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mellowswriting · 17 days ago

Text

to someone from a warm climate

pt. ii of it will come back

pairing || Joel Miller x fem!Reader

word count || 5.5k (!!!!!)

summary || Joel isn't the kind of man that can resist taking care of people. Especially you. (or, insomnia and a pulled muscle or two are nothing against the strength of Joel Miller's hands)

content || animal death (hunting), mentions of insomnia, idiots in love, Tommy Knows, Joel gives excellent massages, Joel's Big Hands, (and his big dick smh), SMUT, munch!Joel supremacy, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, soft sweet possessive Joel my LOVE, he's handsy okay i adore him

a/n || had to let my heartbreak over S2E2 create something happy.

Joel Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library blog

There is a quiet that falls over the town in those first hours after the sun rises. A hushed, pure tranquility that rivals any other. The soft sound of birdsong is the soundtrack to your morning ride, accented by the shift of leather with your horse’s every step. The snares have been bountiful this morning. Half a dozen rabbits are tucked away in your saddlebag, ready to be delivered to the guys in the kitchen.

Scout shifts beneath you, his nose sending fluffy snowflakes into the air as he searches for a snack beneath the snow. With a shift in the reins and a squeeze of your thighs, the pair of you head along a low ridge. A break in the trees offers you a breathtaking view of the vast mountain range. The snowcapped mountains and low-hanging clouds never fail to take your breath away. You’re about to head back down into the trees when you spot him - a huge mule deer meandering through the plain below.

You secure the reins to a nearby tree and trudge through the thick blanket of snow until you find a good spot to lie on your belly. The rifle is frigid against your cheek as you settle in for a shot so easy that it almost feels unfair. But winter is hard and a buck that size could feed a lot of hungry mouths back home. A stillness settles over you as you line up the shot. Muscle memory takes over; in the lull between breaths, your finger squeezes the trigger. The bullet enters just below the shoulder. The buck lurches and staggers a few futile steps before it falls a few yards away, staining the untouched snow crimson.

By the time you get the buck secured on Scout’s back, you’re soaked in sweat and the sun is high in the sky, still lurking behind the clouds. Every inch of your body aches. A particular stiffness has made its home in your legs and back, the kind that only comes from straddling a horse for hours on end. Hauling yourself up into the saddle with your weary arms is a herculean effort. You give Scout a grateful pat as the two of you begin the trek back to Jackson. Both of you deserve a good meal and some rest after all this hard work. You can feel the temptation of your bed calling your name.

The bright rays of the early morning sun finally spill onto the earth as the clouds dissipate. You lean back with a hum, eagerly soaking in the warmth. These little things are all that keep you sane in the crazy world you’ve found yourself living in. A sunny day, some hot tea with a little honey, soft blankets to wrap yourself up in at night - and maybe the company of a good man. Your face warms even more at the thought of him.

Joel Miller, the infamous eldest Miller brother, who may not be as cold as he makes himself out to be. Only a few days have passed since you coaxed him into your home in those early morning hours. You haven’t been able to get him off your mind since. His mere presence tugs at your very core, a siren song of stolen glances and secret smiles. The way he wants you leaves you breathless. It’s irrevocable in its wholeness and hunger, a little intimidating in its intensity. It should unnerve you; instead, you find yourself returning it wholeheartedly. You’ve learned the hard way to hold tight to any joy this world lets you have.

The walls of Jackson creep into view before you realize how much time has passed. The sound of those massive wooden gates groaning open sends relief washing over you. With a nudge of your heels at Scout’s sides, the two of you head for the mess hall at a slight jog. All you want is to drop off the game and collapse onto your couch for a long nap.

Those thoughts drift away at the sight of Joel and Tommy making their way down the dirt road. That one glimpse is all your one-track mind needs to be right back on Joel. His head turns sharply as you call out his name and you wave your hand in the air to draw his eye. You can tell the exact moment he realizes it's you - he does a double-take and his broad shoulders draw back as he straightens his posture. Even from this distance, you can see the smile on his face. You can’t help but return it.

Tommy lets out a whistle as they draw closer. “Someone’s been busy!”

“I couldn’t get back to sleep thing morning, so I checked the snares early.” You admit with a shrug. “I might have gotten a little lucky on the way back.”

“A little? This thing’s gotta be… what, two hundred pounds?” The pure admiration in Tommy’s voice makes your face heat up. The surge of pride warms you against the cold.

“Probably more if my strained back is any proof.” You chuckle as you unhook your left foot from the stirrup.

Tommy moves as if to help you down, but Joel steps in with a quiet, “I’ve got her.” You slip your hand into his and Joel eases you onto your feet. His other hand comes to rest on your lower back, his touch lingering as you stretch and shake out your stiff limbs. You don’t miss the knowing look Tommy gives you both, but all you can focus on his the weight of Joel’s hand against you.

“Ya alright?” He murmurs. You can just barely feel his thumb caressing your back through the thick material of your coat. A small, soothing motion that makes you want to melt into him.

“I’m okay. Just a little tired.” You reassure him softly, leaning into his touch without thinking about it. He offers you that small smile you adore. “I need to get this all taken care of but… Maybe we can catch up after if you aren’t busy.”

Tommy interrupts before Joel can even open his mouth, telling you that you’ve done more than enough heavy lifting for one morning. You know better than to press the issue - no amount of arguing can ever change that stubborn man’s mind. Tommy slings an arm over Joel’s shoulder and jostles him with a playful grin. “Go on and take care of your girl, big brother.”

There’s no denying the flush of heat that rushes up your neck and cheeks. Joel’s girl. Your teeth sink into your lower lip in a vain attempt to hide the smile it brings. Joel shoves his little brother’s arm off and glares at him in return, but he isn’t fooling anyone. The rosy color that tints his cheeks and the tips of his ears suits him, you think. Joel pulls your hand up into the crook of his arm and leads you down the road toward your house. You don’t have to look to know Tommy is watching, probably with that same grin and a twinkle in his eye.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence and you take a moment to appreciate how he looks in the morning sun. Even though he’s squinting against the brightness, you can see how the light transforms his pretty brown eyes. Warm and deep like the perfect cup of coffee on a lazy Sunday morning. You watch him, enraptured by the sight of his tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

The crinkles around his eyes deepen as he directs his squinted gaze at you. “What are you starin’ for?”

“You’re handsome.” You say matter-of-factly.

Your smile only grows when he rolls his eyes, a vain attempt to hide how he preens under the compliment. He mutters something about ‘not needing to butter him up’ but he still walks a little taller nonetheless. The years seem to disappear in moments like this. His eyes shine a little brighter. The harsh clench of his teeth is easier to ease into a smile. You’ve watched the edge he carries start to soften these last few months in Jackson, something you remember all too well from that first strange year of adjusting.

Joel gives you a soft smile as you push open your front door and lead him inside. He makes himself right at home, not hesitating to hang up his coat and tuck his boots next to yours. With the heaviest layers discarded, you finally surrender to the urge to get your hands on him. Joel hums low in his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes you tightly. You weren't the only one aching for a little comfort.

“Fuck, I'm so tired.” You grumble, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I didn't realize just how bad it was until now.”

“You've been runnin' around all morning on no sleep, sweetheart.” His hands rub up and down your back soothingly. “I was thinking I could get a fire goin’ while you relax. I’ll even make some of that tea you like. How does that sound?”

Something in your chest loosens, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying. Such thoughtfulness and kindness have been in short supply these last few years. You can count on one hand how many times someone has been so attentive. The simple act of being seen - you didn’t realize just how much you’ve missed it. It’s enough to have you like putty in the palm of his hands.

“That sounds perfect.” You say as you press up on your toes, your nose brushing his. “But I need a kiss first, Mr. Miller.”

Joel chuckles before he gives you exactly what you want, just a soft and sweet kiss. The warmth of his palm on your cheek brings back memories of that night. The way he tugged you into his lap. The heat of his tongue and teeth at your neck. The desperate curiosity of his hands exploring your body for the first time. The memory leaves you a little dazed and needy, warmth simmering low in your belly. Even this chaste kiss exposes how much you ache for him - your fingers curl into his flannel, keeping him close as your lips linger a hair's breadth apart. He gives you one last kiss before he pulls away.

“Go get comfortable, baby.” He says with a playful pat on your behind before disappearing into your kitchen.

It isn’t long before you find yourself curled up on the couch in your tank top and leggings with a steaming mug of tea in your hands. Another mug waits on the coffee table as Joel tosses some wood into the fireplace. You indulge yourself in the sight he makes kneeling on the hardwood. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up past his elbow to expose his forearms. His eyebrows draw together in focus as he patiently coaxes a flame from the dry wood. Warmth curls through the room as the fire catches and spreads across the logs and twigs. He stands with a small groan and stretches, the hem of his shirt riding up to expose his soft belly.

A small smirk crosses his face when he sees you watching him so eagerly. Joel snags his mug and settles in next to you, welcoming you into his arms with ease. The two of you talk about the last few days - your hunting, his construction projects, the smallest ins and outs of the time not spent together. The rumble of his chest relaxes you even more than the tea ever could. His palm strokes along your shoulder and arm absentmindedly as he listens to you rant about the latest spat with your neighbor.

“She swears up and down that my bedroom light keeps her up all night. She even complained to Maria about it!” You’ve sat up straight at this point, your hands waving about as you speak. “Joel. My bedroom doesn’t even face her house!”

“That woman could start a fight in an empty house. Can’t take anything she says to heart.” Joel scoffs, his voice laced with irritation. You can’t help but laugh at the genuine exasperation in his voice. “What? You can’t tell me she isn’t a massive pain in the ass.”

“No, she definitely is.” You say as you sit up to get a good look at him. “I just missed you and your southern-isms is all.”

“My ‘southern-isms’?” He teases. His eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your gaze once more. “Is that all you missed?”

“Hmmm,” You hum in faux contemplation as you lean closer, your fingers toying with the buttons of his flannel. “Maybe not all I missed…”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. His calloused hand cups your jaw and he pulls you into a kiss. His tongue glides along the seam of your lips and you part them without pause. Joel groans as your tongue meets his, sitting up until he practically looms over you. His other hand falls to your waist and tightens as if to trap you there. As if you could imagine ever trying to break free of him. Kissing Joel is as easy as breathing - a natural, aching need that you’re sure would kill you if not sated.

You slowly undo the buttons of his flannel until the soft material falls down his shoulders, quickly shoved off by Joel’s intent hands. It’s so easy to fall into him, to lean into his warmth and lose yourself in his touch. The day’s pains fade as his hand drifts down to your neck, his thumb resting on the hinge of your jaw. A cavernous wanting cracks open in your chest, something you have been resisting for far too long. You press closer, intent on climbing your way into his lap and carrying on right where you last left off -

Something sharp and painful twists in your back, protesting the way you lean over him. A pained sound filters through your gritted teeth and Joel pulls back, concern written all over his face. You try to brush it off and draw him back to you, but he isn’t having it. He doesn’t have to voice the question for you to know the question that lingers in his eyes.

“I just strained my back a little, it’s okay.” You reassure him, your hand brushing his stubbled cheek. “You don’t need to worry. I promise.”

He studies you for a moment, something unknown blooming in his gaze. “How about a massage?”

Part of you wants to argue that you're fine, that you just want to keep kissing him until you lose all sense - but you can't resist the allure of those strong hands on your body. Joel moves the coffee table out of the way and turns to find you tugging your tank top off. You never thought you could feel irresistible in just a sports bra and leggings, but the way Joel’s gaze lingers… the man looks like he could eat you alive. His eyes never leave you as you stretch out on the fluffy rug that lies in front of the fireplace. The heat of the fire feels like heaven against your bare skin. Your breath catches as he straddles your hips, careful not to press too much of his weight into you.

His voice is low in your ear. “Where does it hurt, baby?”

“My shoulders and my lower back.” You reply, trying your best not to sound as breathless as you feel.

Joel gets right to it. His hands find the base of your neck first, carefully kneading the knots out of your muscles. The tension slowly begins to melt away under his firm, methodical touch. It's the perfect kind of ache, right on the cusp of pain but so damn good at the same time. He takes his time, lavishing every inch of your shoulders with attention. Every firm press of his fingers draws a pleased groan from your lips. A shiver wracks your body as the pain is replaced with a warm pulse of relief.

“Oh my god…” You groan as you bury your face in your arms.

“How ya feelin’?” He murmurs.

“Good,” You damn near sound drunk. “So good.”

Joel chuckles low in his throat as he shifts to your lower back. It would be impossible to miss the tightness in your muscles. The worst of the pain lingers there - but it's no match for Joel’s strong hands. The sounds you make are downright pornographic. You haven't felt this relaxed in years. Joel's fingers dig in harder with every little sound you make, his breath becoming shaky. The effect you have on him is so painfully clear and you just know you're already addicted to it.

His hands come to rest at the small of your back, his thumbs tracing arcs along your skin. His fingertips dip just beneath the waistband of your leggings. The soft touch tickles, makes you shift beneath him and… oh. You can just barely feel his cock straining against the thick denim of his jeans. Joel draws in a breath through clenched teeth, his fingers digging harder into your flesh.

“I bet your legs are achin’, too.” There's a gruffness in his voice that hides beneath that faux contemplation. His huge palms squeeze the back of your thighs, his thumbs pressed so close to your core. “Aren't they, darlin’?”

It takes a moment for the realization to surface in your blissed-out mind - he's asking for permission. You grant it without a second thought.

“Mhmm,” You hum indulgently, shifting your hips beneath him. “Gonna take care of me, cowboy?”

Joel pushes his hand between your thighs and palms your cunt through your leggings. He draws in a shuddering breath. “I always take care of my girl.”

You arch into the touch with a whimper of his name. That’s the only encouragement he needs to manhandle you onto your back. The two of you work in tandem with impatient, fumbling hands to tug away the few layers of clothes that still separate you. You manage to strip him down to his briefs before Joel grabs your thighs and pulls you closer, leaving you flat on your back beneath him. Vulnerable in the most enticing, aching way. His tongue flicks out along his bottom lip as he takes in the way you look beneath him, all that skin finally bared to his greedy gaze.

Joel doesn’t give you long to admire him before he slinks down your body, his eyes never leaving yours. You spread your legs further, little murmurs of ‘yes, yes, yes’ falling from your lips in an endless stream of pleas. There’s no room to feel ashamed of your desperation. You’re too consumed with the need to feel that sinful tongue right where you need it most - and Joel is nothing if not a giver. His shaky exhale ghosts across your soaked cunt, cooling the slick that already coats your inner thighs. His eyes flick back to yours as his tongue curls a long, slow pass up your slit.

Your head falls back as the heat of his tongue blossoms through your core. Joel groans against you and something in him seems to break. His tongue swirls over your clit with a frenzied need that makes your hips jerk in surprise. The grip he has on your thighs tightens, holding you open right where he wants you. There’s no use in biting your tongue - even if you didn’t love what your sounds do to him, you couldn’t hold back if you tried. You grind against his face, breathy moans escaping your lips with every exhale. Every little sound you make is met with one of his own. He licks and sucks at your most sensitive places, feasting on your cunt like a man starved. It strikes you just how much he loves this. He’s fucking good at it, too - attentive and thorough and so fucking hungry.

You can’t stop yourself from burying your fingers in his hair and digging your heel into his shoulder, grinding down against that sinful tongue. Two calloused fingers glide along your cunt before one sinks in, quickly followed by the other. His fingers are so thick, curling and stretching until all you can do is tremble beneath him. It doesn’t take long for him to find that sweet spot that has your cunt fluttering around him. Pleasure pools low in your belly and your skin prickles in anticipation as he drives you ever closer to that sweet edge - and he can’t get enough of it.

You look down to find his eyes still locked on you, roiling with darkness even in the flickering firelight. It’s the fiery determination in those pretty eyes that finally does it. You fall apart beneath him, crying his name with every flush of pleasure that falls over you. Joel makes a feral sound, mangled and trapped in his throat. He doesn’t - no, he can’t stop; his tongue swirls slow circles over your clit until you’re trembling in the aftershocks. His fingers slip from your sensitive cunt, only to dig into your thighs and keep you anchored to his mouth. You know fingertip-shaped bruises will mottle your soft skin soon. You revel at the thought. It isn’t until you whine for him to stop, that it’s too much, that he finally relents.

“So good… my sweet fuckin’ girl.” He murmurs, a possessive edge dripping from his tone. Joel sits back and admires the mess he’s made of you. His hands never leave your body. They trail up and down your thighs, then along your sides and back again. Worshipful. Doting. Greedy.

The shiver of sensitivity isn’t enough to quell the need that pulses through your body with every beat of your heart. You push yourself up and drag him into a kiss, reveling in the taste of yourself still lingering on his tongue. There’s nothing refined about it, but that’s what you need. You don’t want perfectly poised Joel and the guarded gaze that hides him from the world. You want this - the unraveled Joel, all tongue and teeth and roaming hands. The Joel that chokes on your name as your fingers lightly graze along his cock. The Joel that looks at you with a fire in your eyes that burns away even the coldest Wyoming winter.

Joel’s head falls back as you stroke his cock, his breath stuttering in his chest. You can’t resist the temptation of his neck and your lips quickly find a home there. His huge hand cups the back of your head, holding you close as your lips and teeth worry marks into his skin. His hips jerk up to meet your hand and a deliciously needy sound meets your ears. A thrill shoots through you at the effect you have on him. It’s heady, addictive.

It doesn’t take much urging to get him right where you want him - leaned back against the couch with you in his lap. Your impatience gets the better of you the moment you feel the weight of cock press against your inner thigh. He watches you with a heavy, lust-drunk gaze as you sink onto him slowly. Even with the preparation of his fingers and tongue, you aren't ready for the stretch - a sweet, aching sensation that steals the breath from your lungs. Your eyes flutter shut as you settle into his lap, his cock twitching deep in your belly.

“That’s it… that’s my girl.” The possessive praise slips down your spine, hot and syrupy. He can’t keep his hands in one place. They glide along your back and squeeze at your thighs, his nails digging into your soft skin. It isn’t to urge you on, to guide you into movement. Only to feel you against him, every inch of your skin against his. His words are quiet and gruff, full of reverence. “Take your time, baby.”

You were never good at taking instructions.

Your hips grind down into his lap, driving him impossibly deeper. Twin groans melt into the hot air that surrounds you. One hand braces against the edge of the couch, the other anchored at the curve where his neck and shoulder meet. His hands tighten at your hips, a bruising grip that only encourages every rise and fall of your hips. Your breath leaves you in a rush every time you bottom out, forced from your lungs by the sheer depths he reaches. A rough curse falls from his lips as you keep that pace, relentless in your chase for more. Joel’s lips find yours in a messy rush of tongue and teeth. His touch brands into every inch of your skin, sears his claim with every bruise and bite. All you can feel and taste and smell is him. He surrounds you until all that exists is this.

Divine.

Joel leans back just enough to get a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Your skin sweat-slick and littered with his marks, your teeth sunk into your lower lip, your thighs trembling with every rock of your hips. You’ve never felt more beautiful than in this moment. More desirable. More seen. His gaze darkens as it falls to your cunt, pupils dilating as he watches you take him over and over again.

The sight must break the trance you’ve put him under. His hips jerk up to meet yours and the sudden movement sends you reeling. The embers of lingering sensitivity reignite as Joel fucks up into you. He drags you down by your waist to meet every thrust - all you can do is take it. The bite of your nails into his shoulders only encourages him. Every thrust grinds into that sweet spot so hard your vision goes spotty. Your eyes flutter shut, content to let him drag you over the edge again. Until his hand grips your jaw and draws your face close to his.

“Eyes on me.” Joel rasps. “Y’look so pretty when you come for me. Let me see you, baby.”

All you can do is whine his name and lean into his hand, but Joel is all too happy to keep you held there. Right where he wants you. Your cunt tightens around him, pulses with every beat of your heart. It’s plain on his face how it damn near sends him over the edge. His lips parted and his brows furrowed. Those breathless sounds flow without restraint. He watches you with those intent eyes, taking in every reaction you give him.

All you can do is cling to him as another orgasm unfurls in your belly, explosive and devastating. Joel’s thrusts stutter but don’t stop, and it feels never-ending. It consumes you, washes over the essence of your very being until you’re left trembling in its wake. Joel whispers his encouragement, laced with gruff curses that descend into choked-off moans as he spills inside of you.

The world goes still. The room fills with the sound of soft panting and the crackle of firewood. You feel weightless, lost in the warmth of his body beneath you. Joel blinks up at you, his eyes glossy with satisfaction but no less intent. He studies your face for a beat and you just smile back, a dizzied little grin that tells him everything he needs to know. You see a hint of a smirk curl the edge of his lips before he draws you into a messy kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and his taste draws a satisfied moan from you. He drinks it in, ever greedy for anything and everything you give him.

You don’t know what it is - the back-breaking start to your day, the two orgasms, or the pure relief of being in his arms - but it takes a while for your thoughts to come forth through the daze. It’s strange to feel so exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. Joel’s warm, calloused hands rub up and down your back, over and over in an endless path that leaves you sleepy against his chest. The position… isn’t great. You can already feel the ache budding in your knees, but you don’t want to move. All you want is to feel the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

It doesn’t take him long to notice.

“C’mon, baby,” Joel murmurs. You can feel the vibration of his voice against you, deep and lulling. He squeezes your hips in an attempt to get you moving. “Gonna be hurtin’ all over again if we keep this up.”

You hum a noncommittal sound, busying yourself with the taste of his skin on your tongue. He tastes of sweat and woodsmoke and something so distinctly Joel. You can’t help but tease along his collarbone with your teeth and tongue. Joel’s resolve crumbles under the heat of your touch. He squeezes your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You can feel his softening cock twitch inside you with every open-mouthed kiss you press into his skin. It doesn’t take long to find the perfect spot - that strong cord of muscle where his shoulder and neck meet. You worry your teeth against it before soothing it with a soft lick, only to repeat it over and over until a dark mark settles into his skin. You lean back with a satisfied hum to take in the little piece of artwork you’ve bitten into him.

He blinks at you dazedly. He squeezes your waist as if assuring himself this is real, that you’re truly here. The confirmation seems to clear the haze in those pretty brown eyes.

“How about a bath?” He asks, still a little breathless.

You have to give him credit - he knows just the right buttons to push.

Moments later, you find yourself perched on the bathroom counter, naked as the day you were born, as he draws a scalding bath - just the way you like it. Joel sits against the edge of the bathtub, his hand cupped beneath the stream of water to monitor its temperature. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to fall on you. You give him a smile - soft, satisfied, a little sleepy. His gaze trails down your body, lingering on the various marks that have just started to truly show. His marks, the ones he branded into you with his hands and his teeth. You never thought someone could look so sated yet starving at the same time.

That look lingers as he helps you lower into the hot water, as you coax him in alongside you, as he settles you against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. It never falters as he drags a soapy washcloth over your skin or when you demand he let you show him the same attention. It’s still there when your fingers turn pruny and the water loses most of its heat, and he finally pulls you from the bath.

He doesn’t leave your home until the sun begins to set, painting the skies with bright oranges and pinks. He leaves you on the couch, tucked under a soft blanket with your book in your hands. With a soft kiss, he promises to come back once he makes sure Ellie is settled in at home rather than off in some kind of trouble. He returns an hour later, his cheeks tinged pink from the frigid air. It takes one look at you for him to collapse into you, ignoring the ‘oof’ sound you give when his weight fully sinks into you. The cold tip of his nose presses into your neck and he shoves his hands beneath your back, and you swear you only complain a little as he warms himself up with your body.

The weight of his body is comforting. Your fingers rake through the curls at the back of his head and you can’t help but chuckle at the pleased groan Joel gives in return. Your free hand props your book up on his shoulder. Something warm and content settles in your chest, fills the spaces between your ribs with belonging. This is all you could need in this life. The glowing embers in your fireplace, a good book to get lost in, and Joel Miller softly snoring on your chest. You let a few chapters pass before accepting the sleepiness that tugs at your eyelids.

“Joel,” You run a firm hand down his spine, gently coaxing him to the waking world. “Baby, you’re falling asleep.”

Joel just shifts slightly on top of you, muttering a completely dignified ‘nuh-uh’ into your chest. You huff out a laugh. Ridiculous. You nudge his ribs with your knee.

“C’mon, Joel. I’d much rather have you in my bed.”

That does it, even though he still grumbles about how he definitely wasn’t falling asleep as you drag him up the stairs. It doesn’t take long for sleep to take you both this time, with his face tucked back into your neck and your hand buried in his hair. That night, when you wake before the sun, you bury yourself into Joel’s side and tangle your legs with his. You inhale, long and slow, and the scent of him mixed with your soap settles the restlessness that stirred in your mind. Sleep finds you once more just a few moments later, safe in your lover’s arms.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you smut #joel miller x y/n

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handageddon · 8 months ago

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I think the big issue with the way that schemas/attachment disorders/idk probably other psychiatry things is that it's like.

Worded as

Well the patient will be "afraid" to form connections, they will "avoid" emotions, do all those EVIL BAD PERSON behaviors because they are afraid of abandonment or being hurt. So these "professionals" will try to trigger that response only like. My whole thing is that I'm not afraid of these relationships or actively avoiding them I just literally do not know how to do that. But it's like... well we need to work on your avoidance. You say you would go on walks but would never talk to any classmates... like bro they were avoiding ME. I was very unpleasant to be around, because children are self centered and think they are the ones being victimized when someone else is being abused. I was just minding my own business.

I don't have a bad evil BPD meltdown when it's brought up that I will never see my mom again because my life is functionally the same, and emotionally better off without her. Even recently as up to this year I would come across something and want to share it with her because she is my mom and I love her. But as a source of support or comfort I lost nothing. As a source of stress I felt a positive sense of loss. And so I don't get triggered when these people try to play games with me like... oh Val we will never have another therapy session again! And I'm just like, 👍. Started from nothing, gone back to nothing, lost nothing. And then they try to schedule another appointment.

I just need simple advice on how. How, how, how. I can't do literally any of the shit they say that's ripped off the front page of Google because I just don't know how. I'm not being defiant or disobedient when I question what they mean, I'm just insecure. I simply know from experience, lots and lots of experience, that I'm doing everything wrong somehow.

I'm just a circuit that's stuck open, and every experience in my life has been a terminal short, a burnt trace, or a vengeful break in the line. And I can't get started because I don't have the resources to close at any point. "OH but that's just learned helplessness, not actual trauma." Yes, but the dogs in those experiences still needed external help to undo their "not actual trauma"

I don't respect mallows hierarchy of needs because how am I supposed to have a safe and meaningful sex life if I don't have self actualization. I don't respect that comic of the guy pretending he's stuck in a jail cell because I'm not in a prison, I'm in an oubliette, and when I try to walk out I get thrown back in. And then the guards get mad at me because they have to spend all their time keeping me in here? SMH my head.

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herebetumbles · 1 month ago

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New Dndads Today!! SPOILERS

Spoilers for today's episode of dndads!!!

Milton finally spoke up on how he's feeling about being treated! And was brushed off. I wonder what Will is planning now, especially because Milton has gone from creepy adoration to at least some form of dislike towards Kelsey. It's a funny bit now, but I am fully anticipating the moment where it all comes crashing down. Will there be an emotional conversation that will lead to the betterment of their little patched up found family? Or is Milton going to end up betraying them somehow because of his bitterness. I don't think he's at that point right now, but if there's some kind of trigger or turning point, then I will not be surprised in the slightest.

I do kinda wish we had heard how BB feels about being similarly brushed off most of the time despite being helpful from the get-go, but I loved her Teacher moment! BB needs more appreciation smh

Also, are we about to see a Kelsey Corruption arc?? The way she started out calling the Andersen brothers bad guys, then upon defining it, realized that by that definition she was a bad person- I'm sniffing a corruption arc of some kind in her future. Maybe even manipulation on the part of Zhuzel? (Idk how to spell his name lol)

Either way, I cant wait to see how everyone's characters grow!

(And yes, I am totally fine after Brunhilde using the nickname "love" ahfbnakl I would not survive her if I were in Francis' shoes. Speaking of Francis, the whole forgiving scene was wholesome, but very interesting. Also, homie lost his leg and willingly had part of his arm shaved off. Poor guy needs a rest and some ice cream and probably a couple hugs

#dndads #the peachyville horror #dndads s3 #Newest episode #I am totally normal about this podcast #fan theory #kelsey grammer #trudy trout #francis farnsworth #britannica blue #milton #brunhilde

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 2 years ago

Note

I have like MULTIPLE ideas so like, i think i should list them all just for you and you can basically just pick the one you actually feel like writing 🫶

Hobies younger sibling!Reader x Pavitr: Basically you and Hobie were both bitten by the same spider and like you both got recruited to the Spider Society together and like Hobie decides to introduce you to his friend, Pavitr, in which you were completely mesmerized of in which you didnt even realized you started falling for him.

Love triangle: Reader is torn inbetween choosing to love Pavitr or Spider-man, just not entirely knowing that they were the same person.

Recconecting: You and Pavitr were childhood bestfriends, yet inbetween your frienship, you had to move away. You guys were still in touch aswell, and little did Pavitr know, you decided to surprise him by finally moving back to your hometown where you and Pavitr used to live.

Have fun writing what you want, these are just udeas that's been stuck on my head yet i'm too lazy to write smh 😭🙏

Mutually Inclusive

🕷 Masterlist 🕷

A/N: I am sooo sorry for the delay I just couldn't choose ONE!! all of these are so good I wanna do eveythinggggg ASDFGHJKSKSK but since i'm a Sucker for the 2nd trope..

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x reader Summary: You are torn between choosing to love Pavitr and Spider-man, just not entirely knowing that they are the same person. Tags: Love Triangle-ish, Secret Identity, Flirting, Pet Names, lack of self preservation ⚠️Trigger Warning: Near death experiences ⚠️

Also read on AO3

C'mon, he said. It'll be fun, he said.

You huff and roll your eyes standing in the middle of the crowded bazaar. Pavitr Prabhakar, AKA your best friend, had somehow convinced you to go for a vadapav, claiming it was The Best in all of Mumbattan and gotten you stranded in the middle of the biggest and most crowded market of the country. According to him, it was a ""#divine experience"" and ""relief to your taste buds."" The last line being met with a slap to his head.

"Stay right here and don't stray."

You send him away with a playful punch to his shoulder.

That was an hour ago. He'd left you standing at a corner to buy you guys a plate and still hadn't returned. You huff and tap your foot impatiently, licking your ice-cream and wondering what the hell is taking him so long. Buying vadapav can't be that hard.

All of sudden, people around you begin to run and yell and make way for something.

Very belatedly you realize a truck has lost it's way and is now coming right at you in full speed. You freeze on the spot, unable to move, paralyzed by mortal fear.

This is a terrible way to die!

It's like your motor controls failed all of a sudden. You can feel the angry squeals of the tyres and the horn blaring wildly from where you're standing. None of the onlookers dared to move, frozen in shock themselves.

You dare to blink, accepting your ill-fate. Heart thumping loudly in your chest, the beat in your ears, you stand in the middle of street like a deer caught in headlights. 'This is it', you think, frightened, Pavitr being your last thought in that moment.

As quick as a flash, you're being swept off into the air and landed safely in a quite secluded place nearby.

The squeak of tyres against the asphalt still rings in your ears, the loud crash of the truck colliding with a wall still shaking your bones. You peek from behind your human shield and faintly realized no damage has been done, except probably to the wall and the truck.

As if you only then come back into your body, the fact that you looked death in the eye finally catches up to you, releasing the breath you didn't know you were holding.

Your eyes shamelessly trail down your savior. Wow. Oh my god. It's him, it's Spider-man! The superhero you admire a lot (and low key have a crush on)! And he's hugging you! "Oh thank god, you're okay!", he bursts out and then seems to remember himself, recovering quite clumsily with a stiff pat to your shoulder. "Uh, I meant, you're a beautiful stranger that I do not know!"

Good lawd, did Spider-man just call you 'beautiful'?! (Poor Pavitr's never gonna hear the end of it).

"T-thank you, for saving me", you say, mesmerized by him. He runs a hand through his his luscious raven curls waving in the chilly evening breeze (why does that feel familiar?)

"My pleasure, gorgeous. I don't usually play knight in shining armour, but I can make an exception."

Was he..?! OMG.

Spider-man. Just. Flirted. With. You!

His smile is so bright and radiant, contagious, and the wink that followed does nothing to help stop your fluttering heart. A smirk pulls at his lips -and you gotta admit, it is pretty hot- with which he disappears into the rosy evening of the dazzling Mumbattan sky. You sigh dreamily, rubbing your arms together as you walk outside, totally not thinking about the mysterious yet no less magnetic eyes behind the mask.

"Y/n? Where did you leave!?"

"I left you?" You turn around slowly. One look at the vadapav-lover before you and he shuts up.

_______

You are not thinking about him. Not at all. Not in class, not in the shower, not on your bed when you were supposed to be doing homework, not on the TV or getting excited at even the mention of him on the news. Nope, no sir. Not at all. Nu-uh.

Okay, maybe a little.

Pavitr rolls his eyes, snapping his book shut. You guys were supposed to be studying together but all he did was listen to you gush about your superhero crush. "Really, Y/N, what do you even see in him anyway?"

"He's smart, he's intelligent-"

Pav mumbles something, but you ignore him all the same.

"-he's handsome, he's talented, he saves people, he fights evil... he's a nice guy. Heart of gold. He is Spider-man!", you exclaim in exasperation, your fingers doing wild gestures in the air as he watches you amused.

Pavitr chuckles. "Don't get me wrong, I think he's pretty neat too, but you gotta admit: he can't hold a candle to me."

"Oh, fo' sho'", you shoot back sardonically.

"You see Y/N, the real question is.. is he a romantic like me?"

"Are you now?"

Pavitr then seemed to flip into a total Romeo mode, easing back on the chair and running a hand through his raven locks. "Hey, sweetlips", he begins in a deeper baritone, "tonight I was thinking-"

"-Of doing your homework? I hope it's doing your homework, Pavi beta! Good grades speak for themselves, you know", Maya aunty chimes in from the kitchen.

Pav blushes, replying a slightly embarrassed affirmation and goes back to studying.

You snort behind your palm, unaware that your heart is already melting.

_______

The next time you meet Spider-man is at a fair. You went there with Pavitr, a night full of cheesy pick-up lines and horrible puns not letting the smile fall from your lips for even a fraction of a second. It's all fun and games, Gayatri leaving you two alone and unsupervised -a bad decision, really- to go off with her crush. You play more games, help a cute little boy win a hedgehog plushie and then wander around aimlessly until Pavitr disappears to buy more snacks.

You were standing beneath the gigantic Ferris wheel, munching on your corn while something akin to the sound of a dying whale catches your ears. Turning around, you realize the Ferris wheel has lost balance and is about to fall.

It is utter chaos. The crowd goes haywire, scared people bumping into each other in haste to get away and panic. You find safety but seeing the little boy from earlier run towards the falling machinery to retrieve his plushie stops your heart. Without another thought, you run after him.

Its too late, now. The metal joints have come off and there are mere seconds for it's fall. You shield the little boy with yourself and shut your eyes tight, waiting for your impending doom, looking up in shock when it doesn't come.

The boy lets out a tiny gasp. "Spider-man!"

Indeed, the famous wall-crawler stands before you, webbing up the steel rods of the wheel. It's basically being held together by his sticky solution. You watch as he places a number of steel columns to hold up the broken part of the wheel and only moves from the place once he's sure it will sustain a bit longer.

Applauds rise from all around and people cheer, worried parents thanking him for returning their son in one piece. His eyes finally turn to you dusting dirt off your dress and you catch his in a mesmerizing gaze like before.

He offers you his hand and pulls you up in one -admittedly sexy- move.

"God, I was so worrie-!", he says before stopping himself.

There it is again, the familiar unfamiliarity. It puts you on alarm but also melts your heart -if that makes sense.

"Thanks again, for saving me. I owe you."

"You owe me nothing, sweetlips. Just.. keep yourself safe, okay?" With a wink, your masked heartthrob disappears into the skies again.

Okay, he definitely called you a pet name. That's gotta mean something, right?

Pavitr finds you right after, hugging you and thanking every God in existence that you're alive. You calm him down and decide to go home -that was enough for one day- but you just can't help wondering where you had heard that pet name before.

Sweetlips..

_______

Was it normal to be in love with two guys? Should you have to choose?

One is sweet ol' beloved Pavitr: charming, good-hearted, witty, amazing hair, humorous, cheesy puns, vadapav-lover. The other being literally ✨️Spider-man! ✨️

And you loved them both equally; torn between two good-hearted guys you cared about. This was torture.

But weirder than that, you felt you were missing something. Like you know it, it's at the tip of your tongue but you just can't seem to know what! Not to mention the weird coincidence of Spider-man's and Pav's pet names for you.

Argh, love is a disaster.

_____

Pavitr is walking you home from school that day when you decide to tell him everything.

You had chosen your best friend.

Not that he knew there was someone else but.. for some reason, you feel guilty for not choosing Spider-man and that weighed on you. You figured telling your bestie would ease atleast a little of it.

"Hey, Pav?"

He hums, his raven-wing hair whipping as he turns around, coming to a stop beside you. "Yes, meri jaan?"

Some of the ice cream you were licking has smeared on your nose and with a playfully disapproving look, Pav reaches out and wipes it off.

See, it's the little things like these that make you fall for him even more.

"I need to tell you something. I.. You know how I love Spider-man, right? I mean, I talk about him all the time, but.. -ugh, God, I'm so terrible at this!" You cut yourself off with an embarrassed chuckle as he patiently watches you, amused. "What I'm really trying to say is-"

"HELP! HELP- AHHHH!"

The sudden cry catches you off guard and you startle. Pavitr is gone when you look for him and -assuming he's gone to get help- you run towards the direction of the voice. It comes from an alley nearby and you go there just in time to see Spider-man web up a couple of goons and leave them hanging upside down from a light post, the elderly lady nearby thanking him profusely.

When he spots you, his face immediately brightens. "Hey", he says, breathless, walking towards you, "do you happen to have a Band-Aid by any chance?"

"Ye-"

" 'Cause I just scraped my knee falling for you."

Oh no, not again. Not your heart melting into a puddle, not right now! (Be strong Y/N!)

But all you can get out is a dreamy, "Spider-man"

The vigilante hero suddenly falls quiet, hesitating. "I, uh, actually have something to tell you"

Your heart thumps so loudly in your chest, you can hear it in your ears! It won't be what you were thinking. Surely not.

(Technically, you haven't chosen yet. And, you don't have to choose only one of them, right?)

"Listen, I.. I think I love you."

Oh. Oh..

"I'm sorry", you sigh, feeling real bad for the superhero standing before you.

His face falls under the mask, and that more than anything else, breaks your heart.

You shouldn't do this to him. It's cruel, really. This guy is out here risking his life yet here you are, breaking his heart. It's painful for both of you.

"I like you", you say, "very much! But I can't.. you're a superhero and I'm just an ordinary person, I rather not risk both our lives."

He is still, very still. A moment later, he finally speaks. "You love someone else." It wasn't a question.

"It's my best friend, Pavitr. He's.. God, he's everything to me. I'm sorry. It's a probably a bad decision, but it's mine."

To your shock, a wide smile pulls at his lips, his face almost glowing -you feel it more than seeing it. "I think it's the best decision."

The spider-hero stands tall, and in a flash, rips off his mask. His curly hair rustles in the wind, eyes sparkling with mischief -the eyes you've known so well, more than your own; those very same hypnotizing brown eyes.

"At least to me, meri jaan."

This little shit-

"I apologize, I haven't totally been honest with you", he chuckles when you grab him by the collar, pulling you close as you playfully punch him in the chest.

YOU KNEW IT! You knew he was too familiar!

"Me neither. Although..", you smirk, "now that I think about it, I actually love Spider-man more."

"Guess I have to settle for heartbreak then", he sighs dramatically, hugging you closer. "Hey, you don't happen to be a vigilante superhero with amazing hair by any chance, do you?"

You slap his head before pulling your best friend in for a kiss.

There's no one else you'd rather fall in love with.

------

🎶🎵"It's funny 'cause you drive me half insane A universe without you would be thoroughly mundane There's no one else I'd rather fall in love with And that is my best friend in the world"🎶🎵 'Best Friend' by Laufey

(someone in the notes pav was so Laufey coded so i went with that lol)

#pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitrx reader #pavitr prabhakar x female reader #pavitr x fem!reader #pavitr x reader #pavitr x gn reader #pavitr x male reader #pavitr prabhakar x fem reader #pavitr prabhakar x you #pavitr x you #pavitr x y/n #pavitr prabhakar x y/n #astv #Spider-Man #sony

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chickensoup-4-mysoul · 9 months ago

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herculean (drrr x f!reader) - chapter 14

Chapter 14 - Hair Trigger

synopsis: you witness anri acting strange in front of the yellow scarves and begin to piece two and two together. later, you finally take a glance at the folder that izaya 'gifted' to you.

word count: 3,181

warnings: horada being creepy smh, graphic descriptions of murder

"seven, six, five, four, three, two, one everybody got a name, everybody got a number,, seven - rainbow kitten surprise

The walk was silent, save for the sounds of rolling thunder and light footfalls. It had gotten dark now, and the two of you only had streetlamps to use as means of navigation. You eventually stopped at a park, suggesting that Anri use one of the public bathrooms to change out of the rest of her bunny outfit. She agrees, letting go of the hand she had held the entire walk there. As she changes, you keep watch outside, leaning against the side of the building. Your phone chimes with its billionth notification that night, and you're reminded of the forum. It would be best to update everyone, since they were so worried.

*roku*: She's safe with me, everyone. No Yellow Scarves in sight.

You smile as several messages of affirmation pop up. It was heartwarming how much these people cared about someone who they didn't even know. Anri finally emerges, holding the bunny uniform in her hands. "We'll have to figure out a way to get that guy his suit back, huh?" you chuckle softly. She's still sullen, as you'd expect, and you're content to be there for her until she started to feel better. Once she's close enough, you lay a hand on her back, rubbing a small, brief circle. "Hey, listen." She finally looks you in the eye, and the pure emotion swimming in them practically breaks your heart. "You're gonna be okay."

While her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes, you're happy to see that she's trying to cheer up.

"Hey! There she is!"

UGH you hate these guys.

You spot Horada clambering around a corner, accompanied by several gang members. It was the most of them you had seen all together in one spot. They stop in their tracks, doubling over in exhaustion from the strenuous chase. You position your body to shield Anri as Horada approaches, bearing a menacing smile. “Don’t even think about it, bitch! You may have gotten lucky last time, but you won’t stand a chance against all of us,” he taunts. However, he still maintains a noticeable distance from you.

You don’t gratify him with a response, only continuing to glare at him and cover Anri. On the inside, though, you trembled at the thought that he was right. There were definitely too many of them to get out of this unscathed. Horada stretches his neck to peer over your shoulder at Anri. “And you, come clean! You’re with the Dollars, aren’tcha!?” Your eyes narrow at the accusation. How stupid could they be to think that? A girl like Anri, involved with the Dollars? After a moment, you realized how long it had been since she had said anything.

You turn over your shoulder to get a look at the girl. She’s surprisingly still, not trembling or fidgeting. The white light of the streetlamp above you reflects from her glasses, obscuring her eyes. Anri wasn’t even looking at the man, chin tipped downward and gaze aimed at the floor.

“I’m not,” she says finally, steady and unmoved.

“The hell you’re not!! Quit lyin’ and tell us who the hell you think you are!” Horada spits. The group seems to be closing around the two of you more and more with every passing moment. You hastily turn to Anri, mouth fixed to tell her no, don’t say anything, you don’t owe them that—but the words die on your lips at the sight of her.

“Do you really want to know the truth? About what I am?”

Horada and his goons laugh at that, continuing to taunt the girl. However, the words fall on deaf ears as your full attention is drawn to her. Something about her was very strange. As disgusting laughter fills the air, you stare into Anri’s eyes, searching for some semblance of understanding. For a moment, even through the flash of the streetlights, you swear that the white glint of her glasses goes red. Out of the corner of your eye, something glimmers silver from beneath her hand. You murmur her name, hoping for some sort of response, but she doesn’t seem to hear even you.

“Well, we did a little something special to those guys you turned against us. We beat the shit out of ‘em!”

In a pinch of a second, it all disappears. Anri gasps and finally turns to look at Horada. The change in position removes the glint from her glasses, revealing her wide, brown eyes. Even then, you couldn’t shake the vision of the red mingling with the brown, quick and fleeting like the eye of a stove. What was Horada talking about to horrify her so? How exactly had she turned anyone against them? As you finally address the gang again, you realize with panic that they’ve effectively closed the two of you in. Anri seems to have come to her senses now, staring fearfully at the guys surrounding the two of you.

“That being said, it just wouldn’t be fair for you to walk away without a scratch,” Horada drawls. He's closed the distance, probably bolstered by the presence of his goons. He’s still staring at Anri, but when you follow his line of sight, you’re disgusted to see that his eyes were trained on her breasts. A trail of blood trickles from his nose. Grimacing in disgust, you press a hand to his chest, shoving him as far away from you as he can. He grunts, stumbling backward and falling flat on his butt after losing his footing. “Get away from my friend, you creep—I won’t let you put a hand on her!” you snarl, voice riddled with an unexpected amount of venom.

Horada sits there for a moment, the wind having been effectively knocked out of him. After regaining his senses, he growls, face going red with rage. “You bitch! You’ll regret that!” He pulls himself back onto his feet, and you notice that he’s struggling a little bit. None of the other men move, only staring at their leader. Upon noticing their eyes on him, he sputters in embarrassment. “Why the hell are you just standing there!? Get them!”

You and Anri can only stand where you are, cornered on all sides by yellow-clad punks. They eye you with malicious intent, brandishing their weapons. Your resolve to save face begins to break, replaced by a growing panic as you watch them slowly advance. For a moment, you can only focus on the vigorous ringing in your ears, drowning out the nasty laughter and snide remarks. However, as you listen closer, you notice a ringing outside of the noises in your head. Just as your eyes begin to reach beyond the crowd, searching for a source to the noise, a familiar voice joins the fray. More specifically, a familiar yelling voice.

“Shut the hell up. Stop freakin’ beeping at me, I can’t read all this crap! School girls, bunny suits—the hell am I supposed to do about it!?”

The crowd surrounding separates like the gates of heaven, revealing the holiest angel—an angel that was currently swearing at his own phone. The thugs stared at him in shock, while you could only grin foolishly at the man. He stops abruptly, head slowly turning to see the gang members standing not too far from him. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as his eyes shift from the Yellow Scarves, to Horada, to Anri, and to you. From the fire of rage that instantly ignited in his eyes, it looked like you and Anri were off the hook.

He approaches the ring leader, him and all of his goons being too terrified to move a muscle. You seize the opportunity, backing out of the trapped position in the middle of the cluster and guiding Anri to follow you. Before you can even turn back to look at Shizuo, Horada is already flying, rising higher and higher into the air before finally falling back down again. Over the sound of his screaming, you hear other voices joining him, most likely facing the same fate.

The area clears in mere moments as the rest of the thugs scuttle away, leaving you with Shizuo and Anri. He finally turns back to the two of you, not a bit unsettled by the encounter. You could almost laugh, but you’re a bit to exhausted, settling with smiling at him instead. “Th...thank you for saving us...again…” Anri says, bowing to the man. This wasn’t the first time he had come to your aid, was it? Looks like you owe this guy a lot. Shizuo only stares at the girl indifferently, long enough for you to get a little concerned.

“...Who are you again…?” You gasp dramatically at the question, swatting at Shizuo in offense on Anri’s behalf.

“Shizuo, just because you saved her doesn’t mean you can be rude!!” He’s expectedly unfazed. If you didn’t know any better, you could swear that there was amusement swimming in his eyes. “This is Anri, my friend . You saved her from a crazed news reporter with a knife.”

“Right, sorry.” He nods simply and you already know that he’s going to forget again. You feel a sudden presence beside you and yelp. In the darkness, you hadn’t noticed Celty approaching you. You’re the only one taken off-guard, as Shizuo only addresses the woman, declaring that he was turning his phone off. She stood there silently for a moment, typing nothing. Finally, shadows waft past you, surrounding Anri’s head. The shadows cleared, revealing the girl’s head encased in a helmet, similar to the one she had put on you before.

“I’ll drive her home, I’m sure she’s been through a lot. Thanks for looking out for her.”

She shows the message to you and Shizuo. You quickly grab Anri’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. She finally looks up at you for the first time since the Yellow Scarves showed up. You can’t tell if she’s smiling back at you or not. Through the sleek, dark helmet, you could only see her eyes. You found yourself peering deeply into them, hoping that the reddish tints in her pupils were just your imagination.

Her hand slips out of yours as she walks away with Celty, most likely to mount her bike. You watch their disappearing forms until they’re clearly out of sight. “That why you ran off like that?” Shizuo speaks up from behind you. He seemed so tranquil now, even after the rampage he had just gone on. Although, he didn’t meet your gaze, eyes fixed on something else away from you. Your eyes scan his face and beneath the tranquility of his features, you see insecurity. Had he been hurt when you left so quickly?

Pushing down the rising feeling of guilt in your chest, you muster a mischievous smile. “Well...can’t confirm or deny that the information got to me, somehow,” you tease, winking. He huffs, mouth twitching into a lax smile.

After you and Anri had been cornered by the Yellow Scarves, someone spotted you and messaged the Dollars forum. The celebration incited by your previous message was cut short, as now everyone was on a mission to save a big-breasted school girl with glasses and a flamboyantly dressed foreign woman. You couldn't tell what was funnier, the way that they described you or how the numerous texts from Erika indicated that the description was pretty accurate. The first chance you got, you made a point to text her that you were okay.

Shizuo, being the gentleman that he was, decides to walk you home. Mere minutes into your walk, the moisture in the air overflows and your nose is met with small droplets of water. The two of you were umbrella-less, but neither of you seemed to mind. You pass a cement walking structure and something catches your attention from the corner of your eye. A figure stands at the very center of it, standing completely still. As the rainfall is growing heavier, it’s hard to make out who it is. You crane your neck as you and Shizuo begin to pass the person. From a different angle, you finally catch who the person is.

Mikado always seemed to shrink when you stood face to face with him--as if he was constantly trying to eschew all sorts of attention from himself. However, in this moment, when he stood so high above you, staring down at you, he looked so unbelievably powerful . You could make out nothing but his form, and the downward tip of his head towards you--his facial expression remained a mystery. Not wanting to make Shizuo stop, you quickly smile in greeting, waving at the boy before you finally have to look forward again.

You wondered what he was doing out so late, and if he had caught wind of the commotion surrounding his close friend. An ordinary boy like Mikado, sincere, but admittedly very average… could he be a part of the Dollars? You chuckle to yourself and shake your head, continuing to carry the conversation between you and Shizuo.

You don’t see why not.

...

The feeling of the quilted comforter against your face is very welcome. Immediately falling face-first onto the bed, it takes everything in you not to fall asleep then and there, fully-clothed. Sighing, you extract yourself from the blankets and sit up, kicking off your shoes and going to change into some pajamas. After a very hasty change, you plop back onto your safe haven. However, you yelp as you realize you’ve landed on something. You pull the offending object out from under you. The manila folder rests in your hand, now slightly crumpled. In your sluggish state, your inhibitions are slow to hinder your impulses.

You remove the paper clip holding it closed and open it for the first time. It seemed so easy in this moment, as if you hadn’t been scared to even touch the thing for the past few days. It's much more underwhelming an experience than you had anticipated. The first few pages are all words, and you immediately notice the dark lines where certain sentences have been crossed out. It’s not so obstructive that you can’t understand each passage, but it’s fairly obvious that some of the information was being purposely hidden.

January 25th, 2015, at 11:34 PM, Andrew and Halley Clarence came home from an outing to the body of their 17 year old daughter, Leanne Clarence, as well as the bodies of 17 year old Renee Hall and 18 year old Katherine Harker. The estimated time of death for all three victims are believed to be relatively close together, around 8 to 9 PM. Katherine Harker was found in the kitchen with 2 stab wounds, one to her left side and the other, the likely cause of death, to the right side of her neck. The murder weapon was not found, but it is believed to be a kitchen knife that was missing from the crime scene. Renee Hall was found by the pool, at the bottom of the stairs leading to the covered deck. The cause of death is confirmed to be strangulation. The markings on the victim’s neck were matched with the hose attached to the wall closest to the body. Leanne Clarence was found in the pool. Cause of death was confirmed to be drowning. The autopsy also revealed . confirmation regarding the sequence of the victims’ murders, drowned Clarence in the pool stabbed Harker to death in the kitchen strangling Hall next to the pool.

Your heart aches at the morbid descriptions. It was astounding to you how someone could bring such a cruel end to the young girls. You found yourself thankful that some of it was blacked out, assuming the censored portions to be too graphic for just anyone to be exposed to. Most of the pages were less traumatizing, going over court procedures and speculations on possible culprits.

The family’s housekeeper, who came in weekly to maintain the household. An elderly neighbor of the family who had recently been admitted into a psychiatric hospital. A relative of Renee Hall, who had been cut out of the family due to drug use and deviant behavior. However, much of this section of the files was spent speculating about an undiscovered serial killer.

The Baseball Card Killer is believed to be responsible for the deaths of countless women, ranging in the ages of 18 to 27. The nickname ‘Baseball Card’ references the culprit’s tendency to keep a ‘trophy’ from each victim, collecting them like baseball cards. Victim’s have been found missing items such as wedding rings, clothing items, and, most notably, locks of hair. This would explain .

From the looks of it, all clues were pointing to this ‘Baseball Card Killer’. The only thing stopping the case from being closed was his discovery. This killer had been active for years, but they still had yet to even locate him.

There’s a break in the paper work and that’s when you come across the first photo. It’s another sheet of printer paper with nothing but three pictures are printed onto it. Each picture has a girl in it, depicting them from the shoulders up--yearbook photos. They’re all beautiful girls, only a little younger than you.

The first girl--Renee--has a round, freckled face and wide, dark eyes. Even printed in black and white, the light streaks in her short, dark hair are prominent. You wonder what color they were. The second girl--Katherine--is slim-faced, smiling brightly to reveal a set of braces. Her hair is lighter than the other girl’s, but not quite blonde. The third picture resides in the middle of the two, occupying its own row. Leanne’s heart-shaped face is framed by long, flowing hair. It cascaded down her shoulders, long enough that the ends are visible in the frame. Her bangs curl over her eyebrows, barely avoiding covering her eyes. It's extremely light colored, showing up as near white in the grayscale color scheme.

There’s a tremor in the paper, building to such an intensity that you can’t focus on the picture anymore. It takes you a moment to find the source of the shaking to be your own hands, stiff and veined from the tension of gripping the paper. A tear starts to form at the top, ripping lower and lower and lower…

The paper begins to part just above the blonde girl’s head before your grip loosens. The paper, nearly ripped in half, flutters to your feet. Your tired eyes flicker to the clock beside your bed and widen at how much later it’s gotten. A yawn tumbles it’s way out of your mouth.

Without much of a second thought, you lean over and turn out the lamp on your nightstand. Eager to finally get some rest, you turn on your side and quickly wade your way into a much-needed sleep. The manila folder sits on your night stand, still open to one of the case analysis pages.

Forgotten on the floor, the torn sheet of paper flutters under the cool air blowing through the apartment.

#durarara #durarara x reader #drrr x reader #herculean #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima x reader #anri sonohara

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destinyc1020 · 13 days ago

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Destiny did you hear that MBJ was brought up in the Diddy trial? He was one of the men that Cassie tried to date but Diddy would always interfere. It didn't matter that he had 20 other gfs, Cassie was supposed to remain his sex slave. You saw what he did with Kid Cudi's Porsche. Cassie was finally able to find her current husband who was not scared to support her in leaving that hell and giving her a loving place to start a family. A bunch of super-macho a-holes have mocked him for being with a "used-up ho", but he's standing with pride next to Cassie. I wish her the best. She could have simply disappeared after she got that settlement offer from Diddy, but she didn't want him to do the same to other young women like he did with her

😱😱😲

Omg, no I did not hear that!!! I honestly have not even been following the case. 😔 I feel like it will just make me angry and it will be very triggering.

But wow.... I know one thing.... That ugly mofo makes me miss my chance at dating Michael Bae Jordan, and we're getting to fighting! 😡😡

I can't believe it!!! That's so sad! Cassie is gorgeous, and she and Michael would have made a really cute couple too. 😭😩

This almost reminds me of how actress Robin Givens said that she had been in an abusive relationship with Mike Tyson for years, and when she finally escaped it, actor Brad Pitt actually was interested in her and wanted to date her (I think they actually went on a few dates), but Mike threatened him and he got scared off from dating her. 😳 😬

Now obviously, this was YEARS ago back when Brad was like THE Golden Guy in Hollywood, and his reputation was a lot better. 👀

But yea girl, that's just crazy.

I really feel for that poor woman Cassie. 🥺😭 She's going to need YEARS of therapy to get over the sexual, emotional, and mental abuse that man put her through smh. 😢

I feel for her.💔

I'm so thankful that her husband saw the good in her and didn't just view her as damaged goods. 😔

I'm so glad she spoke up and said something.

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papirouge · 10 months ago

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You still can't get over that white man from the bear??!! 🤦🏾‍♀️ Smh my head and you have the gall to tell other black women to "uNLeaRn YoUr BLaCk MaLe wORsHIp" while literally salivating over that ugly ass man! But he's white so it's fine!!! He's different!!!! In fact, I've never seen you express attraction towards bm even once, only yt ones... I see how it is. lmao. White men aren't any better than black men and you'll realize that one day, no matter how much you trash "muh pookie and rayray" that yt man is not going to pick you!!!

me : *makes a post of a TV where I weep about a CHARACTER that was once funny*

your schyzo ass : *makes a tirade about how I "salivate over White" men*..yeah- totally normal reaction here.

...which also shows how TRIGGERED how some of you are at Black women expressing romantic /sexual interest for non Black men 🤭 you guys are so sensitive

And yeah, there's definitely a difference between unlearning male worship (actively defending men and defending men perspective) AND finding (some) men attractive (which is a passive occurence). For the record, I'm a straight women, it's compulsory for me to occasionally find men attractive, regardless of their race. Deal with it.

And I genuinely don't understand why I owe you publicly displaying my attraction towards Black men on my blog. I'm not a pickme so you won't see me frequently post pic set thrist traps of attractive men, but when it happened, I actually remember it was not always white men (yeah bc you guys act like there were only 2 races of men on this planet - just wait til you realize some black women have a preference for men who are neither black or white 🤯)

"white men aren't better than black men" Well, when it comes to killl black women in DV White men are statistically the safer & better bet. Cope.

I also heard the longer lasting mixed marriage in the US were white man and black woman but I need to (re)chek my source on that.

"the yt man isn't gonna pick you" this weird fearmongering is getting so old 🥱 you really think black women genuinely interested in interracial dating struggle to find non black men (to marry)? I've seen my sisters & friends date men outside of their race plentiful of times. One of them is married to a white man and had children with him.

The very few times I get approached it was by non Black men - for some reason people (even black men) assume I'm into White men💁🏾‍♀️ while I ironically NEVER disclosed my dating preference (let alone online) lol

Fun fact : in my country, it's an open secret many rightoid moids date/prefer black women. One infamous rightoid is MARRIED to a Black woman from the same ethnicity as me lol and before that he also dated a black woman from the same ethnicity. Dude openly stated had a type (Black women). So if rightoid white men openly profess their attraction to Black women, you REALLY think it would be impossible for regular men to do be attracted by us as well? If anything, the reputation pf Black women to be extremely race loyal (more than black men who date out MORE than their female counterparts) is what discourage non Black men to shoot their shot with black women. It's fascinating to see you guys act like the act ot rejection solely came from non white men, and that black women weren't themselves entertaining this image of "i date Black men only" that wreck any of their chance to get approached by non Black men. Why? Because you are OBSESSED humbling Black women and that now seeing the tide turning, gaslight us into believing that we have no chances or opportunity with non Black men.

I already see it coming and you'll soon screech about fEtichIzAtiOn but let's be honest : aren't Black men fetichizising Black Women already? Talking about being "thick", their (BBL'd grotesque) butt size, almost like animals.... But when it's Black men talking about preferring let's say Latina or Snow Bunny it's just a "preference" (no fetichism)? BUT GOD FORBID A WHITE MAN PREFERS BLACK WOMEN AND SUDDENLY HE'S A FETISHIST INTO SLAVE PLAY!! puh-lease.. we're tired.

We've all witnessed how your kin got ANGRYat the viral "black wife effect" thing. And let me tell you : it's just the beginning ☺️ black women burned the cape, broke free from race loyalty trap, and now go where they are appreciated. And those non Black men love them so much in return they're willing to level up power 10000000

We love to see it 🧡

#answered #black feminity #black femininity

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gastlives · 2 years ago

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the fuck

oh shit oh shit

wwow

do u have to attack him

why is uber and leet here 😭

oh my gods???

god damn

holy shit

oh fuck theyre here thats pretty damn fast

god damn

yeah i ts best for u to lay low for now

oh so now theyre getting the moel down

oh shit

WHAT

oh god

jesus shit

yeah that makes more sense otherwise itd be very dumb of him

i forgot that dragon kiinda now knows abt skitter being taylor so this could end up bad if um this ONE paramedic gets dragon info i guss

girl ure so desensitized

omg lisa is here

damn while blind?

damn..

thats going to be... kind of awful for kid win to deal with

oh shiiit

wait hold on thats the fuckin guy on piggot interlude at the end

did he get his trigger event later on or did he buy his power…

help

omg do a spiderman

cute

smh

gender: ambiguous, i get it, diversity win

#liveblog #worm parahumans #worm parahumans lb #worm liveblog #worm arc 16

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323398149 · 1 year ago

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It's been 10 years

I'm low-key not even a swiftie anymore (kinda, sorta)

I'm living my dream career (technically) (sorta)

And it's not once an hour, it's not once a day, it's not once a week, a month, or a quarter. It's more like once a year that I miss him. It's not even miss, it's more like think about and contemplate the past and relate it to my present.

I don't even know him. I just know the concept, the memory.

And I know that even the memory was terrible and gross and toxic.

But let me explain what happened recently that triggered these annoying, lame, over-done thoughts:

I got new skincare. I've been eating and sleeping well. I've been praying/meditating. I've been maintaining a positive outlook and been happy and hopeful recently. I finally started wearing nice makeup and I finally have the most fire wardrobe rn that I coulda only dreamed of in the past.

And so I've been getting a bunch of compliments recently of ppl telling me I'm glowing. Specifically three ppl from different parts of my life all used the same word.

But the thing is that none of those compliments feel like they hold any weight.

I already pulled the hottest guy in our grade. He was in love with me. ME! AND keep in mind that that was the ugly, loser, insecure, shitty, judgemental, mean (honestly SO mean), stupid, fifteen year old version of me. Not this sorta stable, medicated, whole, adult version.

Remember that gorgeous older white girl that asked him out? Or all those gorgeous tall academic girls crowding around me in grade 12 asking me questions about him because they couldn't understand how this RUSH loser could have been worth his time? and they wanted to know everything they could find out about him from me before they made their moves. Or when tiffany didn't talk to me for a year and then later apologized because she felt bad for letting a man pit her against me. And Jessica obviously (that one was just sad). ALSO LETS REMEMBER all of this was grade 11+12 so I didn't even have any communications with him at this point but I was still being interrogated about him.

Anyways my point is lmaooooo I think when my heart broke at 16 idk but maybe a part of it really did die. It's hard to describe it but I feel like a part of me is dead inside. Ever since then, anytime I've gotten attention I haven't felt special or grateful. I almost resent it. I feel annoyed that they're telling me something I already heard in a way more special way. Like they're parroting and copying it but they'll never be able to meet the magic or rush I used to feel when he said it.

There isn't a magic to it anymore. Now love feels very clinical. I guess I stopped believing in love? I guess at too young an age I became bitter and now just chalk it up to hormones and chemical imbalances.

And recently I heard someone talking about falling in love and I literally thought "agh that sounds terrible why would anybody want to FALL in love??! sounds like it would hurt smh". I just want to gently like drift into a soft stable comfortable kindness with someone. That's all.

Anyways idk if it's the new taylor swift album coming out (which pls be proud of me I haven't heard all the way through yet and I'm hoping to never hear it and stay halal) but yeah idk if I'll ever love anybody like I did that one time at fifteen which didn't even lead to anything and had zero payoff so it feels so wasteful and annoying that it happened.

But then I think about how like what if I end up dying alone and that ends up being the only thing I ever had worth remembering so maybe it's not so bad and maybe even tho it didn't pay off in a bigger way, maybe it was worth something.

Anyways but loooooooool like LMAO don't get me wrong like I know I know let's definitely not forget that it was literally NOTHING. Absolutely nothing happened but two teenagers feeling seen by eachother.

Tbh one of us should cash out on it and write a teen novel.

Wait after typing that out I just had a terrible realization. Lmaooooo jeez Louise this is why I'm supposed to journal so I can make sense of my toxic period thoughts.

With j I felt like "well duh you should obviously be saying that to me because you don't even compare to him. You saying that does not validate me in any way. I'm out of your league." BUT GUYS IT'S NOT MAGIC HELPPPP

I think I'm just finally grown up and confident and whole??? I don't feel "magic" from external validation. I know I'm a baddie helpppppppppp which I didn't know back then. Which is why I'd probs get hella endorphin release when he'd write those damn poems because I wanted someone ELSE to tell me good things about me. But now I know them in my own brain. Woah. Big thoughts. So maybe we're grateful to him for giving me that back when I really needed the attention. And now I'm ok with dying alone loooooooool and I don't need anybody to make me feel good. How interesting.

Well that was a weirdly wholesome exercise/rant. Glad we did this lmao @ my multiple personalities. Catch y'all on the flip side.

youtube

#personal #ss24 #Youtube

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marvinswriting · 5 years ago

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Jason

hey, you guys remember jason from the movie? the one gretchen hooked up with but he didn't actually care about her? yeah :) ALSO REGINA POV?!?!? tw: bullying, suffocation, manipulation, shane omen mention g/t mean girls

I wasn't controlling.

Well- let me rephrase that.

There were rules for being plastic. I made sure Karen and Gretchen followed those rules. That wasn't controlling. Just, guidelines. They're rules in place to help the other plastics. Dress codes, what clubs you can and can't join, you can't buy a dress without the others approval, don't date your friend's exes-

but totally new boys were fair game.

So before you ask, no, that's not why I'm against Gretchen dating Jason.

On surface level, Jason seemed like a nice guy.

But he constantly blew off Gretchen, he flirted with other girls, and overall was totally using her.

And that's not even getting into how he treats tinies.

That's right.

Jason is a two-faced fucking asshole.

And none of the giants can see it.

I mean- I'm sure they're suspicious. I know Damian notices when Janis stiffens the second Jason walks in the room. And, Cady has probably picked up on the way Aaron gets quiet. If Gretchen has caught on to anything, she totally ignores it. I mean- Janis, Aaron, and I tried telling our friends in the begging. Gretchen didn't want to hear it. She's got a huge crush on the guy and totally ignores all red flags.

So we gave up getting through to her.

Besides, who would believe us? Jason was so sweet whenever our giants were around.

I guess when we collectively decided we couldn't get through to Gretchen- all the other giants were a lost cause too. And that was months ago. We're in too deep now.

"Allow me to take it back to the drawing board and suggest the best idea we've had since day one," Janis huffed. We were in an empty hallway after school for 'english help'. We've been staying after a lot more recently.

It's been getting worse.

Jason isn't trying to be sneaky anymore. He'll pick up Aaron without asking, conveniently drop his textbook on the cafeteria table right next to Janis, wrap his arm around Gretchen when I'm on her shoulder.

Yet nobody has caught on.

Janis continued. "Why don't we just tell our giants what he's doing?"

"Because Gretchen won't listen to me."

"Good thing there's three other friends." Janis points out.

I rolled my eyes, waving my hand dismissively. Of course, Janis didn't understand how it felt not to have her giant listen to her. Her and Damian practically share a mind, if anything it's a shock he hasn't started asking questions. "Fine, if you know what's best for everyone, go talk to Damian. I'm sure you two will solve everything with your buddy buddy perfect communication skills. Janis has a giant who actually listens to her! Wow! You don't have to rub it in." I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back against the wall.

Aaron blinks, his gaze bouncing between both of us nervously.

"I wasn't-" Janis pauses, letting her hands fold in her lap. "I wasn't rubbing anything in. Listen- Regina, I'm sorry Gretchen won't listen. Truly. I'm being genuine right now. But don't make me feel guilty for trying to come up with a solution to something affecting all three of us."

"Right," I mumble, guilt rising in my stomach. "Sorry. I just-"

My voice trails off but neither Janis nor Aaron push for me to continue talking. Gretchen was somebody I could always trust to be there and listen to me. Now she didn’t. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to make her listen. We're silent for a while while I regroup my emotions, not wanting to snap for no reason again.

"I have tried talking to Gretchen recently."

"And how did it go?" Aaron prompted.

"Well, it fucking went." I shrug. "Gretchen isn't used to having boys like her. I love her but crushes directed to her don't happen often. So of course she accused me of being jealous a boy finally liked her and not me."

"Maybe it had to do with how you worded it?" Janis suggests.

"Well, how else do I word 'hey maybe you should break up with the boy you're not even officially dating yet because he's toxic, a cheater, not actually in love with you, also harassing your tiny friends'?"

"Literally any way but that." Janis mumbled.

I shrug again, pulling out my phone. "Well, I did my best. You know emotions aren't my thing." I want to cry a little just thinking about the talk last week. But I don't. Crying won't fix anything.

"Regina, why can't you be happy that a boy likes me for once?! I know you're used to all the boys falling head over heels for you, but this is the first time a cute boy has put in the effort to care and call back and-"

"But he doesn't, Gretchen! He doesn't call back. He. Doesn't. Care! I'm doing this for you because nobody else is gonna tell you. Jason is bad news. He doesn't care about you, or Karen, or Cady, or Damian, and he really doesn't give a shit about Janis, Aaron, or I!"

"Just let me be happy, Regina." Gretchen says dismissively, ignoring everything I just said.

There's a hand on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. Aaron looks at me worriedly but retreats his arm. "Gina, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just-" I wipe away a strand of hair that's been matted to my face by tears. Wait-

-tears?

I use my sleeve to dry my face quickly. I didn't even realize I started crying. I was just so tired. I was supposed to feel safe around my friends. Even when the rest of the school sees me as an emotionless bitch I should be able to turn to my friends and be okay. I couldn't do what when my current number one source of fear has intruded into our group.

"So," Janis says awkwardly. "We don't tell our giants directly. How do we get them to see the side of Jason we're seeing?"

"We catch him in the act." Aaron suggests.

Janis shakes her head with a sigh. "I am tired and quite frankly sick. I don't want our plan 'a' to be; lets put ourselves in danger in hopes that our friends stop by to witness. Let's make that plan 'y' or 'z'."

"Well, we already have plans 'b' through 'z'. We need and 'a', I'm just spouting ideas." Aaron points out.

Janis sighs, shaking her head. "I should have stuck with Damian. I need a nap and maybe an Advil."

I chuckled dryly at the girl sitting across from me. "Always have your priorities sorted, huh Janis?"

"If my priorities include being sick and not wanting to deal with Jason ever again then yeah."

"It's getting harder and harder 'not to deal with Jason ever again'," Aaron pointed out. "Remember lunch last week?"

"Don't remind me." Janis huffed.

Last week Jason decided to be a lot more careless with how he treated us around our giant friends.

I cringe just thinking of the memory.

"All I'm saying is the tiny soccer team is so underfunded. We're even better than the giant soccer team but you wouldn't know it because we've set up to fail."

I raise my eyebrow as Aaron sits next to me, passionately explaining how he swears the tiny soccer team is not a total failure.

I sat in front of Gretchen and across from Janis, who was flopped against Damian's forearm clearly struggling to stay awake.

I grin as she yawns.

"Am I boring you, Janis?" Aaron teases.

"A little," Janis says with full honesty.

Before Aaron can remark, a stack of textbooks is dropped in between him and I, narrowly missing me as I push myself backward.

Jason.

Janis's eyes widen and I instantly rush around the textbook to make sure Aaron is okay. He is, just looks equally as shaken up as I do.

Jason sits in the seat between Damian and Gretchen without bothering to great the tinies he just nearly crushed. It's where Cady normally sits, but she isn't here today.

"Jason!" Gretchen grins, pecking him on the cheek like I didn't just almost die.

I throw and exasperated look to Janis who laughs at my expense.

She wasn't the one almost fucking crushed.

Janis pushes off Damian's arm, making her way over to Aaron and I.

Or tries to.

She doesn't make it very far before shes intercepted by a hand scooping her up.

Janis makes a noise of surprise as Jason lifts her off the table without asking.

I push myself closer to Gretchen as Janis instantly tries to get back down to the table. Jason's thumb knocks her down and I cringe because- that looked like it hurt.

Damian eyes Jason wearily but doesn't vocally say anything. But neither does Janis so why would anyone worry? It's just Jason. Sweet Jason. The boy who's probably gonna ask Gretchen to spring fling. Innocent Jason.

Janis sits up again, clearly uncomfortable, as Damian speaks. "Maybe I should hold Janis?"

"No," Jason says simply before Janis can even open her mouth. "She's fine."

"Janis," Damian ignores the boy next to him. "Do you want Jason holding you?"

Janis is silent for a while, and I don't blame her.

She's in Jason's hands.

One wrong more and shes getting hurt-

badly.

"I- I uh, kinda want to be with Damian right now? If that's okay?" Janis speaks slowly, picking her words wisely.

"That's okay!" Jason reassures her sweetly, passing the girl to her giant. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Aaron and Janis make an identical face of discussed at the sickly sweet tone and I can only assume my face is similar.

"It's okay." Janis says softly, visibly more relaxed in Damain's hands.

Jason forces a frown. "Well- I'll go give you space. Gretchen, I'll see you next period."

He gets up, walking away but I don't feel very bad for him. If anything, I feel safer. And if the collective breath of relief from Janis and Aaron was an indicator- they felt the same.

As soon as Jason was out of earshot, Gretchen turned to Janis. "Jason was just trying to be nice, Janis. You need to be willing to welcome him into our friend group."

Janis' jaw slacked. The 'are you kidding me' went unsaid. Instead, Janis forced out an "Of course, it's my fault."

"I'm serious, Janis. Be nice."

"I'm serious too." Janis shot back.

Aaron and I shared a look of helplessness. We couldn't just tell them. Our giants would never believe us.

To them, Jason could do no wrong.

"The only solution is to never go to lunch again." Janis speaks up, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Mhmm, sure. That's a reasonable solution." Aaron teases.

"You got something better, soccer boy?" Janis raises her eyebrow.

Aaron shakes his head. "We've reached a dead end. Gina? You got any ideas?"

I shake my head with defeat. "Unfortunately, no. All I know is Jason hates us and his goal is to make our friends hate us too through lying and manipulation."

"Go girl, give us nothing." Janis rolls her eyes. "We already knew that Regina."

"Okay, I get your sick and cranky, Janis, but I don't need you-"

"Okay!" Aaron interrupts me. "The three of us are stressed! We're worried. We're scared. But we're also all on the same page. Let's not go at each other's throats right now. We're the only ones who understand each other's struggles. Please stop fighting."

Janis and I both mumble a weak sorry.

Aaron was right. We were all scared. Can you blame us? Jason was doing everything in his power to isolate us from our friends. For no other reason other then we're tinies and see-through his act. Why he wants Gretchen so bad is beyond me. But hell am I gonna let his toxic ass have her.

"Do you guys remember that scarf Gretchen wore last week?" I ask.

Janis tilts her head. "Yeah?"

"I don't pay enough attention." Aaron shrugs.

I grin. "Well, it was a baggy infinity scarf to refresh your memory. There was enough fabric that I could sit on Gretchen's shoulder next to her neck and not be seen. So I obviously skipped my boring history lecture. But also- Gretchen talked to Jason. He didn't know I was there."

"You're like a spy!" Janis grinned, invested in the story. "What happened?!"

"Hey, Gretchen!" Jason smiles, slipping his hand into Gretchen's as they walked down the hall.

I sunk lower into the pool of fabric, hopping Grethen didn't point out I was here.

"Hey, Jason!"

I let out a breath of relief when she doesn't.

"I have to ask you something," Jason asked.

My ears perk up as I wait for him to continue.

"Is that Janis girl always so- unfriendly? I get the feeling she doesn't like me. I just don't know why. Like Regina clearly doesn't like me very much but she might just be jealous you've got a boy and she doesn't-"

So that's where the seed of jealously in Gretchen's head was planted from. It takes all of me not the stand-up and call Jason out on his bullshit.

He continues.

"But I don't understand why Janis or Aaron wouldn't like me. Aaron just gets quiet and hey- maybe he's shy. But Janis lashes out every time I try and talk to her."

"Janis can be like that sometimes." Gretchen says, nodding in agreement.

Jason could tell her the earth is fucking flat and this bitch would nod in agreement.

I wouldn't be surprised if Gretchen is even really listening to what Jason is saying.

All she's thinking is 'hot boy's lips are moving'.

Ugh.

"At least he's caught onto the fact that I don't fucking like him." Janis crossed her arms.

"Janis, he's painting you to be the bad guy. He's trying to turn Gretchen against you, what don't you understand about that?" Aaron asked.

"Oh no, I understood. I just don't care. I hate Jason and I'm glad he's caught on."

"He hates you more." I point out.

"Impossible." Janis shook her head.

We go back and forth about who hates who more before settling on the fact that our collective hate for him outweighs anything he feels for us.

"Let's go meet our giants, it's getting late." Aaron said standing up. He holds out his hand, helping Janis up first, then me.

Janis groans holding her head. "Still feel sick as fuck and standing up so fast did not help."

"Woe is you." I roll my eyes. "Let's go."

We walk through the school, making our way to the tiny pick up zone. We're halfway there as Aarons phone dings.

Its a text from Cady.

Aaron reads allowed: "Gretchen went home early so Karen is driving Regina home. Damian and Karen are still in after school help and I might be a bit late to pick you three up. Wait there for me, I swear I didn't forget about you guys."

I laugh. "Cady could never forget about us."

"I mean-" Janis starts. "There was the one ti-"

"Shut up." I cut her off. "Cady would never forget about her tiny friends."

We make it to the tiny pick up zone and sit against a wall to wait. It's no surprise that the hallway is empty. It's late after school on a Monday. Who would willingly still be in school?

There's footsteps down the hall and we all look up, expecting Cady.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Janis groans.

"Ever the pleasant one, Sarkisian." Jason jeers.

"I'm tired, and sick, and will literally cry if you even touch me. I will bawl. And maybe bite. Don't come the fuck near me." Janis threatens, holding up a sharpened pencil like its a knife.

Jason doesn't seem intimidated by this action. "Whatcha gonna do? Nibble my finger?"

"Fuck off!" Janis whines, throwing her head back. "Literally any day but today."

"Listen whiney and friends. I just hear to pick you up for your friends. So stop being such a bitch Janis."

The friends that told us to 'wait here for Cady'?

Riiight.

I share a knowing look with Aaron while Janis gets up, making her way back into the tiny halls.

"Not fucking dealing with this. Good day asshole."

"Nope." Jason reaches forward, picking Janis off the platform. "You're coming with me bitch."

"This is kidnapping," Janis says flatly. She doesn't fight Jason or thrash. She looks tired, like death is appealing at this point. "I'm being abducted."

Jason's fingers tighten around her. "Thought you were the fisty one? Huh? Shane said you put up a pretty good fight. Where's the fight, Sarkisian?"

"You talked to Shane?" I gawk. I don't know why I'm surprised. They definitely seem like best friends.

"Can you put me the fuck down?" Janis huffs. "Kinda hard to breath."

"Oh, is it?" Jason said with feigned worry. "Shame."

Janis cried out as the hand around her tightened, and Jason grinned at the first real signs of fear Janis has shown yet.

"Put me down- asshole!" Janis wheezed.

"Let go of her!" Aaron yelled.

It was moments like these when you really realize how helpless you were as a tiny.

All I could do was sit and watch as Aaron yelled and Janis squirmed. All I could do was pray Cady or really anybody would walk past and see what's happening.

Yeah, we've been threatened with death before.

Every tiny in Northshore has at least once.

And yeah, we've been pushed around before.

But I've never legitimately feared for my life of a friend's life.

I know maybe that's just a perk of being Regina Geroge, but this was new territory. And scary as fuck territory at that.

Jason seems pretty fucking pleased with himself and it makes my stomach twist. It's never gone this far before.

Somebody is going to get really hurt.

And I can't do anything.

I can almost feel my heart stop as Janis goes limp. I can't see her face.

But she's not fucking moving.

"Oh whoops." Jason shugs. "You tinies really are weak."

Aaron looks like if he could he'd fucking kill Jason.

Wouldn't we all.

"Put her down!" I yell, snapping out of my helpless funk.

Jason loosens his grip on Janis but she doesn't move. My breath feels caught in my throat.

My eyes were trained on Janis and I didn't see Jasons another hand till his finger flicked into my side, sending me falling backward.

I felt like I was living through one of those dramatic fight scenes in the movies.

Expect isn't it the villains who are supposed to be defeated?

I'm curled into myself on the floor, Janis is knocked out in the literal hands of the enemy and Aaron looks ready to kill or cry, whichever is possible first.

Never thought I'd die in high school.

"Hey, Jason, is that you?" A voice calls from down the hall.

"Cady!" Aaron runs to the egde of the platform.

Jasons condescending nature and snarl disappear. "Hello, Heron!"

"Is Janis asleep?" Cady asks as her eyes fall to Jason's hand. "She only ever falls asleep with Damian, either shes exhausted or really trust you."

The bitter laugh is out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Cady looks at me and tilts her head. "Regina, why do you look like you've been crying on the floor?" She pauses, her eyes trailing back between the four of us. I can almost see the doubt set in her mind. Yes! "What's really going on here?" She asks. "And uh, I'm gonna take Janis-"

Jason shakes his head. "She's fine, it won't be necessary."

"No, I wasn't offering." Cady's voice is an unfamiliar cold. "I'll take Janis."

I stand up and make my way closer to Aaron as Cady takes Janis away from Jason. "Now, what the fuck is going on.

"Literally nothing, we're just talking and-"

"No! He's a fucking asshole and he-"

"Regina, what did I ever do to you?!"

"Are you kidding me?!"

Cady looks between us nervously. "Uh, Aaron? Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Gladly."

Cady steps over, picking both Aaron and I up. My mouth is still open from shock.

What did I ever do to you?!

Fucking bitch, want me to list it?

"So uh," Aaron starts nervously. Cady cups her hands so I'm next to Janis who looks like she's beginning to stir but uh- I've never been suffocated before, maybe she's just sleeping at this point.

But she's breathing. It's reassuring enough for me.

"It started a couple months ago." Aaron continues. "Jason actually isnt very nice? To the tinies at least." He laughs nervously, leaning closer into Cady's hand and away from Jason, who isn't bothering to keep the nice facade up anymore. "He's actually like- Shane Omen but worse?"

"Worse?" Cady's jaw drops slightly in disbelief.

"I mean- he held Janis so tight that she passed out so I'd fucking say so." I snark.

Aaron nods. "Yeah, heh- like, I dunno. Just- not nice? He uh, flicked Regina, which is why she was laying down when you walked over. And like its not the first time he's done this? Especially when we're alone."

There's an unreadable look on Cady's face as she looks up to Jason.

It almost scares me.

"I'm gonna walk away. Just-" Cady gives a low laugh. "Jesus, I almost feel sorry for you, Jason. You deserve everything coming to you. Starting with Gretchen and Damian when they find out."

Despite everything, I can't help but smile at the way Jason's face falls with realization.

It's not a big secret that Gretchen loves an excuse to slap someone.

And this is hell of an excuse.

I look at Janis who is still laying next to me, breathing shallowly.

We might have to bail Damian out of fucking jail.

Cady turns on her heels without saying another word to Jason and walks down the halls. Once he is out of earshot she looks down at us. "How long?!"

Aaron shrugs. "Since Gretchen first met Jason."

"That's like three months guys!" Cady looks genuinely heartbroken. "I can't believe we didn't notice."

Janis stirs next to me, weakly propping herself up. "Huh?"

There are tears in Cady's eyes as she stops walking. "You guy have been enduring this for three months?"

"No," I say. "Well- yes but not really. It was a build-up. He didn't just start attacking us to the point of death one random day. It started with little things. Like pushing us around and knocking us over."

"That shouldn't happen anyway!" Cady says sadly.

"But it did," Janis mumbled. She seems to have caught onto whats going on. "My chest hurts."

"I'm so sorry you guys," Cady whispers sadly. "I- how did we not notice?"

"Not notice what?"

I turn around to see Karen and Damian walking over. For a second my eyes trail behind them in search of Gretchen but- she went home. Of course.

"Cady, are you crying?" Damian asks, instantly worried. "Is everything okay? Where's Janis?"

"Right here, dude." Janis mumbles. She's looking down at her lap, her arms wrapped loosely around herself. She's still wheezing slightly and tears threaten to spill over her eyes. I don't blame her. That was almost death.

Janis almost died.

My breath hitches at the realization.

As a tiny, you almost die a lot. But- it's accidental. It's falling or almost being crushed. Never malicious actions of bigger peers.

Cady offers her hands out and I step backward, letting Damian gently scoop up Janis.

"What happened?" Karen asks, peering over Damian's shoulder at Janis.

I look back to Cady trying to figure out if she's gonna talk or if Aaron and I have to explain. She's staring at Karen with a crestfallen gaze, tear tracks down her face. "Guys-" She starts.

I know this is hard for her because she's taking it personally and blaming herself, but we really don't need the fanfare.

Not that I'm gonna step up and tell the story.

Karen steps towards picking up me and Aaron. Cady doesn't fight it, she just lets her hands fall to her side. "Y'know, Jason?"

"Yeah of course. Smile emoji." Karen says from above me.

I look over to Janis, who has her arm around Damain's finger. She's doing pretty well for passing out. God knows I'd be sobbing if that were me. Hell, the ache in my side is enough to make me want to cry right now.

"Not smiley face emoji, Karen," Cady explains softly. "I don't know the full thing, you're gonna have to ask the tinies but-"

Cady explains what she walked over to see and the minimal information she got out of us earlier. She left out a lot, but she didn't know a lot to be fair. The look of utter horror on our friend's faces almost made me feel bad. We barely scraped the top layer.

Damian is looking down at the girl in his hands who at some point in the bad retelling started crying again. Karen had held Aaron and I even closer and Cady looked ready to sit down and cry. Me too, Cady.

"Three months?" Damian whispers weakly. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why would you believe us? Jason's fucking great." Janis said bitterly, still clinging to his finger.

"Of course we would believe you, Jan."

"Gretchen didn't." I say softly.

I didn't really think about what I was saying. I was just mumbling to myself. But Karen heard.

"You told her?"

I shrug. "Tried to. She didn't listen."

"Well, she's gonna listen when we tell her tomorrow," Cady says. "I can't believe you didn't tell us."

I shrug dismissively, not wanting to talk about it. "It's not a big deal."

I didn't mean it. Of course, it's a big deal. But I said it wasn't anyway.

"You're telling me Janis almost died today and it's not the first time you guys have been through something like that, but don't worry it's not a big deal?!"

I pause, looking at the three giants. This was Aaron, Janis and I's normal. It's what we went through every day. Yeah, it's shitty but we're used to it. I forget sometimes the giants don't understand the fact not getting shoved around is normal for us. Being threatened and made fun of for our size is just part of an average day.

"Can we continue this with Gretchen at lunch tomorrow? I don't want this conversation twice. I feel even crappier than I already did before and I just want to sleep." Janis speaks up from where Damian held her protectively close.

"You all better tell us everything tomorrow." Cady says.

"Cady are you taking Aaron or should I get these two home?" Karen asks.

"This was a really funny joke guys." Gretchen says from above me. Despite her words, her voice is void of all amusement.

"Yes, because we're the type to make jokes about our tiny friends almost dying." Damian deadpans. Janis is sitting on the table in front of him looking like she'd rather talk about anything other than this.

I don't blame her.

But this could finally be my chance to get Gretchen to listen and believe me.

"Gretchen." I turn around to look up at her, but I'm on the table I need to crane my neck. "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but you have to believe us. Cady witnessed it with her own eyes if you don't believe me. Janis sure as hell can vouch since she nearly fucking died yesterday."

Gretchen doesn't respond for a long time. I feel like I can see the seed of doubt settle in on the situation. She reaches forward, scooping me up and bringing me to her shoulder.

"I- I'm not sure what to believe," She admits. "but I'll listen. I'm sorry I didn't do that before."

That one sentence felt like so much weight being lifted. Jason had Gretchen around her finger. His word was law and everyone else could fuck themself.

But not anymore.

I open my mouth to speak but get cut off by a familiar and unwelcoming voice.

"Hello everyone!"

Cady's eyes widen in disbelief. "You aren't actually stupid enough to think about sitting with us today, right Jason?"

"Aw, why not?" He asks, sitting next to Gretchen and slinging his arm over her shoulder.

I gasp as I'm knocked forward, gripping onto Gretchen's shirt underneath me as I try to stay on.

Gretchen bats Jason's arm away and scoops me up. "Jason we were talking about something private maybe it's better you join us again later."

Jason's eyes narrowed, as he looked across the table. I sunk lower in Gretchen's hand as his eyes landed on me but he moved on without trying anything. I mean- obviously, Gretchen was right here but still.

Cady's hand was resting wearily by Aaron if Jason tried something and Janis had been transported to Damian's pocket when I wasn't looking. How could Gretchen not pick up on how stressed we all are?

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, turning to Gretchen.

"It's nothing for you to worry about. I just-"

"Did I do something wrong?" Jason's face fell and I almost felt bad for him. Almost. He should pursue an acting career.

Gretchen looked at loss for what to say for a second before speaking up. "Where were you yesterday after school?"

Jason scoffed. "Whatever Cady said was a lie, Gretch."

"I-" Gretchen froze. "I didn't mention Cady."

Jason's eyes widened as he began to backtrack but- it was too late.

"Jason I need you to leave, please." Gretchen's hand was shaking as she placed me gently on the table. "There are some things I need to rethink."

"You really believe those tinies?" Jason's face morphed into utter disgust.

The mask was off, the act was over. Karen reached over, tugging me away from Gretchen and Jason and closer to her.

"I should have believed them a while ago, apparently." Gretchen snapped.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Please. They're just tinies. What makes them so trustworthy? Actually- what makes them worthy?"

Karen lets out a legitimate gasp from above me. Gretchen looks to me with an expression I can't read. My breath feels caught in my throat. I can't shake the feeling that this may be where I lose my best friend.

But she looks back at Jason. "I can't believe you really just asked that. Did you think that would help your point? What made you think- oh this will totally get Gretchen on my side? What is wrong with you?"

Jason looks dumbfounded at Gretchen's outburst. "Gretchen-"

I knew it was coming, so it was no surprise as Gretchen raises her arm, and a loud smack echos through the cafeteria over all the oblivious conversations. Jason gasps, his hand shooting up to his cheek. "You fucking bitch-"

"You have treated my friends awfully for too long. Go fuck off and find somewhere else to sit for lunch." Gretchen says simply, turning away from Jason.

Jason doesn't say anything as he looks across the table one last time. Aaron was still on the table but Cady had her hand cupped around him defensively, Damian's hand rested over his chest pocket and Janis gripped onto his finger. Karen had pulled against her arm where I sat pushed away as far away from Jason as possible. It was pretty clear he wasn't wanted here.

"Whatever." He bitterly admits defeat, pushing away from the table and walking away. Gretchen watched him leave before turning to me, wide-eyed.

"I can't believe I didn't believe you." She said sadly. "I can't believe I didn't believe any of you." I hold my arms out and Gretche complies, reaching over to scoop me up. "Regina, I'm so sorry."

I don't try and stop the tears that burn in my eyes as Gretchen holds me close to her.

We still have a lot to talk about after this but-

I've finally won after a long and painful battle. All our giants are awake and no longer oblivious to the suffering.

I'm safe.

I cling to Gretchens's shirt as the tears poor over my eyes. Gretchen shakes and I realize- she's crying too.

I wouldn't be surprised if I turned around and the whole table was.

Jason was an asshole. He manipulated his way into the friend group and made my life miserable. Plus Janis and Aaron too, I guess. But he's gone now.

We don't have to worry anymore.

We're okay.

It will be okay.

2.5/10 not my best work but fun to write @realmisspolarbear @smallsoysauce @musicallygt

#yes #shane omen mention is an official trigger warning now #hes a very triggering guy smh #g/t mean girls #tiny regina #giant gretchen #giant jason #ooo #tiny janis #giant damian #tiny aaron #giant cady #giant karen

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generational-atrophy · 2 years ago

Note

Heyheyheyheyheyyy!!!

Can I get the g8+Canada with an s/o who always talks with there hands? Like there hands are always moving no matter what

thank you ‼️

(Main 8 + Canada X Reader) S/O that talks with their hands!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N this is the first canada req ive gotten u guys gotta like this guy more smh /j/j/j/j/j anyway i forgor to do france sorry

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

Alfred would really like a S/O that does this! You know how people put subway surfers gameplay on the bottom of TikToks now? Yeah, your hands have basically the same effect on him. Helps him focus on what you’re actually saying.

He kinda does the same thing too. Recently he’s bought like, a lot of silly stim toys, so if you need something to do with your hands he’s got you covered.

No matter what, he would never get annoyed by how much you gesture and fidget. He does the same thing! Probably as much as you! He just sees it as a good thing, it makes it easier for you to get your point across. If anyone ever got mad at you for it, he’s immediately telling them to shut up.

As much as Arthur tries his best to not be bothered by your constant fidgeting, he can’t help it sometimes. He loves how hyper you are! But sometimes, he’ll hold your hands as an excuse to get you to calm down a little. He’s an old man, he’s got a headache.

But most of the time, he couldn’t care less. I mean, if anything, it just helps him know exactly what you’re talking about quicker. And he didn’t date you because you were calm, he loves you just the way you are! If anyone (besides him,) tried to stop you from fidgeting, he’ll glare at them until they stfu. For you <3

Also, this guy loves giving gifts, if you ask for any fidgets, they’ll be on the dining table the next day.

It’s a real cute trait of yours… but sometimes Yao gets dizzy just seeing you flail your hands around like that. Are you swatting at flies? Are you ok? It’ll… take a bit for him to learn to not comment on it.

After that, he tries to ignore it when he can. Which is ironic, because he does the same exact thing sometimes! Like, he’ll tell you to calm down while talking with his hands himself. So annoying!

He doesn’t mind it too much though. He loves you just as much as he would anyway, he just finds it a bit confusing sometimes.

Oh, Ivan would just find this so charming! Most of the people he spends time with are incredibly stiff and uncomfortable, so seeing you so excitedly try to sputter out something while gesturing wildly is a very welcome change.

But, he has a tendency to stand very close to you while you two are talking, so it’s not an uncommon occurrence for you to smack him upside the head. He doesn’t mind though, there’s no way you could ever hurt him too bad.

Although he would LOVE to buy you cute fidgets, he might be hesitant at first. Simply because he can’t get enough of watching you talk. It’s like a little performance! It’s definitely one of those little things he loves about you so much.

It may make him a little panicked at first, but Matthew quickly learns to love how much you fidget and flail your hands around. He just finds it so adorable… plus your exaggerated speech makes up for how barely audible he is. That part he really appreciates <3

Even though sometimes you remind him a little too much of his brother when it comes to your mannerisms, he would never try to get you to stop or calm down. He loves you for you! Even when he’s a bit worried you’re gonna get hurt with how much you wave your hands around.

Absolutely will buy fidgets for you too! He likes them too so… win-win. Whatever makes it easier for you to be comfortable and talk more, he’ll support whole-heartedly.

Hey! That’s something you two have in common! I mean, Feliciano basically invented talking with your hands. Now you can learn from the master of flailing wildly to get your already confusing point across!

Seriously, he probably won’t even notice how much your hands are moving because it’s just so ingrained in him. But if you ever just… need something to fidget with, he is capable of making anything entertaining for you. Somehow.

He does really adore a high energy S/O though <3 Seeing you get so excited is like, one of his favourite sights in the whole world. Anyone who gets annoyed with you two is gonna… well, be at the receiving end of his pathetic sobs. But that’ll still shut them up, so…

Oh jeez. Now he has another Feliciano on his hands. Except, Ludwig quickly finds himself falling in love with your exaggerated gestures. Whenever you start talking, you’ve got his full attention… and adoration. He just can’t get enough of you!

Despite his reserved demeanour, he loves seeing how excitable you can get. Your energy is infectious! It makes him want to get as exhilarated as you are!

Even when you’re not as enthusiastic, he still can’t help but feel so happy whenever you start talking with your hands. It just reminds him of all the things he loves about you, and how you’ve changed him so much. If it was anyone else, he’d get pretty anxious over the constant movement. But not you, no, never you.

Kiku usually isn’t too keen on that kind of thing usually, either. But… considering two of his closest friends are Alfred and Feliciano, he’s gotten pretty used to it. Most of the time, he doesn’t even look down to notice what you’re doing with your hands. (He worries you’ll assume he’s judging you if he does, which for the record, he isn’t.)

Maybe once or twice a week, he’ll take you hands in his while you’re talking just to get you to calm down a bit, but he really doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just easily distracted and your performance is really not helping.

He’d never try to get you to stop though! He loves you just the way you are! Even when you’re overwhelming him a bit.

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remember-to-be-gentle · 3 years ago

Text

I literally told myself to take a break from writing BNHA men, SMH.

This is the first part in what’s probably going to be three chapters? This is really just a vent piece because I hate my job. No idea when I’ll post the next part. This was also supposed to be posted for Aizawa’s birthday, but that clearly didn’t happen. Also there is NO SMUT in this chapter. With the other installments will, though.

Subject: BNHA, Aizawa Shouta aka Eraserhead

Title: No Good Deed (Quirkless AU)

Trigger Warning: (intense) stalking, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, gun threat (the gun is used but no one is hurt), drugs

Another long fucking night. You slouched in the seat of your car, foot pressed so far down on the pedal that every time you looked at your speed you had a mini heart attack. You scrambled to get back to the speed limit, God forbid you were pulled over and ticketed during the precious few hours of freedom you had.

It was your job's fault you were unsafe to drive right now, not that that would improve your chances of dodging the ticket. Twelve and half hours of manual labor without even a second lunch? And then your employer was cool with just releasing you into the world? That was an actual hazard they were causing! And they would reap all of the benefits while employees suffered twice over.

You sighed. But the money was good and you were always too exhausted to have the energy to start job hunting, so you stayed. You wished you at least had the time to properly feed yourself between shifts at the very least.

With bleary eyes, you tried to focus on the winding freeway back to your place, about an hour or so from your place of work, when something caught your eye.

A figure all in black waving down cars, pale thumb in the air. A hitchhiker. By the brief look you got of him, homeless, too. That, or he’d been walking a very long time. Maybe on a long journey across the country, like one of those hitchhiking robots or teenagers.

A well-rested person would have driven right by without a second thought. A well-rested person wouldn't think about how exhausting it would be in his shoes. A well-rested person wouldn't have pulled over.

You were not well rested.

You hit your blinker and pulled onto the shoulder, flashing your hazard lights as you waited for the stranger to get in your car. Exhaustion smothered any second thoughts you would have normally been having.

With no hesitation, he popped into the front. For a man who'd been walking the highway and was supposedly homeless, based on how he was dressed, he didn't reek of BO or even piss. In fact, you smelled a nearly pleasant cologne. Huh. "Where ya headed?" You tried to keep your tone bright, but your shoulders were hunched and you knew there were severe bags under your eyes.

The stranger barely glanced at you. He looked disheveled. You wondered how long he'd been walking the highway. His long black hair was pulled over one shoulder, thick stubble across his defined chin. "It's not far from here," he rumbled quietly. "I'll give you directions. Keep going straight."

If you weren’t so tired, the deep timber of his voice would have penetrated you right to your core. But you were tired, so you followed his directions, which oddly enough were the same ones you took to go home. The same freeway exit, the same turns, the same neighborhood. "You live here?" You asked, turning onto the street that would lead to your house. Exhaustion wasn’t enough anymore to keep your suspicion suppressed. You were getting a little nervous with this stranger in your car leading you to your own fucking house.

But there was still time to be wrong, to prove it was all a coincidence.

You prayed he wouldn't tell you to turn on the second right, but he did. Your stomach dropped to your feet. There was no way this guy was your neighbor. Maybe he knew someone who lived by you or was an expected guest or—

"You can stop here."

Startled, you pulled over and stopped—in front of your own house. Dread colored your face. Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. “Are you sure this is the—”

Something cold was pressed against your forehead. “Get out of the car. Unlock the front door. Try not to be suspicious.” You couldn’t see what he was holding, but deep down, you knew it was a gun.

Holy shit he was robbing you. Holy shit he knew where you lived. Holy shit he knew where you lived so he could fucking rob you. You bit back a whimper, gathering your house keys as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. Before the thought could hit you to try and run, he was already out of the car and by your side, gun exposed and black and vicious.

He followed you to your front door, watching your hands shake as you struggled to unlock the door. After the fifth try, it opened. You stepped inside and so did he. Then he closed it behind you. “You have twenty minutes to pack a bag.” He withdrew his cellphone with a timer already prepped. “Take only what you need. If you have extra time, then grab amenities. I already have your toiletries at home.”

You froze at that. “Wh-what’s going on?”

“Nineteen minutes.”

“You’re not robbing me?”

The stranger frowned. “I’m kidnapping you.”

“Oh.” Oh.

“Now hurry up. You don’t want me to pack your shit. Trust me.” From the inside of his oversized jacket, the stranger pulled out a folded duffel bag and threw it on the floor. “Now hurry up.”

“Why—”

“Don’t ask unnecessary questions. I’ll explain everything once we’re home.”

Home. Fuck. You scurried to your room and scrambled to call the authorities but the call wouldn’t connect. With horror you saw there was no signal, nothing at all. Not only that but your phone wouldn’t connect to the internet at all. Shit. SHIT. You snatched clothing you liked and threw them in a pile.

"Seventeen minutes."

"Why are you doing this? Who even are you?" Your voice was squeaky, tight with panic and fear.

Patiently and slowly the stranger replied, "I already told you I'd explain later. Don't waste time. You won't be coming back here so take what you need."

Won't be coming back. Fuck. You scrambeled through your drawers for a weapon but what good would anything you have against his gun? You were trapped.

With an ugly and gut wrenching realization, you understood that there was nothing to do but obey. Tears stung your eyes, making it hard to see exactly what you were packing.

You shoved all you clothes into the duffel bag, a photo album, some books, and some precious gifts your friends had given you.

"Time's up." The stranger's heavy footfalls rang like gunshots through your silent house. Looming in your doorway, he looked like the embodiment of evil. "Let me see the bag."

You pushed it over to him.

He rummaged through the contents, pulling out your mementos. "All you need is clothing." He frowned. "You didn't pack the black dress."

You froze. What was he talking about?

As if reading your mind, he raised a brow. "The cute one with the heart cut out on the chest. You wore it to karaoke night last month."

"How do you..." You should have realized it sooner. He wasn't just a thief or a kidnapper, he as a stalker. That's how he knew where your house was, what toiletries you needed, even the clothing in your closet. Your stomach rolled, threatening to empty itself.

"No need for the dramatics." He sauntered to your closet, pulled out a few dresses, then carelessly scattered your dirty clothes hamper on the floor. He licked his lips but then only pulled out a few tops and shorts before shoving it all into the duffel bag. "Give me your phone."

You reluctantly handed it over. It was better to lose it than your life, right?

He set it on the floor, pulled out the gun and fired. An ear piercing sound that left your head white for a moment made you jump out of your skin, finally shaking off your exhaustion. A clean hole through your phone destroying it.

"Time to go. I'll drive." The gun was pointed at you again.

He followed you out of the house to the car, watched you get inside, then slid into the driver's seat. He fished something out of his pocket. A mini cake in plastic wrapping. "Eat this, I'm sure you're hungry."

"Th-thanks." You were hungry. You shouldn't eat it, especially after nearly throwing up, but just looking at it made your mouth water. You ate it.

"Good girl," he purred. He started the car and drove out of the neighborhood, getting back on the freeway. "It should kick in in about ten minutes. Try to relax, don't fight it."

"What? Was it a weed brownie?"

He glanced at you. "No." He glanced at you. “You ate before you left work, right?”

“No, I—”

“Oh. You’re probably going to want to lean your seat back then. It hits harder when—”

You felt it hit you. Not like when you had too many edibles at your friend’s party or when you had your wisdom teeth removed. This was your mouth drying, skin pricking, stomach dropping right before a nightmare and then swallowing black.

***

The car lurched to a stop. You sat up, gasping for breath, head swimming and aching.

“Even with an empty stomach, I managed to time it perfectly.” The stranger parked your car in front of a modern house, at least two stories without any other houses in sight. In fact, all you could see were trees around the property. This was way too expensive for some homeless looking stalker to afford.

He got out of the car, putting your duffel bag over his shoulder before opening your door. “Don’t try to run. You’ll end up eaten by a bear before you can find your way to town. That would be a waste for both of us.”

You couldn’t have run if you wanted to. You felt like someone had hit you over the head with a baseball bat. Reluctantly, you followed the stranger into his house. The moment you crossed the threshold, you knew you’d never be going home. The stranger pushed you in.

Inside, was sparse to say the least. A wide open living room with only a desk in one corner, an entertainment corner, and glass stairs. Two doors on either sides of the room opened to a steel colored kitchen and a guest bedroom. The stranger didn’t let you gawk, you pushed you forward toward the stairs, following you up. “It's the door on the left,” he said.

The door in question was already ajar. Inside was a bedroom straight from a home designer’s nightmare. Pitch black sheets and pillows took up half the bed, the other half was painfully pink, as if he’d torn apart and sewn to different bedroom sets together. Pink house slippers next to black ones. A "his and hers" bastardization of a bedroom design.

The stranger shrugged out of his jacket and your eyes bulged. He was huge. You knew he had a good amount of height on you but his arms were jacked and torso was surprisingly cut. Not like a model but like someone who expected to have to have to get into a physical altercation. Like he expected to have had to hold you down by force.

“Anything that’s pink is yours,” he muttered. “I wanted to make it obvious whose was whose. You’ll see in the bathroom.” He set your duffel bag down on the carpet. “My name is Shouta Aizawa. Call me what you like. I’m a programmer for a large company but they let me take the week off, that should help you adjust to living here. I work primarily from home, but if there’s an emergency they’ll call me.”

“Why—”

“I took you,” he said answering your question before you could get it out of your mouth, “because you asked me to.” At the look on your face he pulled out his phone, showing you screenshots of your private twitter drafts, texts between friends, tumblr posts, and even your favortie x readers on AO3. All of it about your fantasies of being kidnapped and living in a handsome stranger’s basement so wouldn’t have to work or worry about paying taxes ever again. “I know I’m not like the men in your fics, but I want to make you happy. You’ll be comfortable here, as long as you obey.”

You sat on the bed. Holy shit. He hadn’t just been stalking you IRL, he’d been cyberstalking you, too, digging into your private accounts that didn't have your name on them, just to peruse your fantasies—then use them against you.

“The computer in the living already has a profile set up for you. But keywords are blocked. If you so much as try to google the definition for 'help' or 'kidnap' it’ll lock you out and alert me. If you try and film a video using key phrases either the same will happen.” Aizawa, scratched his head as he thought about what else he needed to say. “Uh, I probably won’t try anything your first week, but you should know I have a pretty high libido. Don’t give me that look, I just said I won’t try anything for the first week. That’s more than fair.”

Why was he talking like you were coming to his place to inconvenience him? He kidnapped you! But arguing with a crazy person wouldn't get you anywhere. “I want to go home,” you murmured.

Aizawa replied as if he hadn’t heard you. “Take a bath. You’ll feel better once you start acclimating. And if I’m missing any of your toiletries let me know, I’ll order them for you. Oh, and don’t try to buy anything on the family computer. I’ll buy anything you want, just send me a link to the page using the folder on your desktop. You’ll get locked out if you try to put your address or my credit card.” He frowned. “You look pale. Was this overwhelming? Should I have made a pamphlet instead?”

What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? He kidnapped you and then started explaining how things work like you were at a hotel kiosk. One moment you were driving home and now you were in your stalker's house. You'd be forced to live with him.

You swallowed the nausea threatening to turn to nile in your stomach. "I'll just take a bath."

Aizawa stepped toward you, gently petting your head as if you were a nervous animal. "You'll be fine. Just be patient with yourself and with me. This will be good for us." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading towards the door. "The left side of the dresser is empty so put your clothes in there. There's a closet, too, if you want to hang things." Then he closed the door and was gone.

Cautiously you approached the door after him and found it had no lock. Of course. When you checked the bathroom door it was the same. Privacy was an illusion.

You closed the bathroom door regardless, running a hot bath as you picked through your toiletries. The bathroom was bordered by a large bathtub on the far wall, an oval shaped mirror over a tall sink with wide counter space near the door. On the sink were black and pink toothbrushes, the black one clearly was already in use. A brand new pink electric razor had been hooked to the wall by the mirror, one of the ones that made it nearly impossible to cut yourself on.

Aizawa had bought everything you used, right down to your Function of Beauty set and preferred soap brand, brand new and unopened next to the tub.

Over the tub were a few floating shelves, already full with a clear bowl full of pink, pleasant smelling bath bombs and Epson salts. You were getting sick of pink pretty quickly. Was this how he was going to designate your things? It oddly felt like he'd put a leash on you.

You did oblige yourself in throwing a bath bomb and some salt into the bath water.

It had been forever since you had a nice bath but could you really do it in your kidnaper's house? The throbbing ache in your arms, back, and thighs said yes. You hadn't exactly had time to rest since your last shift ended. Your final shift if Aizawa kept you. You shivered. Hesitantly, you undressed and slipped into the water letting the heat work out the ache of labor from your body.

Instead of a washcloth, Aizawa had left you (pink) exfoliating gloves. You cleaned yourself off, washed your hair, and tried to relax. Panicking wasn't going to save you, especially not now. Aizawa was bigger and stronger than you. He had control of the house, the internet—everything. Even if you got a hold of his phone, you doubted he got a signal out here.

You didn't know how long you were in the tub, but you eventually toweled off (pink) and made your way back to the bedroom. Cleaning up had made you feel a little better putting your clothes away would help, too, even if that meant letting the psychopath who kidnapped you have his way. Once that was done, you were left with the nice dresses he'd pulled out. For what purpose he wanted you to have them, you had no idea. But you gathered them to hang them in the closet.

You opened the door, flicked on the light, and froze. A human shaped silhouette was hanging on the wall, a head of hair like your own and an identical dress to the black one Aizawa liked on her body. You screamed.

Who was that? The last girl he'd kidnapped? Someone who'd gone against him in the past?

Aizawa burst into the room, eyes wide. "What happened? Are you—" he stopped talking when he saw the closet. He quickly pushed past you and snatched the body off the wall like it weighed nothing. "It's just a doll, baby." His hand was petting you again, showing you it was a life sized sex doll. One that looked eerily like you. "I had to use something to..." He flushed red. "Nevermind. I'll put this in the guest room so it won't freak out anymore." Then he was gone.

A sex doll that looked just like you. How long had he been watching you? Waiting for this moment to have you trapped under his roof? He'd been fantasizing about it so intensely he needed a fucking sex doll to relieve himself. A sex doll he'd taken the time to either customize or found one to look like you. Any comfort you had from your bath evaporated.

With shaking hands you hung up the last of your clothes, trying not to pay attention to the shelf along the back wall full of new bottles of lube, a selection of dildos (one that was identical to your own), and the standing calendar that looked a little too much like a period tracker. You tried not to read your private appointments written there or the big red circle over today's date. Or the copy of your emergency contacts paperclipped to the bottom.

When you were done, you closed the door. You didn't want to go back in there. Ever.

Aizawa popped open the bedroom door, "Dinner's ready, come down." Then he left.

Dinner? Was it that late already? The sun had been rising when you drove home this morning. How could it already be time for dinner? As if to prove Aizawa wasn’t tricking you, your stomach growled, emptiness suddenly filling the cavity of your abdomen. You were starving. How did this happen?

You went down to join him.

The kitchen was modern, all stainless steel save for a cheap Ikea table, countertops, and chairs. You couldn't help noticing the lack of a knife block on the table.

"I don't usually cook," Aizawa said. "Just order takeout. If you want to make something or have a request for dinner, just let me know." He was already sitting at the table in a ratty turtleneck and gray sweatpants. Spread out before him was a cheap and fast breakfast: scrambled eggs, toaster waffles, and some sliced fruit. "Eat as much as you want. I'm sure you're tired, too. Tomorrow we'll talk, okay?"

Your nerves were still frazzled and all you wanted was the safety and comfort if your old life. But wishing didn't change where you were. You wanted to cuss out Aizawa or flip the table, but all you could manage to choke out was, "Okay."

#Raven Writes #Aizawa Shouta x Reader #Eraserhead x Reader #yandere aizawa x reade #Yandere x Reader #Male Yandere #TW stalking #TW kidnapping #tw drugs #tw gun violence #tw obsessive behavior #quirkless au

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