened to be a dog from some alternate universe, Peter Gromit flagged us down. Our phones beeped again. Wahoo wahooed twice. Patches meowed twice.

The orders on our phones were as follows: a total of 120 pizzas, 60 bread stick bundles, 60 mozzarella stick bundles, 50 Mountain Ales, 50 Dr. Peters, 20 chocolate sodas, 80 vanilla cupcake packages, and 40 Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear packages.

The orders' total amount was $1.2 million.

The mileage was 500 miles.

We accepted the orders and went to Peter Wallace Pizza, Inc. to pick up a bunch of food and load it on the spaceship. Peter Wallace Pizza, Inc. played "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" by The Proclaimers loudly over the stereo. Loren the Goat danced in the background after making the pizzas.

Then we went to Chef Vanilla Mac's Pizza and picked up the other part of the order. We loaded all of the cupcakes, pizzas, and Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear packages into the back of the spaceship.

When we were delivering to about 20 locations, the Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bears sang "I'm Gonna Be (500 miles)." Wahoo wahooed for the whole duration of the montage in sync with the song. King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear fed him whole golden kernel corn. Patches had a few kernels. I took a bite out of King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear.

We flew through the pizza, and King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear growled loudly after I bit him. His growl sent us back in time further than the 1980s. We ended up delivering pizza to the Knights of the Circular Table in London, England in 700 A.D. Oddly enough, the Knights looked like us, but dressed in dresses and armor. King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear still had my bite mark in him.

This King had brown curly hair and green eyes and was 6'2". He was standing and yelling at everyone at the table. "I guess everyone is late today!" he shouted.

"UGH!!! I would hate that!" Peter shouted.

"Late or missing! Where the hell is the Knight we inducted yesterday?!" King Bruce Ace shouted. "He is really late."

It became incredibly windy outside, and we crashed into their meeting hall.

They looked at us in mass confusion. Wahoo wahooed. Patches meowed. The cat that looked like Patches meowed back in a different cat language.

"Well, he had better hurry up because we don't have much time! Portugal, Italy, Iceland, Greece, and Spain are a lot of ground to cover, but I won't stop until I, King Theodore T. Simmons, am in every history book of being the greatest King of all time! Lindsay, bring the cats! We must go forth to Spain! Everyone! Pack your things!" King Simmons shouted.

"Who is staying behind to tend to the homestead?" Sorcerer Banana asked.

"Not us!" King Bruce Ace and Queen Megen shouted.

"Not us!" King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear and I shouted. You know we weren't staying there. Hell no.

"Not I. Not I. Not I," Count Vanilla Manilla said. He was wearing a black cape, white dress shirt, and black slacks.

"Not I," Sir Paul the Goat said.

"Not us," an older knight who looked nothing like any of us said. His daughter looked like a distant cousin of our Lindsay.

"Whoa! We can't bring Millenne!" King Simmons said. "She's too young and valuable!"

"Can she not be your wife?" the older knight asked.

"Oh fine! Let me think on it!" King Simmons said dramatically. "But she stays close by my side!'

"They don't really know we exist," Lindsay said.

"We're ghosts here and in 3023. What's the difference?" I asked.

The new knight was late to the pizza party, but he looked important.

We presented to them a giant pizza.

"What the HELL is that?" King Simmons asked as he looked at it.

"Pizza," Peter, our Lindsay, our King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear, and I said in unison.

"About time you showed up! We were getting ready to head for Spain after eating that pizza!" King Bruce Ace shouted.

"Yeah. We're going to take over the economy... after eating that pizza!" Queen Megara Ice (?) said.

"They've got chocolate in Spain..., and I am going to eat it after eating that pizza!" the King Chocolate-Covered Gummy Bear from 700 A.D. shouted.

"And they've got that amazing rice soaked in peppered tomato juice with corn and chiles! We have to take over Spain just for the rice alone! But first, I am eating that pizza!" the queen wearing the black dress that looked like me shouted.

When the new Knight could get a word in edgewise, he raised his sword into the air and shouted, "Huzzah!" before he went and ate several slices of that 52 inch pizza.

We all went to eat pizza and asked our counterparts how the actual hell we all got into this situation.

The only person missing was Jaybird. I guess he was in the pizza boxes.

#family #time travel #space #delivery #fiction

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rk-ocs · 1 year

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Really old concept notes

Carnelian world

I chose to have Lill red a girl primarily because it was way harder. I already gave her an advantage with bilingualism ( that negates itself because of her age) and no employable life skills. People like the odds stacked against the protag, right.

As a woman, biology itself worked against her. Woman in the past were viewed more as property than people. They existed for the purposes of housekeeping, bringing a bride price. and creating life. Girls that broke the mould were primarily nuns, nurses, and teachers, to quote half-broke horse (book) . Still, they didn't hold the same value as men, and often got paid less, and a lower chance of being or staying hired.

A second problem in their biology was the ability to create life. One of which is known as a period, or officially menstruation cycle. Here is a Wikipedia definition for it.

"The menstrual cycle is the regular natural change that occurs in the female reproductive system like the uterus and ovaries that make pregnancy possible.The cycle is required for the production of ovocytes, and for the preparation of the uterus for pregnancy.Up to 80% of women report having some symptoms during the one to two weeks prior to menstruation.Common symptoms include acne, tender breasts, bloating, feeling tired, irritability and mood changes. These symptoms interfere with normal life and therefore qualify as premenstrual syndrome in 20 to 30% of women. In 3 to 8%, they are severe."

In common explanation, blood comes out of your vaginia, and messes up your hormones. The only way to avoid this is to grow old enough for it to stop, or become pregnant. Pregnancy, is growing a baby inside of you, which also messes up your hormones , and body badly. Humanity, like dogs and all the other mammals, evolved to grow eggs in their stomach, rather than laying it like birds, particularly penguins. Or Pokemon apparently.

But I'm not here to talk about the dangers and inconveniences of periods at the moment, I'm here to talk about periods.

Particularly guys. First, to understand just a little if the uncomfortableness of periods borrow a pad from a mother/sister/girlfriend and wear it for three hours (a college lecture) then go, sit down on a toilet, and imagine it's covered in blood. Not only fresh blood, but dried blood. Blood dried on your butt and privates. And you can't wash it (theoretically we are in school or a movie or whatever). That feels bad enough, but we are also sore, having cramps, and hormonal. Also we might have zits on our face, which does little to improve one's mood. The hormone thing could leave our reactions anywhere from isolation seeking, to sad, to pissed off and looking for a fight, or anywhere in-between. Or all over the place. And we can't go home and declare we quit the day or something. We have to get on with our day.

The anger. I guess it's a bit like any time Zuko from ATLA, encountered the commander in season one. No not commander Shepard, commander Zhou.

Or that's one way to compare it. Anyway, that pad between your legs. That's new. Before that people would have used sea sponges if they were lucky, but probably rags or some needing frequent wash clothing. Or alternately they could go bleed in the woman's tent for a week. That's what science should be doing for humanity, beyond curing cancer. Finding a better way to deal with the cycle. After all, half the world deals with it.

Until then, when a lady in your life has her monthly, give her as much time in the bathroom as she needs, and try to be nice. Make diner/comfort food, heat up a hot water pack for her stomach, and do the dishes perhaps.

She will probably feel better clean, warm, fed, and without stress triggers (like dishes).

----

Live in Living Colour story Carnelian Jordan-Ryan

I own nothing but my own Ideas. The title is from the play catch me if you can, but don't let that turn you off.

------

I guess I could say, It started when I was six. When I was six, I got the necklace. It didn't do anything for two years, but bear with me, I'm trying to go by my personal timeline, not histories.

My dad had found some piece of presumably ancient artifact, and decided, "If I get this artfully wrapped up in wire and put it on a chain, this will make a good gift for my daughter." My dad spent a good deal of time underwater, working in a submarine, though I don't really remember what his job was. Perhaps he was in the navy, or a marine biologist. He wasn't the most involved person in my life even before my life took a turn for the bizarre, and I haven't spoken to him in years.

My mom was around a bit more, but what I remember most about her, Is her love for cultures. She had the idea that I could be very canadian, and had me go into various emerson schools. English, Algonquin, Mohawk, sign language, Meti French, Hindi, whatever teacher she could get that day . Anything she came across, she had me learning. It's part of why I always intentionally use accents, it helps me keep track of what I'm speaking. I think she wanted me to become a diplomat or something.

She also loved to cook. She didn't make just French dishes. She made Japanese, Mexican, Swedish, you name it, she would make it. It's probably her cooking that kick started my ability to eat any texture , taste, or intensity of food, a skill that came in quite useful during fear factor and truth or dare. I was unafraid of eating just about anything, from bugs, to swallowing vinegar, or eating chilli peppers. Mom herself, was stuck in a boring job she hated-at least from what I could tell by her frequent complaints- and making varied cuisine was her one outlet for creativity or something.

But enough about that. My dads "souvenir necklace" was something I always wore, in part to remember him by, since he was often away from home, in that submarine of his. He Write or e-mail often , but it was more like he was my uncle. With mom at her hated day job all day, and dad underwater, the person who actually looked after me on a day to day basis was my cousin who lived close by, Monique-Thierry.

Monique-Thierry is a bit of an unusual combination, for although hyphenated names are fairly popular among the French, it would usually be two combined girls named, or vice versa. Monique-Thierry's parents went the full historical swing on names when her mother was pregnant. They gave her a biblical name, a godmother's name, and a birth name. Mine did too, but her parents wanted the baby's gender to be a surprise. So they made up a set of names a boy and a girl. Then when my cousin was born, they were told that another pregnancy would be too difficult on my aunt, so they bestowed both set of names on their daughter, on her birth certificate.

Anyway, fast forward two or so years, where I am eight, and with Monique-Thierry as she worked her shift at a corner store. It was the day before my birthday, I think, and mildly raining, a rather dull weather one does not expect things to happen on. The door opened and I raced to it, probably believing it was one of my friends coming to visit, and ended up in a hostage situation, knife pressed against my neck. It was the first Near death experience in a life filled with them, and serves as a definitive moment of my life turning to the bizarre.

Of course, I didn't know that at the time, and was busy panicking about the sharp bit of metal at my neck. I couldn't hear anything over the blood rushing in my ears, but I could see Monique-Thierry slowly counting bills. He made some kind of gesture, and started to press the knife into my flesh, drawing a trickle of blood. Something crashed, and I closed my eyes, as the blade pressed much harder, but abruptly it was gone. Holding my bleeding Neck with both hands, I opened my eyes, and realized I was no longer at a corner store. I was, well at that moment in some kind of room bleeding out.

I had no idea how I got into that room. Sadly, this kind of situation would become all too familiar to me in time, and even calming. At the time I had no Idea about that, and did the most natural thing to me at the time. I started screaming, and completely flipped out. A stupid thing to do when your neck is bleeding, but such is panic.

A man came into the room, and started speaking to me in a language I didn't understand, which was a weird experience for me, because I usually had some Idea of what people were saying.

He then started making shushing sounds, which was something I did understand. Once I had calmed down he started paying attention to my Neck.

---

Jordan OC questionnaire

What would she prefer

Pancakes

Cereal with milk

Comedy

Pyjamas

Hotel

Sour

Biking

Neither

Wooden pencil

No hats

Modest clothing

Whistling

Car rides

Stormy night

Summer

Movie with friends

Chewy candy

Football

Never having to sleep

---

First encounters.

"Jordan meets the Frye Twins. The Frye twins Meet Jordan."

-----

Jordan wakes up on a cot in an unfamiliar area. Sadly this is not an unfamiliar situation for her.

"Such strange injuries. It looks like they came from an explosion, but I heard no blast, nor is there any lingering debris. You're extremely lucky, as you were not hit anywhere serious. You wouldn't happen to be named Jordan, would you?"

Jordan nods. The Identity Jordan, is a pretty important one to her, and has strong ties to a time she is fond of.

"Alright then Jordan, I have a job for you. I need you to watch my kids for a few weeks, while I go and take care of something. It shouldn't be too hard, just make sure they do their chores, keep Jacob from running off during training, and teach them how to skin food and cook it, without giving themselves food poisoning."

Jordan went back to lying on the cot. 'Just what did I do in the future that convinced him to trust me with his kids?' She wondered.

------

"Are you by any chance, a traveling artist, looking for work?"

Jordan frowns. So does Jacob. It's one thing to know that she had met them in the future for the first time, but seeing her look so much younger than he is used too ,is shocking. She looks about fourteen, and much more innocent, uncertain, and afraid, her body already tensed to run if this goes badly.

"I might be." She says uncertainly, taking a step back, staring at him intently.

"Then Jordan, I do believe I have a job for you?"

She smiles tensely. "I do believe you have me at a disadvantage. "

"I'm Jacob. And I would like you to find some information for me."

-----

Around Mid morning, Jordan feels well enough to get off the cot and explore her soundings. She heads down the stairs, wondering where the kitchen will be. If nothing else, she will feel better getting some protein in her. Hopefully eggs.

She finally finds the Kitchen, and sees two kids waiting at the doors. She knows them, which is surprisingly not weird for her.

"Evie and Jacob. What would you like for breakfast this fine morning?"

"It's not breakfast." Evie points out.

"Ok. Brunch then?"

"Brunch?" Jacob asks.

"That meal you have in between breakfast and lunch."

"I don't think that's a real word." They both point out.

Jordan smiles. They are adorable kids. And yet, she can already see their personality flaws forming, Evie's narrow focus on her goals, Jacobs impatience and restlessness, that will one day get them into serious trouble probably. It's Jacob in particular she's worried about, because her past recklessness had brought her a lot of trouble, emotionally and socially, and she worried where he would end up in his future.

But now is not the time for that. Food first.

"Come here you guys. I'm going to teach you to crack and cook eggs." And how to get egg shells out of it, inevitably, because she has yet to meet a kid who is good at it.

------

Later, when they are sitting in a train eating French toast , she asks the important question.

"What kind of information do you need?"

"I'm glad you've asked. I take it you have decided to take the job?"

Jordan nods encouragingly.

"My Sister Evie is looking for the shroud of Eden. I need you to help her track its past, and narrow down its location. I also need information on Templars, and a gang called the Blighters. If you can't get it to us directly, you can give it to one of our contacts to pass on, I'll get a list to you later."

"That is a lot of information needed."

"Don't worry. " He tells her. "I can pay. And I know better then to try to silence you. Besides, I hear you're good at discretion."

She nods, then she gets up and leaves.

For her the mission had already started.

-------

Jordan knew logically, that kids hated chores. She had never liked doing them, back when she was a kid. But the amount of reason they were giving to try and get out of them was ridiculous.

Frankly, they were a scarily good team. Evie backed up with facts, to Jacobs points of "why there are much better things to spend our time on then chores."

It was a very convincing argument.

"Listen up Kiddos! I'm aware chores suck, they are just something you do in life. If you can get them done in a few hours, I'll take you swimming, and teach you diving or something."

That works, and Jacob runs off. Before she goes back to sleep, Jordan grabs Evie.

Make sure he doesn't sneak off please. I need rest, if I'm going to be teaching you later, Im still recovering. "

She hasn't forgotten Evies preference for precision. Evie likes to be fully informed, before she strikes.

This reason works, and she can be fairly certain Jacob will get work done.

She should check the chores over anyways, after a nap.

------

Evie is more than a bit surprised to find Jordan slipping a report ,on past locations of the shroud of Eden, into her pocket one day. Particularly because it's not the Jordan she was used to. It's a teenager.

Intellectually, she knew Jordan was a time traveller, but this was disconcerting.

She tracks Jacob down that night.

"Did you know Jordan is here? " she asks when she is sure they are alone.

"I hired her. Didn't I mention that?" He asks.

Evie frowns. Jacob raises his hands as he attempts to explain himself in time to put off Evie's anger.

Carnelian snippets

Meeting other people, has always been a bizarre experience for me. You see, often it is a case of them knowing me in the past, that will become my future. They know me, and introduce themselves to me, then often begin showing me something I will need to know probably. It's done in a rather disjointed teaching style, because the me they had known was far beyond the basics. That happened a lot more frequently when I was younger.

On the flip side, is me meeting their younger selves, where I am a very strange person who appears out of nowhere, and know them very well. I'm used to talking frankly with them, and viewing them as teachers, so to suddenly be put in a reverse is strange.

First encounters are an awkward business on both sides.

And then there's when I meet someone who I have genuinely never met yet in any time stream.

It's strange, because I am rather unsure how far to trust them. Are they involved in any factions I should worry about? Can they keep secrets? I'm used to knowing that kind of thing about people I meet, because, they are already friends with me, and in my future, I trust them because of that.

It's not a perfect system, but good in the long run. It also means I have problems making friends the normal way.

Which in its self, can be rather strange. But, until I hit 13, it was the only way I met people.

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Carnelian snippet

"Imagine walking down a street foreign to you with no local guide. Remember the sensation of being a directionally challenged child, unless you were some kind of child prodigy at orienteering. In that case, just imagine it. Now remember being lost. When you're lost you wander aimlessly around the area you think you're supposed to go to, thinking "I'm pretty sure I've passed that building before." You don't ask for directions for awhile, because you're afraid the locals will look at you as if you're stupid for not knowing this, or some other silly fear. Now take that experience and multiply it by twenty, because you don't know the language ( and can therefore neither ask for help, or read the signs,) and you will have a pretty good idea of what I was going through.

Of course, to make matters worse, I ended up in Japan. Not any old time In Japan, which is dangerous enough. No, I ended up in feudal Japan, age of isolation.

____

Night Watch has Vimes threatening a recalcitrant prisoner with the "Ginger Beer Trick", approximated by a finger popped from the mouth, a hissing noise and a blood curdling scream. (This one's not really a mystery. You shake a glass bottle of soda or mineral water and spray it straight up the victim's nostrils, leveraging the pressure with the thumb. It hurts like hell and leaves no marks on the victim's body. It is commonly done by drug dealers and corrupt cops in Latin America. For an on-screen example, you can watch it happen on an episode of Dexter.) And it doesn't have to be a nostril, either—any mucus membrane will do, but the nostrils are simply convenient.

Ginger beer is, however, particularly effective for it, as incautiously drinking the stuff hurts.

Read more: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/NoodleIncident/Literature#ixzz3mcodmdJ1

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Explaining modern culture without historical context.

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#red jordan ryan #writing #original character #assassins creed #old ideas #iron man #marvel

0 notes

bishiglomper · 2 years

Text

Our house. Its flippin’ terrible. Like we’re definitely getting evicted if the landlord gets wind of it. Which is always possible, I mean, he’s the fucking next door neighbor and also he’s taken it upon himself to change our air filter personally. So he comes in through the basement every month or two.

My once monster of an aloe I was so proud of and loved giving away it’s babies has shriveled to a husk because my sister refuses to let me open a corner of the curtain to give it some fucking sunshine because we can’t let the landlord see inside. Not even a corner of the curtain. The plant is directly against the window but NO. Do you know how much care an aloe needs? Hardly any. My sister had an aloe she forgot about for a year on a shelf above her living room and that fucker THRIVED. She bought me a box of tiny succulents that all starved because I literally have no windows I’m allowed to uncover in this house.

My tolerance for the bullshit has broken, like. I used to have full blown panic attacks after my bar gradually got full but I can’t bring myself to care anymore. Because it never changes.

Mom and I weren’t the best housekeepers ourselves, but after a week or two of letting things go, we’d get a bug up our butt and clean. After a week or two. Of two people. It worked for us.

My sister and her family are hoarder bad. No one can keep up with that. No amount of come-to-jesus talks helped. Charts don’t help. Lists don’t help. Everyone is very anti-authority here. Small simple shit like “put ALL the groceries away” or “dont leave trash in the sink” goes ignored.

That shit gets mentally and physically tiring and I don’t have the wherewithal to bother caring anymore. I physically don’t have the energy to bend down and pick up every piece of trash I pass by. Maybe if OTHER people did their part, there might be a point in trying, but they do not. I used to be the panic-cleaner. I’d get exclamations of “Holy shit!!” every time someone came down to see the progress I’d done. It was lovely. But that was back when I wasn’t as chronically ill.

It takes everything I have just to keep peoples paws off my immediate corner, which I only have so much control over. They still leave drinks, food, toys, mess on my table I use my laptop and tablet on and it’s a pain in the FUCKING ass to MOVE the table so I can get up, because they let shit accumulate in the living room so I have no choice but to heft my sore joints over the chair arms to wriggle out. I take out two handfuls of trash every time I exit my chair. Only a quarter of it is mine.

Shit is always falling apart and we have to just. Tolerate it. Because we can’t let anyone in. Because even if it’s not the LANDLORD, my sister is like “They’re gonna call CPS on us and take my child” Like maybe that would be a good fucking incentive to not like it be bad then???

Like the smoke that came from the sink the other day. Apparently there’s just a clog or something and sewer gasses erupted into the house. Not dangerous, so it’s nothing we can do.

But not we don’t get any water from our kitchen sink. And no one plans on doing anything to fix it so I guess we just won’t have water there.

We went like 2 years without AC. the house got SUPER BAD. Fleas, shit all over the house, (Which I can usually say NEVER fucking happens because the litterboxes may get bad, but NEVER. NEVER that bad. I do not let piss and shit just accumulate, okay? But that year? That year I had to go take care of grandma and I abandoned the house and my cats.

Pantera didn’t die until after we got AC but I’m still convinced the stress of that whole situation is what did him in. My cat fucking died.

Then there was the year or two we didn’t have HEAT. Felt like a fucking refugee trying to stay warm in a dilapidated building. 3 pairs of socks at a time, everyone camping out in one room. Showers at another house. It’s awful.

I don’t know why but today we don’t have electricity upstairs. If my fan doesn’t work by tonight, I’m gonna have to sleep downstairs. The upstairs is always hot. Like it smells like hot wood all the time because so much heat rises. Even if we try closing the downstairs vent to push the AC up.

Usually mom is a crying puddle in the bed. For months at a time. I legit tried to get her into those electric shock therapy clinics because it was so fucking bad.

Somehow though, she’s been active and functional. I don’t know how she does it because even she says there’s no hope. (I once picked up a teapot, because I have a collection packed away and by picking up a new one she exclaimed that “I had hope” and it broke my fucking heart because. yeah. I was thinking this would go so well with the theme when I get to see them again, I just wasn’t thinking about WHEN I’d get to see my teapots again...)

But mom has been working to get the house right. I think it started at being upset over us having to get a storage unit, throwing random shit in it... HARDLY utilizing it right and shelling out $60 a month for nothing useful. She started by sorting out our attic/ storage closet. Then she did the other big closet. It was all background stuff that didn’t affect the house in any way, really, except by shifting around the christmas stuff back into submission.

But lately she started in on DISHES. Like holy shit, a main priority.

Unfortunately she picked that right before we lost our kitchen sink.

But apparently that didn’t stop her. Because she’s been carrying literal buckets of hot water down from the tub to do them

Some of this shit has been sitting there for years. There’s black mold. We should honestly just... throw this shit away, it’s so horrific. But she’s trying to clean them. I’m very proud of her but at the same time I don’t want to go anywhere near it because NOTHING EVER CHANGES we’ll be right back to hiding bins of dirty dishes under the kitchen tables and shit. I mean I’m trying to do the things she asks me to, but with my sister still living here...... ( ⁍᷄⌢̻⁍᷅ )

Like don’t tease me with hope plz. just go.

#vent #im just so tired #long post

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hintofelation99 · 3 years

Text

The Justice League Hangs out with Duke

Bruce: Duke, it's time we had the talk.

Duke: Uh... nope. No thank you. I'm not getting the sex talk from Batman.

Bruce: What? No! The Robin talk.

Duke: But, I'm- I'm the Signal now? Isn't it a bit late for a Robin talk?

Bruce: Son, it's never too late, not for this.

Duke: Um. Ok.

Bruce: When Dick, Jason, and Tim first started as Robins they created a tradition. A tradition that continued with Stephanie, Damian, and now you.

Duke: And that tradition is?

Bruce: Taking down the Justice League. By being annoying and slightly terrifying.

Duke: OHHHHHH. Is that why no one from the Justice League talks to me?

Bruce: Yes, yes it is. But don't worry. I made an arrangement that will allow you time alone with league members to continue the tradition. You have a week to prepare.

——————

Duke: Cass, what do I do?

Cass raises an eyebrow at Duke.

Duke: For the Robin tradition thing. I have to take down the entire Justice League in a night using creative, outlandish, and original methods. But it's already been done by Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and Steph. So what do I do? How can I be better than all of them.

Cass smirks: Take them down too.

Duke looking at Cass like she's crazy: What?

Cass: Take. Them. Down.

Duke: Holy shit, you are terrifying.

Cass just smiles and leaves.

-> One Week Later <-

Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Black Canary, Martian Manhunter, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and Steph gather in the Watchtower.

Duke: Hey guys, Batman just wanted to go through some training exercises with everyone. He'll be a little late. Harley and Ivy escaped Arkham and are trying to grow penis shaped shrubs in all the public parks. But, don't worry he asked me to go ahead and start with out him.

Green Lantern: Why are you leading this meeting?

Duke: Batman is running late and he wants me to practice leading meetings.

Green Lantern, glaring suspiciously at Duke: Are you about to do that stupid Robin tradition where you torture all of us?

Duke: What Robin tradition? Also, I'm not even a Robin? I'm the Signal.

Green Lantern continues to glare at him.

Superman: Calm down Green Lantern, the Robins never do this in front of each other.

Every League member seems to relax at this.

Duke acting confused: Uhhh, yeah. Ok, we have a few housekeeping things to do according to the list Batman left. So, I'll have everyone pair up for sparring while I handle these individually.

------

Everyone is in the training room working out or sparring. Duke approaches Tim.

Duke: Hey Tim, Bruce wanted you to look in to that Bludhaven case. Is that ok with you?

Tim: Yeah, why wouldn't it be?

Duke: Oh, I just thought it might be difficult considering what Dick did.

Tim: ...What did he do?

Duke: Wait, you haven't noticed? Oh no, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything.

Tim: Duke. Tell me what he did.

Duke: Well, Jason said that he replaced all your coffee with decaf.

Tim: THAT BASTARD. No wonder I've been feeling so tired! I'm going to kill him!

Duke: Wait, just stop! I heard that he hid all of it in Green Lantern's room.

Tim: Wait, why there?

Duke: Something about you being afraid of him.

Tim: WHAT?! I'm not afraid of the Green Nightlight! I'm gonna find that coffee then make Dick pay.

Duke: Oh, well cool, good luck!

------

Green Lantern: Um, what are you doing in my room?

Tim: Where is it?

Green Lantern: Where's what?

Tim: You know what I want. Give up now or face the consequences.

Green Lantern: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

Tim: Fine. Consequences.

------

Steph, sparring with Duke: So, what's it like being the first meta bat?

Duke: Not too bad, but I could do with out the whole 'predict the future' thing.

Steph, laughing: What? You can not see the future.

Duke: I bet you $50 I can

Steph: Your on.

Duke, makes everything around him light up and uses a weird voice: In the next thirty minutes Green Lantern will flee the Watchtower in fear. Soon after Dick will be attacked by Tim.

Steph, snorts in obvious disbelief.

Steph: That was so fake-

Green Lantern runs out of the tower looking terrified.

Steph: No way.

Tim tackles Dick and they start fighting like three year old's on the floor.

Steph, handing Duke $50: Holy shit Magic Man.

Duke makes things light up and does the voice again: Oh my god.

Steph, looking excited: What?!

Duke: The- the sushi. The sushi you brought today, it's made from-

Duke pretends to choke back a sob.

Duke: It's made from the fish who was the maid of honor at Aquaman's wedding.

Steph: HOLY SHIT.

------

Steph and Aquaman sit beside each other for lunch, she pulls out her sushi and looks at Aquaman sadly.

Steph: I am so, so sorry for your loss. But just know that her sacrifice is not in vain.

Aquaman, looks confused for a second then sees the sushi: NOPE. Not this again! I'm leaving.

Steph: Wait! I'm sorry!

Aquaman leaves as Steph tries to chase him down.

------

Jason is laughing and filming as Dick and Tim fight.

Duke, whistles: Man, imagine if that video went on YouTube.

Jason, looking confused: What?

Duke: I'm just saying if the video of Red Robin and Nightwing fighting like kids ever got on YouTube, it'd go viral. Oh and they would be so pissed!

Jason, laughs: Too bad B would kill me if I uploaded this.

Duke: Yeah, I guess so. And you can't upload it here because then Superman would get in trouble.

Jason: Why would the boy scout get in trouble?

Duke: Cause he always uses his YouTube account on the Justice League computer. So it'd look like he uploaded it and B would find out that Superman watches cat videos while he's on monitor duty.

Jason, smirking: Huh, so you're saying if I upload this on the League computer I'd piss off Bruce, Tim, and Dick and get Supes in trouble?

Duke, acting innocent: Huh, I guess so.

-> A Few Minutes Later <-

A call from Bruce comes up on the main computer.

Superman: Hey Batman, what can I do for you?

Bruce: You, Red Hood, cave now.

Jason: What? Why me?

Bruce: Because I saw that little home video you uploaded of your brothers.

Jason: What, that wasn't me!

Bruce: I could hear you laughing while you filmed.

Jason: Dammit.

Jason and Clark leave for the cave pouting like kids.

------

Duke: Hey, Black Canary?

Black Canary: Yes Duke?

Duke: I'm sorry to do this on such short notice, but I'm very worried about Dick and Tim.

Black Canary: Why?

Duke: Well, Tim keeps claiming that Dick is out to get him. Something about Dick messing with his coffee? And Dick feels like he's just being attacked for no reason and is worried about Tim's health. Is there anyway you could intervene?

Black Canary, looking sighing and looking exhausted: Usually I have three days of preparation before dealing with bats.

Duke: I know it's just-

Duke gestures to Tim and Dick rolling on the floor fighting.

Duke: They really need help.

Black Canary: Alright, I'll see what I can do.

Black Canary attempts to intervene only to get pulled into the fight. Now the three of them are tangled in a huge, confusing fight, that's filled with yelling and hair pulling.

------

Duke: Damian! Quick!

Damian: What is it Thomas.

Duke: I think somethings wrong with Dick and Tim and maybe even Black Canary. They're all fighting and won't stop! Can you help me contain them so that we can figure out what's going on?

Damian: Fine. I shall help.

Duke: Ok, just try to herd them into this containment cell.

Damian joins the fight managing to get everyone, including himself, into the containment cell. As Damian is trying to leave Duke closes the cell. Damian angrily yells and bangs on the sound proof walls.

Duke: What? Sorry, can't hear you! My hand slipped!

------

Wonder Woman: Very well done Signal.

Duke, acting innocent: Hm?

Wonder Woman: You tricked Red Robin into scaring Green Lantern away, then into fighting Nightwing. Once that fight broke out you tricked Red Hood into uploading a video to the internet using the Superman's credentials. By uploading that video he caused both himself and Superman to face Batman's wrath. You also used the fight to trick Stephanie into annoying Aquaman to the point of leaving. Then you involved Black Canary in the fight, which was her downfall. And, as a final touch, you managed to get Robin into the fight and trapped all in a containment cell. You successfully eliminated 9 foes with one trick.

Duke: You mean 11.

Wonder Woman: What?

Duke: 11. You see, I didn't trick Red Robin, I tricked Nightwing. I had a week to prepare. In that week I convinced Dick that Tim needed to cut back on the caffeine and that Dick should help by switching all of Tim's coffee with decaf. I also convinced him to hide that coffee in the watchtower, in Green Lantern's room. So that was all true.

Wonder Woman: But, that still does not make 11?

Duke: It does. Because This morning I moved the coffee. I replaced the Flashes decaf with Tim's ultra caffeinated coffee. You see Tim has it specially manufactured to increase the caffeine levels. And, while Flash doesn't usually drink his coffee in the morning, he's always running late and forgets, he does drink coffee during training breaks. Which is now. So in about five minutes we will have an incredibly caffeinated speedster in the Watchtower. And since you're the only one around right now with a chance of catching him, that's your problem.

Right as Duke finishes Flash runs by, majorly hyped up on caffeine.

Duke: Checkmate.

------

Martian Manhunter: It appears that I am the last remaining League member.

Duke: Yeah, I don't really understand this tradition but apparently every Robin ends it by picking a favorite league member.

Martian Manhunter: Out of all the League members, why have you chosen me?

Duke: Your smart and have a lot of cool powers. Also, I dunno, I hear you sometimes feel like an outsider with the league. Cause, the whole martian thing. And I know it's not the same but, sometimes I feel like an outsider with the bats, being the only meta and all.

Martian Manhunter: You have chosen me so that we may bond over our lack of connections?

Duke: Uhhhh, yeah?

Martian Manhunter: Hm. Very well, I assume that this is your “Robin Weakness”. Apparently every Robin has one.

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

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 4 years

Text

you weren’t supposed to hear that (F! reader)

A collection of instances where your roommate hears you moaning their name whilst your fingers are between your legs. Or your neighbor. Or maybe you walk in on them saying your name. Take your pick 😈

warnings: NSFW, manga spoilers (in terms of what the boys do post timeskip), degradation (i think?)

a/n: i'm so nervous about this one LOL i’m super into Sakusa but I don’t know much about him tbh. he’s some good eye candy and that’s all i got. and i like the idea that he’d be a bit softer with you. anyways, hope you enjoy ✨J

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium

Other parts: Kuroo | Ushijima

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You weren’t really sure what you were expecting when you filled out the application to be Sakusa’s roommate. The application was straightforward, maybe a bit excessive, particularly in the cleaning department, but nothing you couldn’t handle. And you would’ve done almost anything to be accepted given the price was a steal and the owner of the apartment claimed they would be away frequently. So, agreeing to a few ridiculous housekeeping requests seemed reasonable to you.

All Sakusa wanted was someone to look after his apartment while he was gone, keep it tidy and clean it thoroughly before he returns. You also had to send pictures of the state of your current apartment to ‘prove’ your cleanliness. Excessive, but retrospectively—extremely worth it.

Though what you hadn’t been expecting was for the owner of the apartment to be Sakusa Kiyoomi, an outside hitter for the MSBY Black Jackals. Nor had you expected him to actually accept your application.

In all honesty, Sakusa had been a little desperate. Nobody who’d applied came even close to his expectations, and when he’d read you clean your bathroom at least once a week, it was like a breath of fresh air. And when he met you, you were pleasant and described that you mainly like to keep to yourself which sounded perfect to him. But what really convinced him was that you showed up wearing a mask. He wasn’t sure if you could tell how surprised he was, but the second he saw it, he almost accepted you on the spot.

That was over a year ago now and you and Sakusa have been living in a comfortable rhythm. When he’s home, you gladly help him clean when you have the time, and sometimes when he gets home from practice you already have dinner cooking which he can’t deny he’s come to enjoy. When he’s away, he feels safe that his home isn’t going into complete disarray or collecting dust because you’re there. And when he comes home, he loves that the apartment is nearly spotless.

By now, he almost considers your germs his own. He doesn’t mind sitting near you eating dinner, or next to each other on the couch. In fact, he finds he rather enjoys your presence. But lately, the two of you have been sitting closer on the couch and table, and when he’s gone, he actually misses you, which he will never admit. Coming home to a clean apartment and even you just popping your head into the hallway to greet him before retreating to your room is enough for him.

His growing problem is that he isn’t sure if it’s enough anymore. And it became terribly clear to him when you came to one of his games for the first time.

After the game you waited for him outside the locker room, feeling a little out of place even though Sakusa gave you a VIP pass to be allowed back here. When he emerges, he finds you swarmed by his teammates, politely indulging them and telling them you’re just waiting for someone. It makes his skin prickle in the same way it does when people touch him unprompted. Even worse, Atsumu is far too close to you for his comfort.

You seem fine though, brightly greeting him when he approaches, much to the shock of his teammates.

“What’s a pretty girl doin’ knowing our ‘Omi, hey?” Atsumu drawls, sending a sly smile your way as Sakusa frowns at the nickname.

Before you can open your mouth, amused by the nickname you’ve never heard before, Sakusa interjects, “She’s my roommate.” Rendering the rest of them speechless (which is quite the feat), he takes you gently by the arm so the two of you can leave. Two things shock them: that Sakusa has a roommate and that he touched you.

“They aren’t so bad,” you grin up at him as he scowls, the two of you heading down the hallway towards the exit.

“You don’t have to spend hours on end with them.”

You shrug, knowing Sakusa is a man of unique circumstances when it comes to other people. A thought that makes you stop in your tracks, your hand shooting out to grip his arm to stop him, surprising him enough that he doesn’t recoil from your touch. “We should go this way,” you say, pointing down a different hallway.

He just looks at you, then down at your hand still wrapped around his forearm which you quickly snatch away. “Why? This way will be closer to the car.”

“I came by this way earlier and there was a group of your fans waiting for you,” you grimace. “I’d guess they’re probably still there.”

He frowns, grumbling to himself, but starting towards the hallway you pointed out. He’d very much like to avoid that situation if possible. The two of you make it out unscathed and un-swarmed by his avid fans, and on the way out to the car he can’t help thinking how much he appreciates how considerate you are. Anyone else would have told him he’s being ridiculous and to meet his fans. Not you, however. You always take his feelings into account.

That was weeks ago now. And none of his teammates have let it go since.

For you, when you first moved in, you swore to yourself you’d never fall for him. Not even after you accidentally walked in on him working out in his home gym, his lean and muscular arms out on display, a thin sheen of sweat dampening his dark curls—you nearly combusted. You forced yourself to put it out of your mind, because how could you fall for him? His annoyingly attractive face on billboards haunts you everywhere you go, and he was a stand-offish and a little neurotic for months. But as time as passed, he grew on you.

You now find his need for cleanliness endearing. Particularly now that he’s seemingly accepted you into his ‘bubble’. You’ll never forget the moment he touched you for the first time of his own accord. It was simple, nothing to think anything of really, but for him it was a big deal. It was just a brief touch on the shoulder while you were washing dishes thanking you for dinner. Afterwards, you took note of every time he touched you. One that stands out the most was when he wanted to escape his teammates at the very first game of his you attended. It was firmer, more of a silent plea from him that stunned you.

Really, you could be perfectly happy living like this. Except that your thoughts wander to him far too often now. Especially when he’s gone. It feels weird not having him around, scolding you for missing one spot on the counter, or sitting quietly next to you on the couch—you think about him a lot. His silent presence is strangely comforting, and it doesn’t help you watch his games while he’s away.

He is beautiful to watch. To the point you can’t even believe you live with him. Your efforts to keep your feelings in check were futile. You get so riled up that recently you’ve begun tiding yourself over to the thought of him. At first, you felt pretty ridiculous, especially since it’s hard to imagine him wanting to be…dirty like that, but eventually you just let your imagination run wild. You let yourself believe that with you, he’d be different.

It’s become a habit now while he’s gone. You know it’s awful. Yet you can’t stop yourself. Not when you haven’t been with someone since moving in with Sakusa. At first it was because you didn’t want to piss him off by bringing some stranger into the apartment. But now, you don’t even think you could. Not when you know you’ll only think about him the entire time.

He left only yesterday for his away game, but you’re already missing him. Already foolishly letting your thoughts wander into darker territory that you keep locked up tight when he’s around. His game is tomorrow, so you take the opportunity while you’re almost one-hundred percent certain he won’t come home early. On several occasions he’s come back a day early, but never before a game. Always after.

Your new favorite spot is the shower. Mostly because you can imagine him maybe letting loose a bit while the two of you are actively being cleaned in the process. Once you’ve stripped and the warm water is cascading down your back, it’s easy to imagine him.

You’ve pictured him so many times before that sometimes it really does feel like he’s there. That it’s his hands trailing down your sides, resting your hips, his mouth gently kissing along your neck as his hands move lower. The thought of him towering over you, his curly hair damp from the water, those dark eyes boring into you has you trembling in anticipation.

You’re already soaking when you run a finger between your folds, gripping the tiles when it reaches your clit, wondering what Sakusa’s fingers would feel like instead. Dipping your head, you let out a small, “Kiyoomi,” as you picture him whispering filthy things in your ear.

When Sakusa enters the apartment, he wrinkles his nose under his mask at the slight mess. Though, he supposes he can’t blame you. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another three days. But the other team cancelled unexpectedly, unable to get to the destination due to terrible weather. He hears the shower running in the other room, so he pulls off his mask and gets down to work. He can talk to you about it later.

Though he can’t help imagining you in the shower. Your body freshly clean, water running down your back, between your breasts, and along your legs. His mind gets so clouded by the image that he doesn’t realize he’s been scrubbing the same spot on the counter for a few minutes now. He’s jolted back to reality when he hears a sharp, “Ah!” emit from the bathroom.

He drops his cleaning supplies and quickly strides towards the bathroom thinking you’ve fallen in the shower. The door is slightly open, steam trickling into the hallway, and before he can knock and ask if you’re alright he hears your voice again.

“Oh—Kiyoomi...”

His hand stops mid-air, eyes widening with the realization of what you’ve just said. He pauses for a moment, debating what he should do. He can’t deny he thinks about you more often than he should, and more frequently as of late. And to him, the shower seems like the perfect place. So, he pushes the door open quietly, unzipping his jacket and saying into the silence, “Did you say my name?”

You almost take a tumble into the tub in surprise at hearing his actual voice in the bathroom with you. Close enough to lead you to believe he is in the bathroom. Yanking your fingers out of you, you push back the curtain, intent on yelling at him for intruding on you and scaring the shit out of you, though your voice dies in your throat.

Standing in the middle of the bathroom is Sakusa Kiyoomi, in all his infuriatingly delicious glory, pulling off his shirt and moving to rid himself of his track pants as well. He’s looking at you, deadpan, eyes moving down your body but stopping where the shower curtain is still covering you.

After a moment, you collect your senses, managing to choke out, “Wh—what are you doing?” Just your luck that he came home early at this exact moment and that he heard you. You’d curl up into a ball of embarrassment right now if you weren’t so shocked by his demeanor.

Now that he’s completely unclothed you struggle to keep your eyes above his chest, gripping the curtain harder when he steps forward and says casually, “It was a long flight, I want to take a shower.”

You gape at him. “Right now?!”

He just takes a hold of the curtain, pulling it open slightly so he can step in next to you, and you’re so stunned you make no motion to stop him. And now you’re finding him towering over you in the small space of the shower, so close you can hardly breathe. All the air gets punched out of your lungs when his large hand rests on your hip, turning you so your back is facing him so he can lean down at tease in your ear, “You asked me to come in here, after all.”

All of the heat leaves your body, pooling directly between your legs at his tone. He wastes no time, lathering his hands up with soap and running them along your sides before reaching forward to cup your breasts in his hands, thumbs roaming aimlessly along your nipples, the soap foaming between his fingers.

“Were you thinking about me in the shower?” He asks, his tone dropping into something dark and dangerous. “Such a filthy girl.” He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger making your knees tremble and the growing need between your legs even worse.

“Sa—Sakusa,” you moan, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, getting the full view of his hungry eyes boring into you.

He frowns, pinching your nipples slightly harder, reprimanding, “That isn’t what you called me earlier.”

You writhe in his embrace, gripping his arms, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him as you correct yourself. “Kiyoomi.” He smirks at you, relenting on your nipples as reward, though continuing his soft ministrations.

You can’t help your ass arching backwards, coming into contact with his hardening member, giving him a bit of his own medicine as you grind against him. He hisses through his teeth, admonishing, “What a needy slut.”

“Fuck,” you mewl, pressing against him even harder. You can’t explain what his voice saying those things is doing to you—all you know is you need him to fucking touch you already. “Please, Kiyoomi,” you beg, lifting your arms up and around his neck behind you, your fingers twining into his wet hair. “Make a fucking mess of me.”

He groans deep in his throat, rutting up against your behind and wrapping one strong arm around your middle while the other trails towards the apex of your thighs. “Is that what you want? To be my dirty little slut?” Your fingers grip his hair even tighter, nodding embarrassingly quickly, standing up on your tiptoes to get his hand any closer to where you desperately need him.

Once his fingers reach your core, sliding up through the slick gathered between your legs and towards your clit; your knees nearly give out from under you. If it wasn’t for his arm around you keeping you up, you would have sunk to the floor at the sheer pleasure that sweeps through your body. His fingers are infinitely better than yours and having his solid frame and prominent hard-on pressing behind you almost sends you through the roof.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks quietly against the skin of your neck, his hips grinding up against your ass, which you gladly return with pressure of your own.

“Yes—yes,” you say, gasping when sinks a finger knuckle deep into your heat, quickly adding another and praising you for how well you’re taking it. He watches the space where his fingers are disappearing into you with a sinful expression, enjoying intensely how you’re practically shoving yourself onto his fingers.

“What a good girl,” he whispers, setting your skin on fire, wanting nothing more than to keep being exactly that for him. He smiles devilishly, in a way you would have never imagined he could in your wildest dreams. An almost savage glint in his eyes as he presses harshly on your clit, eliciting a choked sob out of you, and making you dig your nails into the arm wrapped around you.

“Please—,” you say, head lolling on his shoulder allowing him to finally kiss you fully. Surprising you as his tongue slides into your mouth, his fingers relentless, his free arm now helping you drive his fingers even deeper. Voice coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his cock twitch, you plead, “God—Kiyoomi, please!”

“Use your words.”

Thoughts far too hazy to be any sort of embarrassed you hold his dark gaze. “Fuck me.”

Suddenly, his fingers are out of you and he’s bending you over, the head of his cock pressing into your dripping entrance before he sheathes himself completely in you, a hiss escaping him. His head drops to rest his forehead on your shoulder, droplets from his wet hair sliding down your chest as he composes himself from how fucking amazing you feel around him.

“Fuck,” he moans, the closest he’s come to breaking his resolve from just fucking you within an inch of your life. “So tight for such a needy slut,” he grits out, hands resting on your hips as he pulls out only to thrust into you again. His fingers dig into your hips to slam your ass into his, increasing his pace to the point you can barely see straight. Your own fingers scrabble for any sort of purchase on the tiles in front of you, desperately attempting to ground yourself against his brutal pace.

“You feel so fucking good,” you praise, earning you his hand reaching down to lift your leg onto the edge of the tub allowing him to sink even deeper into you.

The lewd sound of skin slapping together, the two of you panting and murmuring nonsense to each other, and the shower continuing to run fills the space as he continues to pound ruthlessly into you is all you’ve ever dreamed about. As he litters kisses and soft bites along your spine, the pressure in your stomach builds and builds, and before it bursts you gasp, “Oh my god—Kiyoomi.”

He notices your body starting to tense up, your back arching and fingers twitching as your orgasm comes hurtling towards you. Taking the opportunity, he pulls your body up, your back flush against his chest, hips never faltering and fingers finding your clit to bring you even closer to release.

“Cum for me,” he orders, voice so cold you feel a little embarrassed by how much it turns you on. But you know that’s just how he sounds sometimes and he’s probably playing it up a bit for you. “Cum on my cock like the good little slut you are.”

That sends you tumbling over the edge, your entire body convulsing as white-hot pleasure courses through your veins, prolonged by him continuing to plunge into you. The sensation is so overwhelming you start writhing in his grip, attempting to ride it out while he holds you firmly against him restricting your movement.

He can’t hold it back much longer, your walls clamping down around him nearly made him cum on the spot, but he holds you through your orgasm, forcing you to endure the full brunt of it while he continues fucking you. Though your body relaxing against his, your fingers winding into his hair, and your voice asking him so politely to cum for you makes him lose it. He grips your hips tightly, jackhammering into you chasing his release. Eventually his hips still, thighs shuddering as he concentrates on keeping the both of you standing while he cums.

The two of you stand there in silence, water still running, as his forehead rests on your back, both of your chests heaving at the exertion you just expended. Your heart is thundering against your chest, unsure what to say and hoping he’ll say something first. He groans, relinquishing your hips from his death grip and pulling his softening cock out of you.

You really shouldn’t have been surprised by what he says first.

“We should rinse off,” he suggests, despite the fact he’s still leaning on your back, hands now resting harmlessly on your hips.

“Okay,” you murmur, reaching for the soap and moving out of his grasp. He just stands there watching you, the water streaming onto his back, a completely passive expression on his face. If it was anyone else, they might have interpreted it as boredom or that he’s uninterested but to you—he just looks content.

You motion for him to turn around and start lathering the soap along his back, relishing the free chance to roam your hands all over his incredibly built body. Peering around his shoulder, you find him with his eyes closed, the smallest smile curving his lips as he enjoys your hands massaging his back. You smile to yourself, moving on to find his shampoo and gently scrubbing it into his hair, tucking the small pleased groan he makes into the back of your brain to remember later.

After a few quiet moments he says, “The apartment’s a mess.”

That makes you frown, a sour expression adorning your face. Poking his side, you reply, “Well, you weren’t supposed to be home for another three days!” He turns around, washing the soap off his back and out of his hair while you take no time to start exploring the expanse of his chest with your soapy fingers. When he opens his eyes, looking down at you, you pout. “Can’t we leave it for tomorrow?”

As much as he dislikes that, he can’t help but agree, finding the prospect of curling up in bed with you much more enticing.

Once he’s finished, he returns the favor washing your body, and the both of you step out of the shower to dry off. You pull on the pajama’s you’d left in here for after your shower that you thought you’d be taking alone while he simply wraps the towel around his waist, making it almost impossible not to stare at him as he waits for you.

You’re surprised when he leads you to his bedroom, changing into pajama’s of his own as you slide under the covers. They smell like detergent and the faint scent of Sakusa’s body wash, wrapping around you pleasantly—you take an indulgent breath, letting the scent soak into your senses. It gets even better when he joins you, hand resting on your bare arm, fingers drawing small circles against your skin. He gives you a soft kiss to the forehead, enjoying your freshly showered body against his beneath the sheets and your fingers in his hair.

“You know I honestly didn’t think you knew how to kiss,” you joke, tapping his chin, “With the mask and all.”

He peers down at you, the subtlest glint in his eyes as he replies, “Have I changed your mind?”

Your resulting cheeky smile makes his pants feel a little tight. “I think you might need to show me again.”

#haikyuu x reader #Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader #Sakusa x reader #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #sakusa scenario #sakusa imagine #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi scenario #sakusa kiyoomi imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

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pocketramblr · 3 years

Note

I've noticed after a while (and many posts) that you include Fuyumi-trying-not-to-resemble-her-mother in many of your tags, and I really want to hear your thoughts on that whole character dynamic. Or how you headcannon Fuyumi in general, I'd just like to know more and I haven't seen a lot of people delve into her character. It's always one of the brothers.

*vibrates at a totally normal speed* I would love to talk about Fuyumi yes

Warning: the following headcanons contain a decent bit of projecting. Is it me being a teacher? An eldest daughter? My complicated relationship with the idea of a "traditional family"? Probably all of it

First, if you don't mind a plug, I wrote a oneshot that has like 90 percent of all my fuyumi headcanons in it, The Walls Are Thin, and so. Obvious my headcanon that she's Touya's younger twin has been disproven but I like it a lot so,,, I don't care

So, there are some things about Fuyumi that didn't make it into the anime- manga!Yumi has blue eyes like Enji and Touya, and her arm was also bandaged in the flashback soccer scene when Shoto is talking about their abusive childhood which is very interesting to me.

Now, as for Fuyumi and Rei- I don't think Fuyumi hates her mother. I don't even think she hates her mother but is ok with full reconciliation like she is with her father. But I do think they have a very complicated relationship. Rei was institutionalized when Fuyumi was eleven, and from that moment on Fuyumi basically had to take over the raising of her brothers. Fuyumi lost her mother at eleven and then had to become one herself, because Rei burned her littlest brother.

Fuyumi was a child- and here's the thing. Rei's breakdown was sudden, but not surprising. She looked bad in the flashback right before it, she was begging her own mother for help. She looked sleep deprived and skittish. So even before Rei was sent away, I don't know how much she was actually mothering Fuyumi. Shoto can't really tell us that, and Fuyumi... Doesn't seem to want to think much on her past or give flashbacks to the two of them. So when Fuyumi is eleven, is ten, is nine- she's seeing this happen to her mother as a process. Rei is fading away, and Fuyumi is right at the age to actually begin to sort of understand it and be scared.

Shoto is aware that the marriage was motivated primarily to get a quirk like his. I see no reason that Fuyumi would be unaware of this ether, even when she was younger.

A lot of mental health problems can be hereditary- I remember my mother talking to me about her health history and her own mom's health history bc there's a looooot of problems there lol but Fuyumi didnt get that. She got to see her mother stuck in a hospital for a decade for a breakdown. She got to learn in school that those kinds of things can be passed down to children just like quirks. I'd bet anything that Fuyumi is terrified of having a breakdown like that. Of being like her mother- someone who cared for children that she couldn't protect from Enji for ten years or so, then being locked away when she finally snapped.

There's also her status as only daughter- besides the fact that all the wifely duties were put on her, there are still more expectations. Touya is dead, Natsuo is so ignored he didn't need to be disowned, Shoto is primed only to be one thing: the number one hero. Fuyumi, who has been mothering since she was eleven, would be looked to first for grandchildren.

This isn't to say that Enji ever expressed a single care about that- I doubt he did. But Fuyumi's grandmother was seen in some early flashbacks. I'm not sure if that was Rei or Enji's mother, but either way... Well, she'd certainly talk about how pretty she was. How sweet. How good to her brothers now that her poor mother is away. How obedient a daughter. And even if this grandmother doesn't talk about a quirk marriage explicitly, Fuyumi knows that she either raised a man who looked for one by the age of twenty, or was wholly complicit in her daughter getting one.

Even if, logically, Fuyumi knows her father wouldn't arrange her one- either because she's more useful at the house, or he doesn't pay enough attention, or he's going through a post Kamino character development- there's the fact that she also knows It's Not Impossible. She knows that if her family is as high up as it is and utterly rotten inside, there could be lots of people like that in their social circles. There could be someone who has that sort of interest in her.

Anyway, all that gives Fuyumi some very, very complicated feelings on motherhood and marriage. I don't think she wants either. Ever. She's a teacher, so she likes to work with kids- but we know a part of that is to make up for not being able to help her little brothers. She's full of guilt. I don't think she'd ever be interested in romance or anything else with a man, after seeing how it turned on and utterly broke Rei. And while I do sometimes have Fuyumi as lesbian, I also really think she might be aroace. This adds fun spice where she asks herself things like "wait is this just my trauma or my actual identity" and haha same I'm sorry I project on her a lot anyway sorry Fuyumi,,, you deserve a happy life. A normal life. But you don't get one ♥️

And the normal life thing- that's because Fuyumi is tired. She's tired of being a mother to her brothers. She's tired of having the responsibility of parenting without any of the power or control. She wants to be treated like a normal daughter and sister. And that can't happen if her brothers, esp Natsuo who she saw even more, keeps fully crediting his raising to her. Even if it's the truth, and even if Natsuo loves their mother and had no problem with her- he certainly wouldn't claim Rei influenced him more than Fuyumi did. That's why she's so desperate specifically for him to reconcile.

And she did see Natsuo more- but I think Fuyumi is also very close to Shoto. Closer than he thinks. Not just because her first two appearances are just her trying to protect Shoto by warning him when Enji is pissed off or when he will be, though that certainly helps- she's rather attuned to that stuff, and at least sorta used to Shoto sometimes listening to her about that kind of advice. But Shoto is being shaped deliberately to basically be Enji 2.0 . He has no choice but to be a hero. He has no choice but to train hard and get strong. He's supposed to beat All Might in a rivalry. All that stuff. Fuyumi, likewise, is shaped to be Rei 2.0. Take care of the children. Be soft. Not cut out for heroics. Not able to stop Enji from doing anything. Support Shoto. Cook. Clean. Take over when the housekeeper leaves, because why hire another one when there's a fourteen, fifteen, sixteen year old who can do it? Don't go to anyone for help, because no one who can help you will believe you or want to help you.

Shoto is supposed to succeed where Endeavor failed against All Might.

Fuyumi is supposed to succeed where Rei failed in going against Enji.

And all this, in a house where "like Rei" is an insult that her father shouts- to have her mother's constitution is a terrible thing. It's why her first two brothers were failures. Being "like Rei" means you are weak, and useless, and going to break down, going to be sent away.

And Fuyumi is supposed to be "like Rei", but without any of those bad parts.

Anyway wow this is such a long post.

That's why I think Fuyumi has a complicated relationship with her mother and with her appearance! If Fuyumi had been a boy, there always would have been a housekeeper there. She could have been a big brother- a big brother overly relied on, yes, but not a father. Fuyumi is not a boy. She is "like Rei." She is like Rei, who poured boiling water on a child because he had red hair, and a blue eyes.

So I think Fuyumi looks in the mirror, and sees red lines in her hair, and blue eyes behind glasses that neither of her parents need. And I think she keeps her hair shorter than Rei, and doesn't let it hang long like her mother prefers. And I think Fuyumi looks in the mirror, and sees that she's not just exactly like one or the other of her parents- and I think she says "thank God"

#.... that was really long #ahem #sorry i love fuyumi!!!#and you're right. no one talks about her enough #it's a lot about the brothers #and maybe fuyumi with her brothers #but not fuyumi and rei which really i think it's kinda the juicy one #sure rei 'left' the boys too #but she 'left' her responsibility to fuyumi and that's really different #i think long before Fuyumi decided to forgive Enji- or at least to move on with Enji- she decided to forgive/move on with her mother #in a way that was harder than Shoto forgiving her for one single incident #and very different from Natsuo who never needed to forgive rei #anyway!!! that's everything now i think.....#pocket talks to people #owlf45 #meta

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lunarliza · 4 years

Text

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter One: Blankets

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl?

You stared at the ticking clock among the sea of giggling preppy girls. Time had to be running in reverse. There was no way you still had an hour left.

“Alright ladies, let’s now form a single-file line and practice our curtsies,” the cotillion instructor, Linda, ordered. The over-privileged girls hurried to the end of the ballroom, one carelessly stepping over your foot. “Ouch!”

You glared at their backs and non-existent asses as they scurried, being the last one to sulk to your place behind a tall girl named Caroline. The leggy blonde snickered and leaned back slightly once everyone got into formation.

“You look like a beat up mule,” she joked.

You snorted and got on your tip-toes, muttering into her ear. “If I hear the words ‘prim and proper’ one more time, I might actually vomit on the spot.”

You both peered over to Linda who was busy adjusting some of the girls in the front with her annoying pointer stick. It was only a matter of time before she would eventually get to you and criticize, well, everything. Your posture, clothes, hair, attitude.

“If you do,” Caroline added, “make sure to get it all on Delilah in the front left. She totally swiped me for runner-up Miss Teen North Carolina last year.”

You chuckled and shook your head.

Caroline was probably the only thing getting you through these treacherous debutante lessons. She was your typical tall, thin socialite with a Benz and Prada collection to match. Ironically, you guys had more in common than one would think- hating just about every single girl in the room. It may be for different reasons, but the principle was there. Caroline was as competitive as they come and always had to be the center of attention, not that it was hard given her model height.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about becoming a high woman in society- evident in your ability to show up 20 minutes late to each lesson and royally screw up the dance number each chance you got. Caroline admired your talent of not giving a fuck and took a liking to you after you posed non-threatening to her spotlight.

You faked yawned and checked the clock once more.

“Alright I’ve had enough.” You held out your hand to Linda, causing the pageant girl in front of you to wrinkle her perfectly threaded brows. “Linda, I need to use the restroom,” you announced nonchalantly as everyone’s beetle eyes punctured you.

“Very well y/n,” the monotonous instructor answered with her thin-framed glasses hanging on her beak nose.

“See ya next week,” you sneakily whispered to Caroline. You proceeded to hop out of line, snatch your canvas bag at the entrance, and whisk out the door and into the busy street before anyone could see.

It was 3 p.m. on a Thursday afternoon. Your ferry left in an hour, and til then, you were ready to wander around the streets of Chapel Hill.

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

“How were lessons today?” your mother asked, taking a sip of her 1999 Vineyard Merlot before setting the glass on the black marble table.

“Fine,” you answered, picking at the halibut on your plate.

Her glasses were perched at the bridge of her nose as she scrolled through items on an iPad. You silently glanced over to your little sister, Macy, who slid her green beans onto your plate and threw you a thankful grin.

“What did you go over?” your stepdad, Ted, asked half-heartedly as he scrolled through his phone.

“Uh, we did some curtsies and practiced the dance,” was all you cared to mention as you munched on your sister’s veggies.

“That’s funny,” your mother lifted her eyes from the screen, “because Linda called and said you went to the restroom and mysteriously disappeared. And you were late.” Her tone was much more adamant at the second part, but your face stayed cool as you took another bite of the awful fish.

“There was backup when I left the ferry,” you lied and your mother rolled her eyes, tossing the iPad onto the table.

“Y/n, you need to take this seriously. Ted spent weeks trying to get you into those debutante lessons and we’re paying a fortune for Linda alone!”

“It’s not my fault she has a stick up her ass just like everyone else there,” you countered. Your mom was seconds away from fuming, so you decided to add a little extra fuel. “Also someone stepped on my foot with their heel so I had to rest it or else I wouldn’t be able to properly do the dance.”

“Enough of this, y/n,” your mother snapped at your terrible sarcasm. Macy and Ted stopped eating and watched you both with hints of concern. You didn’t understand why it was so startling to them. It was just any other Thursday evening with your mom if you were being honest.

“If I get another call from Linda, we’re taking away your keys.”

“Take them,” you said, stepping up from your chair and towards the kitchen. You tossed the half-eaten food into the trash and stuffed the plate into the dishwasher. “Not like I have anywhere better to be on this God-awful island.”

You rushed to your room upstairs and kicked the door shut behind you. You sank into your bed, face first, and let out the longest, dreadful groan into the comforter.

This was your life now. After almost a year, you would think that you’d adjust to this pretentious Kook life, but it only made you feel more stranded than ever. It started when your real parents announced their divorce a few years back. Both yours and Macy’s hearts shattered at the news. Your family lived perfectly in a tiny home until you turned thirteen. Your dad- the one who taught you how to ride a bike, swim, fish, and play poker- got a new job where he would go overseas for months on end. You hated not being able to see him and your mom hated it even more- enough to leave him. Your mom ended up taking full custody of you and Macy. Soon after, she met money-bags Ted, and, before you knew it, your bags were sealed packed as you sailed away to a fancy new home along Figure Eight complete with housekeepers, a pool, and etiquette lessons. It was supposed to be this “better lifestyle” your mother tried to paint into your head- but you saw right through it. No matter how green the grass or white the fence, you still felt like you were being locked up on an island you had no interest in exploring.

Making new friends was also a hassle- first coming in as a high school sophomore, and then not knowing how to engage in Kook-speak with the others. It’s not your fault you weren’t well-versed in luxury cars and handbags. You had one or two friends, but spent most of your days alone. It was well past midnight when you caught yourself drowning in your own self-loathing thoughts. A sudden tap on your window startled you as you turned to find a familiar blonde boy struggling to lift the glass. You watched, unimpressed, as he finally got it open enough to slide his lean body in and land straight onto your window seat.

“You’re late again, JJ,” you said, getting up to lock your door.

“Phone died and there’s a guard on duty, so I had to come in through the long way,” JJ stated, plopping himself comfortably on your bed.

He wore his usual fit- dark cargo shorts and a navy button-up with hardly anything buttoned. He reeked of weed and seawater, wearing a sleazy grin on his face. You wanted to swipe it off. Cocky bastard.

“For the last time,” you retorted, kicking his feet off your white blankets, “no shoes on my fucking bed.”

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” JJ snarkily replied as he slipped off his boots.

This was JJ: your fuck buddy. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly why you were involved with this delinquent of a boy, but he was enough piss off your mom and Ted- not that you would ever tell them. You didn’t know what it was about him, but causally sleeping with JJ made you feel more in control of your life. So, once or twice a week, you two would meet up, do the deed, and go your separate ways without a word. No strings, no feelings, hell, not even a friendship. And not a single soul knew. You both understood the terms of your agreement and will stand by it until the day you both die. “Are you just gonna stand there and stare or are we gonna get to clapping cheeks? I don’t have all night dude,” JJ nagged, interrupting you from your thoughts.

You flipped him off. “If someone showed up during their regularly scheduled time, I would have had a lot more energy.” You peeled off your cropped tee to reveal a lacy black bralette and climbed into his lap. His hands cupped the globes of your ass before sliding them into your shorts, mouth connecting with your neck.

“Let’s make this quick,” he added between short breaths, “I have to meet some friends in an hour.”

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

chapter two

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so-cool-day6 · 4 years

Text

ok here this suggestive n kinda smutty kevin thing

i'm absolutely no real writer so i apologize in advance lol

i wanna put some warnings to b safe, again ive never done this but i wanna do my best hshhsshshh

- slight degradation

- implied rlly rough sex

- mention of hair pulling

- color system

also i proofread this a million times but knowing me there's probably a million mistakes still, sorry

Never did I expect that "Jade" wasn't Jade at all.

Never did I expect that "Jade" was Kevin Moon undercover on deobi stan twitter.

Never did I expect that Kevin Moon would find my thirst tweets so hilarious that he wanted to hear more about them.

The moment Jade accidentally said "I" instead of "Kevin" in a message, I knew something felt fishy.

But he played it off so well, I soon forgot about it.

But those things just kept happening.

Sometimes it didn't take Jade very long at all to think up how Kevin would react to something.

Sometimes the answers seemed so extremely accurate, they could only have been from Kevin himself.

And when I finally put all the many pieces together?

Oh boy. I was pissed. And immensely embarrassed.

But not near as embarrassed as I know I'm about to be in a few minutes.

I'm only a few people away from going up to the fansign table to meet The Boyz.

I wasn't gonna come. I wasn't even gonna enter. I knew it would be far too embarrassing and humiliating to see Kevin in real life after all the explicit things I said about him, inadvertently directly to him.

But when your best friend begs you to enter with her, you enter with your best friend.

And when you and your best friend both win, and she begs you to go so she isn't alone... you go so she isn't alone.

She owes me big time for this one.

Thank goodness that Kevin isn't first...

As I talk to Jacob, Chanhee, Sangyeon, and Eric, I was glad to discover that, even if he shared every conversation we ever had, Kevin at least hadn't show any of them what I looked like.

But my conversation with Eric is ending, and Kevin is smirking, telling me that he has already noticed me.

Time to die, I guess.

I say goodbye to Eric, give him a high five, and move to the next seat in front of Kevin Moon.

"Well, well, well." He smiles. "Fancy seeing you here."

I try to laugh. "Yeah..."

"Why so shy? You weren't this shy on twitter."

"Yeah, when I wasn't talking to Kevin Moon."

"Ah, but you were. You were talking to Kevin."

I simply roll my eyes in response and look down at my hands, trying to keep my face from getting too red.

"Listen, I do wanna apologize. I shouldn't have manipulated you like that."

"It's okay... I can't blame you. If I were in your position, I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing. And there wasn't any real harm done, right? As long as it doesn't get out."

"Although, I must say..." His eyes darken. "I kind of liked hearing your thoughts about me. Especially in such detail." His hand lands on my thigh under the table and he feels me instantly tense up. He cracks a smile and chuckles. "I really do have an effect on you, don't I?" His voice is barely above a whisper, and his grip on my thigh tightens. "Just tell me if you want me to take my hand away and I will. Instantly. No questions asked."

"Okay." I think for a moment. Do I? Do I want him to move?

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for more of a response.

"I'll tell you if I do." I can feel my face heat up as I make my decision.

He smirks.

"I love how flustered you get." His thumbs slowly rubs the inner part of my thigh, thanks to his hand placement, and chills run up and down my back.

"Hurry up." A staff member says behind him, making sure the line doesn't get held up.

While Kevin's hand on my thigh isn't visible to the crowd, it IS visible to the staff. But they don't seem phased, nor do they seem to care.

Does Kevin have a habit of feeling up fans under the table or do they just wanna go home?

He leaves a cold spot on my leg as he pulls his hand away and quickly signs my album.

He answers the question post-it, which is actually a question from my Kevin-biased friend who couldn't try for a fansign slot, and then he flips the post-it up and writes something on the album page underneath the post-it.

"Move." The staff tells me. Kevin gives me a high five to look casual and throws me a wink as subtly as possible.

I continue on through the rest of the line, trying to keep my composure, especially when talking with Sunwoo and Changmin.

I may have said... a lot about them to Kevin.

A lot.

The fansign finally ends, and I don't remember Kevin writing something under the post-it note until the drive back to my friend's house.

"Hilton on Portico

Room 347

Should be back by 8

I'll have Q out of our room by 8:05

Hope to see you there"

No way.

No, he's kidding.

He's kidding right?

Did he just ask me to meet him in his hotel room tonight?

Why?

He doesn't want to... no.

No, that's impossible.

Why would he want to-

"Are you even listening?" My friend snaps me out of my thoughts and I quickly cover Kevin's message.

"Sorry, I spaced out... Can't stop thinking about meeting them, yknow?"

My hand raises to knock on the door, before I pull it back down.

8:06, my watch reads.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't be here, right?

This is insane...

Maybe he wants to lecture me.

Maybe he wants to yell at me.

Why would he wanna yell at me after what he did at the fansign, though?

I shake my head and raise my hand to knock again.

No matter why he wants to see me at his hotel room, he wants to see me at his hotel room.

It must be important.

I carefully knock, suddenly regretting all of my life choices as I wait for him to open the door.

What if Changmin is still in the room?

What if his manager is in the room?

What if he wrote down the wrong room number?

What if he was just trying to play with me all along, and they aren't even at this hotel?

The door swings open and Kevin's face lights up.

"You came..." He sounds shocked, as if meeting Kevin Moon in his hotel room isn't a dream to many, many people. "Come in, please." He opens the door wider and steps to the side, allowing me to walk into the room. "I'm sorry it's still a mess... we have to refuse housekeeping services and I just got Changmin to leave a couple minutes ago. I didn't have a chance to tidy up for you..."

"No, no! It's no big deal, no worries. If only you saw my house, it's way worse..."

We stand in silence for a bit, both of us unsure exactly what to do next, when suddenly I gain a boost of confidence.

"Kevin, why am I here?"

He looks at me with eyes full of... I'm not sure what.

Thoughtfulness?

"I don't know. Why are you here?"

"You don't know? You're the one who told me to come." I scoffed.

"I know. But why did you come? What were you hoping would happen if you came to my hotel room? Or should I say..." His eyes darken again, just like they had at the fansign, and he steps towards me and takes my hand in his. "What are you still hoping will happen?"

All breath leaves me.

"Maybe I can jog your memory. Were you maybe hoping that I would... pull your hair and pound you from behind like you're nothing but my sorry cumslut?"

A sharp gasp involuntarily leaves my body as he boldly quotes one of the first things I ever told Jade, word for word. I can feel his ego boost by the second.

"Or maybe it was something more along the lines of..."

Kevin places his hands on my waist and pulls my body flush with his.

"Fingering you roughly until you're shaking and crying and begging for me to stop... but I don't."

Again, he quotes my own sexual fantasy to me, every word correct. Except this time it elicits a soft moan.

I can feel him hard against me, and I can't help but look away towards the floor in embarrassment.

"Look at me."

I can't bring myself to obey his command, no matter how much I want to.

"I said look at me." He grabs my chin and turns my face towards his, his eyes slowly moving away from my eyes and down to my lips.

His eyes and voice all tell me that he's having a hard time holding back, but he has to ask something first.

"Have you ever heard of the color system?"

"Yeah." I whisper, which is about the only volume I can muster up in the moment. "Like a traffic light, right?"

"Right. What color are you on right now?"

"Green."

"And what color would you be on if I kissed you?"

"Green."

That's all the approval he needs to quickly place one hand on the lower back of my head and softly press his lips into mine.

That softness does not last long, as the kiss soon turns into a quite passionate make out.

We begin to migrate, lips still together, until our legs hit the edge of the bed and Kevin pulls away from me.

"Your fantasies aren't soft. And you've got such a hold on me, I can't promise to be either. I don't wanna do anything that makes you uncomfortable, upset, or negatively helpless. I want you to use the colors. Is that okay with you?" Somehow his continuous consent checks make him a hundred times sexier.

"I can do that."

"Don't hesitate at all to say any of the colors at any moment, if you feel you want to. Okay?" Yeah, the continuous consent checks are really sexy.

"Okay."

"Where are we at right now?"

"Green."

With that, he smirks and pushes me onto the bed, quickly crawling on top of me to reattach his lips to my own.

His beautiful hands begin to wander and feel my body. He finds my waistband and slowly slides his thumb under it.

I know he's taking it slow just in case I change my mind, which is very considerate, but it only makes me frustrated.

I push him away slightly with my hand.

"Can you hurry it up, Kev? You've had me wet since lunch." Is all i say before grabbing his shirt and pulling him back into me.

I can tell he's holding back some kind of reaction to what I just did.

His hand fully slides under my waistband, both of them, and he begins to slide his hand lower and towards the middle...

The embarrassment surrounding my encounters with Kevin are being replaced with thankfulness. Who would have thought that thirst tweets would land me in a hotel bed, getting fucked by Kevin Moon?

He's just made me cum for the third time.

First time with his mouth and fingers, then twice by railing me in two different positions.

He says yellow as he pulls out, and I nod.

We both need a breather.

He lays down next to me, both of us breathing quite heavily. I'm definitely breathing heavier, though. Curse his dancer cardiovascular health.

"So, what do you think we should-" Kevin is cut off by the sound of the door being unlocked with a key card, and his eyes go wide. He hurries to pull the blanket up over me, covering up my naked body from the view of whoever was coming in.

The fact that he doesn't care at all about his dick still hanging out loud and proud makes me wonder just how comfortable he is with all his members AND staff...

The person entering starts saying something in Korean, and all I can pick out is that he's addressing Kevin for something.

As the mystery person turns the corner and we meet eyes, both of us freeze for a moment.

Kevin scolds Ji Changmin in Korean, and Changmin responds, clearly upset at Kevin for something.

Kevin checks his phone and mutters an "oh".

"I'm sorry." Kevin turns to me. "I told Q to stay out until 10, thinking we'd be done by then... but I guess we've been having a little too much fun..."

The room reeks of awkwardness (and sex, but that's besides the point), until Changmin shyly raises his hand to wave at me.

"Hello. I'm Q."

I chuckle and wave back.

Kevin says something to Changmin. I'm unable to pick out any words to grasp at some sort of context before Changmin's eyes widen even further and he points at me, simply saying...

"Deobi?"

I nod.

Kevin's face suddenly turns devilish, and he starts talking to Changmin again.

I feel very out of the loop, but the way Changmin's face is turning beet red isn't making me optimistic as to what Kevin is saying.

"Kevin, what did you just tell him?"

Kevin keeps talking and Changmin's eyes dart back and forth from me to Kevin, and then I notice they glance down.

His grey sweatpants are not being very forgiving as to hiding his erection.

"Kevin!" I try a second time.

"What, baby? A man deserves to know what a sexy woman wants him to do to her."

I grab a pillow and throw it at him, hard, before hiding my face in the sheets.

Kevin apologizes in both English and Korean, and I hear Changmin giggle awkwardly.

Kevin says one last thing and I hear someone going through a suitcase.

I peek out from the sheets and see Changmin riffling through his bag, still replying to Kevin, before tossing something at Kevin.

Kevin thanks him, using one word of Korean I do know.

Changmin leaves, not before saying a kind goodbye to me, and Kevin turns to me.

"This might be fun, don't you think? If my memory is being kind to me, you've definitely mentioned me using one of these on you." He holds up the vibrator that Changmin threw at him.

What on earth does Changmin get up to on tour?

"Did he say anything about what you... told him?"

"He asked if you were gonna still be in town tomorrow. I sure hope you are, cause I said yes. And tomorrow it seems I'll be the one leaving the room all night... if you want to, of course."

I start getting wet again at the prospect.

"But don't think about him too much yet. I'm not done with you yet, baby." He clicks a button on the vibrator. "Green?"

"Green."

He looks at me like he's a hungry lion, before pouncing on me.

Rest time is over.

--------

THE UNGOLDY SCREECH THAT LEFT ME OMG THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN

"Somehow his continuous consent checks make him a hundred times sexier" IT'S TRUE. I'm not okay. My mind was babble the entire time, especially when Changmin walked in 🤤 the idea of it all... beautiful 😍 is it okay if I tag this a tbz smut? I think more people deserve to read this. I'll delete the tags if you want me to!

#still screaming #submitted #🗝 anon #tbz smut #the boyz smut #kevin moon #submission #tbz reactions #the boyz reactions

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nite-shay · 3 years

Text

His Hero Part 4 (Kirishima Eijirou x Reader)

A/N: I don’t know if I’m completely happy about this chapter. I’m trying to get better with witting panic/anxiety/non-humor, so hopefully, next time, it’ll be a little better. Also, sorry for the long time off and just sporadic posting. Works been hell, but now that we’ll hopefully *grain of salt* were getting more people hired, I’ll have more motivation and time to write

Warnings: Panic/anxiety , references to sex and/or sexual acts (nothing descriptive but suggestive) so I guess 18+? IDK how this works :/ If yer too young, offended by sex , sexual acts, sexual reference or don’t know where babies come from, please don’t read.

Word count: 3K

Other then that, please enjoy! :D

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

*****

Kirishima didn’t protest when Fat sent him home for the day.

‘Go home. Clear your head. Call me if you need anything.’

Honestly, he barely heard his mentor’s words. He just sat there staring at the screen. Watching, pausing, rewinding, and watching again. Over and over again. It wasn’t until Fat picked him up and carried him to the door, did he finally get the memo.

Yeah... he didn’t need to be here right now...

The trip home was nothing but a blur, and honestly, he remembered nothing about it. His body was on autopilot as his mind tried to wrap the possibility that he might have a kid.

A kid… A son… Your son… His son? But… How? Err… Wait!

Ok, he knows the ‘how’ of how kids are made.

Better phrasing, how could this have happened!? He was always careful with anyone he was with! Err, not that was a really long list or anything. Typically, he was only intimate with someone he’s known for a while, and when he was, he’d use a condom, or they were on the pill.

Oh fuck. How could he have let this happen!?!?

Calm down. Calm down.

Maybe he was just overthinking everything? It could just be a coincidence. Sure, he and the kid have some similarity, but hey, there’s like, billions of people on the planet! So some are bound to look alike! That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re related, right? Total chance! That’s it! It’s that stuff we learned in school. Static? No, that’s not right; that was in science. The other thing was in math...Statistics! Yeah, that’s it!

So what if the kid has red eyes? His best bud Katsuki does too!

The sharp teeth? Look no further than his gym bro Tetsu! Hell, depending on the quirk, it can be a super common trait!

The quirk being exactly like his... well, ok, that was… odd. And yeah, he hasn’t run into any with his quirk specifically, but, big but, it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there with his quirk!

Or maybe it’s not his quirk! Maybe its a similar one! Really, really, reeeealllly similar.

Total coincidence! Anyone can have those traits!

He just… happens to have all of them… just like the kid… whose mother he just happened to have slept with… around six years ago…

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!

The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him. The air got thinner, making it harder for him to breathe. He jumped off the couch and started pacing. He’s had issues with anxiety for years, and one thing he did learn, when he got like this, he needed to move.

Breath and walk. Breath and walk. Breath and….wait! The kid can’t be more than five! He slept with you six years ago! Ha! The time doesn’t match up! So he can’t be his kid!

His legs felt like jello as the waves of panic finally came to a halt, and took a deep, much-needed deep breath.

He wasn’t a father.

This was a good thing. A great thing!

He doesn’t have a kid. The time frame didn’t add up. He was in the clear.

He should feel happy. Relief. Ecstatic!

So why did he feel like he just got punched in the gut?

He sighed as he made his way to his fridge in search of something to calm his nerves. Beer isn’t his typical drink of choice, but he was glad he kept a few on hand in moments like this. Since he was single and didn’t have a roommate, his place was the place of choice for ‘bro’s night.’

Though sometimes, there was nothing like a cold one to just chill after a long hard day.

He grabbed one of the glass bottles by the neck, activated his quirk, and flicked the lid off with his thumb. Cool little party trick he learned a few years back.

As he tilted the drink back, he took a long hard swallow and let his mind wander. The beer of choice today was one Katsuki preferred. It was good, smooth going down, and less alcohol content. Which was fine. Ochaco, even after giving birth, still couldn’t stand the smell of alcohol. Pregnancy wasn’t a subject Kirishima knew a lot about, but he knew enough to respect it.

He’d seen her hauling ass many adays to the toilet of the slightest whiff of something she didn’t like.

Then the cravings came along, which prompted a few late-night trips to the store by Katsuki or himself if his bro was at work.

He chuckled as he thought about the few times Katsuki had said something to piss her off and sent him over to the redhead’s place for the night. Only to call him back a little while later in tears because of mood swings.

Towards the end was rough, though. She’d been put on bed rest and was in a lot of pain. Katsuki took fewer shifts during that time to stay home and help ease her in any way he could.

Damn, she went through all that for, what almost a year? Maybe not quite a year, but it had to be close.

Was it nine or maybe ten months?

His brain came to a screeching halt, mid-swallow as he started calculating.

Beer spewed out of his mouth and nose as he tried to breathe and swallow at the same time.

The nine months adds almost a year! *Cough* Meaning the kid’s age would make sense! *Cough Cough*

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It can’t be true, can it? He… He’d used protection… hadn’t he?

His mind raced as he thought back to that night six years ago.

It was Izuku’s birthday and his girlfriend, future wife Melissa, rented out a small private Terence at a hotel to celebrate. It was small, maybe fifteen people max: just some friends, family, and a few colleges of the green-haired hero.

He was having a few drinks while chatting with Denki and Hanta when he first saw you. That was when he first saw you… You were chatting with your Melissa and Izuku, and damn… he couldn’t stop staring at you. You were so beautiful, and the way you tried to hide your angelic smile every time you laughed made his heart skip a beat.

Eventually, his two friends figured out just what or who had caught his attention. Which brought on a relentless amount of teasing. It took about twenty minutes, a few beers, and an angry blonde for him to finally make his way over to you.

Katsuki, at some point, approached his childhood friend, then proceeded to yell at him for some reason or another. Even on his birthday, the guy couldn’t catch a break. Now that he thought about it, it was over something All Might related. Something about a suit and which version was from what era? You were looking rather uncomfortable (Melissa was used to this) at the aggressive (mainly Katsuki) debate. That’s where he came in. With the help of Ochaco and Melissa, he finally got the two distracted enough to send them to opposite corners of the party.

And then, he was left all alone with you.

He was so nervous that he even stumbled through his own name. Luckily, he played off his nervousness by making light of his two friends. To his surprise, you took his jokes in stride and even had a few comebacks of your own.

The two of you must have talked for over an hour! Just one conversation after another. He’d never met anyone like you before. You were just so loving, kind, and just… wow!

Then things start to get a little fuzzy.

He remembered talking, drinking, joking, more talking, and more drinking.

A weird memory of a drunk Denki yelling, “I swear to drunk I’m not God!” before face planting into the punch bowl.

Then while everyone’s attention was on Denki, the two of you snuck away and back to his room.

A makeout session on the elevator leads to the two of you missing his floor and shocking an elderly housekeeping lady. That was embarrassing but didn’t seem to stop the two of you.

Then things get really, really blurry, but somehow the two of you made it back to his room without any other incidents.

While the rest of his memories were bits and pieces, but he… did remember the most of the ‘activates,’ and it’d been consensual, and yeah… he’d definitely used protection! That much he remembered!

The next thing he knew, it was the next morning, where he woke up alone, with a hangover, and felt better than he had in awhile.

Too bad that feeling didn’t get to last. His phone rang not long after he woke up. It’d been work, a villain was causing trouble, and they needed him asap.

He showered, dressed, grabbed his stuff, and left.

Then… he’d gotten hurt… bad…

Ended up in the hospital for nearly a week.

After he got out, he, well, had an interesting voicemail and charge on his credit card.

He blushed hard as he remembered the hotel’s message regarding the ‘damages’ done to the room. In particular, the ones done to the sheets and headboard. They even sent him pictures!

Damn, he couldn’t believe he lost control of his quirk like that. He hadn’t done that since… well, since his ‘first time.’ That was so embarrassing. Thankfully, he didn’t think he’d hurt you in the process. Of all the pictures and list of damages, blood-stained sheets weren’t listed. Maybe that’s why he never worked up the courage to reach out to you. Even if he didn’t hurt you, he might have scared you...

Wait….

He lost control of his quirk.

Oh… OH SHIT! Realization dawned on him.

Even if he had put a condom on, his quirk might have damaged it!

Then that means… there is a chance he's the father of your son!

FFFFFUCCCCKK!!!!

But wait.

If he really was your son… why haven’t you contacted him?

His footsteps slowed until he came to a standstill.

You would have told him if he was, wouldn’t you?

Granted, the two of you never exchanged numbers, and we’ll it’s not like he did much to reach out to you either, but… You would have known he’s friends with Izuku, so you knew a way to contact him.

Two-way street, buddy. He internally lashed himself.

Between racking his brain and scolding himself, he didn’t hear the knock on his door until the visitor started pounding.

“Oi! Shifty hair! Answer the damn door!” A loud, brash voice that could only belong to one person yelled through the abused door.

Katsuki? Why was he here?

Kirishima hurried over to the door before the blonde got too impatient and blew it down… again. He took a deep breath and put on his brightest and cheerful grin before opening the door to greet his grumpy best friend.

“Oh hey, Bakubro, what’s up?”

“Don’t bro me! Why the hell am I getting called from your boss to check up on you?” He growled.

“Fat called you?” That was a surprise.

“Yeah, he did. Had to switch my patrol around and everything.” He brushed past the redhead, letting himself in. Kirishima sighed as he shut the door behind them.

“I’m really sorry about that. Not sure wh-”

“Don’t start that bullshit with me.” Those fierce red eyes locked on to him. “And drop that fake ass smile. Always hated when you did that shit.” He mutters.

Damn, Fat just had to go and call him of all people.

If it’d been anyone else, anyone at all, he could play this off. A bright grin, crack a joke or two, maybe a few reassuring words, and he could send them on their way.

But not him. No, not Katsuki. Most people wouldn’t in a million years think the aggressive blonde could show anything other than anger. And yeah, the guy was rough around the edges, and he wasn’t the best with words. But nonetheless, here he was.

And sometimes, that’s all that mattered.

Fuck.

“So why am I here?” Katsuki wasn’t backing down, so Kirishima took a deep breath.

“What did Fat tell you?” While his smile didn’t waver, he felt his stomach belly flop to the floor.

“Bastard would spill it, just said you’d need me right and to get over here. Now what the fuck is going on?” While he still sounded angry, there was an underline concern in his tone that most people tend to miss.

Who would have known that would be the thing to make him crack? Well, obviously, Fatgum knew, hence why he sent the blonde over. The great explosive hero was one of the few people that could blow a hole right through his hardened armor.

Both figuratively and literally.

With tears in his eyes, he dropped his bright grin and let the damn of emotion bust. He explained everything that had happened. The robbery, the hospital, you, your son, the night he first met you, the security footage, everything! Hell, he was sure he went into a little too much detail when he described you and that night.

The blonde just stood there shell shocked as he tried to absorb the word vomit hurled at him.

“S-so, yeah… I might… have a…” he couldn’t finish. He just let the silence hang between them.

“You… dumbass.” He sighed quietly, running his hand through his hair before looking him right in the eyes. While his best friend was known far and wide to have a temper, when shit got real, it was eerie how calm and focused he was. “Are you sure he’s your?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean-”

“Have you talked to the mother?”

“N-No!”

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” He pressed. “Does anyone else think you’re the father?”

“No! Well, Fat might, but that’s cause he was with me when I put the piece together. But I haven’t told or asked anyone else about this. Honestly, other than the mother, I don’t even know who else to go-” The redhead piped up. Something flashed in his friend’s eyes, and for a moment, he looked like he was ready to commit murder. Fuck was he made? He hadn’t come to him about this yet!? Of course, he was! He was finding this out because his boss called him, not because he had called him! Some friend he is... “I was totally going to call you about this! I swear! You’re my best friend. This just happened so suddenly!”

“I know you would, Ei. Chill.” The blonde’s features soften for a second, soothing the redhead some. But he could tell Katsuki was trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m not mad at you but, I’ll ask again. Does anyone else know about this?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I only found out about this today, and I haven’t had any contact with (Y/N) since the other day and well at Izuku’s birthday party.”

“Ok. Stay here for a bit. You need to calm down. We need more information first. If he isn’t your kid, you’re losing your shit for nothing. And if he is... well,” He paused, “Cross that bridge when you come to it.” He pushed the hero towards the couch and made him sit down. “I need to make a phone call.”

Kirishima blinked as his best friend made his way towards his front door. “NOW SIT THERE. SHUT UP AND CALM DOWN!”

*SLAM*

This was a new level of anger for the blonde. He couldn’t stand seeing the redhead like this. He felt even worse, leaving him alone like this. The damn guy lived off socialization with others, so for him to be facing this alone.

Yeah... it really pissed him off.

The blonde stomped his way back to his apartment, which was just a few doors down. He did need to make a phone call; he hadn’t been lying. But it was a call, that big, dense red rock didn’t need to hear.

Fuck. He couldn’t believe this. Did shitty hair really have a kid?

Katsuki made his way inside his home. The home he shared with not only his wife but his newborn daughter.

Fuck. He has a kid… and he never even knew.

As he made his way through the foyer and into the living room, something caught his eye. Something black, orange, green, and tiny laid on top of a basket of unfolded laundry. It was the custom design onesie Momo had gotten for their daughter as a baby shower gift. The custom design was made to look like his hero costume. While he scoffed at the thing initially, he made sure that she wore home from the hospital.

Well, tried. About halfway through the hospital parking lot, she decided now was the best time to need a diaper and outfit change.

Little brat. He smirked.

If you’d ask him a few years ago what he thought of kids, he would have brushed it off, not really caring about it. His hero career was his focus. He needed no had to be number one.

But now that he has a little one of his own, he realized there was more to life than being number one. Was he still going to do it? You bet your ass, but now that he has his wife and his child that climb to the top well, he couldn’t dream of making it there without them.

He couldn’t imagine a world without her. Let alone a world where he didn’t realize she existed.

He whipped out his phone and thumbed through his contacts.

Especially if someone knew about them.

He took a deep breath and hit send.

Someone close to not only the kid but himself.

And still not tell him.

He knows. There’s no way in hell that precipitative little shit doesn’t know!

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

“K-Kacchan. This is a surprise. You never call. Is everything-” Katsuki cut him off.

“We need to talk. Now.”

****

Links: Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

Tags: @hot-pocket01 , @simpforeveryone , @remember-happy-things

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drreidfics · 3 years

Text

Dr. Reid and the Broken Girl pt1.

DR. REID AND THE BROKEN GIRL (Working Title)

Characters : SpencerReid x FemReader

Warnings : Abuse, Hints of Self Harm.

CAUTION // TW // THIS BOOK DEALS WITH MATURE CONTENT SUCH AS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, SEXUAL ASSULT, SELF HARM, MENTAL ILLNESS AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE. IT ALSO INCLUDES A LOT OF RATED-R MATERIAL. IF THIS IS TRIGGERING OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE THEN PLEASE DON’T READ.

Here I am again, on the floor, begging him to stop. There he is again, laughing at my pleas and forcing himself inside of me. Almost every night he climbs into my bed, then in the morning, he pretends everything is normal. When anyone is around, he acts charming. He is able to trick everyone into thinking everything is fine. Well, it's not.

My phone buzzed to life at the side of me. The alarm was going off but I had been up for hours, staring at the flecks of dust dancing around the air. The sunlight streamed in through my thin, white drapes. It was beautiful out. It was the middle of May and bound to be hot out in Arizona. I could feel the warmth on my skin already. I needed to shower and get all this sticky sweat off my skin. It wasn't even mine. I felt disgusting. His touch lingered everywhere on me. The bruises he gave me stained my skin more than the self inflicted cuts.

'Morning Ms. y/l/n. Last night was lovely. See you at lunch?'. It was a text from Mr Reid. He was my psychology professor. Older than me, at thirty, he had long dark hair and deep brown eyes. His hair curled slightly at the end. He was tall and slim. Smart and nerdy, having two degrees and a doctorate, he left his job at the FBI for something less mentally draining. He had worked there since he was twenty-two. I was twenty-one making our age gap quite small. Look at me, trying to convince myself that it even mattered. He was a lovely guy. Friendly, and handsome. He wouldn't fall in love with a student, and if he did, that student would never be me. He was too smart for that.

"Morning Dr. Reid. Thank-you for taking me. It was a fun eve! Yes, see you at lunch. We can have a chat about the stuff we saw yesterday =)". I read the message over and over again before hitting send. I was nervous as I usually always say stupid things. My low self esteem affected me very much. I was twenty-one, already with one degree and going back to do another. I was still living at Sharon's and I haven't had a boyfriend. He texted me back instantly.

"Can't wait! Need a lift to school? =)" I smiled down at my battered iPhone 6. I couldn't afford a brand new phone. I was lucky in that I only had to work a few hours a week at the local book store and that it was something I enjoyed doing. Sharon was good to me. She helped me pay for and make my way through college. I don't know what or where I would be without her. On the other hand, she brought the human spawn of the devil into my life.

"No thnx, Luna is picking me up =)" I sent but then instantly regretted it. I love my best friend but I would have preferred a ride with Dr. Reid. Our conversations were always interesting and insightful. We could talk about a wide range of subjects for hours and it would only feel like minutes passed.

"Ok, see u soon Y/N"

I smiled, almost forgetting my problems before catching glimpse of myself in the mirror. My fragile, battered body stared back. I sighed. He could never find a girl like me attractive. Not that it mattered anyway. Silly little girl crush.

After debating whether it was best to just find the nearest bridge in town and throw my self off or get ready for school (I am very mentally unwell), I decided on the latter. Luna had already texted me to inform me that she was about to set off. Knowing Luna, which I have had the pleasure of knowing for fifteen years (no sarcasm in there), ten minutes would be ten years.

I staggered down the dreaded stairs, almost losing my footing a few times, feeling light headed. I entered the brightly lit kitchen. It was so bright that I could feel an aching behind my eyes. The decor was simplistic, all white with gold features. Classic business mom who is never home asthetic going on.

Sharon sat at the island, face absorbed in her laptop. She was in her late forties with short, mousey hair. I believe she would be referred to as a 'Karen'. She looked nothing like Dom. She was short, like me, and fairly slim. He was tall and muscular with broad shoulders. Quarterback star player with the strength to show for it. He could snap us both in half. Dominic is Sharon's only child. Yes, that is correct. She is not my mum. I lost her.

Sharon looked up at me, flashing me a warm smile, still bashing the keys to her MacBook. She took a sip of her black coffee, nibbling on some cold toast. "You look like shit" she stated; matter of factly, her face blank. '"Thanks?'" I answered with a raised eyebrow. I walked over to the coffee machine and put in a pod, sticking my travel cup underneath. 77Kcals of goodness. All the fuel I will need this morning. "Sweetheart, don't act like that. You know I'm just saying. You need to sleep more" '"I know" I sighed. It was true... "But that makes two of us" I retorted cheekily with a grin. "Oh sweetheart, don't I know it" she raised her cup as if toasting the comment before gulping the last bit of coffee.

Sharon was my guardian, though not anymore as I was an adult and of drinking age. She still cared for me though as if I were her own. My mom died when I was seven and my dad had a breakdown. He couldn't cope. One day I came home from school and he was gone. He didn't say a word to anyone. He packed up his stuff and left me. I hated him for a while. The anger within me burned to my core. After a while I felt sympathy. He didn't get the help that he needed. If he did then we both wouldn't be in this mess. We'd be happy - together. I doubt he would know how to contact me now.

Aunt Sharon took me in. She wasn't really my aunt, she was my mom's best friend. She was the only connection to my mother that I had left besides her wedding ring. She loved her dearly and I believe she loves me dearly too. It's not her fault she can't protect me. She works herself to death trying to help me live my dreams. Dom wasn't the child that she had always wanted. He is doing nothing with his life. That is something I will alway's respect of her, single mom raising her child and somebody else's.

I loved her, though she did have the tendency to dish out tough love which often was way - way too harsh. And she was always away leaving me with him. I knew that if I'd only just tell her what he was capable of... What he would do to me when she left... She'd have murdered him herself with her bare hands. But it would kill her. I couldn't do that to her. He was the only thing she had who was blood. Me, I had no-one.

"shit! Is that the time? I'm going to be late. I gotta go, honey. Say bye to Dom for me." she pleaded as she stuffed the last slice of toast in her mouth and gathered her briefcase and her keys. " ...And make sure you have something to eat. You're wasting away!" "Have a good day at work Shaz" I shouted after her. I doubt that she heard me. She was out the door in seconds, jangling her keys and fighting between speaking with me and the ringtone on her work mobile. I heard her professional, scripted 'Hello, Sharon Cormack speaking' as the door slammed behind her.

I made my way through the spotless kitchen Gina, Sharon's housekeeper, always did a good job. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the integrated refrigerator. I also grabbed my iced latte from the coffee machine. It was almost half eight. My first classes start at nine and Luna still wasn't anywhere in sight. I scrambled through my purse for my phone, ready to give her a piece of my mind. That girl would be late to her own funeral.

"You're up early" a voice from behind me sneered. It took all my might to not to curl up in a ball, trembling.

"I... I have school"

No reply. I felt him creeping up behind me, felt his breath against my neck.

"I can think of something much better to do with the day baby" he whispered as he planted acid kisses on my neck. It burned. I squeezed my eyes shut, putting my hands up defensively. He pushed my back into the counter. A sharp pain ran though me.

"Please stop. I have to go" I whispered as his hand snaked its way up my neck, fist knotting tightly in my hair.

'"Why do you think a whore like you has the right to tell me what to do, hm?"

'- Hello? Katy?' Luna's smooth voice called out in sing song.

Oh, thank god for her and her timing. He released me from his grasp and increased the distance between us. His eyes were clouded. I could tell he was pissed. I brushed passed him, running towards Luna, who was standing by the open door. I ran straight into her arms hugging her tightly.

"I thought you'd never show." I whispered. She rested her chin on my shoulder, stroking my hair. I could tell that she was staring daggers at Dom and I could tell he didn't care. Like I said, the same routine. Every morning.

By the time lunch rolled around I had had enough. had gotten into a lot of trouble with Ms. Hallows over an overdue assignment and I had spilt water all down the front of my jeans. It looked like I had pissed myself. My saving grace is that they were dark jeans and so it wasn't too noticable. That didn't stop Georgie from laughing and calling me pissy pants for half the day.

Georgie was the kind of girl that you would avoid in high school. Everybody wanted to be her but everyone hated her so bad. She had golden brunette locks, a slim face and a petite nose. Her friends Nova and Ari were just as bad. Everyone used to tell you that when you left high school things would be different. I am sorry to inform you that they don't. Bullies stay bullies forever.

I forced my way through the groups of students, crowded together in the corridors. The last thing I wanted was to be late for my chat with Mr. Reid

"Y/N" I heard Luna calling after me. I could tell that she was chasing me through the crowd of students. "Y/N. Look, Y/N stop." I rolled my eyes.

"What?" I snapped. I could see the hurt in her eyes. She leaned on the wall, panting. I sighed. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?" I asked. I felt bad for snapping at her. All she wanted was answers, like anyone would have after walking in on what she did. But I don't give answers. I shut down. I don't tell anyone anything. She tried talking once we got in the car. I ignored her and I ran once we'd arrived at school. She didn't even need to speak. I could just tell what she wanted to talk about from the look on her face. I sighed again.

"Luna, I can't talk about this right now." I saw the hurt in her eyes. If I kept pushing her away then eventually she wouldn't fight to stay. 'Good', a small voice whispered in my head. Maybe that would be for the best. She deserves better. Everyone does. I could just end my life today and nobody would care. I used to fight hard against the suicidal ideations that entered my mind but now I didn't see the point.

"I have my meeting and I can't be late. Taco Bell after classes?" I asked. To my relief, she smiled and nodded, that beautiful smile that I loved so much. She was so easy to please. I smiled and walked away towards room 1980. Dr. Reid's office.

"I love you!" she shouted after me smiling.

"I love you more!"

"Lesbians" Georgie mocked. She was stood near the bathrooms. I rolled my eyes.

"Grow up"

Luna was gay but we weren't together. We had been intimate a few times but nothing had come of it. But so what if it had? We both agreed it felt weird as we had known each other as friends for so long. We didn't want to ruin anything. Luna and I had been friends ever since she opened up my juice box for me in kindergarten and then hit the girl who had stolen my straw. We had been inseparable ever since. She's been with me through thick and thin. I'd hate to think where I'd have been if she hadn't been there when my mom had died. We are and will alway's be the best of friends. In another life I could see us growing old together, adopting puppies and children but sometimes, it doesn't work out. And if you love someone, you have to let them go.

I opened the door to 1980 and as soon as I did my heart fluttered in my chest. There he was, as beautiful as ever. He looked up from the book he was reading, glasses perched on his nose and smiled, he seemed glad to see me.

"Sweetie!" he said, a smile spreading across his gorgeous lips. He's the only person who calls me that.

"Dr. Reid" I smiled back. My smile was huge and I probably looked so dorky but I don't care. My day just got brighter. I pulled up a chair next to him and kicked my feet up onto his lap. He rested his hand on my calf.

"So what did you think to the book?"

#drreid #spencer x reader #spencerreid #spencer reid #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid story #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #mature #fic #reader x spencer reid #wattpad #wattpad fanfic #teacher x student #college professor smut #professor x student #professor x reader #teacher x reader

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solastia · 4 years

Text

Shadow Of You | 2

Pairing: Seokjin x Jungkook

Summary: Alpha Seokjin is sixteen when his best friend’s baby brother is born. When he finally gets to visit and meet the new baby Jungkook, he’s dismayed to discover the infant is his true mate. Or: Seokjin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Long Wait For His Mate.

Seokjin bounded down the stairs of his family’s entirely too large house with his backpack slung off one shoulder. His hair was still damp as he’d rushed through getting ready and his clothes were thrown on without a thought. He hadn’t even had enough time to finish up his homework this morning like he’d been hoping.

“Where do you think you’re going without breakfast?”

He grinned sheepishly at the old housekeeper as he stuffed his feet into his shoes.

“Sorry, Yeona. I’m going to be late as it is.”

She sighs and offers up an apple she had in her apron, obviously having expected such an answer.

“At least eat this. It should tide you over until your first break. And stop staying up so late. You look thin and ragged. Do I have to move in to make you behave?”

Seokjin chuckles, having heard the same threat since he was a young boy.

“But Yeona, I have to study well so I become a doctor someday and can steal you away!”

“Oh, off with you. Have a good day. I’ll make your favorite for dinner tonight, alright?”

He cheekily saluted her and munched on the apple as he rushed to his car, finishing the fruit in just a few bites and throwing the core in a random bush for the gardener to find later. His poor stomach wasn’t happy with just a few bites of fruit, but hopefully, it would hold off until he had a chance to sneak off the grounds and get himself a real meal.

His phone was already rumbling with a barrage of messages, probably from Hoseok complaining that he’d had to walk to school since he’d never showed. He felt bad, but he’d hadn’t even been sure he was going to go to school today since he was just coming off of the most horrible rut in his life - never mind that it had only been his second.

After the life-changing visit to the Min household, Seokjin had rushed home, expecting to shut himself in his room to think about things. However, his body had decided to take matters into its own hands and he’d been horrified to feel himself going into his second rut - three months too early.

For once he’d been thrilled about the fact that Yeona had the weekends off and that his parents were at an event in Jeju. While it probably would have been safer to have someone around to check on him, he was glad he hadn’t had to explain why he was in so much agony. Why he refused to touch himself - instead curling up and sobbing as his body wracked with pain.

As someone who actually paid attention during his science classes due to his future career, he knew that it was simply his body's way of preparing itself since he’d found his mate. And since there was no mate around to sate him, his body increased its demands and he’d been forced to deal with high fevers, horrible cramping, and vomiting. He probably would have been able to reduce the severity with a couple rounds with his own hand, but it felt horribly wrong considering what had triggered it in the first place.

Jin drives with the radio off for once, the silence forcing him to finally think about his situation. And the honest to God truth was that he had no idea what to do. He’d never heard of anything like this happening before. He didn’t even know how to start looking for the information he needed.

When he was being realistic he’d always thought he’d never even find his true mate. It was becoming a rare thing for anyone these days. He’d pictured his life looking pretty much exactly like his fathers - marry someone his parents picked and work at the hospital until he was forced to retire. If he was lucky like them, he’d at least become friends with his mate and maybe pop out a pup before they start a life of celibacy (hopefully. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if his parents had others).

Now...what kind of life could he have, always being drawn to something he couldn’t have? Now that he’d scented his true mate, had skin to skin contact as he’d held him in his arms, his body was going to be thoroughly fucked.

The horrible ruts were just going to get worse for at least a couple of years before his body would finally accept the loss. His scent was going to spike enough that he’d probably have to start showering several times a day and practically smother himself in scent masking products.

Worst of all, if he decided to just move on with his life and let his parents assign him a mate, no bite would ever take. He could marry and produce pups just fine, but he’d never be able to officially mate anyone else in the traditional sense. That would be a big deal-breaker for a lot of people.

Even in this modern world, the wolf and their instincts were still held in high regard. Being married without being mated would be looked at as taboo by his family and their circle, right up there with him mating a beta or becoming a janitor.

Jin sighed as he pulled into the school’s parking lot and finds Yoongi standing there with his arms crossed, giving him no chance of escaping unless he drove off and skipped school entirely.

Jin was many things, but a total coward he was not.

He grabbed his bag and slid out of the car, pasting a grin in his face that he hoped would pass for authentic even under the shrewd eyes of Min Yoongi.

“My darling Yoongichi, were you waiting for me? Chivalry isn’t dead!” he says dramatically, heading straight for the school building and ignoring Yoongi’s grumbles as he tries to catch up to him.

“Don’t give me that. I’ve been trying to call you all weekend. What’s going on?”

Jin shrugs, going for nonchalance, even as that subtle fragrance clinging to his friend began to call to him. “I guess all the stress from school got to me. Went into rut early.”

“Really?” Yoongi clucks in sympathy. “That sucks. Wait...weren’t your parents gone? You spent your rut alone?”

Jin waves away his worry. “I was fine. Some mild cramping. Five packets of beef jerky and a few rounds with myself and my Kumi Koda poster and I’m good to go.”

“You’re gross,” Yoongi groans as he pushes past him to open the door to their first class, which happened to be together.

He was incredibly happy to slide into his first period for once, as that teacher was notorious for not allowing talking and making everyone turn in their phones before class. For now, he was free from any more questions and could simply focus on his shitty schoolwork in peace.

Until lunch, that was.

And when it came around, the nerves roiled in his gut but he sat in his usual spot anyway. He watched his friends quietly as they all settled in like a pack of hyenas on a sugar rush. Yoongi settles into the spot right across from him and Jin nearly groans because that scent is still on him. Understandable, considering. Was he ever going to be able to eat strawberries again without thinking about how fucked up his life was?

“What about you, hyung?”

He snapped to attention when Hoseok jabs him with his elbow. “What?”

“We are heading over to shoot hoops at the park then have dinner at Yoongi’s.”

“Oh, ah,” he stammers, scratching the back of his head as he searches for a way out. “I was going to work on my biology project. Really big deal. At least forty percent of my grade, you know?”

“You can do it there,” Yoongi says with a shrug. “Ma has been asking about you, and you know if you make her wait much longer she’ll kidnap you.”

And that was the heart of his dilemma because the Min household was basically his real home, and he longed to be there. Ached for the feeling of belonging and acceptance that the family gave him. But he also knew that all of it would fly away if they learned the truth.

“Besides,” Yoongi continues after swallowing his food (the only one of his friends that actually bothers to do that by the way), “She’s been really worried since last time. She said she had a feeling she knew what was wrong but she wouldn’t tell me. Like having a rut is something to be embarrassed about,” Yoongi scoffs.

Jin’s nerves went wild. Did she know? Mama Min knew? He supposed she had been closer to him at the time so she would have seen his eyes, and he had growled at her but...shit. He was so fucked. She only wanted him to come by so she could warn the destined pervert away from her son.

But...he supposed he should go. Just one last time. One last moment to soak in as much of that feeling of home as he could get before he was banished. And now that the initial imprinting and rut had passed, he’d even be able to look at him without losing his mind. So maybe he’d take the chance to apologize to Jungkook too because he was going to grow up longing for something he couldn’t understand and unable to bond properly all because fate had chosen poorly for him.

He sighed and pushed around the food on his plate. “I’ll go.”

“Great, hyung. Ma will be happy and stop blowing up my phone.” Yoongi smiled gummily at him.

That seemed to be the end of it, as they all went back to eating and talking over each other about video games. Listening to them made Jin feel ancient, despite the fact that just last week he had nothing better to talk about than video games himself.

The rest of the day went by much too quickly. All of his teachers seemed to be in great moods and willing to cut classes early or assign easy work, so there wasn’t much to keep Jin’s mind occupied. He declined to play basketball with the others afterward because he felt the overwhelming urge to go home and get prepared to go to the Min’s.

It wasn’t until he noticed that he was wearing Burberry from head to toe and had spent twenty minutes styling his hair that he realized he’d been primping for his mate. For an infant that would be more likely to vomit or piss on the outfit than admire the cut or pattern. He scoffed aloud, practically hating his wolf at that moment.

“Get used to disappointment, you bastard,” he muttered wryly.

Still the wolf wouldn’t settle. Jin drove with gritted teeth, wondering what his instincts were screaming at him to do now. It wasn’t until he passed a shopping center and he nearly crashed into someone trying to control his arm from turning the wheel that he understood. Shopping? Why the fuck did he want to go shopping?

The urge grew until stopping abruptly, letting Jin’s mind clear.

Oh! The bastard wanted to bring a courting gift. Not in this lifetime, buddy.

He breathed with mingled relief and wariness when he finally pulled into his usual spot at the Min household. He saw all the scooters and skateboards laying in the lawn that meant his friends were already here.

He gulped and climbed out of his car, walking towards the door with an odd sense of deja vu. It was just a few days ago where he made this same journey that changed his life forever.

He stared at the door, suddenly wondering what to do. Normally, he barged in like he had the right to...but did he any more?

The choice was taken from him when Yoongi flings the door open and scowls at him like he’d just grown three heads.

“Why the hell are you just standing there, weirdo? Come in already.”

“Yoongi, be nice!” Came the familiar command from the living room.

“Yes, Ma,” Yoongi grumbled as he closed the door behind Jin and waited for him to take his shoes off.

They walked together towards the living room as Jin tried to control his racing heart. He was so nervous but his wolf finally seemed content with that strawberries and cream scent filling his nose like a balm.

The moment they walked into the living room, Mama Min pierced him with a meaningful look. Then she turned and handed Jungkook to Hoseok.

“Take him into Yoongi’s room and you guys hang out in there for a bit. I just want to check on Jin without you guys hearing a bunch of embarrassing questions.”

They all chuckled, having dealt with the same concern after one of their own cycles. Jin eyed the bundle in Hoseok’s arms warily, both wanting to run from it and to protect it from Hoseok's too loose grip.

“Seokjin,” Mama Min said softly, bringing his attention back to her.

She was...crying? Was she going to kick him out right away then?

She held out her arms and thickened her scent, the comfort and reassurance she was exuding exactly what he’d needed.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

He keened and ran towards her arms, letting her pull him close. She rocked him as he finally cried for the first time since it happened. He could feel the wet droplets as she joined him.

“Oh, you sweet boy. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry,” she crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t do anything. I won’t do anything! I promise!” he cried hysterically, desperate to keep her from ever looking at him with disgust. “I can stay away from him, I will.”

“Oh, darling boy. I know you would never do anything you shouldn’t. I’m just sorry it’s like this,” she said softly, cradling his cheeks to make him look up at her. “I always knew that you were meant to be a part of this family, but this seems like such a high price to pay for it. I wish I could have had him sooner for you.”

“What do I do now?” he asked softly, sniffling.

She sighed and pet his cheek. “I don’t really know, Jinnie. I’ve never heard of this before. I suppose your parents don’t even know about this yet?”

He shook his head. “No. They’re not even home right now.”

Her eyebrow raised in shock. “But...Kim Seokjin! Did you just have a rut all alone in that mausoleum of a house?”

“Uh, yes? Yeona is off weekends and my parents were out of town so I had no choice. BUT! I didn’t do anything! I swear! I just slept a lot and I swear I didn’t think anything bad.”

He clutched at her as he swore, and her eyes softened even as they filled with more tears.

“Hush, sweet thing. This is an...odd and difficult situation, but I like to think I know you well enough to know you’re trying your best. I’m not going to automatically think you’re feeling...things...for an infant. If anything, your alpha should just be feeling super protective of him, and judging by the way you growled at me last time, I think it’s safe to say you are.”

He cleared his throat with embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”

She waved it away. “It’s alright. You can’t help it.”

The conversation lulled to silence after a few moments, with him simply enjoying the way she was petting his hair.

“Mama Min?” he finally asked softly.

“Yes?”

“Should I...um...do you want me to stop coming by now?”

She sighed and tilted his chin up to face her.

“No. You are always welcome here, sweetheart. Always. I trust that not only will you be able to control yourself, but that I will be able to be a fair judge of whatever is going on.”

She waited until he nodded in acknowledgment. “However, if at any time it becomes too hard for you to be here, know that we understand and will love you no matter what you decide. If you think it’s better to stay away, that’s fine. I’ll still expect you to write, call, send a pigeon. Whatever. We won’t be upset if you decide to find a mate your own age and move on with your life. You deserve to. No one will judge you for not waiting for eighteen years for a mate. That’s unrealistic and unfair.”

He nods and looks down. “Does Yoongi know? He’ll be pissed.”

“Not yet. I’ll tell him tonight after you all leave. I think he’ll take it better one on one. But you know him. He’ll take the night to process it and then he’ll be angry at you for two days because you thought he’d get mad at you, not because of the situation.”

That much was true, he supposed.

“Alright,” she said with gusto, pecking him one last time on the head. “Go round the hooligans. Dinner will be done in a moment.”

He jumped up, feeling lighter than he had in days. His life still royally sucked, but at least for the time being he still had his home.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi asked the moment he flung open the bedroom door.

They were all gathered in a little circle in front of Yoongi’s bed, with Hoseok sitting on top of it. He was bouncing and singing something entirely inappropriate for a child.

“Yeah. It’s cool. Dinner’s almost done.”

“Finally!” Namjoon huffed, his stomach rumbling loudly to agree.

“Here!” Hoseok huffed and shoved the bundle towards him. Jin accepted it without thinking.

He looked down and locked eyes again with the creature that had so changed his life. His wolf quieted almost instantly, finally content to be in the general vicinity of its mate. The others shuffled out of the room and he barely noticed, so enthralled he was by the eyes blinking up at him. The baby was so quiet. Aren’t they supposed to be loud?

And...he supposed as far as infants went he was decent looking. Didn’t look like a potato like some infants he’d seen. His eyes were larger than the rest of the Min’s, and his nose seemed a bit longer. Maybe it was just a baby thing and he had to grow into himself.

All he knew was that he was very glad that all he scented was strawberries and pup, and it just made him protective. He didn’t feel any crazy urges or have bad thoughts - he simply wanted to make sure this pup was safe and happy.

Huh , he could live with that.

“Well, how’d I do?”

He looked up to find Mama Min watching him from the doorway, leaning against it and smiling softly.

“He’s only seven weeks old and already makes Yoongi look like a gremlin,” he scoffed playfully, standing up.

She laughs and holds out her arms. “He is a pretty one. Yoongi’s not so bad either when he sleeps more than four hours and showers.”

He hesitates, his wolf unwilling to release the pup now that he had it. But no, he was more than instincts. He thrust Jungkook towards her and pretended that his wolf wasn't howling against the loss.

Who else would he be safer with than his own mother, you bastard? He growled to himself.

When they gathered for dinner it was the usual chaos. Everyone was screaming and talking over each other, tons of laughter and teasing. Amazing food and even better friends.

Maybe I can keep this, he thought to himself. He smiled hopefully as he observed everyone he cared about sitting around him. Maybe things don’t have to change too much. Jungkook will just be another friend. Eventually. When he learns to talk that is. I can keep on with the plan.

Nothing will change.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #alpha seokjin #omega jungkook #jinkook #bts scenarios #mxm #solastia #omegaverse #shadow of you

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isolctions · 3 years

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...........so let’s finally talk abt what the actual fucking fuck is wrong with ai’rina rue castillo, huh gang? :-)

(everyone go thank @armsdealing & @durcgs beating the anxiety out of me in order to post this info-dump.)

...before we get into things, now’s the part where i establish a warning for triggers to be discussed in this lengthy headcanon post. there’s gonna be some talks of mental illness, slight alcohol abuse, & breaking down topics of familial abuse, mental abuse, religious abuse, emotional manipulation, and elements of non-con. be warned.

a’ight, so look. i’ve hinted in between threads & development that rue had a not-so-fantastic upbringing that impacted how she perceives herself, how she interacts with others, (in terms of her career, at least) and how she views personal relationships, but i didn’t realize how........severely her upbringing messed with her mental health until i started working through how i wanted to plot out rue’s behavior for her next album release. at first, i had the idea that she decided to take more time for herself & sort of distance herself from the public / media circus plaguing her life so that she can create much more authentic music. then i actually listened to the EP that i’m basing her album off of and thought “...oh.” THEN, i looked over old meme responses & old threads / mentions of her family and how she grew up and thought, not for the last time since piecing everything together: “....oh. oh fucking boy.”

so, that horrible realization dawning on me, let’s talk about rue’s childhood.

i wrote a thing like, two years ago almost (that upon looking for last night, i realized i didn’t actually share it w/ anyone but alex in our discord server & only mentioned a portion of it in rue’s moodboard that i made) that talked vaguely about how rue felt growing up. and it’s worth noting that...she’s the middle of ten fucking siblings. and that’s just the brothers & sisters she knew of that stayed with their mother. and on top of that, not all of those siblings are the product of rue’s father, or even rue’s mother for that matter. and it’s also worth noting that rue not only grew up in poverty, but she grew up never having any actual space that had solely been her own, or even an article of clothing that had belonged entirely to her. so naturally, as a young child, rue sort of became torn between starved for attention & wanting someone to pay attention to her (whether that be her older siblings including her in something, whatever teacher they had for the next six months to call on her for something, for her mother to miraculously show up with her unknown father in tow one day, & for literally anyone to be her friend, pls god Notice her!!!) and for people to simply leave her the hell alone. obviously, this carried into adulthood.

and branching off from the whole “lack of space” point i made, rue wound up growing up to become increasingly more private as time went on because she literally cannot remember a single moment where she wasn’t squished between a bunch of people. driving around in their minivan? rue’s packed in the middle of the second row. nowhere to sleep while on the road? rue’s smacked between gigantic older brothers & clingy little siblings. need to use to bathroom? lmao, she better off going outside!!! gotta change clothes? yeah, good luck with that. it was to the point where, when rue got her first period, she was humiliated by it — not because ‘omg, am i a woman now?? wtf is this???’, but because she ruined the one good sheet that she slept on with her sisters & they were super pissed at her and her mother withheld pay from her for weeks. >:/

already, rue grew up never having shit to herself until the record deal. but she also dealt with literally...so much abuse from her mother. rue thought this was the norm growing up, because all of her siblings faced their mother’s wrath at some point & all of them eventually learned to just deal with the shit and do what she says if they wanted to avoid it. they all compartmentalized and repressed to varying degrees. there’s a lot in which rue has repressed so deeply, she doesn’t even remember if it seriously happened or if she was just making it up bc it was so fucking bizarre for a parent to act that way towards their child, lol?? (and this behavior of “i’m just going to do what you say bc i don’t want to deal with whatever bullshit you’re up to if i say no” also carried into business / personal relationships, which is...very Yikes it’s amazing she didn’t get scammed or worse!)

so sure, people have complimented her for her exceptional manners & her cleanliness & how quiet / polite she is & how amazing her posture is, bc seriously, this girl will never experience back problems in her life bc her posture is so on par. but where rue typically smiles / responds bashfully, she can’t exactly just up and say: “oh, yeah, my mom used to slap the shit out of me ‘til i bruised if i spoke out of turn or talked back, and if i reached for anything in the store or put my elbows on the table she’d slap a ruler against my palms ‘til i got welts, and she’d make me read verses all night without sleep if i did anything wrong and make me straighten up and kneel on rice if i slouched or took a nap in church and humiliated me in public if i so much as looked at someone of the opposite sex on the street n oh, did i mention i also cleaned houses for rich millionaire snobs from ages twelve to sixteen and if they said or did literally anything to me i wasn’t allowed to defend myself?? ya i’m real proper :)”

(and normal ppl will go: “...................what the FUCK is WRONG with you????”)

but oh man, babe, we’re not done yet!!! rue, being the product of both a highly religious and a highly exploitative household...had difficulty when she started reaching puberty & noticing her classmates. plural, because it wasn’t just boys that she began to secretly have crushes on / fantasize abt, sexually or domestically. she also realized, oh shit, that she started looking at girls differently too. and that literally put the fear of god into her heart, bc if her mother ever found out that she was having non-platonic feelings for the girls in her classrooms, she wasn’t going to be pissed. her mom might have actually tried to kill her. or have her exorcised or something. she knew the shit would be severe, and she wanted no fucking parts of her mother or her siblings inserting the church into her personal life, thank u very much! so rue started suppressing her romantic feelings for people to the point where if adult rue receives intimacy, she’s like “...is this allowed? is this not illegal??????” while simultaneously being like “i will be a slut. just this once. as a Treat to teenage me. :>” regardless, rue learned to molotov cocktail literally any emotion or thought she had, bc she was paranoid that it would give her mother a vision.

now, onto the perils of exploitation...she should’ve been used to it really, what with her mother forcing herself & siblings to lure customers into their shop with promises of visions and palm readings and the wonders of the cards and overexerting their abilities. same with housekeeping, like being of service to people was normal! but when seventeen year old rue decided to sign a record deal and break from home, she wasn’t thinking critically about what the fuck all of this would entail. and as described in this headcanon post abt her discography, her early music was the product of allowing people much older & powerful than you to influence your work & manipulate your values. so rue was very much parading around as someone she wasn’t, someone much more confident and badass and self-assured than she really was, and she was so impressionable back then that it literally makes her sick to think back on it now. she calls it her puppy phase and phrases the eagerness to please execs as ‘tongue wagging’. homegirl hardly even knew her name anymore, bc all she was and all she would ever be was rue, the star, the vocal temptress. not ai’rina, the help or ai’rina, the seer, ai’rina, the weak little nobody. but later on, the subtle manipulation was less about decision making & how they wanted her to sound, and more about how they wanted to present the latest trophy star — because after all, she was pretty. people liked her. she sung really well. suitors weren’t too far off into the distant future. so why not kill two birds with one stone by having a high ranking label artist keep tabloids talking by being seen in public with a few heart throbs? surely, there’s no harm in manipulating an eighteen/nineteen year old’s love life! under the guise of improving her social skills & relations with fellow artists and the media and the like, rue gave into the pressures and let herself be taken out on dates & seen at awards shows with a few guys. no big deal. it was only for a night or so, she could handle the attention. then, one night appearances turned into week long appearances. pretending to date for only a month! completely innocent, positive exposure. :)

(adult rue, looking back @ younger rue: you stupid fucking BITCH-)

yeah, so once her label/management realized that she was turning into a hot commodity, they lost no sleep at allowing their nineteen year old artist to be seen ‘dating’ 20-24+ year old men occasionally. and whatever happened after their public appearances were none of their business. plus, she was good at pretending and being arm candy — so rue experienced her first kiss, her first dates, and her first times with people who she’s almost certain hardly remember their time with her, and really only got involved with her for a mutual career boost. very few of them does she actually remember in a positive light, and the ones that were positive, still depress her bc lmao all of it was fake, even if they were really nice & made it less like a chore and more like they actually wanted to be with her!! even fewer of them were actual relationships. meaning, said person asked her out of their own volition, not bc their managers thought it’d be a decent match on camera. it was evil, really, what her old label made of her. (like, she makes funny jokes that her first time having sex was awkward bc she had a vision halfway through that bummed her out but in reality it was just...really more of a transaction that made her feel icky n progressively worse abt herself until it happened more often and now she just doesn’t care anymore. sex is just sex, u know?? everything’s fake. why you gotta make it personal.) this whole fiasco took over the larger part of rue’s career from like, age nineteen to age twenty-two or so, and she suffered dramatically from this because what is even a genuine, authentic relationship at this point? what do u mean you want to get to know me? did ur manager tell you to ask so many damn questions & try to get to know me? obviously you want something from me bc that’s why everyone gets into a relationship or has sex with me, stop confessing feelings for me u fucking loser. >:/

like...rue doesn’t even have friends. outside of her relationship with marcelo / @armsdealing (which, AGAIN, i think was initially arranged to promote her song be honest, how fucking IRONIC), rue does not have any personal relationships with anyone. i mean, she likes her latest management team since switching labels...her hair stylist is rly cool & her make up artist is fun to vacation with...she met a few other celebrities at events that she occasionally texts & has dinner with...yeah, she’s basically a pretty hermit. her family is more or less out of the question — the few brothers & sisters she does still have a positive relationship with (like, four of them lol), they don’t see each other in person often / mainly communicate via groupchat and facetime calls when all of them have time. she tried visiting with her mother over the years, but the verbal & emotional abuse/curses placed on her/accusations of being an imp of satan for singing to the public/memories of being forced to perform psychic shows & clean for chump change keeps her from trying to mend that relationship. like, being gaslit by ur mother isn’t really the vibe, u know? and bottom line, rue simply is a very shy and socially stunted individual who does not know how to communicate like a normal human being anymore. hell, her life revolves around pretending for strangers at this point!

now, onto how...all of That ties into her behavior / state of mind during this next album. so, after riding the wave of success from her third album & the circus that came with that. rue sort of had a fucking existential crisis. came out of absolutely nowhere. (not nowhere — one of her brothers called her out of the blue and called her ai’rina and she literally went “who the fuck is that?”) told her label that she was taking some time in between albums bc she was creatively zapped or whatever bullshit excuse she came up with that somehow worked bc this new label was a little more understanding than the last. vacationed for a little, did some hot girl shit, bought a house, tried to see her mother again for whatever reason then got the shit slapped out of her and finally screamed at her to never touch her again unless she wanted to Throw Hands. cried and got drunk abt it. that took six months. bullshat to her label again, dropped like two songs to smooth things over, decided to focus on magic for a little to ground her, started partying with label mates then going home shitfaced & hungover every other morning. that took eight months. dropped one last song, promptly deleted her twitter, tried to write songs again, got a call from her mother and panicked and got drunk. that took a year. vacationed some more, got even drunker, was bed ridden for like three months because holy shit i’m having so many visions and if i see One More Thing my brain is going to explode, couldn’t separate the present from the future for weeks after that, told absolutely no one about that, cried every day & had an identity crisis, dyed her hair to appease the identity crisis goblins. that took a year and a half.

now, she just chilling. dyed her hair again. scaring her siblings halfway to death bc she keeps going on benders & sending cryptic texts abt the visions she’s getting but they’re so incomprehensible that they’re seriously considering moving in to get her fucking shit together. had a vision that she was married with kids and had a two week identity crisis appeased only by moving houses. (she was in a neighborhood with families...too much Drama and visions. turned into a really cool song tho.) started calling herself by her birth name of ai’rina in private. reactivated twitter to send cryptic tweets that her album is coming. working on said album. trying to drink less but kinda failing bc how is one simply supposed to make a highly personal dual album without alcohol??? prbly somewhere crying in marcelo’s lap or smthn. just vibes.

like...i feel like, in my head, the Theme of her project is wrapped up in identity. her relationship with fame and whatnot. trying to coax her childhood self out of its’ shell so that she can function like a normal goddamn person for once and re-establish her values. like, if someone went to any of rue’s residences right now, it’s just songbooks everywhere and wine glasses and her crystals and shit, bc she still has people’s futures to read for money. (yes, she never really got out of that portion of her childhood, but hey it pays.) it was all very confusing to experience at once while in bed at four in the morning & even though i tried organizing and debated on this, it’s still a Lot. which is why i am once again asking for plots that would allow her to dissect all these Things

so yeah. album four otw, with a side of confronting our childhood & facing our traumas!

#rue — facts #imagine me making a cohesive hc post #it wont happen but like imagine how sexy that would be #anyway this is long and me thinks stream of conscious hc posting is both therapeutic and Exhausting #but i had a lot of thots abt her that needed to be shared to...yeah #abuse tw #alcoholism tw #long post tw #i feel like that its always sunny meme??? yall know which one #but anyways this is somehow overwhelming n embarrassing that i typed so much so i am going to hiding!#UNLESS!...........u want to plot with this Disaster of a woman :eyes:

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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Stefanie Gray explains why, as a teenager, she was so anxious to leave her home state of Florida to go to college.

“I went to garbage schools and I’m from a garbage low-income suburb where everyone sucks Oxycontin all day,” she says. “I needed to get out.”

She got into Hunter College in New York, but both her parents had died and she had nowhere near enough to pay tuition, so she borrowed. “I just had nothing and was poor as hell, so I took out loans,” she says.

This being 2006, just a year after the infamous Bankruptcy Bill of 2005 was passed, she believed news stories about student loans being non-dischargeable in bankruptcy. She believed they would be with her for life, or until they were paid off.

“My understanding was, it’s better to purchase 55 big-screen TVs on a credit card, and discharge that in a court of law, then be a student who’s getting an education,” she says.

Still, she asked for financial aid: “I was like, ‘My parents are dead, I'm a literal fucking orphan, I have no siblings. I'm just taking out this money to put my ass through school.”

Instead of a denial, she got plenty of credit, including a slice of what were called “direct-to-consumer” loans, that came with a whopping 14% interest rate. One of her loans also came from a company called MyRichUncle that, before going bankrupt in 2009, would briefly become famous for running an ad disclosing a kickback system that existed between student lenders and college financial aid offices.

Gray was not the cliché undergrad, majoring in intersectional basket-weaving with no plan to repay her loans. She took geographical mapping, with the specific aim of getting a paying job quickly. But she graduated in the middle of the post-2008 crash, when “53% of people 18 to 29 were unemployed or underemployed.”

“I couldn't even get a job scrubbing toilets at a local motel,” she recalls. “They told me straight up that I was over-educated. I was like, “Literally, I'll do your housekeeping. I don't give a shit, just let me make money and not get evicted and end up homeless.”

The lender Sallie Mae at the time had an amusingly loathsome policy of charging a repeating $150 fee every three months just for the privilege of applying for forbearance. Gray was so pissed about having to pay $50 a month just to say she was broke that she started a change.org petition that ended up gathering 170,000 signatures.

She personally delivered those to the Washington offices of Sallie Mae and ended up extracting a compromise out of the firm: they’d still charge the fee, but she could at least apply it to her balance, as opposed to just sticking it in the company’s pocket as an extra. This meager “partial” victory over a student lender was so rare, the New York Times wrote about it.

“I definitely poked the bear,” she says.

Gray still owed a ton of student debt — it had ballooned from $36,000 to $77,000, in fact — and collectors were calling her nonstop, perhaps with a little edge thanks to who she was. “They were telling me I should hit up people I know for money, which was one thing,” she recalls. “But when they started talking about giving blood, or selling plasma… I don’t know.”

Sallie Mae ultimately sued Gray four times. In doing so, they made a strange error. It might have slipped by, but for luck. “By the grace of God,” Gray said, she met a man in the lobby of a courthouse, a future state Senator named Kevin Thomas, who took a look at her case. “Huh, I’ve got some ideas,” he said, eventually pointing to a problem right at the top of her lawsuit.

Sallie Mae did not represent itself in court as Sallie Mae. The listed plaintiff was “SLM Private Credit Student Loan Trust VL Funding LLC.” As was increasingly the case with mortgages and other forms of debt, student loans by then were typically gathered, pooled, and chopped into slices called tranches, to be marketed to investors. Gray, essentially, was being sued by a tranche of student loan debt, a little like being sued by the coach section of an airline flight.

When Thomas advised her to look up the plaintiff’s name, she discovered it wasn’t registered to do business in the State of New York, which prompted the judge to rule that the entity lacked standing to sue. He fined Sallie Mae $10,000 for “nonsense” and gave Gray another rare victory over a student lender, which she ended up writing about herself this time, in The Guardian.

Corporate creditors often play probabilities and mass-sue even if they don’t always have great cases, knowing a huge percentage of borrowers either won’t show up in court (as with credit card holders) or will agree to anything to avoid judgments, the usual scenario with student borrowers.

“What usually happens in pretty much 99% of these cases is you beg and plead and say, ‘Please don't put a judgment against me, I'll do anything… because a judgment against you means you're not going to be able to buy a home, you’re not going to be able to do basically anything involving credit for the next 20 years.”

…

The passage of the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005 was a classic demonstration of how America works, or doesn’t, depending on your point of view. While we focus on differences between Republicans and Democrats, it’s their uncanny habit of having just a sliver of enough agreement to pass crucial industry-friendly bills that really defines the parties.

Whether it’s NAFTA, the Iraq War authorization, or the Obama stimulus, there are always just enough aisle-crossers to get the job done, and the tally usually tracks with industry money with humorous accuracy. In this law signed by George Bush, sponsored by Republican Chuck Grassley, and greased by millions in donations from entities like Sallie Mae, the crucial votes were cast by a handful of aisle-crossing Democrats, including especially the Delawareans Joe Biden and Tom Carper. Hillary Clinton, who took $140,000 from bank interests in her Senate run, had voted for an earlier version.

Party intrigue is only part of the magic of American politics. Public relations matter, too, and the Bankruptcy Bill turned out to be the poster child for another cherished national phenomenon: the double-lie.

…

Years later, pundits still debate whether there really ever was an epidemic of debt-fleeing deadbeats, or whether legislators in 2005 who just a few years later gave “fresh starts” to bankrupt Wall Street banks ever cared about “moral hazard,” or if it’s fair to cut off a single Mom in a trailer when Donald Trump got to brag about “brilliantly” filing four commercial bankruptcies, and so on.

In other words, we argue the why of the bill, but not the what. What did that law say, exactly? For years, it was believed that it absolutely closed the door on bankruptcy for whole classes of borrowers, and one in particular: students. Nearly fifteen years after the bill’s passage, journalists were still using language like, “The bill made it completely impossible to discharge student loan debt.”

…

The phrase “Just asking questions” today often carries a negative connotation. It’s the language of the conspiracy theorist, we’re told. But sometimes in America we’re just not told the whole story, and when the press can’t or won’t do it, it’s left to individual people to fill in the blanks. In a few rare cases, they find out something they weren’t supposed to, and in rarer cases still, they learn enough to beat the system. This is one of those stories.

…

Smith’s explanation of the history of the student loan exemption and where it all went wrong is biting and psychologically astute. In his telling, the courts’ historically sneering attitude toward student borrowers has its roots in an ages-old generational debate.

“This started out as an an argument between the Greatest Generation and Baby Boomers,” Smith notes. “A lot of the law was created by people railing against draft-dodging deadbeat hippies.”

He points to a 1980 ruling by a judge named Richard Merrick, who in denying relief to a former student, wrote the following:

The arrogance of former students who had received so much from society, frequently including draft deferment, and who had given back so little in return, accompanied by their vehemence in asserting their constitutional and statutory rights, frequently were not well received by legislators and jurists, senior to them, who had lived through the Depression, had worked their ways through college and graduate school, had served in World War II, and had been paying the taxes which made possible the student loans.

Smith laughs about this I didn’t climb the hills at Normandy with a knife in my teeth just to eat the debt on your useless-ass liberal arts degree perspective, noting that “when those guys who did all that complaining went to school, only rich prep school kids went to college, and by the way, tuition was like ten bucks.” Still, he wasn’t completely unsympathetic to the conservative position.

…

This concern about “deadbeats” gaming the system — kids taking out fat loans to go to school and bailing on them before the end of the graduation party — led that 1985 court to take a hardcore position against students who made “virtually no attempt to repay.” They established a three-pronged standard that came to be known as the “Brunner test” for determining if a student faced enough “undue hardship” to be granted relief from student debt.

Among other things, the court ruled that a newly graduated student had to do more than demonstrate a temporary inability to handle bills. Instead, a “total incapacity now and in the future to pay” had to be present for a court to grant relief. Over the course of the next decades, it became axiomatic that basically no sentient being could pass the Brunner test.

…

In 2015, he was practicing law at the Texas litigation firm Bickel and Brewer when he came across a case involving a former Pace University student named Lesley Campbell, who was seeking to discharge a $15,000 loan she took out while studying for a bar exam. Smith believed a loan given out to a woman who’d already completed her studies, and who used the money to pay for rent and groceries, was not covering an “educational benefit” as required by law. A judge named Carla Craig agreed and canceled Campbell’s loan, and Campbell v. Citibank became one of the earlier dents in the public perception that there were no exceptions to the prohibition on discharging student debts.

“I thought, ‘Wait, what? This might be important,’” says Smith.

By law, Smith believed, lenders needed to be wary of three major exceptions to the non-dischargeability rule:

— If a loan was not made to a student attending a Title IV accredited school, he thought it was probably not a “qualified educational loan.”

— If the student was not a full-time student — in practice, this meant taking less than six credits — the loan was probably dischargeable.

— And if the loan was made in an amount over and above the actual cost of attending an accredited school, the excess might not be “eligible” money, and potentially dischargeable.

Practically speaking, this means if you got a loan for an unaccredited school, were not a full-time student, or borrowed for something other than school expenses, you might be eligible for relief in court.

Smith found companies had been working around these restrictions in the blunt predatory spirit of a giant-sized Columbia Record Club. Companies lent hundreds of thousands to teenagers over and above the cost of tuition, or to people who’d already graduated, or to attendees of dubious unaccredited institutions, or to a dozen other inappropriate destinations. Then they called these glorified credit card balances non-dischargeable educational debts — Gray got one of these “direct-to-consumer” specials — and either sold them into the financial system as investments, borrowed against them as positive assets, or both.

…

Smith thought these practices were nuts, and tried to convince his bosses to start suing financial companies.

“They were like, ‘You do know what we do around here, right?’ We defend banks,” he recalls, laughing. “I said, ‘Not these particular banks.’ They said it didn’t matter, it was a question of optics, and besides, who was going to pay off in the end? A bunch of penniless students?”

Furious, Smith stormed off, deciding to hang his own shingle and fight the system on his own. “My sister kept saying to me, ‘You have to stop trying to live in a John Grisham novel,’” he recalls, laughing. “There were parts of it where I was probably super melodramatic, saying things like, ‘I'm going to go find justice.’”

Slowly however, Smith did find clients, and began filing and winning cases. With each suit, he learned more and more about student lenders. In one critical moment, he discovered that the same companies who were representing in court that their loans were absolutely non-dischargeable were telling investors something entirely different. In one prospectus for a trust packed full of loans managed by Sallie Mae, investors were told that the process for creating the aforementioned “direct-to-consumer” loans:

Does not involve school certification as an additional control and, therefore, may be subject to some additional risk that the loans are not used for qualified education expenses… You will bear any risk of loss resulting from the discharge.

Sallie Mae was warning investors that the loans might be discharged in bankruptcy. Why the honesty? Because the parties who’d be packaging and selling these student loan-backed instruments included Credit Suisse, JP Morgan Chase, and Deutsche Bank.

“It’s one thing to lie to a bunch of broke students. They don’t matter,” Smith says. “It’s another to lie to JP Morgan Chase and Deutsche Bank. You screw those people, they’ll fight back.”

…

In June of 2018, a case involving a Navy veteran named Kevin Rosenberg went through the courts. Rosenberg owed hundreds of thousands of dollars and tried to keep current on his loans, but after his hiking and camping store folded in 2017, he found himself busted and unable to pay. His case was essentially the opposite of Brunner: he clearly hadn’t tried to game the system, he made a good faith effort to pay, and he demonstrated a long-term inability to make good. All of this was taken into consideration by a judge named Cecilia Morris, who ruled that Rosenberg qualified for “undue hardship.”

“Most people… believe it impossible to discharge student loans,” Morris wrote. “This Court will not participate in perpetuating these myths.” The ruling essentially blew up the legend of the unbeatable Brunner standard.

Given a fresh start, Rosenberg moved to Norway to become an Arctic tour guide. “I want people to know that this is a viable option,” he said at the time. The ruling attracted a small flurry of news attention, including a feature in the Wall Street Journal, as the case sent a tremor through the student lending world. More and more people were now testing their luck in bankruptcy, suing their lenders, and asking more and more uncomfortable questions about the nature of the education business.

In the summer of 2012, a former bond trader named Michael Grabis sat in the waiting room of a Manhattan financial company, biding time before a job interview. In the eighties, Grabis’s father was a successful bond trader who worked in a swank office atop the World Trade Center, but after the 1987 crash, the family fell out of the smart set overnight. His father lost his job and spiraled, his mother had to look for a job, and “we just became working class people.”

Michael tried to rewrite the family story, going to school and going into the bond business himself, first with the Bank of New York, and eventually for Schwab. But he, too, lost his job in a crash, in 2008, and now was trying to break the pattern of bubble economy misery. However, he’d exited Pennsylvania’s Lafayette College in the nineties carrying tens of thousands in student loans. That number had since been compounded by fees and penalties, and the usual letters, notices, and phone calls from debt collectors came nonstop.

Now, awaiting a job interview, his phone rang again. It was a collection call for Sallie Mae, and it wasn’t just one voice on the line.

“They had two women call at once,” Grabis recalls. “They told me I’d made bad life choices, that I lived in too expensive a city, that I had to move to a cheaper place, so I could afford to pay them,” Grabis explains. “I tried to tell them I was literally at that moment trying to get a job to help pay my bills, but these people are trained to just hound you without listening. I was shaking when I got off the phone, and ended up having a bad interview.”

Two years later, more out of desperation and anger than any real expectation of relief, Grabis went to federal court in the Southern District of New York and filed for bankruptcy. At the time, he, too, believed student loans could not be eliminated. But the more he read about the way student loans were constructed and sold — he’d had experience in doing shovel-work constructing mortgage-backed securities, so he understood the Student Loan Asset-Backed Securities (SLABS) market — he started to develop a theory. Everyone dealing with the finances of higher education in America knew the system was rotten, he thought. But what if someone could prove it?

The 2005 Bankruptcy Act says former students can’t discharge loans for “qualified educational expenses,” i.e. loans given to students so that they might attend tax-exempt non-profit educational institutions. Historically, that exemption covered almost all higher education loans.

What if America’s universities no longer deserve their non-profit status? What if they’re no longer schools, and are instead first and foremost crude profit-making ventures, leveraging federal bankruptcy law and the I.R.S. code into a single, ongoing predatory lending scheme?

This is essentially what Grabis argued, in a motion filed last January. He named Navient, Lafayette College, the U.S. Department of Education, Joe Biden, his own exasperated judge, and a host of other “unknown co-perpetrators” as part of a scheme against him, claiming the entirety of America’s higher education business had become an illegal moneymaking scam.

“They created a fraud,” he says flatly.

…

Grabis doesn’t have a lawyer, his case has been going on for the better part of six years, and at first blush, his argument sounds like a Hail Mary from a desperate debtor. The only catch is, he might be right.

By any metric, something unnatural is going on in the education business. While other industries in America suffered declines thanks to financial crises, increased exposure to foreign competition, and other factors, higher education has grown suspiciously fat in the last half-century. Tuition costs are up 100% at universities over and above inflation since 2000, despite the 2008 crash, with some schools jacking up prices at three, four times the rate of inflation dating back to the seventies.

Bloat at the administrative level makes the average university look like a parody of an NFL team, where every brain-dead cousin to the owner gets on the payroll. According to Education Week, “fundraisers, financial aid advisers, global recruitment staff, and many others grew by 60 percent between 1993 and 2009,” which is ten times the rate of growth for tenured faculty positions.

…

Hovering over all this is a fact not generally known to the public: many American universities, even ones claiming to be broke, are sitting atop mountains of reserve cash. In 2013, after the University of Wisconsin blamed post-crash troubles for raising tuition 5.5%, UW system president Kevin Reilly in 2013 admitted that the school actually held $638 million in reserve, separate and distinct from the school endowment. Moreover, Reilly said, other big schools were doing the same thing. UW’s reserve was 25% of its operating budget, for instance, but the University of Minnesota’s was 29%, while Illinois maintained a whopping 34% buffer.

When Alan Collinge of Student Loan Justice looked into it, he found many other schools were sitting atop mass reserves even as they pleaded poverty to raise tuition rates. “They’re all doing it,” he said.

In the mortgage bubble that led to the 2008 crash, financiers siphoned fortunes off home loans that were unlikely to be repaid. Student loans are the same game, but worse. All the key players get richer as that $1.7 trillion pile of debt expands, and the fact that everyone knows huge percentages of student borrowers will never pay is immaterial. More campus palaces get built, more administrators get added to payrolls, and perhaps most importantly, the list of assets grows for financial companies, whether or not the loans perform.

…

“As long as it’s collateralized at Navient, they can borrow against that,” Smith says. “They say, ‘Look, we've got $3 billion in assets, which are just consumer loans in negative amortization that are not being repaid, but are being artificially kept out of default so Navient can borrow against that from other banks.

“When I realized that, I was like, ‘Oh, my god. They’re happy that the loans are growing instead of being repaid, because it gives them more collateral to borrow against.’” Smith’s comments echo complaints made by virtually every student borrower in trouble I’ve ever interviewed: lenders are not motivated to reduce the size of balances by actually getting paid. Instead, the game is about keeping loans alive and endlessly growing the balance, through new fees, penalties, etc.

There are two ways of approaching reform of the system. One is the Bernie Sanders route, which would involve debt forgiveness and free higher education. A market-based approach meanwhile dreams of reintroducing discipline into student lending; if students could default, schools couldn’t endlessly raise costs on the back of unlimited government-backed credit.

Which idea is more correct can be debated, but the one thing we know for sure is that the current system is the worst of both worlds, enriching all the most undeserving actors, and hitting that increasingly prevalent policy sweet spot of privatized profit and socialized risk. Whether it gets blown up in bankruptcy courts or simply collapses eventually under its own financial weight — there’s an argument that the market will be massively disrupted if and when the administration ends the Covid-19 deferment of student loan payments — the lie can’t go on much longer.

“It’s just obvious that this has become a printing money operation,” says Grabis. “The colleges charge whatever they want, then they go to the government and continuously increase the size of the loans.” If you’re on the inside, that’s a beautiful thing. What about for everyone else?

#matt taibbi #substack #long #read the whole thing #student loans #student loan debt

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flutteringphalanges · 3 years

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A Handful of Baby’s Breath

Summary: Dani knows that her days are numbered. And even though she won't admit it allowed, Jamie is well aware of it too. It's the idea of leaving Jamie alone that brings a thought to her mind. A rather big, important thought. An idea of leaving a piece of herself behind. Or rather, two pieces of herself. Together, Dani and Jamie decide to expand their family. From pregnancy to years gone by, we see a new meaning in: "It's me. It's you. It's us."

Ship: Dani/Jamie

Rating: T

Status: Complete

A/N: I have no idea why I thought of this. I just like baby stories! Any inconsistencies I am so sorry! I did a lot of research, but I am still prone to mistakes! By the way, we are talking in vitro feralization. Hope you like it! -Jen

A Handful of Baby’s Breath

Jamie eyed the bouquet of flowers left neatly on the counter with mixed suspicion and amusement. Dani was not as well equipped as she was when it came to botanical knowledge, but she still had a rather decent eye for pretty flowers. The ones you’d use for romance and such. And yet, to her at least, a lone collection of white Baby’s Breath didn’t seem to fit the theme.

“An interesting find there, Poppins.” The other woman grinned, wiping her hands on a dish rag as her wife walked in. “Did you pick those yourself off the side of the road?”

“No…” Dani said, a nervous smile crossing her features as she entered the room. “I um...I drove a ways and bought them as a surprise. Getting them from you wouldn’t make much sense.”

She had that distant look in her eyes. A stare that made Jamie’s stomach knot. It was as if she was seeing something that only her gaze could meet. And the woman knew well enough that that was sometimes the case. Her brow furrowed as she stepped closer, a hand resting on her wife’s shoulder.

“What is it?” She asked softly, trying to hide the concern in tone. “Did you see…”

“No.” Dani interrupted, shaking her head vigorously. “No, it’s not that. It’s…” The woman paused, clearing her throat. “I want to talk to you about something. Something big.” Her blue eyes widened as she took Jamie’s hand and pulled her to the couch. “It’s not bad...maybe not...but...sit down first.”

“Okay…” Jamie said slowly, letting out a chuckle. “What did you do this time? You didn’t run into the light pole again. I told you we could replace that piece of junk. You don’t have to destroy the bloody car for that to happen.”

“Not the car.” The young woman assured her. “I...I don’t know how long I have left…”

“Don’t start.” Jamie cut her off, her mouth curving into a deep frown. “We talked about this. When the time comes, we’ll face this together.” Dani opened her mouth, but her wife held up her finger. “It’s alright. Everything is going to be just fine as it has been.”

“Whenever it happens, and it will, I don’t want you to be alone.” Dani insisted, straightening up in her seat to face Jamie. “So I’ve been thinking about it--quite constantly I might add, and I think that...well, we should have a baby.”

If she had been holding a glass of wine, this would be the moment she’d spew the liquid out in utter shock. Jamie stared back at Dani, who seemed rather calm as if she expected this reaction, with her mouth agape. Certainly she hadn’t heard her right. No, not possible. Or if she had, maybe she was beginning to lose her beloved much faster than she’d thought.

“A baby?!” Jamie blinked, eyes fixed on Dani. “As in a living, breathing, tiny human being?! That kind of baby?!”

“Well certainly not an animal, though I did consider that.” Her voice was calm, mellow as she spoke. “And I thought that perhaps, if you agree, I’ll carry the child. That way you’ll always have a piece of me.” She smiled contently at the thought. “I know she is inside of me. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve come to realize that her being there won’t affect any child we have.” Dani sighed and her gaze flickered towards the window. “At least I’d like to think that. That that part of me, my genetic makeup, is and will always be mine. A ghost can only possess so much.”

“And how, pray tell, if we did decide to do this absurd idea of yours would we go about it? Most places our union alone wouldn’t be accepted, much less both our names on a birth certificate. Hell, Poppins.” Jamie exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “It’s nice to see you with some pep in your step, but a baby…”

“In vitro fertilization.” Dani said confidently. “Many women have had success with it. We just have to find the right sperm donor and then...well, I suppose we hope that we’re lucky.” She took Jamie’s hands in both of hers. “I know it’s far, across the world, but there is a sperm bank in California who actually helps women like us. Not to mention that I am still technically an American citizen. And I know it isn’t the same, but there is something called Second Parent Adoption which would secure that no matter what happens to me, our child is yours. Custody and all. I know the wording is far from favorable, but we’d be a family. A whole family. And us knowing that, being that, is the only thing that matters.”

Jamie was silent, her hands still held in Dani’s. She could see the look of desperation in her wife’s eyes. The desire. The need. She didn’t like to think of losing her. Nor had she really ever seen herself as a mother. But here her wife sat nearly pleading the idea to her. It wouldn’t be an easy road. Perhaps not even successful. But Dani’s adamance. Her hope. Suddenly the gardener considered that maybe if she could keep a plant alive, a child couldn’t be that much harder.

“Is this what you really want?” She finally asked, gazing deep in the other woman’s eyes. “Really, really want?”

“More than anything.” Dani breathed.

“Alright then.” Jamie said, leaning forward to touch her forehead to Dani’s. “Let’s make a baby then.”

XXX

“Christ, it’s so hot…” Dani complained as she fanned herself with a leaflet. “Turn down the thermostat!”

“What can you expect in sunny California?” Her wife joked, walking over to hand the heavily pregnant woman a glass of water. “And to think it’s actually colder here than average. I’m rather comfortable myself.”

Dani threw her a dirty glare as she hobbled over to the kitchen table. So much had happened in the last eight months. Not only had their attempt to become pregnant worked on the first try, but Dani had found herself expecting twins. Thankfully both she and Jamie had experience dealing with two kids--even if one had been the au pair and the other a gardener.

“You should apply for US citizenship so you can remain here in America with the twins if things don’t work out.” Dani said quietly, sipping on her water. “Surely you meet the requirements. I’ve just been thinking, if we go back...when we got back to England and I’m...it’s just you three, if something were to arise, you’d have a place to call your second home.” She rested a hand on her belly thoughtfully. “I’m sure Henry would be more than willing to help out if need be.”

“We have talked to him in years.” Jamie exhaled, taking a seat beside her wife. “And I told you to stop worrying about silly stuff like that. One day at a time. Right now, the twins are healthy, you’re in one piece, and I’m not boiling over in the bloody heat.” She smiled and kissed the other woman, her hand moving to rest over hers. “Things will work themselves out as they normally do.”

“Well can we at least pick some names?” Dani exclaimed, motioning to her stomach. “That would take some anxiety off my mind. It would’ve helped if you let the doctor tell us what we were having too.”

“I quite like surprises.” Jamie stated with a shrug. “And we’ve only got a few weeks left. Not much longer now.” She seemed hesitate for a moment as if deep in thought. “How about Ernest for a boy? After that lovely drunk man who has taken a piss or two on the corner side diner?”

“I will pluck every petal from every bloom in your garden.” Her wife snorted, mouth twitching into a small smile. “Is picking a flower name too ironic? Rose seems lovely for any age. Or Hyacinth? I quite like that one actually.”

“Too common and too old sounding.” Jamie shook her head. “What about Albert? We can call him Al for short. Seems acceptable enough.”

Dani pursed her lips in consideration. “Maybe.” She said, gently stroking her stomach. “It’s the first acceptable name you’ve ever given me.” Jamie rolled her eyes and her wife snorted. “Fine, in case we have another boy...Joel.”

“Is there a reason for that name?” The other woman asked curiously.

“...I may or may not have had a dog with that name.” Danit replied sheepishly. “What?” She grinned as the words sent the gardener into a fit of laughter. “Were you expecting me to say it was an old crush?”

“Certainly not a dog, that’s for sure. But...I suppose I’ll allow it.” Jamie chewed on her bottom lip. “Albert and Joel...those aren’t too horrible to make them want to kill us when they are older.” Or rather, when she was older. Nevermind that. “We need girls’ names now. And before you say anything, if we must pick a plant name....Aster.”

“Aster?” Dani questioned, one of her brows cocked in question. “Aren’t you worried she’ll be made fun of for that?”

“Children make fun of any and everything.” Jamie yawned, leaning back in her chair. “Besides, if she is anything like us, she’ll be the alpha of the playground.”

“I don’t condone our daughter being violent.” Dani said, though it was hard to hide the amusement from her face. “...I guess it’s a nice enough name--and it is a flower.” She laced her fingers over the apex of her stomach. “Hannah.”

Jamie stiffened slightly at the mention of the late housekeeper. Hannah rarely came up in conversation. Mostly when the couple had paid a visit to Owen’s restaurant in the past. Dani’s eyes seemed to be studying her wife, waiting for a response to her suggestion.

“Hannah.” She nodded, smiling as she spoke. “I like that one a lot.”

It was, after all, a very good, dependable name.

XXX

She couldn’t believe she agreed to this. How could she have been so utterly stupid? Dani’s safety and well being far surpassed her wife’s fear of Jamie not being allowed to go into the delivery room. Whether they saw to it or not, she was the former au pair’s wife. Her family. But instead of a clean, medical equipment on hand, hospital room, her beloved partner writhed in agony in their bed as the weird midwife Dani insisted they hire and accompanying apprentice went about.

“There is still time for us to go!” Jamie pleaded as Dani squeezed the life out of her hand. “Come on, Poppins, you don’t want to do this here.”

“Yes...Yes I do!” Dani insisted through grunts, despite the lingering thought of an epidural beginning to sound more and more lovely. “I just...CHRIST!” Part of her wanted to strangle Jamie in that moment. Her poor, innocent wife. If she remembered, she’d apologize later. “You have NO idea what this is like!”

“And I’m rather glad for that.” Jamie thought to herself as she knelt by Dani’s side. “Do you want to get into the tub--”

“I said NO WATER!” And the ferocity in the former au pair’s tone shut the other woman up quick. “Please, I just want to push! I feel like I have to! I’ve been having contraction after contraction for hours! I. Want. To. Push!”

“Lydia, light the incense please.” The midwife said calmly as the other woman lit some sticks that smelt of horrible, faux lavender. “Let me see where you are.”

The phone was just inches away from her grasp as Jamie eyed it longingly from her spot beside the bed. If she could just unlatch herself from Dani, maybe she could call the emergency hotline and have her wife transported to a location with an actual doctor. Images of Dani hemorrhaging out and blue tinted babies filled the woman’s head as the midwife smiled.

“Dani, you are definitely ready to deliver your children. Are you ready to become a mom?”

Are you ready to become a mom? The words floated in the gardener’s head and embedded themselves in her mind. As she looked to Dani, it was evident in her tired expression that she too was nervous. Now was not the time to show worry. Not when her wife needed her most. Forcing a smile, Jamie squeezed her wife’s hand.

“Let’s have us some babies then.”

Time felt faster than it probably actually was. For a second, it seemed as if it was only her and Dani. Then, bright pink with a healthy wail, Albert Joel Clayton was placed on his mother’s chest. And, as it should be, not long after, just as full of life as her brother, Hannah Aster Clayton made her own appearance in this world. A little boy and girl. Two moms and two children. What more could one ask for?

“You were brilliant, Poppins.” Jamie beamed, kissing her wife lovingly. “They’re perfect.”

“Yes.” Dani agreed, smiling brightly despite her exhaustion. “They are, aren’t they.” She held the infants close to her bare skin and closed her eyes. “I don’t want this to end.” The new mother whispered. And for the first time, Jamie could see tears of sadness welling up in the corners of her eyes. “I’m not ready.”

“It won’t end.” Jamie exclaimed, smoothing her partner’s hair down. “I won’t allow it.”

The former au pair opened her eyes and gave a sorrowful, watery smile. “Okay.” She murmured, swallowing hard. Though Jamie didn’t know it yet, Dani knew that her time was soon approaching. “Let’s stay together then.” Her eyes flickered down to the twins. “One day at a time.”

XXX

It would be a happier tale to say that after everything, Dani was not taken over by the Lady of the Lake. That she and Jamie got to raise their children together. Live as a happy family. But such good endings did not follow the family’s return to England from their temporary stay in the States.

At first, Jamie had hoped that Dani was just suffering from postpartum depression. She rarely ate. Slept at odd hours. And her interest in the babies was not what one would expect. But the final straw that broke the camel’s back. That snapped Dani to realizing she must leave in order to protect her family came one night after Sunday dinner.

“I think you got more peas on the floor than in you, Al.” Jamie smirked at the ten month old as she made her way to the kitchen. “Poppins, where is the broom? Albert--”

Jamie stopped in her tracks, her heart leaping out of her chest. There Dani stood, completely stone faced and about to submerge Hannah in the filled up sink. Reacting quickly, the gardener rushed over and snatched her daughter away causing her wife to snap out of her trance.

“What happened?!” She asked, her tone inflected with terror as she looked from the sink to her wailing child. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” Dani’s trembling hands flew to her face as her stomach threatened to dry heave. “I didn’t...I didn’t…”

“Dani, everything is alright now.” Jamie said, her own voice still a little shaky. “Hannah’s fine. You didn’t hurt her.”

“I almost drowned our child!” Dani wailed, throwing her arms up in the air. “Dammit, Jamie, can’t you see?! She’s here! I can feel her inside of me! I’ve felt her growing since the twins were born!” The former au pair began to shake her head violently. “No! No! I won’t! I can’t! I have to go!”

“No!” Jamie snapped. “No! You aren’t going anywhere! We’ll figure this out! It could be a phase!”

Dani only stared at Hannah, who currently had her face buried in Jamie’s chest. “I need to sit down and have a drink.” She said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Jamie cleaned up after that, watching as Dani sauntered off to bed. She forced a smile as she bathed the twins and dressed them for sleep. By the time she made it to their room, the gardener merely assumed that her wife had fallen fast asleep. And that maybe things would be better in the morning. What an utterly, terrible mistake to make. How painful it can be to wake up alone in bed.

Between coming to and Owen’s arrival to watch the twins, only an hour had passed before Jamie found herself speeding to Bly Manor. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. Maybe there was still a chance. The thought of it kept her going. Her love for Dani. Their children. And even when she swam deep out to the middle of that horrid lake and dove to its depths, she still prayed. Oh how even in death her beloved wife appeared so breathtaking.

It’s you. It’s me. It’s us.

It’s us.

XXX

The only thing that seemed to excite the twins at Flora’s wedding was the cake. Though they did not know her and she did not remember any reason of why or who she might associate them with, the three got along perfectly splendid. Jamie, who was practically a stranger to the girl but had been invited by Henry, offered to take them somewhere quiet, but she insisted that the children play. It was, after all, something she would’ve done.

“Is your Mummy dead too?” Hannah asked randomly when the bride went to see how her favorite guests were doing.

“What would make you ask that?” The woman smiled curiously.

“Well she isn’t here.” Albert remarked. “Our Mummy is dead. Well, one of our mummies.”

“Our other Mama is alive.” His sister added on cheerfully. “Very much so!”

“I miss my mother.” Flora said kneeling down. “But do you know what my uncle told me?”

“What?” Albert asked, sounding quite serious despite his young age.

“He said that she is always right here with me.” The bride replied, gently touching both of their chests. “In our hearts.”

The twins looked at each other and giggled. Flora’s brows furrowed in confusion. It seemed a very odd thing to find humorous.

“That’s so silly!” Hannah grinned, meeting the woman’s stare. “Mummy isn’t in our hearts! No, Mummy comes out at night. Sometimes she visits us.”

“But she doesn’t talk.” Hannah informed her. “Sometimes she watches me or just walks.” The young girl tilted her head. “You’ve never seen your Mummy?”

Before Flora could question them more, Jamie swooped in. Wrapping her arounds around the children, she apologized to the bride. At least, given their age, their recounting might be viewed as nothing more than fiction.

“Remember we don’t talk about Mummy here.” Jamie said kneeling in front of her kids.

“Mama?” Albert began, tugging at one of his loose buttons. “How come people like the nice lady don’t visit us? Not even Uncle Owen?”

“Well…” His mother began, choosing her next words carefully. “When you live at Bly Manor, it’s sort of a...special place. Magical. And for Mummy’s sake, we want to keep it that way, don’t we?”

Both the children nodded their heads and Jamie smiled. Pressing a kiss to the top of each of their heads, she allowed them to go running off towards the dance floor. Owen would be there, she knew, with the promise of sweets. And later on, she would drive the three of them home and tuck the two away in bed. Then she’d wait. Like every night since.

She hadn’t gone back to America like Dani had insisted. Instead, with Henry’s good graces and making sure it was safe for her children. That all that bad and terrible was gone. They had moved into Bly Manor. She, the twins, and their Mummy of the Lake who visited on more than one occasion. The beautiful spirit who she someday hoped would allow her to roam the endless gardens and stone too.

Pulling out a chair, she sat down with a smile, repeating the same phrase that held a new meaning now.

“It’s you. It’s me. It’s us.”

So I guess this has a happy-ish ending? I was rather unclear on the dates following Dani and Jamie getting together and then Flora’s wedding. So I had the twins be born closer to when Dani was overtaken by the Lady of the Lake and at Flora’s wedding the kids were closer to Flora and Miles when they were young on the show? Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

#The Haunting of Bly Manor #Dani Clayton #dani x jamie #jamie x dani

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