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#i usually queue these for a specific hour but oh well
heywriters · 11 months
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For the ask meme: 7, 23, 36, 40?
you are crazy sweet for always responding to these, especially because I queue them and forget. in fact, I have an unanswered one of yours still sitting in my inbox because it came in while i was logged out for a while.
7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?
no specific scene comes to mind, but showing the intent behind a place is fun, like portraying a society as ambitious or crumbling or overbearing purely by describing its architecture. decay is one of my favorite things to describe because it can show neglect, the passing of time, the effects of weather, and/or that something has been well-used and loved.
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another worldbuilding motif of mine is food. i love making up fantasy foods, or describing a real place by the type and quality of the food. people are also a very important part of worldbuilding to me because i'm a people-watcher irl, so i try to include the interesting types of people i see in daily life in my stories.
23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?
murder mystery thriller. i have a half-dozen plot ideas for this genre but i lose interest in them too quickly. one is about a wildfire, one involves police corruption, one starts with a party on a beach, and one is even set in space...but i cannot make myself complete the outlines let alone start writing. i think the idea of sustaining suspense for a whole story intimidates/bores my brain. maybe someday
36. Do you visualize what you read/write?
oh, always. the only time my mind draws a blank is usually during dialogue. otherwise, it's like watching a movie in my head or experiencing VR. and while writing, if I can't visualize it I physically act it out or sketch/research an environment so I can better adjust my brain to the setting.
40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?
I don't know if I should laugh or sigh because hell yeah I re-read. Too much. Too often. If I re-read I edit or I get excited for the ending I never wrote, and either way I end up wasting hours I meant to spend on something else (thanks, ADHD). I've started a new thing where I write quick, small pieces that make me happy and I re-read them until the dopamine is gone. Once that happens, they either move to The Big File where I intend to connect them all into a linear story, or I delete them because they're superfluous/redundant.
Thanks for being the best!
this was good for my brain, so i have to go write now <3
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autumnalwalker · 2 years
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15 Questions: Character interview edition
Thank you for the tag, @words-after-midnight. I do enjoy writing in-character responses to questions.
Passing the tag to @cljordan-imperium, @theprissythumbelina, @blind-the-winds, @oh-no-another-idea, @dogmomwrites, and an open tag for anyone else who wishes to join in the fun.
Since this week's upcoming Empty Names chapter is from Ashan Glassheart's POV, I'll queue him up for this. I'm tempted to go do the rest of the Empty Names cast at some point in the future as well, like I did last time.
1. Are you named after anyone?
My grandfather, although I have not used that name in more than half my life. I still think of it a name of mine, but it is also a memento of a time I cannot go back to. Meanwhile, "Glassheart" is an homage to my teacher's epithet of "Glassgaze." As is traditional.
2. When was the last time you cried?
When I visited the tombstone my parents put up for me.
3. Do you have any kids?
No, and I would prefer to avoid the possibility. I may consider adoption one day though, particularly if I ever decide to take an apprentice.
4. Do you use sarcasm?
Only sparingly.
5. What's the first thing you notice about people?
Their overall demeanor. Tone, body language, and etcetera. Useful elements for planning impending interaction.
6. What's your eye color?
Light brown. Someone once called them "amber," but that was an ill-conceived attempt at winning me over with poetry on his part coupled with odd lighting.
7. Scary movies or happy endings?
There is more than enough fear out and about in the world. And besides, I have not seen a movie since I was a child. Perhaps I should amend that.
8. Any special talents?
Other than being a wizard? I suppose I am a passable dancer. My teacher insisted it was good exercise for staying light on one's feet.
9. Where were you born?
Earth, the local anchor world iteration of it specifically, despite having left young. My early childhood memories are of a rural small town. Pray forgive me not being more specific, but my family still lives there and even if they think I died years ago I would prefer to respect their privacy.
10. What are your hobbies?
Finding relatively secluded natural areas to meditate in is the first thing that comes to mind for such a question, particularly since spending hours in a library pouring over tomes on arcane theory and practice is largely considered part of my profession rather than a hobby, no matter how much I enjoy it.
11. Have you any pets?
No, nor is my preferred practice of magic one that typically incorporates familiars.
12. What sports do you play/have played?
The closest I have ever come to playing sports is the time my teacher signed the two of us up as contestants in a gladiatorial tournament of sorts. She said it would be a good learning experience and practical test of my skills. She was correct, as usual, even if I was eliminated halfway through. Meanwhile she made it to the final bout and I have long suspected that she only lost that because she was holding back for the sake of not upsetting my image of her.
13. How tall are you?
Five feet, six inches. Roughly the same as my teacher. Given how much of a role model she was for me, I suspect the Autogenesis Principle may be as responsible for this a genetics. "What is the Autogenesis Principle?" It is the tendency for the bodies of those exposed to the supernatural - particularly those from anchor worlds who had previously been unaware of its existence - to physically warp and change over time to align with their self-image. That is the simplified version at the least. In practice there can be any number of factors complicating this creation of the self, so that one person might be barely affected while another can undergo exaggerations that border on the monstrous.
14. Favorite subject in school?
I was still in elementary school when I... left home with the woman who would become my teacher, but the memories of reading classes are the ones that I recall most vividly. To her credit though, she did make a point of tutoring me in other subjects I was missing out on more formal education for alongside my magical training.
15. Dream job?
Being a wizard and helping those in need. As I am already doing.
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thessalian · 1 year
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Thess vs Overtime, Day 3
Well. Not really Day 3, because I got through about five minutes before body and brain both rebelled and I just went, "No, fuck this".
On the plus side, I did get us to the queue being only 24 hours. The negative side? For ... I'm going to say about an hour and a half or so, I was doing it alone, or at least so it seemed.
First thing I noticed was at about half-past three, a half-dozen reports from Wednesday afternoon got tossed into the queue. Possibly more; I was working too hard to check timestamps for awhile. That's a Goblin trick - take some typing out of the queue to show willing, do something else (actual work or not) until she can more or less say, "Oh, I won't get these done; it's too late now", and then toss them back into the queue for some other poor shmuck (usually me) to deal with. Of course, these ones were relatively short, so she would have had plenty of time with a 4pm departure time (that's when her workday ends), but ... that's Goblin for you, especially when Scruffman's away.
(I should note that there were still ones from late Wednesday afternoon when I logged in this morning, but those were long and complicated ones, or ones from the new guy who is really bad at these, and in some cases both. Temp avoided those and got started in on the stuff that she likes better. She did that most of the day, as far as I can recall, picking and choosing so specifically that there were little gaps in the typing queue but the whole timeline of the queue went further back than it should have. I know why she doesn't take things in chronological order, but I am fed up with her entitled attitude about it.)
Anyway, when I finally got those done, I started noticing that the number of reports was going up with no corresponding down-tick of "someone else taking stuff out of the queue". That was around 4pm. Which makes zero sense, because Temp works until at minimum 5pm. I mean, it's possible that one or two got taken out while I wasn't looking, from somewhere in today's typing (not urgents, though - I was the only one who touched those, too), but I somehow doubt it. So I had to work basically on my own for about an hour and a half, with the only bright side being that we seemed to only have one person reporting towards the end of the afternoon. But despite only having today's typing left in the queue, we have more bits of typing now than we did when I logged off yesterday - somewhere to the tune of 260 reports.
I thought about clearing some of it; I really did. I just could not make myself do it. I got through about five minutes getting to the point of "Okay, it's only today's typing; we're only 24 hours behind now, at least" and ... well, I've been working at a pace that I shouldn't be working for days, I've been working hours that I shouldn't be working, also for days, and I am already suffering for this. But I also know that there will be people reporting over the weekend and it'll get stupid and my colleagues will still lounge around doing the bare minimum on Monday and I'll come back on Tuesday to a horror show because none of them fucking care. I have to pull a double-duty that physically cripples me because they won't work to any reasonable standard unless the manager is breathing down their necks.
I swear, people like them give those of us who work from home a bad name. They're the ones people point at and say, "Look what happens when employees are away from managerial supervision! This is why we need them in the office being monitored at all times!" And then there's me, who does work from home and doesn't need to be hovered over to do my damn job.
Part of me wants to do something fun, just because I've had so few spoons to do anything fun lately. The rest of me just wants to be a duvet burrito until Tuesday morning because I am exhausted, in no small amount of pain, and fed the fuck up. Well, not literally, because once again I was too busy working to actually get any food into me and this time I didn't even have cookies to shove into my face so I'm running on coffee and am honestly not in good enough shape to even contemplate food right now.
On one hand, it's the weekend, so at least maybe I can get some rest. On the other hand, I have a whole other week of this. Still, at least after that I have a week off. I'm going to fucking need it.
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icyfox17 · 1 year
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1, 4, 8, 22, 26, 29, 30, 32, 35, 40, 52, 58 (It’s Golden Hour Somewhere :) and 61 (Wilbur Soot and Lovejoy!)
I know that’s a hekkin ton, so you don’t have to answer all of them XD
1. Are you an albums person or a singles person?
Albums !!! I think . askdfjksd
4. Is there a song you love but don't like its music video?
oh i am sure there are lots... especially songs from when i was a kid bc radio music always has hypersexualised music videos and those always made me feel so so uncomfy... can't think of an example rn though :0
8. Is there an artist or song that you like, despite being of a genre you don't usually like?
OOOHH HTHIS IS AN INTERESTING QUESTION HMM
Scared of the Dark by lil wayna, ty dollar sign, and xxx. i do Not like mumble rap and i really didn't like the verses but the CHORUS WAS SOOO GOUGHOGHOUGHOG EXPLODES that i listened to it on repeat and now i love the song (even tho i find the guys voice in the verse funny)
29. Songs you love to dance to:
funny you should ask that bc i have a playlist~ ... I JUST DELETED IT BY ACCIDENT FUCKKKKKK AWOFEIJAWEFLK
anyways. i will fix that later welp KFJSAKDJF
come on eileen by dexys midnight runners is A CLASSIC AND MUST BE ADDED IT'S THE BEST DANCING SONG EVER IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND EVER SINCE I READ BEES FIC HONEY AND TANGERINES IT MADE IT EVEN BETTER I CANNOT DO THIS RAHSSSSSS
disco by surf curse is another song that is just INSTANT DANCE VIBES how can u NOT dance to it
kiss goodnight by IDKHOW is another really lovely song that always makes me want to dance :)))
30. Songs you love to sing along to:
now this one i ALSO have a playlist and i will NOT delete it this time ohmgyod im actually so sad i loved my dancing playlist HELPS FDKJKJD
songs that are Simply Bangers hehehe this one's for when i just wanna shout lyrics at the top of my lungs
but for specific onesssss
Locked Outta Heaven by Bruno Mars // IT'S SO GOOD IT MAKES ME FEEL UNHINGED IL OVE IT SO MCHUH ABRKARKJWBAEKAWJKB unfortunately the lyrics make me feel Uncomfortable singing bc . major ace here woOOO but it's fine i just live in denial and try to remind myself that most ppl are actually yknow normal about sex unlike me LMAOFASJKFKJ
You Make My Dreams by Hall & Oats // literally any 80s song makes me so inexplicably happy and i Need to sing the lyrics aloud at the top of my lungs man
40. Which was the best concert you’ve ever been to?
i love ALL of the concerts ive been to but... half alive . half alive was SO FRICKEN COOL DAWGWGAOJIAWEAAEWR THE LIGHTS THE DANCING I CANT I CANNOT GET OVER IT IT WAS ONE OF THE GREATEST MOMENTS OF MY LIFE /SRS IT WAS INCREDIBLE OHMYOGDDD
52. Do you make playlists to be listened to in a specific order or in shuffle? Or both?
so i used to. hate shuffling. bc i am very very picky about the order of songs i listen to (like when i shuffle i will just . look at the queue and edit it intensely). so i used to make them for a specific order and actually one of my favourite things to do is figure out songs that transition super super nicely into each other oguhoguhgo so making a playlist that is perfect from start to finish is my dream... however rn i have such a big?? music taste??? that the playlists are so long and curating it to be the Perfect Experience would take too much time so now i just add shit and shuffle ofssdlkfd
58. Send me a song and I'll tell you the colors it made me think of, without looking at cover arts or music videos.
well that's just kinda unfair the word gold is literally in the title HELPPP but i picture the field that's in the music video (wait help "without looking at the music video" too late for that buddy it's engrained in my memory with how many times ive watched it), like that greenish colour that's what i think of yellowish green
but okay okay im turning it on now and the colours i get while listening to it is faded pastel yellow from the guitar intro, it turns more brownish orange in the verses, DEF a deep yellow/brown when the bass comes in
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the chorus is green to me, the ooOooOOo is green and yellow to me
gosh i love golden hour
61. Make me choose between two artists/songs/albums.
ooohhh this one is hard bc like lovejoy has so much more stuff but wilbur soot changed my life
im choosing wilbur bc of since i saw vienna but do know that this hurt me asdjkfasdjkhf
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brightsuzaku · 1 year
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So, I Have Space Freighters: Part 1
Oh, let's talk about something FUN for a change! It's a longpost about... space freighters. 
Ok, so in most of the stuff I've come up with, after years of role-playing science-fictional stuff with my best friend? For our stories?! Set in space! And, I'm one of the people participating here, so we've got "spaceships as people", too! Riveting! That's one of my favorite concepts! 
Well, an idea that has been a part of these worlds that we come up with includes Extremely Dumb Freighters. Like, they are not smart, and I mean they are intentionally not that smart. They really do not need to be, for how they work.
I am so sorry in advance to perfectly intelligent, quick-thinking, and hard-working heavy space boats that do the thankless job of Moving Stuff Around The Stars All The Time, but my first ideas were of specifically dumb freighters. And, it turns out they have their niche, and they fill it very well. 
So, it's like, we have these big slow-travel freighter ships that travel along preset "tracks" through general space, and they take special pre-set warp gates, along said tracks to speed along. Now, these occasional warp gates that are set along their tracks' are 2-way gates that only allow freighters through. And so, these ships normally pass through with zero issues, and trundle along their way all happy and undeterred.
But, as I originally explained it, the oldest in the fleet "aren't well-optimized and cannot adapt to setbacks". I'm talking about basic setbacks with basic solutions as simple as, well... Moving! Even slightly! In a different direction of some kind! To advance travel progress!
You see, because space allows movement along all axes it should be simple enough to move out of the way, right?
But no, no, I said poorly optimized, didn't I? They are not very maneuverable, and are trapped within their constraints, ostensibly for safety, I'm sure.
You see, most other ships that encounter these big freighters are gonna hear a monotonous "You Are Blocking My Route." repeated into all channels for the next measurable 4 hours (and counting). We'll get back to this, I promise.
Freighters will say "You Are Blocking My Route" regardless of what may be preventing them from progressing their travel.
So, imagine the most ideal un-ideal situation, where a route is being "blocked". A freight systems engineer could see that this was flagged, and intervene to change the track's checkpoints of each part of the route slightly. This would force freighters to "move around", but that kind of intervention requires LOTS of ships hitting LOTS of setbacks. It might even start to look like a queue!
Intervention, however, is extremely rare.
See, in a normal situation where a big hunk of rock is "blocking the route" the ship will complain about it repeatedly, until the hunk idly floats away. If MULTIPLE ships queue up for too long, someone probably does intervene, because that is rather unusual.
But usually, stuff floats back out of the way.
Every single track that these freighters move along has been specifically designed to allow passage with as few problems as possible. There should not be many issues with debris! Stuff rarely changes that much in space, unless something specifically happens! And, even if something does idly get in the way, usually a route is clear enough within an hour.
These freighters are big enough and strong enough that they could probably plow through minor problems with relative ease, even as they repeat "You Are Blocking My Route" the whole way through. 
So, unless it's an actual debris field that cannot easily be rerouted, and some horrifying freighter backup queue suddenly appears on Known Space News 655 or something, these small blips usually do not affect freight traffic. The freighters. Are just really stupid.
They do a great job of moving where they need to move! Going where they need to go! Unbothered! Thriving! In their lane! Literally!
So, for now, you know how my freighters work!
I AM SORRY TO EVERY INTELLIGENT AND HARD-WORKING FREIGHTER THAT DOES NOT NEED THIS SHADE.
These space freighters largely transport cargo that is being traded or moved all the time, and so the tracks are like a supply line. Faster freighters that need brains, personhood, and rights handle different cargo, including anything time-sensitive stuff. (GIVE YOUR SPACESHIPS RIGHTS.)
Also, PART 2 is up!
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embossross · 2 years
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Hi ! It's me again, your number one fan !
I hope you're doing well. I seem to remember you once said that you'd rather have your comments here than in the comment area, so here we go !
« You want to call the boyfriend and tell him you're on a romantic vacation with your lover? » That's the term « lover » to me. Imagining Hanma saying it and even though it's sarcastic.. 🤌🏻
Shiba siblings 🫶🏻 (except Taiju, no need to explain) I'm so happy to see Yuzuha, the real girlboss of TKR ! Her relationship with Hakkai is so cute, I mean, we all want a brother to buy us a business.
« You just want me to come closer because you're too blind to see me from here » AHAHA GG GIRL 😬
« Hanma is speaking directly to your cunt, in his own universe. » Idk why, but it sounds so poetic, so beautiful ! I love it !
« Whatever baby wants. » ok, I'm liquefying !!!
THE END ????!!! OMG THE ENDING I CAN'T IT'S TOO MUCH ELSSJZODKSJ !
Ok *breath in, breath out*, that's the end of my live reaction. It was amazing, I really loved this chapter and its calm, natural, wild atmosphere. I swear I felt like I could hear the birds, the breeze and the water trickling all along.
Thanks again for sharing this with us <3
Oh before I forget, I saw a while ago that you were looking for recommendations for Hanma fics, if that's still the case, I'd recommend you « his God is a gun » (this one is very cool, you'll find it on AO3) and « deranged love » (aptly named, one of my favorite fics and volume 2 should be coming out in January, also on AO3 but I think it's on tumblr too).
Voilààà I'm done with my usual monologue, sorry, it's getting longer and longer.
See you soon, I'm so excited to read the next chapter 🥰
thank you so much 💗 it's always so fun to relive the chapters through your comments and what draws your eye. it's like seeing it in a completely new way - even though i just edited on monday
touched beyond measure that you feel like you could hear the birds and the breeze and the rest of it. scenic writing is not one of my natural strengths but something i'm actively working at. (i have a powerpoint of bugs, trees, and birds of tokyo saved literally to help me be more dynamic in my descriptions lol). and i really wanted to nail it for this chapter specifically!
you are the 2nd person to recommend god is a gun to me, so i will definitely check it out when i have a chance. bumping it up the queue. and i will look into deranged love too. It sounds interesting.
pls be as long as you want, i love your asks. they make me feel so seen and heard because if you think you have a lot to say, i could talk about every chapter for half as long as i worked on it...so for like 3-5 hours each :)
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memwazz · 1 year
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SEVEN Backstories - Cat and Aloïs :
The Marshall Effect
"I had chatted with this man for less than a quarter of an hour, but it felt like I'd just been blown by a hurricane. 'Guess it was the Marshall Effect. "
Here's another flashback for my story SEVEN : Division United, but it's written and not drawn this time !
The story is from Cat's viewpoint and tells how she met her future boyfriend Aloïs when she was still working as a cashier in a small grocery store.
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"Nothing interesting had happened in my life for the last two years and it wasn’t quite surprising. I mean, what could happen to an average girl working at a quiet little grocery store to pay off her student loan? This place was about to close permanently because it barely worked anyway. 
 The evening shifts especially, were the most boring times of the week. My manager usually left at eight, then no customer would ever come and I was doomed to wait at the checkout for an hour, if not more. 
It was until he appeared from nowhere. Never saw him before – or trust me, I would have remembered. On a rainy Thursday evening a tall, well-mannered man in a suit walked in, exactly twenty minutes before the closure. Nothing unusual at the beginning, yet I kept my eyes on him because I had nothing else to do. 
Then he started zigzagging between the shelves, walking past the same ones again and again. He was probably lost since it seemed to be his first time here. 
I glanced at the nonexistent queue and stood up to leave the desk. Helping that guy would keep me busy for the next five minutes and it was exactly what I was looking for. 
“Hello. Can I help you?” I asked when I reached him. 
He startled like he hadn’t heard me coming and turned around with a confused look. 
“Hi, uh, what do you mean ?”
“You look a bit lost, I was wondering if you were looking for anything specific.”
He shook his head. 
“I’m not lost,” he replied in a distant tone. “I just have… patterns.”
“Oh, fine then, I’m sorry I bothered you.”
He politely nodded and started shopping again, then I got back to my desk. 
The man finally returned while I was eagerly staring at the clock. Right after the cashing and when he was about to leave, there were only two minutes left before we closed. 
“Just in time,” I smiled. “Guess you’re lucky.”
“It’s no chance,” he said, “I calculated. Good evening.”
After he was gone and during the whole closing, I kept thinking of how special this encounter was. 
But as busy as I was, I quickly forgot about it. Until the very next Thursday, when the same man came again… exactly twenty minutes before the close. “No chance,” I immediately thought, “just calculations.”
When he came up to me, he was queuing alone again, standing without a word. The silence quickly embarrassed me for an unknown reason so I took a deep breath and thought about something to say. He was the only person I could even talk to anyway. 
“So, uh,” I awkwardly asked, “did you just move nearby? I’ve only seen you twice.”
“Not at all,” he answered, “I’ve been in Departown for years. I just…” he paused, looked away and scratched his neck, almost troubled. “Not that I like changing my habits but I had to. The shop I used to go to stopped selling Worcestershire sauce. It felt like a treason so I decided I would never come back.”
I blinked and kept quiet for a second, then laughed openly thinking it was a joke. Who would ever feel betrayed by a grocery store ? 
But the man stared at me with a straight face and I immediately felt stupid. Was it for real? If so, my laugh had probably sounded like a mockery. I blushed and apologized but my customer stood silent and kept looking away. What a fucking faux pas. 
While scanning his items, I wondered what I should do. Shut the fuck up for the next three minutes or just keep chatting like nothing happened? 
I decided to fight my talkative temper and focused on these carefully aligned articles. But my extreme concentration quickly got troubled by a strange feeling of déjà-vu. Like the cashing was occurring the exact same way as the previous week. Was it by chance or… calculations? 
A sentence suddenly came back to my mind: “I have patterns”. It was probably the key so I attentively stared at my screen looking for the said pattern. And it hit me like a flash. 
“Is that…”
“Alphabetic order?” the man guessed. “Yes.”
Surprised to see my intuition confirmed, I quickly checked the screen again. The last articles from the list were indeed vanilla, wheat bread, – an indecent quantity of – white vinegar and… of course, Worcestershire. I couldn’t hold back a smile. 
“Wow. Impressive.”
Despite his face being inexpressive, he looked kind of satisfied when I pronounced this word. I smiled again, he politely greeted me, walked away and disappeared behind the automatic doors. Two minutes before the closing.
Never in my boring life had I ever met such a singular customer. Not that it was unpleasant, on the contrary: not only had he saved me from my monotonous Thursday evenings, but I also liked our unique interactions. 
No need to say this man was in my mind every shift I worked. My stupid brain even started nicknaming him. From then on, he would be Mr. Worcestershire and I was looking forward to seeing him again. 
To my disappointment, he didn’t come back the next week and my Thursday shift was longer than ever. I didn’t even know why I was that upset: what was I expecting from a man I had only met twice ? Not everyone goes shopping every week anyway. Still, it felt like something was missing.
Fortunately, he quickly showed up again: same day, same time. Seeing him at my desk brightened my evening and I greeted him thoughtlessly: 
“Mr. Worcestershire! Long time no see!”
Crap. I felt stupid again. What was I thinking, calling him by that dumb nickname out loud? I blushed in shame, expecting him to be offended; but he just raised an eyebrow, half-surprised, half-embarrassed, hundred percent serious.
“It must be a mistake," he told me. “My name’s Aloïs Marshall.”
I hushed for almost a minute, taking the time to swallow my shame and the fact that he had totally missed the point. Maybe it was for the better.
“Catherine Harris,” I bounced back. “But Cat’s more than enough!”
“Nice to meet you, Cat.”
What I read as a slight smile surprised and pleased me at the same time. Maybe he liked our interactions too. 
The next few weeks seemed to prove my point. Aloïs stopped coming twenty minutes early, but twenty-five then thirty so we would have more time to chat. I learnt he had just passed the bar and was planning to become a lawyer. He liked clocks, played piano, had a brother and a kitten. 
It wasn’t much information – to be honest, it was most of the time just me sharing my day and him quietly listening – but I was grateful to know them. This man looked distant, secretive and obviously wasn’t a talker: seeing him gradually open up had something soothing. After our weekly small talks became an established routine, my impression of bothering him and talking too much completely faded away. 
Then came this Thursday when something obviously looked wrong. I was waiting for my only, faithful eight pm customer and as time went, I honestly thought he would not show up. But he did, twenty minutes late. 
Late? I would have never thought Aloïs was physically able to be late. He was in a rush, almost running in the alleys, looking completely lost although he was supposed to know the store like the back of his hand. When he reached the checkout, I noticed his shirt collar was unusually loose, his hair tousled and his skin pallid. 
“A-are you okay?” I asked, worried.
“Yes,” Aloïs’ tone was tense, almost cold.
His shaking voice troubled me even more but I did not dare insist. He turned his eyes away from me, said no more words, we didn’t chat and he left in a hurry.
After his hasty departure, it took me almost a minute to be able to move again. Something serious was going on but I didn’t know what nor how to help. 
I inhaled and shook my head. For the moment, the priority was to close the shop. Despite my trouble, I think I managed to complete the work without forgetting anything. But as I was on my way to leave and lock the store, a loud noise surprised me. A smashing sound coming from the parking lot. 
I scurried outside to find a car had just hit a pole full force and I ran into its direction. Just as I feared, Aloïs was behind the wheel and looked completely distressed. He lowered the window as soon as our eyes met. 
“Are you hurt?” I yelled in panic.
“No. Just a big scare," he sighed and I finally allowed myself to breathe.
“I’d never have thought you were that bad as a driver,” I joked to relax the atmosphere. 
“I’m not,” Aloïs defended himself. “This is just not my day.”
I looked him in the eye. Here we were. First, that troubled attitude. Next, a car accident.
“What happened?”
He didn’t reply right away and simply lowered his head. He was close to tears and his exhausted expression broke my heart. His shoulders stiffened and he shivered.
“You can talk to me,” I insisted. 
“My brother’s in the hospital,” he said abruptly, all of a sudden. 
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “Is his life at risk?”
“Not anymore, I think. But I’m not allowed to see him yet.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering how he could’ve taken this at face value. But it was not the question.
“Anyway, I have to go,” Aloïs concluded before he put a hand on the parking brake. 
“Wait. No, no, no,” I objected. “You’re not driving. Not in that state.”
“I can do it. Leave me alone,” his voice cooled down. 
“You can’t! I assure you that if you start this car again, the next thing you hit won’t be a simple parking pole.” 
Aloïs gritted his teeth and looked straight in my eye. Deep inside, he knew I was right and it angered him. 
“I can drive you home,” I offered. “I just want to make sure you’re alri–”
‘’No.”
I was surprised by his expeditive tone and by the following sigh. He stayed silent a few seconds then started again: 
“First, I don’t like to bring people near my house. Second, I don’t want to come home tonight.”
“Why?”
“I…” his voice shattered.
He probably felt embarrassed by the heartbroken compassion in my eyes because he instantly looked away.
“It’s nothing,” he pretended. “It’s just… Home feels empty without him. And I will lose my mind if I see that bathtub again. I haven't cleaned it up yet."
I didn’t understand which bathtub he was referring to and what it even meant, but of course home felt empty. How hadn’t I thought about it before? Aloïs was left alone and absolutely not in the mental condition to be. 
“Just come to my place then,” I said without thinking further.
“What?” his eyes opened wide like he wasn’t taking me seriously. 
“I mean, there isn’t much space,” I added, “but I have pizza. And Netflix.”
He laughed nervously and remained silent for a few never-ending seconds. He seemed to hesitate, carefully considering the suggestion. 
"It's no use. I don't want to bother."
"You won't. And you need company."
He paused to look at me with a baffled expression, like he would never have expected me to care.
"Alright," he finally surrendered. 
"Okay, " I sighed in relief, "just park that car while I check the store one last time. We'll use mine."
Once finished, I turned the car on and we left in silence. Aloïs didn't utter a single word during the whole ride; I understood and respected that choice. 
When I opened my door, I suddenly remembered I hadn't taken the time to tidy the room before leaving.
"S-sorry," I stuttered, "it's a bit messy…"
But Aloïs wasn't listening and didn't even notice. His eyes were fixed on the wall. 
"Nice clock," he commented.
I just smiled and invited him to settle down. He nearly collapsed on the couch and our first fifteen minutes were just him breathing in silence, eyes closed, trying to pull himself together.
“Pizza?” I offered when he finally seemed able to think clearly. 
“Please,” he answered in a bashful voice after a way too long hesitation. 
From then on, I think we kind of had a good time. Aloïs talked less than usual but looked a bit more relaxed, wrapped up in my softest blanket. The TV was on but mostly to serve as background noise since we were not really watching. A documentary on marine life was broadcasted. 
“Whales scared me when I was a child,” I recalled. “I thought they were big enough to swallow all the water and we would die of thirst. It's ridiculous,” I giggled.
“Oh, not that much. I get the logic. Honestly,” he added, “you’d probably laugh if I told you what scared me as a child.
“What? Tell me! I want to know!” I fidgeted on my seat, excited by curiosity.
Aloïs turned around, looked straight at me and replied in a very serious voice:
“Cashiers.”
I almost choked. He was making fun of me, wasn’t he?
“Is there an innuendo or something?” I smiled. 
“Absolutely not. And it makes the situation kind of ironic.”
“I-indeed. And why did they scare you ?”
“That’s a stupid story,” he whispered and pressed his knees onto his chest. “I was eight when my mother sent me shopping on my own for the first time. It made me anxious: big noises, lots of people. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to say at the checkout so my mother wrote me a note and I learnt it by heart. They may ask you if you want a bag and you’ll say ‘No, thank you.’ Then you’ll say goodbye and wish them a good day.
But things didn’t go as planned. The cashier forgot about the bag and just went, like, ‘Have a good day’, to which I instantly replied ‘No, thank you’. Then I froze and stood still for almost a minute.”
I couldn’t stop smiling. The fact Aloïs was telling this story in a perfectly neutral tone and sounded like a fucking voice-over made it even funnier. 
“And then? What did you do?”
“I cried.”
“Oh my, oh my,” I exclaimed, “what a pure soul!”
“No need to say our mom sent my brother instead the next time. I never wanted to come back again.”
“It was hilarious,” I laughed out loud. 
“Don’t laugh. It’s been seventeen years and I still feel ashamed.”
He sounded a little more light-hearted and it felt nice. Perhaps inviting him was the best thing to do after all.
“Do you think I’m scary?” I teased him, thinking about his jolt the first time we talked.
“I’ve seen worse.”
Aloïs’ eyes shut and silence slowly came back. In no time he had fallen asleep on the couch, still in his suit, his cheek squashed on the armrest. It wasn’t even half past ten yet; but his last concerns probably had been exhausting so I left him alone and went to bed as well. 
The next morning, I got up early to attend school and found him awake, standing in a corner. His hair and shirt were arranged and he was probably waiting for me before leaving.
After a brief exchange of courtesies, I led him to the door. He was staring at me with his usual seriousness. 
“Thanks for the invite,” he said. “I’d never have thought I’d have a good time, but I did.”
I opened then closed my mouth within two seconds, not knowing what to answer. What kind of a compliment was that? It had at least the advantage of being honest.
“How can I thank you?”
I shook my head.
“You don’t have to. Just take care of yourself. And of your brother, of course.”
Aloïs nodded, waved me goodbye then walked away without a word. 
Despite an extremely busy week, I still had him in mind the whole time. Not only because of our pleasant evening, but also out of concern. I had no way to know if his brother was alright and how he was dealing with the situation. Waiting was my only option. 
When our daily meeting finally came, I was reassured to see him on time, perfectly arranged and back to his routine. I almost pounced on him when he greeted me:
"How's your brother?"
"Better," he replied with less emotion than expected. He left this morning. Thanks for caring."
"Great!" I shouted in relief.
Aloïs kept quiet, looking ahead. He appeared a bit nervous but not the anxious way. Kind of… embarrassed? I secretly hoped I hadn’t offended him in any way that night, but I didn’t dare ask what was wrong.
Once the groceries stowed in his backpack, he turned around and expeditiously placed a huge paper bag on the desk. 
“‘re you go,” he muttered, “good evening.”
And he did not leave the store this time: he practically escaped, scampering in a hasty and awkward way. I hadn’t had the time to stop him nor to get a single word.
I was completely stunned and blinked in misunderstanding, until that mysterious bag finally intrigued me. If Aloïs had left it here, it was probably for me to open so I didn’t think any further and just went on. 
What I found inside was the last thing I would have expected. A cuckoo clock. Why the hell would this man leave his fucking clock on my desk? Confused, it took me quite a bit of time to notice the note left on the bottom of the bag.
I made this for you. Thanks for the evening. See you soon.
My eyes opened wide and I instantly blushed. Wow. Wow. He’d made this? For real? For me? Taking a closer look at the clock, I found out it was hand-carved and had hundreds of precise little details. It was astonishing to think Aloïs had crafted such a piece in less than a week, and the efforts it probably had taken touched me as much as the attention. I didn’t even know he had any skills in watchmaking, and it was incredibly sweet despite the note being so distant it sounded like a telegram. 
Just as my amazement was about to dissipate, nine pm rang and the clock struck. When the trap door opened I was expecting a bird to appear but it was not. It was a Cat.
I laughed out loud, out of amusement but also because of a heartwarming joy. I had never received such a singular yet magnificent gift. I absolutely loved it and it was, to be honest, the first time a guy ever thanked me for pizza night with a timepiece. 
When I went home I hung the clock on the wall, right above the couch Aloïs had slept on the week before. It looked perfect and I couldn’t wait to see him again so I could express my gratitude.
But before we met again, in the middle of the week, something distracted me. Or should I say someone. Weird Customer Number Two.
Late in the evening again, a man entered the desert grocery store. I couldn’t have not seen him: partly because there was no one else around here, but mostly because of his looks. His aquamarine sidecut was curled like he’d just got out of bed and he was floating in exceedingly oversized clothes, so colorful it looked like a whole family of parrots was grieving. 
He wandered in the alleys for a few minutes emitting a strange, conflicting aura. Like a ghost who'd have been in agony for centuries but in an extremely cheerful way. 
His shopping didn’t take long and he quickly came up to me. 
“Hi. Do you sell cigarettes?” he asked while putting his articles on the conveyor belt.
I thought it was a joke at first so I just chuckled, but when the man gazed at me in silence for a few seconds, I understood he was serious.
“Sir, this is a grocery store.”
“Oh, true. I forgot it wasn’t food.”
I raised an eyebrow. What had I just heard?
“You’re not supposed to eat cigarettes, I think.”
“Did I just say that out loud?” he moaned in a low, troubled voice. “Forget about it, you didn’t hear anything.”
I nodded and acted like nothing had happened. We were both embarrassed now. I tried to keep my eyes away so he wouldn’t feel judged, but an iterative feeling pushed me to look at him again and again.
His face was oddly familiar. It was just like I had known this guy for a while but it was impossible. I would have remembered a person that… eccentric. Maybe an old classmate with a whole new appearance?
“Excuse me,” I timidly asked, “have I seen you before?”
“Probably on the news,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m a serial killer.”
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I burst out laughing when a large smile spread across his emaciated face. Okay, good one. 
“Seriously,” he resumed, “you must mistake me for my twin brother. He comes here every Thursday.”
“Aloïs!” I screamed like it was evidence.
Of course. Of course it was Aloïs he reminded me of. How could I have been so stupid? Behind his round pink tinted glasses, the man had the exact same odd-coloured eyes and identical facial features. But to be honest, everything else was different. 
“You know his name?” he exclaimed. 
“Sure. We’ve been chatting for months, he came to my place once and he gifted me a clock last week!”
“Dear Lord, it’s a fucking miracle.”
He faked a dramatic, exaggerated faint then slammed his fist on the conveyor. 
“This idiot has a friend and he never told me!”
“We-we’re friends?” my face turned red.
If Aloïs and I were starting to get a bit closer, he had never referred to me as a friend and I had no idea if he counted me as such or not. 
“Come on!” his brother rolled his eyes. “Do you think someone like Al' would trust you enough to stay at your house if you were not his friend? And would he build a clock just for you?”
“You’re right,” I smiled.
This simple statement was so sweet it brightened my day. Aloïs’ brother on the contrary, seemed quite upset that he'd never ever mentioned me. Was it that surprising?
“Don’t hold it against him,” I begged. “He’s not very talkative.”
“Wow, you're good with euphemisms!" he clapped his hands with a sarcastic grin.
We both laughed and when the guy negligently leaned on the cash desk, I realized his manners were the opposite of Aloïs’. It was probably the reason I hadn’t recalled why he looked so familiar. This, and the long aqua hair.
“So you two are twins? I would have never guessed!”
"People rarely do," he shrugged. I'm the Evil One, by the way. Name's Ezra."
"I'm Cat!"
We exchanged a warm smile. Without even knowing why, I already liked this guy. 
"How come both of you always do groceries that late?" I suddenly wondered. "Is that in your genes or…?"
"Aloïs likes quiet places and we both hate people."
"Legit."
I proceeded to the checkout and Ezra just carried all his items in his arms, an approximate and careless way. Seeing how disorganized he was, it was hard to believe he had Marshall blood. 
"I'm glad I finally met you," I admitted when he was about to leave. "Aloïs mentioned you at least twice."
"What a record!" he laughed. "Buuuuut…"
Ezra paused to stare at his rainbow painted nails in a sassy way.
"You want to make him talk?" he asked with an evil smirk.
"Why did you say that like an anime villain?"
"Because I'm a serial killer."
"Oh, of course," I giggled. "And yes, I'd like him to talk a bit more."
"Just ask him how an eighteenth century watch works then," Ezra revealed. "But never do that just before you close. It'd take hours and you may want to have a seat."
I thanked him. Noted. It would probably help, yet an issue remained. 
"When could I ask him then?" I complained in disappointment. "I only see him after half past eight after all."
"Oh! True," Ezra realized. "Well, he'd kill me if I shared his contact without asking, but I can give him yours if you want."
My eyes brightened. "You'd do that?!"
"Of course. I love chaos."
"Oh my God, thanks a lot!" I shouted before giving my phone number.
He wrote it down and blinked at me. 
"One last piece of advice: if you like his company, just tell him."
"What?" I scratched my cheek in confusion. "Is that necessary? I thought it was obvious…"
"Trust me, nothing's ever obvious enough for this guy."
With a cynical smile, Ezra glanced at the clock, took his articles back and waved me goodbye.
"This idiot better tell me everything tonight or Cain is back to town," I heard him mumble when he passed the door. 
If I hadn't had an urgent task to complete, I wouldn't have moved for at least three minutes. I had chatted with this man for less than a quarter of an hour, but it felt like I'd just been blown by a hurricane. 'Guess it was the Marshall Effect. 
What a pair, I told myself. What a fucking pair.
0 notes
luucarii · 6 years
Text
With a Dash of Gin - Ch19
Wow, I actually got my chapter numbers right! And I posted something two days in a row! What madness!
Also I live for an easily embarrassed Kokichi so...
Read on Ao3
The rest of the week seemed to drag. Rantaro went back to his afternoon shifts, fearing the worst should he decide to take anything later than working from noon to six. Midori had seemed to warm up to him a bit and finally dropped the attitude once he had returned to normal. Kokichi and Shuichi were in the midst of moving out of their dorms for the summer, both of them staying in Shuichi’s uncle’s house. He was usually out working so most days the two of them were stuck in the house alone complaining about nothing to do.
With the slow week came a drastic rise in temperature. July usually was the worst month during the summer with frequent heat waves and general discomfort in the muggy evenings. There was always the suggestion (usually from Kaede or Kaito) of going to the beach but both Shuichi and Kokichi made subtle excuses for avoiding the beach when really they just wanted to avoid a sunburn. Despite his reluctance, Kokichi refused to sit the heatwave out. It would be a waste to sit inside during the rare days where the temperature was fair enough to stay outside for more than a few hours. Thankfully for him, Rantaro seemed to be thinking the exact same thing and it didn’t take too long into the week for him to call and invite him to hang out.
“A pool?” Kokichi cocked an eyebrow and from across the room, Shuichi’s eyes shot up. He nodded vigorously and Kokichi snickered. Being stuck inside for nearly a week was getting to Shuichi’s head.
“Yeah, I think my dad set up plans with one of his business partners. There’s a branch of the Togami corporation near the area and they own a house with a huge pool. We’ve been given an invitation to come whenever we like.”
“Was this recent?”
Rantaro’s voice lowered, “yeah. He probably sent his assistant to do it. Maybe just to keep us unaware of what’s happening with him.”
“Ranty…” Kokichi drifted off and Rantaro chuckled on the other end.
“Don’t worry about it. So are you gonna come? I’m taking my sisters and I think they’d love to have you.”
“You’d love to have me too, don’t lie to yourself Ranty! And can I have a plus four? My friends have been bugging me nonstop about going out to the beach and this is one better.”
“Sure, just swing by my house around noon and we’ll go.”
With a giggle, Kokichi hung up and threw his phone onto his bed. Eyes narrowed onto Shuichi and he pointed at him, his free hand on his hip, “Shuichi! Call Kaede, Maki and Kaito! We’re all going to a rich kid’s pool!”
One concern Kokichi had about the whole outing was how twelve people were going to squeeze together in one subway car with dozens of others. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to squishing but he worried how Chizuru and the other young sisters would fare. Though most of his concerns were easily laid to rest as he walked up Rantaro’s street and saw a long car stretching in front of his house. 
Kokichi’s eyes lit up.
Outside were Rantaro and his sisters, all dressed up in loose fitting clothing with bathing suits underneath, holding small bags which Kokichi assumed were filled with clothes and whatever other girly things they needed. At first glance of Kokichi, Chizuru dashed up to him and hugged his leg, cringing somewhat afterward. She looked up at him in confusion and there was no way Kokichi was going to admit how much sunscreen he put on so he would avoid a sunburn.
“Kokichi! You didn’t tell me Rantaro had a freakin limo!” Kaito hissed and for a moment, Kokichi was grateful he had enough of a mind to censor himself in front of the kids.
“It’s not mine.” Rantaro smiled as he looked toward his sisters and nudged his head to the car. They all slid inside, leaving the door open behind them and Kaede excitedly dragged Maki inside. “The corporation is a big one when it comes to appearances. Any guests they have over have to be treated like celebrities. Personally I wouldn’t mind taking the subway but well, I won’t pass up a free ride.”
Kaito narrowed his eyes, “is there AC?”
“Of course.”
“Drinks?”
“If you’re thirsty, yeah.”
“Radio?”
“..It’s still a car?”
Kaito grinned and flung an arm over Kokichi’s shoulder, “you picked a good on Kokichi. He’s a keeper.”
“Just get in the damn car.” Kokichi grumbled and Rantaro laughed. Kaito darted toward the car and slid inside and it wasn’t long until his voice was heard sparking up conversation with Rantaro’s sisters. Rantaro slipped a hand into Kokichi’s and planted a tiny kiss on his forehead before pulling away.
“Why are you all slimy?”
Kokichi glared at him, “like I’d risk getting burned. You’re insane.”
Rantaro shrugged and lightly pushed Kokichi ahead, holding the door open from him and letting him slide inside beside Kaede. He jumped in and closed the door and once the car had darkened, there was a soft voice coming from the speakers.
“The Togami Corporation gladly welcomes your company Mr. Amami and friends.”
“No need for formalities. Rantaro’s fine.” 
“My name is Kirumi Tojo. I shall be taking care of you all today. Please, let me know if I can assist you with anything.”
Kokichi giggled, “faaancy.”
It didn’t take too long for the car to finally start moving and Kokichi was struck with awe throughout the entire drive. The interior was decked out with mini compartments and had a small mini fridge built into the floor. The seats were leather and the entire experience was nothing short of mesmerizing. With Rantaro’s arm lazily draped over his shoulder, Kokichi felt nothing short of being a king.
During the drive, everyone had introduced themselves and it seemed Kazu and Saki had grown interested in Maki. They were seated on her two sides and they continuously would ask her questions about her life. Kokichi worried she’d snap at them knowing how easily annoyed she get but if anything she was a bit bashful, awkwardly telling stories to the girls who looked on in awe.
Eri managed to spark up conversation with Kaede and, being the two optimists out of the whole group, they managed to hit it off very well. Kaede mentioned her interest in music and her love of the piano and Eri had excitedly offered to take pictures of her while she performed. Kokichi could swear he saw them exchanging phone numbers. Sasori and Shuichi had mostly talked about what they were studying in college, Shuichi suddenly growing an interest in the medical field despite his firm determination to be a detective.
Kaito was stuck with Midori and Chizuru though he didn’t mind too much. Kokichi could tell how hard it was for him to watch his mouth around Chizuru — granted having Saki as a sister, Kokichi wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard worse from her. Midori tried to be modest but she had the same big eyed expression as Chizuru usually had.
Upon arrival, Kokichi couldn’t believe it could get any better than it already had. Riding in a limo and being able to go into a rich kid’s pool was more than enough, but seeing the grand scale of what he assumed was one of the many Togami households left him dizzy. The exterior was a near golden bronze and it seemed to sparkle under the harsh sun. He leaned into Rantaro and spoke in slurred awe.
“This is the rich kid’s life…”
“It’s really not that grand after a while. But it’s cute to see you like that.” Rantaro nudged his shoulder and guided him inside the house with Kirumi leading the group. The main hall was huge with marble flooring and a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There was a noticeable echo but all that could be heard was Kokichi and his friends commenting on how utterly astounding it was.
Kirumi led the group to the back porch where a large rectangular pool sparkled. Pool chairs were set up around the perimeter with a few umbrellas shadowing over them. A few more maids and butlers were placed around the outside, tidying up the area and suddenly straightened themselves when Kirumi stepped in the center  Kirumi outstretched a hand to show off the outside and smiled as she bowed, and with that small soft tone of voice, she spoke.
“We hope you enjoy your stay.”
On that note, Saki let out a squeal and immediately rushed to claim a chair, flinging her bag onto it. Midori took the one beside her and it didn’t take long for most of the chairs on the left side to be claimed by the girls. The four boys took the other side and couldn’t help feeling a bit overwhelmed by the difference in number between girls and boys. The boys (specifically Kaito) made sure to mind their eyes when the likes of Kaede and Maki were in the midst of taking off their clothes and adjusting to the feeling of wearing a swimsuit. Kaede’s was modest, a simple frilly pale pink two piece and Maki had a red one piece that she had to borrow from her. The two girls embarrassingly tried to help the sisters adjust their swimsuits but Kokichi wouldn’t ignore the way Eri would stare at the girls in admiration.
Kokichi shrugged it off and turned to face the guys. Shuichi was far too embarrassed to even think of lifting up his shirt and it only took Kaito threatening to push him into the pool for him to slip off the thin fabric. Kaito’s were a weird red color for some reason and he had complained that since Shuichi had called him last minute, all his other swimwear had been thrown in the laundry already. The one who surprised him the most, for obvious reasons, was Rantaro and Kokichi felt the heat rushing to his cheeks the minute Rantaro slipped his shirt off. Wearing dark blue swim trunks with a thin lime green outline, Kokichi eyed how despite the fact he was thin, Rantaro had garnered quite a bit of muscle. His build wasn’t Kaito level or anything but he was damn near impressive when put against the other guys. Kokichi gulped when he realized he was the only one who hadn’t stripped yet and suddenly felt a bit self-conscious.
“You alright?” Rantaro questioned as he worked on taking out the piercings in his ears.
“Of course I am, Ranty! How couldn’t I be?”
“You haven’t taken your shirt off yet. I honestly believed you’d be the first to jump in the minute we got here.”
That award went to Kazu, followed by Saki. The two girls came up for air and giggled, splashing each other with water before Kaede joined in. Eri kept dry for the first few minutes, taking a personal tour of the outside with her camera to take picture of the house and the flowers in the garden. Kaito rushed across the other side and pushed Maki in the pool while she was in the midst of pulling up her hair. With a typical Maki Stare, she reached for his leg and dragged him in. Midori decided she’d prioritize tanning over anything and Sasori decided to relax with her to keep her company. Shuichi sat at the edge of the pool with a silent Chizuru as they dipped their feet into water and sighed to themselves. Shuichi made sure he looked back a few time to catch if Kokichi would be devilish enough to push him in but was still surprised when Kokichi eventually did.
“I didn’t know Ranty was secretly a pervert.” Kokichi narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, clicking his tongue.
“Call me whatever you want but I’m dragging you in this pool sooner or later. Better to be prepared now.” Rantaro’s eyes glinted teasingly and Kokichi grumbled. 
“Rantaro, stop teasing the poor kid and get in! I want to take a few pictures!” Eri hissed as she readied her camera, already in the process of snapping pictures of Saki and Kazu doing handstands underwater. 
“Kid!? I’m older than you!” Kokichi snapped and he glared at Maki in the pool who was chuckling to herself. Before Kokichi could even echo out a sigh, he felt himself pulled into a hug and the ground under him disappeared. With Rantaro’s laugh in his ears, the two boys hit the water with a splash, enough scare Kazu and Saki into swimming to the surface.
When his head popped above the water, Kokichi coughed up a bit of water and frowned at the way his hair stuck to his face. Rantaro appeared behind him and wrapped his arms around Kokichi’s shoulders, kissing the other’s cheek playfully and Kokichi finally broke into a laugh.
“What the hell Ranty?”
“I told you I was getting you in here.” Rantaro’s head peered off to the side, “did you get it Eri?”
“Yep! Perfect! His face was so cute!” Eri giggled behind her camera.
“Ranty ruined my favorite shirt. Meanie.” Kokichi pouted and turned his head away from him.
“I’ll let you borrow mine.” Kokichi jumped when he felt Rantaro’s soft fingers pulled up the helm of his shirt and he wanted to die when he caught Kaito’s eyes narrowing in that sort of lewd glance.
“Aww, I think Kokichi has a sunburn already!” Saki teased and Kazu snickered behind her.
Once the shirt was finally pulled over his head (which Kokichi could swear took way longer than needed) and thrown over to his pool chair, Kokichi made his escape, swimming over to where Chizuru was sitting. He knew Rantaro didn’t mean anything by it beside maybe a light bit of teasing but his head reeled nonetheless.
“I didn’t know Kokichi was easily embarrassed. It’s kinda cute.” Kaede smiled.
“Shuichi’s the same way too. You should see him when I start teasing him about you.” Kokichi snickered and Shuichi, who had just poked his head up from underwater, looked around the pool in confusion.
“Wha?” 
Kokichi swam over to his roommate and flung an arm over his shoulder, “don’t worry about it, buddy!”
“Why am I suddenly scared?”
“Come on everyone! All together!” Eri cheered. Upon her request, before the drive home she wanted Kirumi to take a group photo of everyone. Eri took charge on setting everyone up, making sure the short ones were at the bottom and the taller ones near the top and it ended up with a near perfect setup of four rows of three. Kazu, Chizuru and Saki took the bottom, Kokichi, Midori and Shuichi the second row, Rantaro, Maki and Kaede the middle row and finally Sasori, Kaito and Eri at the top. Eri encouraged everyone to do more than just a plain smile and before the camera had flashed, she made sure she pulled Kaede into a tight embrace under her. The picture ended up with Sasori grinning at Kaito who was ruffling Maki’s wet hair, Rantaro leaning down to kiss Kokichi’s head, Maki looking up at Kaito with a glare, Kaede laughing while reaching a hand down to grab Shuichi’s, Midori holding Chizuru’s shoulders and Kazu and Saki bursting out into harsh laughter.
When Kirumi had handed Eri her camera back, the blonde girl squealed in excitement and her eyes softened at the sight. “I’ll make sure to print out a copy for everyone. So we never forget the fun we had today!”
“Oh! And don’t forget to send the pictures you took of me Eri!” Kaede giggled as she smiled and Eri smiled with her.
“Of course Kaede!”
“Aww, you guys got close! How cute!” Kokichi teased and grinned when Eri’s face warmed up. Kaede nodded and stood proudly next to Eri, grabbing her hand and holding it up in the air. Eri chuckled sheepishly and gulped, looking over at Kaede with timid eyes.
“Trust me, this won’t be the last bit of teasing she gets about that.” Rantaro whispered with a laugh in Kokichi’s ear and pointed to the way Saki and Kazu were whispering to each other. For a moment, Kokichi felt a bit bad that her sisters would most likely annoy her late into the night with what seemed to be a tiny crush on Kaede but despite her embarrassment, she didn’t seem to mind too much.
“Alright guys, let’s head out!” Kokichi announced, grabbing Rantaro’s hand and leading the group. They raced past Kirumi and out to the front of the house where the limo was parked, the engine quietly grumbling. As they slid inside, Kokichi leaped into Rantaro’s lap and flung an arm around his neck.
“You should let me sleepover tonight.” He chuckled and Rantaro raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not opposed to it but what do you have up your sleeve?”
Kokichi gasped and held his chest, “Ranty is a pervert. You were thinking naughty thoughts weren’t you?”
“What do you—?”
“Jeez, I’m not some hormonal kid who wants sex all the time Ranty!”
“But we haven’t even—“
“But you were thinking that when I asked to sleepover.”
“I…” Rantaro drifted off, face turning a light shade of pink and Kokichi laughed.
“Just teasing Ranty. Seriously though, let me sleepover?”
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ohbuckie · 3 years
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FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT II
college!bucky x fem!reader (first part isn’t a necessary read prior to this one) summary: bucky fucks you in the back of his car at a drive-in. warnings: smut, semi public sex, implication that reader has hair long enough to pull word count: 2k masterlist
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(pls dm me for credit or removal of this gif)
Your hand is on Bucky’s thigh.
It’s customary for the boyfriend’s right hand to be on the girlfriend’s left thigh, but his only real hand is occupied by the steering wheel, and he can’t hold the wheel with only his prosthetic. So, you fill the role, fingers tapping against the inside of his muscular right leg.
He looks pretty when he drives—with his arm outstretched to display his sculpted muscles. His hair is fluffy and shiny and soft, and his lips confidently mouth the lyrics to the songs that play through the car. He was wearing sunglasses before the sun disappeared below the horizon, and they’re now atop his head, holding his hair away from his forehead, with the exception of a stubborn strand that dangles between his eyebrows.
You stare down at Bucky’s phone, held by your free hand, adding music to his Spotify queue. Just enough to bring you to where you’re going. “How much longer?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe ten minutes.”
It takes twelve.
He pulls the car between two posts in the very center of the dirt lot, parking it and unlocking the doors so that you can hop out. While he sits in the front and tunes the radio to the channel indicated on the slip of paper that the teenage girl at the front booth gave you, you spread out the plush blankets and soft pillows, making the trunk—and backseat, with all of the seats down—mostly habitable, at least for a few hours. Pillows are pushed against the backs of the front seats, a small blanket covering the area beneath you, leaving the comforter that he brought from his bed against the side to be put over your laps once you’re both ready to sit.
It’s already dark, and the cold air bites at your nose, nips at your fingertips. Bucky turns the headlights off and climbs over the center console, laying over the setup you’ve created. You lift yourself into the trunk, kicking off your shoes onto the ground beside the car, settling beside him. He looks at his phone for the time, and announces that the movie won’t start for another ten minutes.
He says it with a suggestive smirk and a hand on your waist, and you roll your eyes playfully just before he captures your lips with his. You lay on your back with your arms around his neck as he hovers over you, leaning on one elbow and using his other arm to hold you close to himself. Your fingers twirl around the thick hair at the back of his head, dark brown and intentionally unkempt.
“I’m not doing this during the movie, you know.” You breathe against him, and he pulls away.
“Why not?”
“We paid thirty dollars to get in here. We can shove our tongues down each others’ throats at home.”
“Then we should probably get it all out now.” He doesn’t wait for a response before kissing you again, hand slowly trailing down your back to grab your ass. The old-timey drive-in commercials play in the background of the hot, wet kisses that he delivers to your mouth, and your jaw, and your throat. He sucks a mark into the side of your neck, most definitely too high to cover with the collars on any of the shirts that you own.
The screen goes black suddenly and the opening sequence starts; a rumbling storm, birds chirping, Echo and the Bunnymen. He sighs, pecking your lips a last time and letting you shift to get more comfortable. For you, that means pushing your back against his chest and pulling the thick blanket over the two of you, putting your hand over his, which rests on your waist.
“All good?”
“Mm-hmm.” You put your arm under your head for a better angle of the big screen. He kisses the crown of your head sweetly.
It doesn’t take long for him to start fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie. He pulls at the fabric, twists it, inches his fingers beneath it. You squirm in response to his cold touch, and feel him smile against your shoulder, soon finding your neck with his lips.
His fingers trail down your stomach and nestle underneath the waistband of your sweatpants—his sweatpants, actually—stopping to ask for permission.
You nod, but he makes a gentle demand. “Words, sweetheart.” “Do whatever you want.” You say softly, almost shyly.
His hand slides down your pants, teasing you over your panties. He presses his middle finger against your core, making you grind against him for more friction. With pressure on your clothed clit, he kisses down your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His lips are dry from the chilly air, but his kisses are delicate.
He removes his hand and taps your lower lip with two of his thick fingers. You take them in your mouth, tongue slithering around them, coating them with saliva to help him out. They nearly touch the back of your throat when your lips reach the knuckle, and you pull off slowly when they’ve been properly lubricated.
He pushes his hand down the front of your underwear, finally making contact with your skin. His fingers are warm now, from being between your legs as well as in your mouth, and you’re grateful not to be shivering anymore. He rolls your clit between his fingers, moving down to your entrance to spread around your wetness, which is already abundant.
You inhale sharply when a fingertip probes you, slipping in carefully and letting you accommodate. “Bucky.”
“Gotta be quiet.” He reminds you, mouth against the shell of your ear.
“I know.” You squeak.
“Shut up, then.”
The words go straight to your center, making you tighten around him and swallow hard. He gives a couple of slow pumps. “Another?”
“Mm-hmm.” You whine, and he takes his hand out for a moment, pulling it from your pants. He shoves it in again, down the back this time, and stretches you around two of his fingers. You bring your hand to your mouth, biting on your sleeve to keep quiet. “Fuck.”
He moves his hand with purpose—which is, of course, to make you cum—while the giant screen in front of you plays a movie you’ve both seen before. You can hear the words in your head before the actors even say them: Oh, please, tell me, Elizabeth, how exactly does one suck a fuck? You want me to tell you? Please, tell me.
It takes your mind off of the fingers breaching your entrance; helps you last at least a little bit longer. He pushes and pulls, twists and curls, while you writhe beside him, trying desperately not to make any noise.
It makes an obscene noise—a wet slurp that serves as evidence of how quickly he can drive you crazy. “You’re so fucking wet.” He mutters against your cheek.
You swallow a moan, whining somewhat loudly. “Bucky.”
“Yeah?”
“Please fuck me.”
“You don’t wanna cum first?”
You shake your head. “I need you.”
He pulls his fingers out slowly, making sure you’re looking behind your shoulder at him when he sucks your taste off of them, releasing them from his mouth with a pop. He gets up on his knees, reaching to close the trunk for at least a little bit of privacy.
He tells you to get on your stomach in front of him, and he shoves a pillow beneath your pelvis to prop your hips up. With two hands, he yanks your pants and underwear down and over your ass, exposing you to him. You point your ass upwards, giving him a view of your wetness.
You hear rustling, and assume it’s him shoving his pants down his thighs. A crinkle and a rip alert you to the opening of a condom.
“You seriously had a condom in your pocket this whole time?”
“Of course I did.”
“You’re such a tool.”
“Yup.”
He spreads your ass and spits on your pussy, putting his painfully hard cock against your entrance. He pushes into you, bottoming out quickly and holding onto the driver’s seat for leverage.
“Fuck.” He whispers.
“Shit, Buck.”
He pulls his hips back, far enough so the head of his cock threatens to slip out, before slamming forward again. You slap a hand over your own mouth, feeling him find his rhythm.
It’s safe to assume that everyone around you knows what you’re doing. With the trunk closed and the inside lights off, they can’t see anything, but the SUV wobbles on its suspension in the loose dirt and alerts everyone of your activities. You try to keep quiet, because nobody needs further confirmation that you’re being had in the trunk.
This position makes it easier for him to hit all the right spots—more specifically, the one deep inside of you that makes your legs shake and your toes curl. The stretch you feel with every thrust stings only a little bit, but doesn’t hurt. You always need a minute to get used to him, anyway.
You moan quietly, lips sealed, and arch your back so that you’re pushing back into him.
“You’re so tight like this.” He says, and rests his metal hand on your lower back.
“Bucky-y.” You whine, unable to conceptualize any other words.
“Lift up your hips up for me.” He requests. “On your knees.”
You do as he asks, bracing your hands on the floor in front of you when you rise to your knees. He puts a foot up to balance himself after he removes his hand from the seat and grabs hold of you, using your hips like handles to hold onto while he slams into you barbarically.
He pulls you backwards with every thrust, but your clothes—still covering as much as possible, since it’s cold and this was meant to be a quickie—muffle the sound of you hitting against each other. It’s only a soft clapping; much more innocent than the usual slapping of damp skin that’s shared between you.
You hear his necklace jingle with every movement—a ball chain with a pendant on it that reads your first name, hammered crookedly into a circle of aluminum, letter by letter, with a small mallet and metal stamps. It hits his clothed chest and rings like a bell as a sort of reminder to you that it’s him who’s making you feel this good.
You feel him tangle his flesh fingers in the hair close to your scalp, balling up his fist and tugging. You moan, and he allows himself to do the same, all the while holding your head back at an uncomfortable angle.
“I’m close.” He mumbles, releasing your hair suddenly and quickly finding your clit. He briefly pulls away and spits on his fingers, pressing against you again, this time letting his saliva cover you. He rolls the sensitive part between his fingers, and soon starts tracing circles. They’re small, and fairly gentle, at first, but he quickly heats things up. He adds more pressure, and increases the size of the circles that he draws like his life depends on it.
Your breathy moans that you try hopelessly to conceal grow louder with every passing second, and you’re soon being dropped over the edge. Your head drops between your shoulder while you cum, and you clench around him unwillingly, triggering his own release. His hips falter and he spills into the condom, staying inside of you until he’s milked dry.
When he’s ready, he pulls out, ties up the condom, tosses it in the bag of trash that he keeps dangling from the shifter in the front seat. He pulls your pants back over your ass, and does the same to his own, waiting for you to maneuver yourself around to face him so he can kiss you.
It’s much gentler than the sex was, and his pink mouth seems to melt against yours while he holds your face, breath fanning over your cheek. You pull away, glancing at the foggy windows, dripping with evidence of your actions.
“Let’s get outta here.”
“Is that you asking for round two?”
“Uh-huh.” He smiles. “Just not in the car. My knees hurt.”
“Tell me about it.”
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symphonicmetal101 · 3 years
Text
Over-Tired OM Boys HCs
Here's the initial thing that got me started thinkin bout the boys, but here ya go-
Lucifer
- this man, once he hits overtired, is extremely gullible, which is why he locks himself in his office until hes done what needs to be done
- also cannot keep a train of thought for more than 20 seconds and it drives him nuts
- and then he loses his focus even more because he's upset
- you tried knocking on the door once, and told him when you closed your eyes, you couldnt see and needed to go to the doctor
- man went from frustrated to concerned in a heartbeat, only after opening the door realizing how foolish he had just come across
- but now the door was open and you had access to him, and reluctantly he let you drag him to bed
- Will deny it ever happened, and if you bring it up, expect a punishment.
- Though he is grateful you made him rest so he would not become the laughingstock of his brothers
Mammon
- over tired bby will ramble until he forgot what he was talking about and space out for a solid ten seconds before snapping back
- it doesnt matter if you're listening intently or only half listening, he makes no sense what so ever.
- If you can record him without him noticing you (which is easy to do in this state) and play it back once he's rested he's either facepalming and blushy for the nonsense he spewed or he managed to pick out what he may have been trying to say and gets super excited, going off on another more understandable tangent.
- Gaming is a priority
Levi
- Sleeping is not
- Levi usually ends up just tired, not wired but dear lord when he does-
- All that energy and passion he pours into the way he speaks about anime and manga?
- Its physical now...oh and hes slightly more extroverted
- Though its a rare sight, over tired Levi works out and rambles about whatever it was that made him stay up that long, and hes doing it all in your room
Satan
- Over tired Satan is a rare sight, though it happens often, as he holes up in his room
- He gets an impulse to clean, and will tidy and clean and organize his books, though it never lasts
- and theres no escape, he will start crying if he feels you arent paying attention or if you're about to leave
- Depending on who you are, he either becomes 10000000% testier, or hes a giggly mess, there is no in between
Asmo
- Finds everything funny, but will get pouty if it came from someone he doesnt really like
- Over tired Asmo is rare, likely the rarest of all the boys to see, save for Barbatos
- but he is a chaotic little fucker
- dear god
- He will raid the fridge and pantry worse than Beel, specifically when hes on a diet-
- Then MC you're either in for one hell of a story from Asmo, most of them his not-so-proud drunk moments that he never talks about for that reason but he cant stop himself-
-his laugh sounds even more high pitched than normal, and a little maniacal, and he finds everything he says hilarious
- you will go on an adventure probably
Beel
- spaces out randomly, and also cries easily, dont point this put to him and say yes to his adventures, he'll change his mind a thousand times on the way- just go with it
- overtired Beel happens quite a bit, usually after the victory of a game and the adrenaline starts to wear off- and then he still has stuff to do
- but instead of "oh" and maybe a small laugh when he realizes what happened its more ".....oh" and then he looks like he's having an existential crisis
- you will have to physically lead him to bed after that, he's too busy thinking and slowly eating whatever is in his hand
- he snacks to keep himself awake, and poor himbo man is even more gullible than usual
- will want to cuddle, but wont ask when hes like this
Belphie
- out like a bulb immediately
- The Avatar of Sloth? Over tired? yes it happens unfortunately-
- He gets even grumpier than usual because he can’t sleep
- Then at night its just restless tossing and turning
- yes even the seemingly flawless butler gets overtired, but opposite of Asmo, he is far better at concealing it
- Usually happens when he intentionally sleeps through important meetings and days for Lucifer back to back to back
- It’s another excuse to hold you though, so he might make himself over tired more often
Barbatos
- You will see him stifle yawns
- And when given instructions, his eyes widen slightly with concentration as he whispers the instructions over and over under his breath so nobody can hear, but its clear his lips are moving
- he cannot be bribed
- he can be intimidated though, and how you ask?
- “threaten” to go tell Beel or Dia because you know full well if they were asked, they would carry Barb back to his quarters if you can’t do so on your own-
- no he will not sleep
- Usually that’s enough to convince him, but you have to stay near to make sure he doesn’t leave until he’s well-rested, otherwise he’ll leave as soon as possible and try to get back to work
- buuuut if you’re “on guard” or in bed with him- well he might have a few extra minutes or hours to spend with you
Diavolo
- overtired Diavolo is rather rare, as Barbatos is very strict with the prince's schedule
- Still though if Diavolo truly wants to keep going...all Barb can do is prepare for the future
- Which uh...just means being able to drag the prince to his quarters
- If you thought he was lively before, being overtired is kinda like giving caffiene to a squirrel for him
- Until he suddenly crashes....which, depending on how you like his company, can be unfortunate as his kick can last for hours
Simeon
- Simeon goes into zombie mode when he's overtired
- He hates to admit it, but it tales every oumce of strength to not fall asleep in the middle of classes
- Not that Luke would let him
- He's a little dazy, a little slow, but even just a power nap gets the angel going again
Luke
- Babie boy, don't stay up with the big kids-
- an overtired ten year old follows a certain progression
- grumpy, denial in need of sleep, chatterbox, chatterbox, chatterbox, chatt- oh he fell asleep in the middle of his sentence
- will not acknowledge anything in the morning, even as he walks out of his bedroom instead of the random place he slept, instead carrying on the conversation he left half finished the night before
Solomon
- hah
- he has spells
- who needs sleep?
- bastard also pushes himself too far, but disguises it with more ease than anyone else, at least until its just the two of you
- He tends to run his hand through his hair more often, fidgets more
- hes a little jumpy too, so continue with caution if you dont want to be turned into a frog-
Anyways, I know its been a hot minute since I posted anything really uh...substantial? I guess this will have to do?? I'm going to be travelling for a bit, so I apologize for slow updates, also dont have the patience to make a queue
Thank y'all for supporting me anyways, it means a lot!! Keep an eye out for the next OC Hunger Games~
Love ya!!
Masterlist
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chuckbass-love · 4 years
Note
Johnny smut#4
Hello lovely anon. Thank you so much for this request, again, i’m sorry for the long wait but i didn’t want to write this when i didn’t have much motivation and then have it turn out any less than perfect. I hope it’s worth the wait for you and that you enjoy it.
Also a lil A/N for everyone: To everyone who has requested, i’m gonna get back on it and try and get at least 2 or 3 out per week if possible. I lost motivation for a hot minute but i’m back. I love you all so much. Also, part 7 to only love can hurt like this will be up sometime in the next week or so. I’m still working on it but i already can’t wait for you all to read.
Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.
Pairing: Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader
Prompt #4: “You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught”
Warning: Smut, explicit content, sexual intercourse, hair pulling, choking, mouth covering and swearing. 18+
Word Count: 5,160
GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @mcustarks go check them out❤️
Best Friends Brother
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As your eyes glance around the beautiful garden filled with white chairs either side of the aisle with flower arrangements all the way to the alter. You can’t help but feel utterly enchanted by the scene, it’s stunning. However, you’re in the wrong place right now, Sue specifically asked you to meet her out back to help her get ready but as soon as you turnaround to head there, you bump into Johnny of all people.
To put it simply, Johnny isn’t exactly your favourite person and you’re not his either. Well, that’s a lie. When around others you don’t get along, you don’t hate each other you just don’t really have much to say since he’s always so cocky and you’re his older sisters best friend. But behind closed doors, the sexual chemistry is off the charts and you’ve spent too many nights tangled up in his sheets to count on two hands.
No one knows about your late night rendezvous though, especially Sue. And she can never find out. It would hurt her. You’re her best friend and Johnny is her little brother. So it’s a secret and it will always remain one.
“Wow” his lips curl up into a genuine smile as his eyes take in your figure in the floor length  dark purple bridesmaid dress you have on “you look, great” he says as he tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, clearly unable to stop those dirty thoughts running wild in his head.
“Just great?” you ask, brow raising slightly before you chuckle and move to walk past him but he grabs your arm just in time to stop you from going anywhere “not just great, but gorgeous. In fact if this wasn’t my sisters wedding then i’d say you were the best looking one here” he turns his head in your direction, his dreamy blue eyes meeting yours, both filled with lust and need. But you can’t do this here. Today is Sue and Reed’s day.
“Johnny” you whisper lazily, the feel of his skin on yours makes you shiver with desire for him to fill you up, kiss you and make you cum around his cock multiple times but that will have to wait. You really need to snap out of this. So you do, you blink and look back up at him before slowly pulling away from “Sue needs me now, i have to go” and just like that he’s behind you, watching as you walk away. Mostly just to watch the way your ass moves in that dress. You can’t say you blame him though, your ass does look good.
The second you step foot indoors you hear Sue moaning about anything and everything to who sounds like Alicia.
“Your saviour is here” you announce and Sue turns around, beaming at you and you can’t help but stare at her. She looks absolutely breathtaking and her dress is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. She looks just like a princess.  Alicia then leaves to go and check on Ben, leaving you two to it.
“Sue, you look amazing” tears brim in your eyes, drowning out your vision, she spots it immediately, rushing to hand you a tissue “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup”
You take it from her, dabbing underneath your eyes before taking the eyeliner from her to re do what couldn’t be saved in time “i can’t believe you’re finally getting your big day” you finish zipping up her dress before helping her out with her veil.
“Well i’ve waited long enough” she laughs as you finish up and you turn her round so she can look at herself in the mirror.
“Now, i just need to finish my make-up. Help a girl out?”
You don’t even bother to respond, instead you start helping, picking up her bag of products. Her foundation is done so it’s just her eye makeup and lipstick that’s left to do. You go with a nice subtle smokey eye with a little silver glitter on top. Then to finish it off you apply some nude lip gloss to her lips before leaving her to do her own mascara, you would hate to mess it up after all.
“Oh i forgot to check with you, is Johnny outside?”
Even the mention of his name has an obvious effect on your body and it’s something you’ve never been able to control but instead of letting it show, you put your poker face on, clearing your throat and mumbling a quick “yes” and thank god she doesn’t catch on or say anything. You must have hid it well.
“Right, ladies the guests are arriving now and Reed is helping them all to their seats so are you ready?” Johnny pokes his head into the room and Sue nods, letting out a deep breath.
He glances at you before Sue walks over to him to make their way to the other room in which she’s going to be leaving out of to walk down the aisle, leaving you standing there sighing.
Guess it’s time for you to take your own place too. You follow closely behind them and then you and Alicia wait for your queue to go, she goes first, then you. Flowers in hand, smiling around at all of the guests, every one of them dressed up in bright colours, wedding hats galore. And as you take your place next to Alicia at the side of the alter, you watch your best friend walk down the aisle with pride. She means the world to you and if there’s one person who’s the most deserving of happiness, it’s her.
Reed wipes away tears as she stands next to him and you feel your heart melting, more tears forming. Johnny watches you from across the way, wiping your own tears of joy before his focus shifts to the vows.
Sometimes he gets urges to ask you out on a date but as quickly as those urges form, they fade. There’s not a chance in hell of you saying yes to him and he knows it. He’s just a hookup and he’s no stranger to half platonic relationships. He’s never particularly been one for commitment anyway but something about you changes his mind. Since you’ve been Sue’s best friend for god knows how long now, he’s watched many guys come and go in and out of your life. He’s watched and even listened to the many times Sue has held you whilst you cried and to tell the truth, he’s never been able to fathom why anyone would ever want to hurt you. Why anyone would ever cheat or leave you. He always had the biggest crush on you and it’s never left. 
Hence why one day he made a move, giving you his best cheesy pick up line at a party Sue threw one weekend. But you ignored him, it was only 2 hours into the party and you weren’t drunk enough to be taking him seriously. However, multiple drinks and shots later, he tried his luck again, and he hit the jackpot. You took him up on his offer. Whilst Sue was in the other room trying to clean up after her guests, you were in Johnny’s room, stripping off in-between heated open mouthed kisses.
It’s pretty obvious where that lead and the next day, you were so mad at yourself for letting it get that far. You cursed alcohol and your stupid brain as you quickly re dressed, repulsed at yourself and your actions. That’s when Johnny shot up, trying his best to make you stay, shutting the door as you tried to open it and standing in the way. You made eye contact with the player and he kissed you. You can’t recall anything else other than feeling captivated by him. His lips moved in sync with yours like they were always made to touch and you couldn’t control the way your body yearned for more.
And the rest is history. Since then you’ve been late night texting and meeting up whenever you could to hook up. Johnny eventually got his own apartment too which only lead to more often than not, the pair of you fucking like rabbits.
It hasn’t just been hookups though, as much as you’d love to lie and pretend that it doesn’t mean a thing, it does. You like Johnny, of course you do. He’s actually the only guy that’s ever been able to make you cum. The only guy who isn’t completely selfish in bed. He makes it all about you, every dam time and you feel torn when it comes to him. A huge part of you knows the two of you feel something deeper and more than just sex. You feel something more intimate. It’s definitely not love but it could be, one day.
Before you know it, you’re ripped from your Johnny themed thoughts as everyone starts cheering and clapping. You join in, watching Reed kiss Sue passionately before the two of them walk back up the aisle. You, Alicia, Johnny and Ben all follow behind with the guests joining in.
The reception is just inside and as soon as you all enter, the music begins. The real old school music. You’re The One That I Want from Grease. The DJ really has a way of luring everyone onto the dance floor right away. Usually at weddings, everyone sits down drinking and chilling before the buffet food comes out but not this wedding.
Sue grabs your hand and the two of you re enact the classic Sandy and Danny scene, overly dramatic though of course and unbeknownst to you, Johnny is watching your every move, unable to stop himself grinning like a cheshire cat. It’s very clear you’re having the time of your life and all he wants is to be able to dance with you.
Once the song is over, you walk around the room to look for the table that you’re going to be sitting at until you hear “over here” and you know that voice anywhere. You turn around to find Johnny sat down, a large glass of wine next to his beer. He ordered for you? Why?
“You’re next to me, hope that’s okay” he stands up, helping you into your chair and tucking it in for you before taking his seat again and sliding the glass of wine to you.
“White wine is still your favourite, right?” nerves fill his voice as he keeps his eyes locked on you “yes, it is. You remembered. Thank you” you waste no time in taking a big gulp of it, you can practically feel yourself getting aroused just by sitting next to the man and to think you’re going to have to deal with it the whole day is torture.
You press your thighs together, trying your hardest to stop whatever is happening in its tracks.
“You not going to dance some more?” he asks, sitting back in his chair, one arm draped round the back of yours “maybe in a minute, i’m still recovering from the first one” you giggle nervously, scared of being seen with him. Sure, you were put with him by Sue herself but what if your farce comes apart now, after all, he is being nice to you and the resting bitch face is missing instead a happy expression has taken its place.
Maybe no one will notice since it’s Sue’s big day, that could be the excuse you use if anyone says anything but then again, why should you care to make excuses? If you enjoy his company that shouldn’t be an issue. Maybe Sue won’t care. She’s always wanted Johnny to settle down with someone nice and you’re nice, right? She’s also wanted you to find someone too. But her best friend and brother getting together probably isn’t what she had in mind.
The song Crazy In Love by Beyonce comes on and Sue practically summons you to the dance floor, so you down the rest of your wine before you rush over to join her. Skipping the regular moves, you and Sue both start dancing like it’s just the two of you. No move off limits as you both grind your hips in circles, shaking your asses and laughing your heads off. She is the only person in this world that can make you laugh like that and you feel incredibly lucky to have her and to be here for her big day.
As your moves get more risqué you catch Johnny adjusting his cock in his dress trousers before drinking more of his beer.
The tension is building within you and you’ve never had to fight temptation so much in the whole year that you two have been doing this. You’re usually very good at waiting and making him wait for it but right now, it’s too hard. The next song that comes on is Check On It by Beyonce, again.
The more of the song that you dance to, you notice the lyrics surprisingly match your situation and a wave of confidence drenches you like rain.
If you got it flaunt it, boy I know you want it While I turn around you watch me check up on it Oh you watchin me shake it, I see it in ya face Ya can't take it, it's blazin’, you watch me in amazement
You continue to show off your best assets, making sure you tease and wind him up more before you make any kind of move which is what you usually do. Any time the two of you fool around, you make him wait and earn it, but it’s one of many reasons why he loves hooking up with you, you’re not easy, you know your worth and you’re 100% worth the wait.
The song finishes leaving yourself and Sue breathless almost. Reed stalks closer, handing his bride a drink and you head over to the bar to get another for yourself before sitting back down again. The buffet will be available soon and you’re desperate for something to eat. Peckish isn’t the word.
“Hello again” Johnny beams and you sip some more wine, a rather big sip yet again before you respond “hello. Are you gonna sit here the whole night?” you question with genuine curiosity, he only really danced a little when the Grease song was on but that’s about it and you aren’t oblivious to the other women checking him out.
“No i intend to dance i just need to be drunk enough for it first”
“I see, maybe then one of those lovely ladies will get a chance to dance with you” you say, observing one in particular who has been staring non stop.
“Please, i’d rather dance with you”
Your heart skips a beat and dare you say it, your vagina develops one. He’s such a sweet talker.
“You looked good out there, y’know” he motions towards the dance floor as if you didn’t already clock on to what he meant and you can’t deny the way your cheeks start to heat up as you thank him shyly.
That’s when he leans closer to your ear, his arm round the back of your chair again as he rasps “and that ass of yours in this dress, baby you got me so hard” his breath fans your neck as he returns to his normal sitting position but he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches at the dirty comment. He knows all too well the effect he has on you and you know the effect you have on him.
In the past all it’s taken for him is for you to bite your lip and stare him down for him to get hard before. You’re his weakness.
Before you can even go to respond to him though, he clears his throat, tapping away on his phone as he stands up “anyway, if you’ll excuse me, nature calls” he slips his phone back into his pocket, walking away towards the toilets which just so happens to be right behind the DJ.
Your phone buzzes and you check to see a message from him ‘You coming?’ the text reads.
And that alone is enough for you to choke on your own saliva. You quickly sip your drink before standing up yourself and making your way over to the mens toilets. Thank God no one saw you.
“Johnny” you whisper yell until one of the cubicle doors opens, the bigger one at the end. He winks at you as he appears in the doorway and you strut over to him, allowing him to pull you in and lock the door. Your body is flush against his as he starts to kiss your collarbone first. If Johnny is anything it’s a man who loves to savour the moment. He hates quickies and loves to take his time with you.
You’re obviously not the first woman to fall victim to his touch but you’re the only one right now and you’re glad that he’s had experience, it’s clearly made him all the more sensational  in the bedroom.
“Oh” you throw your head back on a quiet moan, hoping not to be too loud despite music blasting outside making it impossible for anyone to hear you.
“Every time you dance, you drive me crazy. Shaking that perfect ass of yours in this dress, making me want you so bad” his lips hover over your sweet spot, his breath fanning it just like it did before.
You wrap your arms loosely round his neck as your back arches and his lips attack your neck like a man possessed, everything about this moment should feel wrong and yet it feels so right. The thought crosses your mind that everyone is out there dancing and most likely eating now all while Johnny is playing with your dress, lifting it up to reveal the new panties that you brought for today. Purple lace to match your dress.
“Oh baby” he groans, tugging on his bottom lip at the sight as his fingers wonder down and slip inside. His cold palm cups your sex making you shiver in surprise before he makes you forget all about it by spinning you around so that you’re pressed against the wall. Caged in by his muscular body as he towers over you.
He presses a chaste kiss to the back of your neck and heat starts to rise to your cheeks, you can’t contain the flustered feeling that fills you. He’s always had a way of being so dominant and stealing all control from you in an instant, since you’re so used to the roles being reversed in your life, he was more than into changing that. And to tell the truth, it’s one of the many reasons that you keep coming back. He pushes you out of your comfort zone in more ways than one.
His fingers play with the flimsy material of your new panties, grazing over your clit multiple times until you’re poking your ass out into his hand. “Someones keen, huh?” his low, raspy and taunting chuckle fills your ear sending shivers up and down your spine and causing goosebumps to form all over your hungry body.
“Please, Johnny” you beg pathetically, once again pushing back against his hand in hopes that he’ll get a move on and touch your properly. Which of course he does. You know he can never resist your charm. All the more reason why he’s slipping your panties to the side now so that his fingers can circle your arousal covered hole, almost dipping into your honey pot but holding back.
“Beg for it” he growls, taking your right earlobe between his teeth and biting down lightly “beg like the good girl i know you are” he continues and you gasp before breathing out a quick plea “p-please touch me Johnny, i need it” as your hands find purchase on the wall.
The feel of his knee spreading your legs apart gets you all the more excited for what’s the come and that’s when he gives you all that you’ve been craving, slipping two thick digits inside of you, coating them in your juices as they hit that spongy spot. He’s never had much trouble when it comes to finding your weak spots, he knows your body inside and out at this point and there’s not a time where you don’t cum when you’re with him.
“That good baby? My fingers getting that little cunt ready for my cock”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head in reaction to the pure filth leaving his not so innocent mouth and just as you go to let out a near enough pornographic style moan, throwing your head back too, the restroom door opens making you stop yourself. Footsteps make their way to one of the cubicles that just so happens to be next to the one your in.
Johnny then takes it upon himself to pull his drenched fingers out of you, reaching his hand in front of your face and shoving them into your mouth for you to suck on, using his free hand to undo his belt and now you know that you’re done for. You know exactly what he’s about to do. His cock rests at your entrance, staying there for a second before he slides in. Your walls welcome him in the best way, wrapping around his cock as he splits you open, stretching you beautifully yet again just like he does every time. The all too familiar feeling consumes you.
“You’d better be quiet if you don’t want to get caught” he mutters in hushed tones, switching it up so that his hand is fully covering your mouth, suffocating you as he drags his cock along your warm velvety walls deliciously. Obviously you don’t want to get caught but right now the anticipation of what could happen is enough to make you clamp down around him, earning a hiss.
A noise that obviously catches the attention of whomever is next door to your cubicle since the unsuspecting gentleman speaks up “are you okay in there, man?” shit. It’s Ben. You feel a wave of shame wash over you as Johnny picks his pace up slowly “yeah, everything's fine” he chirps, as if he has all the time in the world to converse when he’s buried balls deep inside of you.
“If you say so” Ben responds before flushing, washing his hands and then leaving the room. Now it’s just the two of you again. Johnny takes full advantage of the alone time by pushing you right up against the wall, your cheek squished against the tiles, his calloused hands splaying across your ass cheeks now and spreading them apart. Only so he can take a good look at the way he disappears into your tight chanel with ease.
“Doing so well baby, taking this cock like a fucking pro” he grunts, wrapping his hand around your neck and pulling your head back with the help of his other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair at the scalp but keeping your whole body pressed into the wall.
Sinful moans escape your mouth and at this point you’re way past the point of caring or trying to be quiet. Unless someone walks in then you’re going to let go and revel in the feel of him. The way his body traps you in makes your clit pulsate, you love being manhandled and you always have but only by him.
Anyone that takes even so much as a look at Johnny, they think ‘player’ and they’d be right but they’d also think he’d never be the type of man to be as filthy as he is in reality. Not only has he got a foul mouth on him but he’s kinky not to mention skilful in more areas than one. Dick and tongue game on point as well as those magical digits of his and the way they dance across your sex both delicately and brutally all at the same time.
You’re certainly not complaining though. 
“Fuck, Johnny” your back arches even more so than it was before as you shakily cry out his name with the kind of want that only he can spur on “what is it baby?”
“Don’t stop, i’m so close” you whimper desperately.
His pace is now rendering on animalistic as he fucks you into the wall with such vigor, wanting nothing more than to feel you come undone all over his cock, something he’ll never grow tired of.
“Come on then baby, give it to me” he eggs you on, keeping one hand wrapped around your neck still, tightening as the seconds tick by whilst his other hand smacks down on your exposed ass cheek, making it wobble a little which earns him a satisfied hum.
The two of you go crazy with you pushing back to meet his thrusts and him spanking your ass, both of you hungry for that release.
All of a sudden though the blaring music coming from outside stops. Making you panic. Johnny on the other hand is so close to reaching his peak and he knows you are too, so he doesn’t bother to stop.
But you hear the faint laughs of the wedding guests before what sounds like the DJ addressing everyone. Fuck. This better not be the speeches. You had one planned and so did Johnny.
He continues to fuck into you, grunting, growling and panting in your ear, driving you closer and closer to that edge. You can feel the coil twisting and turning in your stomach, on the verge of snapping at any second and you don’t think you’ll be able to hold back the noises when it happens.
“Gonna make you cream all over this cock baby and best believe i’ll be filling this sweet cunt up with my cum”
You rest your hand over his around your neck as your whole body starts to shake. You clench around his cock some more and just as you can taste the orgasm, the addition of his fingers pressing down on your clit push you off the edge and your head drops back onto his shoulder. The music starts up again, allowing you to really enjoy this. Your mouth hangs open whilst you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars as you fall into a pit of ecstasy. You can feel your legs shaking and threatening to give way but luckily for you Johnny moves his hands to your waist, wrapping around you so he can hold you up whilst he comes close to reaching his own end.
“Fuckkkkk, squeezing me so good baby”
You do it again for good measure and sure enough, he twitches inside of you, his hot cum painting your walls just like he said and a fucked out spent smile forms on your face making him laugh when he sees.
He rides the two of you through your highs before his thrusts come to a halt and he slowly pulls out. He then grabs some tissues, dropping to his knees and pressing yet another chaste kiss to your clit this time before cleaning you up. He can see that you’re struggling to stand so the second he’s done he rises to his feet, pulling you flush against him and then proceeding to push you up against the wall.
The two of you stare deep into each others eyes for a couple seconds, both of your chests rising and falling as you try to normalise your breathing. That was certainly an adventurous, dangerous and thrilling experience, one that you won’t be rushing to partake in again anytime soon. But it was amazing to say the least. The way he’s looking at you right now makes you want to throw caution to the wind and kiss him. So you do. You crash your lips to his, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and as expected, he kisses back. His grip tightens on your hips, pulling you even closer if that’s even possible.
“What was that for?” he asks as you come up for air and you shrug, not even sure of what it was yourself. But all you know is you like him and this isn’t just some fling to you, some form of messing around until the two of you get bored. There is a genuine connection there, one that you can’t wait to explore some more.
“I don’t even know” you giggle, pecking his lips again.
Silence falls upon the two of you before he finally blurts out “go out with me” as if he’s telling you rather than asking.
“What?” you furrow your brows in confusion.
“Go out with me, on a date”
“I thought Johnny Storm didn’t do dates” you quip back, raising your brows with a smirk to match “i don’t but i’d like to try if it’s with you” and that alone warms your heart. The same heart that’s been crushed and broken so many times before and it’s almost like he’s mending it. Not that you’re complaining.
You take no longer than a second to think before you’re agreeing and kissing him some more. That’s when the music stops and you both look at each other.
He quickly zips up his pants, doing his belt up again and shrugging his jacket back on before turning back to you. With you both now looking decent again, you get him to check your makeup, he wipes the stray bits of mascara that smudged before kissing your forehead.
He lets you leave first whilst he waits an appropriate 2 minutes before he heads out too. No one suspected a thing and now it’s time for the speeches.
This is definitely going to be a wedding to remember...
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What is Ro thinking right now? -𓆙
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      Virgil had just gotten done brushing his hair when they heard the commotion outside the Manor.
      Ainsliee squeaks in surprise. She turns to Virgil, boiling over with excitement, gleefully translating the message he had already guessed;
      “Daddy’s back! He’s calling for us!!”
      She grins and rushes over to Virgil, pulling his wrist and dragging him up from his seat. Virgil huffs in annoyance — not at her, of course, but at the bear’s continued barking — and waves his hand,
      “Go on to him, then. But be careful, he’s still dangerous!”
      Without a word of response, Annie dashes away. He doesn’t even think she was listening.
      Virgil sighs, shaking his head. He trusts the Beast spirit not to hurt her, even with it’s unreasonable strength; After how careful the bear had been with him about an hour before, there’s no way he won’t show the same gentleness with his own cub…
      The more cautious parts of Virgil can still imagine her rushing him too quickly and getting crushed on accident, though, so he knows he can’t linger long.
      Virgil stands up to get dressed, still not excited to see his friends again. His stomach churns at the possibilities as he meanders towards a closet, silently hoping Lolth would just strike him down right now so he wouldn’t have to talk to them.
      He just knows they’ll be angry, he feels it in his bones — and even if they aren’t, it will certainly be awkward, and that’s just as bad! 
      (Better to be the first to anger, so you might lead the conversation, Virgil reminds himself as he wallows in dread. He won’t even have to fake his ire if any of them come back injured, which he already knows is unavoidable. Aside from his desire to keep them all unharmed, he really doesn’t want to be owing any more favors…)
      (And even more besides, if he could be petty, Virgil doesn’t want to go back outside. It’s cold and windy tonight, his hair is still damp, his limbs are still sore, his mom has his armor, and he doesn't want to put clothes back on, damnit.)
      Another resounding roar thunders through the night air, and then Virgil feels the entire tree-tower tremble with vibrations.
      Fully realizing that this dire bear is willing to climb the place and rip it open to find him, Virgil grabs the nearest warm-looking robe. He hastily slips it on over his bandages (and quiver belt, which he had already been wearing) as he makes his way out of the Manor.
      ~~~
      Logan watches Roman pace back and forth around the trees, in front of the spiraling stairway that leads up into the complex. He’s been incessantly huffing and stomping around like a petulant child, and Logan has no idea what to say to make him stop; He's been trying ever since the city was in sight.
      Janus and Remus are very pointedly not helping, with Janus giving Logan a meaner side-eye the longer the wailing continues, and Remus yelling back at Roman for no other reason than to join in being loud.
      Patton has less fear of the gigantic, angry animal, approaching the groaning beast and patting a hand on his paw,
      “Aww, c’mon now, Roman. We just got here! Give them a minute to come down,” Patton soothes in a soft voice, “Not everyone is as fast as a giant bear!”
      Roman looks down at him, acknowledging his presence, but he either didn’t understand Patton’s words or wholeheartedly doesn’t care. He softly shakes his paw to scoot Patton away, then rears up on his back legs, raises his arms, then lurches all of his body weight forward and slams into the trunk of the massive tree.
      It doesn’t visibly shudder at his attack — even at his size, these great home-trees of the Faewild are many times wider around than a direbear, and won’t be knocked down so easily — but the intent is clear, and Logan worries someone as sensitive to vibrations as Virgil would be quite frightened. So, Logan quickly steps in, using a more stern tone this time (and his Universal Speech,)
      “That’s enough! You are being impatient,” Logan scolds, “They will come down soon enough. One of them is injured. They can take their time if they wish to.”
      An angry whine interrupts his last few words, but still, Roman backs away from the complex. He keeps growling and barking, but at least he’s not trying to break the damn thing down.
      Right on queue, a little blue girl comes flying down the stairs like a missile, grinning wildly. 
      Logan sighs in relief, happy to see her in good spirits after how they had left off. Roman seems to feel the same, finally quieting down his complaints. He drops his head down to meet her when she approaches, sniffing her as she reaches up to hug his muzzle. She squeezes him as best she can from there, giggling when he pushes down a little to nuzzle her.
      Practically tripping over herself with energy, Annie quickly pops up to bowl Patton over in a hug as well, giving Logan a wide grin over his shoulder as Patton squishes her close to his chest. Logan couldn’t suppress a smile in return, even if he wanted to.
      Virgil appears at the staircase then, looking comically ethereal. His long, re-dyed hair and wide-sleeved elven robe blow in the wind, his expression soft and quietly observant; He looks much more like the picture of a dark-elven noble you would find in a storybook than the grizzled soldier they’ve been travelling with. Even his eyes have changed color, with his sclera turned black and his pupils reflecting pale moonlight. 
      Virgil spots Patton and Annie embracing, and relaxes at the sight of them. Then he turns his gaze on the rest of the team, and his usual scowl returns, eyes glowing red to match. Logan is almost comforted by the familiarity. 
      “Olath ilhar, You’re hurt!” Virgil growls, rushing down to meet them. 
      Logan grumbles to himself over the hypocrisy of that statement, looking over the bandages absolutely covering Virgil’s arms, legs and abdomen.
      Roman shuffles his weight on his paws when he sees Virgil approach, but Virgil holds a hand out to him, scolding,
      “Oh don’t you even start! You will sit and wait your turn!”
      To Logan’s amazement, Roman whines and sits down on the grass, looking thoroughly reprimanded. 
      (Well that is just not fair.)
      Virgil looks over each of them in turn, searching for wounds. He circles Patton first, alarmed by the bandages across his middle. The careful prodding of his hands remains in stark contrast to the snarl in his voice,
      “I wouldn’t have let you go if I knew you were going to be so reckless!”
      “You hardly let us go at all. And, only two of us are injured.” Logan corrects as if he can’t help it, not taking Virgil’s returning glare so seriously.
      “Three of you! Roman is barely standing. And that’s more than half of your party, yutrit'zarreth!” Virgil hisses back. He moves over to Logan and stalks around him, searching him as well.
      “I’m fine, Virgil, I didn’t even get near the battle.” Logan protests, shrugging off Virgil’s patchwork cloak in order to return it.
      Virgil bares his teeth, still unconvinced. Logan sighs and sits through his examination, though he can’t help but complain to himself about how unfair Virgil is being. 
      Reminding himself of Virgil’s wounds, Logan uses their proximity to examine his bandages. They seem fairly well-wrapped, but it’s clear he hasn’t had any magical healing since they saw him last, and the bags under his eyes are dark even for Virgil. Every day it seems Virgil is stretching the limits of what levels of pain a person can ignore — by all accounts, he shouldn’t be conscious right now, much less standing.
      The last few battles, Logan had tried not to think too much about why Virgil does this, and even less about how he became able to. But, at this point, it’s become obvious that he has a very serious problem. Logan’s going to have to do something if he doesn’t want Virgil to drive himself into the grave...
      While he lets himself worry, Logan also notices the belt of Virgil’s quiver is strapped right over his bandages. 
      “Are you wearing that against your bare skin?” Logan scolds before he can stop himself, “What about the wound on your back?”
      “Don’t worry about it.” Virgil grumbles, though bringing it up seems to have scared him off. He snatches his cloak from Logan’s hands, pulling it in under his robe and fastening it so it lies between the robe and his skin, then slinks away, glowering. Logan can’t help but think he’s misstepped, somehow.
      Virgil has already moved on to look over Janus, who also tries to shoos the archer away, insisting he’s unharmed. Virgil hisses at him, too, but quickly moves on to Remus anyway.
      “Get inside and rest, all of you!” Virgil orders as he prowls around him, examining the bruises on his sides and back with gentle touches, “We’ve already lost too much travel time as it is, at this rate we’ll never make it to the Capital.”
      “What about Roman? I doubt he can fit inside, are we just going to leave him out here??” Patton whines. Virgil snaps a short, sharp laugh and glares at the bear,
      “Yeah, for all I care.”
      Roman groans at him, and Virgil snaps something back in Drowic. Logan doesn’t know if he can actually understand Virgil’s words or just the tone in which he’s saying them, but Roman is certainly respecting his orders more than he did Logan’s.
      (Logan quickly reminds himself that Virgil had once claimed to be a Ranger, and answers his own questions on the matter.)
      “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Logan advises carefully, taking note of Virgil’s mood. He keeps his tone as soothing as possible as he explains,
      “This is his first time shifting, we should stay to make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless. Besides, specifically as a bear, he will grow distressed if we leave his sight.”
      “You’re just saying that because you want to study him.” Janus supplies unhelpfully, apparently living to annoy him. Virgil doesn’t respond, though, and Logan can tell that his reasoning got through to him.
      Remus rolls his eyes, quickly growing bored of their debate,
      “Well, I’m certainly staying with Brother Bear over here, and the three of us have a long overdue heart-to-heart scheduled for, ehhh, right about now~!”
      Virgil pretends not to hear him while he studies the bruise on Remus’s back. Remus frowns at being ignored, turning on his heel and grabbing Virgil’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks,
      “Let’s have a little chat~! You aren’t getting out of this, slick.”
      Virgil glares holes into Remus’s chest, then turns away from him, hissing his discomfort the entire way. Janus looks similarly displeased, leveling an unfriendly look at Remus before taking his hand and following along.
      Logan and Patton follow the three of them, Annie holding Patton’s hand and instructing Roman to follow behind.
      Virgil leads them to a vacated barn, instructing Roman to lie down and wait. Annie nestles in next to his side, and Logan and Patton join her, watching Virgil lead Remus and Janus back out. Virgil keeps himself several paces ahead of them, looking like he might lose his nerve and bolt at any minute.
      Logan and Patton share an uneasy look, only able to speculate about what happened between Virgil and the odd duo…
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      Janus doesn’t say a word, worried about getting himself in trouble before they even start the conversation. Virgil already seems tense, and Janus doesn’t ignore the way he positions himself closer to the Manor complex than to the barn.
      Once he’s satisfied they’re far enough away that Logan can’t eavesdrop, he very rigidly turns to face his two old friends, waiting for someone else to start.
      Janus and Virgil just glare in each other’s directions, both refusing to be the first to get vulnerable. (At least Virgil’s eyes are glowing faintly red, so Janus knows where they’re pointed, and where the hell Virgil is.)
      Remus stands with his hands on his hips and glances between them impassively, knowing it’s only a matter of time until one of them cracks.
      Despising the awkward silence more than anything else, Janus finally smirks,
      “Well, you look terrible.”
      “What are you doing here?” Virgil growls, shifting his gaze between the two. He still hasn’t looked either of them in the eye, just glaring at the grass by their feet like it’s done something to offend him; something it took many years to get Virgil to stop doing.
      “Oh, you know I just love the Faewild,” Janus grumbles, folding his arms defensively, “But, this time, I must confess we were mainly looking for you.”
      “Why?” Virgil growls even lower, his eyes turning even brighter red. Janus rolls his eyes at the aggressive display, 80% certain Virgil is simulating it this time.
      “What do you mean ‘why?’” Janus scoffs, quickly growing annoyed, “It’s been so long, I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost!” 
      Janus expected the cold reception, of course, but he’s never exactly been lauded for his temper. Remus steps in, knowing a spat is imminent if he doesn’t. He chuckles,
      “You fucked off in quite a rush, but you did say you were coming home eventually.”
      Virgil’s jaw drops.
      He quickly shakes himself out of it and resumes his defensive posture, but the damage was done; The same shocked look spreads to the other two. The three just stare each other down, all of them growing more confused by the minute. 
      Virgil breaks first, looking away at a suddenly very interesting rock as he mumbles,
      “…You expected me to come back?”
      Janus can immediately read the implication under the words; the question Virgil is afraid to ask. He feels his chest constrict a little at the thought, too winded to keep up his usual snark. In all of the visions he had seen to prepare for this moment, Virgil had never reacted like this. Usually he ran, and often he was angry at them or scared of them, but never…dejected.
      “Darling, of course! How could you assume anything else?”
      “I don’t know,” Virgil huffs, shoulders raising up to his ears, “Maybe it was the huge fucking fight we had seconds before I ran off for two fucking years— Aren’t you mad?!”
      “No!” Janus and Remus shout at the same time, with varying levels of surprise and distress. Virgil’s still on the offensive, glaring at them.
      “Fuck off! I almost took your whole arm off, and then you leased that dweomer, and Remus lost it—”
      “That’s not the first time we each went a little crazy, Virgil.” Janus shakes his head, subtly motioning down to his ankle,
      “That’s part of the reason we’ve stuck together for so long, remember?” 
      Virgil smiles a little at the reference, an inside joke between the three of them he thankfully hasn’t forgotten. Still, he seems reluctant.
      He turns a bit towards them now, though he’s started picking at his nails, like he does when he’s really nervous. His eyes are wide and startled, but he still won’t look up,
      “That time was… different. Something happened. I think I…” He shakes his head, steadying his voice before he continues, 
      “No, I know it this time. I’m not going crazy, something cursed me in that cave! All I remember is us knocking over some altar with a crystal on it, and now I can do magic on the surface?! And I got all paranoid about every little move, and I tried to run off for good!”
      “It wasn’t a curse. At least, I don’t think so.” Janus sighs, looking down at his hand, which is now covered in dragon-like scales under his glove. “And it wasn’t just you, either.”
      Remus grins, focusing on drawing forward that strange energy he now houses. He holds out his hand, letting Virgil watch as he conjures the usual smoke effects he’s always been able to summon, now along with some unusual yellow lightning flashing within.
     “Me and Deedee also got some cool new powers~! And some other weird stuff, too!”
      Virgil slowly creeps forward to get a better look, still apparently deciding whether he should be afraid or angry. Very slowly, he reaches up and lays one of his hands on Remus’s, then raises the other. Janus and Remus watch as Virgil’s eyes glow blue, and a cluster of lightning grows out of his skin, dancing around his fingers. A moment later, both magic effects fizzle out with a sharp crackling sound.
      “Where did you learn that?” Janus hums, mildly impressed, though he already knows the answer. Virgil shrugs, looking back towards the barn,
      “Logan’s been teaching me how to control it. I’m still not great at it yet, but I haven’t accidentally killed anyone in several days.” Virgil sighs. He looks around at his friends, finally looking them in the eyes, though he still looks a bit like a frightened animal. Slowly, he adds,
      “I still don’t know how I feel about this,” He admits, then sends a short glance at Remus, “But, you and your brother have to do something together in town, right? So… We’re all going in the same direction, anyway.” 
      “And you’re set on these new guys?” Janus sighs, trying not to sound disappointed. Virgil shrugs.
      “I don’t think I can leave them yet. I’m making progress, but I still need Logan’s help…” Virgil looks back at the barn, an annoyed grumble returning to his tone, 
      “And, these three are kind of pathetic. I really don’t think they’ll make it in one piece without us, anyway.”
      Janus chuckles in agreement, not at all surprised. Remus flips his hair with a smile,
      “Oh, so there’s an ‘us’ now~?”
      Before Virgil can even blush at the slip, Remus is laughing again,
      “Well then, it can’t be helped~ Looks like the three of us are coming with them!”
      “Of course.” Janus nods, “As much as it pains me to waste my time with such irksome people, it would be convenient for us to travel together. And, according to Logan, you need a sorcerer’s help with the whole ‘training’ thing.”
     (Janus avoids adding a snarky remark about how “that also proves that you never should have left to begin with,” though it is difficult.)
      “I’d rather it be you then some other high class know-it-all I haven’t met. One is enough.” Virgil admits, though he can’t resist rolling his eyes at Janus’s snark.
      Now, a bit of a smirk has returned to Virgil’s face. He looks between the two again, blushing slightly and fiddling with his hands again to distract from his brain. Virgil himself is unsure whether he’s more afraid or hopeful. Not that he would ever admit to the latter.
      “So… you really aren’t mad?”
      “No, dear. If any of us have a right to be, it’s you.” Janus sighs. Virgil whines in complaint,
      “But— Two years is a long time for you, you can’t just let me get away with that!”
      “I was busy with something, anyway, so it’s no big deal~” Janus sighs, not quite willing to admit to himself whether or not it’s a lie. To silence Virgil’s arguing he holds one hand out to Virgil, and focuses on melting away just that little section of his glamour.
      Green and yellow scales are revealed all along his hand and wrist, and Virgil gasps for a moment, reaching over to touch them. The look he gives Janus then is devastating, the last of the fear easing out of his shoulders as the memory of that night washes over him.
      “This is what I was scared of?” Virgil frowns, sounding more than a little disappointed in himself, “Your scales are spreading?”
      “There’s much more to it than that,” Janus quickly corrects him, letting the phrase carry a lot of weight for him, “But we can get into that when you’re awake enough to process a more detailed conversation.”
      “I thought you were just born with them. Are you supposed to grow more?”
      “No, I’m not. Like Remus said, you aren’t the only one who was affected.” Janus shrugs, “We both have physical mutations, though not quite like your scars. Remus already mentioned what happened to his wings, didn’t he?”
      Virgil turns to him expectantly. Remus holds his hands behind his back and grins,
      “Ooooh no, I’m saving that surprise for something special. After all, now Roman’s here to see ‘em too, and you know I can’t resist dramatic timing~”
      “Before you keep insisting you’re too dangerous to congregate around,” Janus muses lightly before Virgil can say another word, “You’re not the only one with new temporal magic.”
      Janus takes a tiny amount of pleasure in the momentary horror on Virgil’s face. As a treat.
      “Oh, don’t get all worked up, my love~” Janus teases, patting Virgil’s arm, “I’m not able to affect time in any real sense, I can only predict the future. That’s how we were able to track you somewhat reliably.”
      “That’s terrifying.” Virgil grumbles, “Are you guys having bursts like mine??”
      “Nope. Aside from the visions, which can sneak up on me at times, I’m perfectly in control of my magic.” Janus smirks, “Remus has been having a similar problem to yours, when he gets excited. Not nearly as large-scale, though it can occasionally be dangerous.”
      “And I revel in the chaos of it, so no skin off my back~!” Remus grins. 
      They fall into silence again, though it’s a bit more comfortable now. Virgil shuffles from foot to foot, not quite sure how to end the conversation, or disperse the lingering doubts and awkwardness hanging between them.
      (As much as Virgil can try and dismiss his old feelings as “part of the Madness Roman cured,” there’s still a lot about that night that still doesn’t feel right in Virgil’s gut, and he doesn’t know how long he wants to wait for a longer explanation.)
      (And, though their parting altercation has been mostly dismissed, it’s still been two years since he saw them last. Virgil knows how much non-elves can change in that time. What if even now, with everything said and done, they still can’t go back to the way they were before? What if they’re different now, and they don’t get along as well as they used to? Should he really want to, anyway??)
      Sensing his worries and eager to put them to rest, Janus peels his other glove off as well and steps forward, very gently taking Virgil’s hands.
      “Are you angry?” He asks, softly and genuinely. 
      “You can be upset, Virgil. A lot has happened, it’s okay if you need time.” Janus sends a glance in Remus’s direction, prodding him to help. Remus gives Virgil one of his ‘dazzling’ grins, trying to reassure him that they don’t hold any grudges.
      Virgil relishes the familiar feeling of Janus’s hand, shoving aside his remaining worries. He’ll deal with his lingering doubts later.
      (Their arrival has added an incredible number of new problems to his plate, but he’s frazzled and exhausted. His best friends are back, and they don’t hate him. At least for tonight, that will be enough; God knows he has enough to worry about right now, anyway.)
      Virgil shakes his head, voice still sore from earlier that day, and nearly boneless with exhaustion. Janus and Remus share a knowing look, well aware Virgil is hiding something but too overwhelmed to get into it now. 
      “Let’s just head back in and rest for tonight.” Virgil sighs, brushing his hair behind his ear. He turns to Janus, frowning,
      “In the morning, you’re going to have to tell them about the sorcery thing. And, probably also about being a snake. Logan never leaves it be at one question.”
      “Ugh! You people won’t let me keep any of my secrets!” Janus complains, folding his arms. He already knew he would need to come clean, but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it. He tilts his chin up in an expression of faux-contempt, tone mocking,
      “Fine, but only if you promise to actually sleep tonight. I wasn’t kidding earlier, you look like shit.”
      “That’s not fair, someone has to keep watch!”
      “We have a twenty-foot bear in there, who is going to sneak up on that? You’re being ridiculous.”
      “But what about when Roman changes back in the morning? Someone has to be awake to help him!”
      “I will, then!” Remus scoffs, “I’m his brother, he’s not gonna want anyone else to see him naked. Besides, we all know damn well you’re going to wake up the second anyone moves, hypersensitive ass.” 
      “Oh, shit.” Virgil hums, “We should pick him up some clothes before we head back in…”
      “Ooooh, can I pick them out~?” Remus grins evilly. Virgil slaps his arm, trying not to laugh,
      “No, leave him alone! He’s probably gonna be scared at first. You can bully him later.”
      “You’re such a buzzkill! I don’t remember you being this lame.”
      “Say that again when I have the energy to kick your ass.”
      They playfully shove and bat at each other the whole way up the stairs, being careful of each other’s wounds while threatening to throw the other off the balcony. At the same time, they move slowly, considerate of Janus’s leg and eyesight. 
      Janus watches them and suppresses a fond smile, his cold heart warming at how quickly they’ve started to ease back into their usual dynamic...
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Ask 119     (( @zozomind​​ , @renee-niles​​ ))
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Rules
Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!
Available for questions: Logan, Patton, Remus, Janus, Annie, Virgil, and…Roman?
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You have reached the end of Level 2!
Begin Level 3: The Past is Never Dead 
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You can now save your first File in Level 3 with the Game Menu!
Save Files:
File A.1: Communication      ?
File B.2: The Heart of the Matter      ?
File B.3: Angel’s Epithet      ?
File B.4: Pack Tactics      ?
File B.5: Lay Bear the Breast      ?
File B.6: Lay Bare the Beast      ?  
File B.7: Moonlight Dancers      ?
[ !!! WARNING: Save File Limit Breached! ]
[ Which file will you DELETE? ]
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…What a curious title. I wonder what it could mean…
...And it looks like you’ve unlocked something new in the Game Menu!
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(( UPDATED: If you missed the Patreon/Kofi announcement! ))
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thessalian · 2 years
Text
Thess vs Attendance Issues
I have now discovered the one significant drawback of working from home, at least for me: when absolutely slammed, the temptation is there to just keep working.
Logged in this morning - first thing I see is that Scruffman is taking half-days. Okay, fine. I get logged into the remote desktop where the transcription software is and note that from the high double-digits on Friday, we’re at over 300 reports in the queue. So I’m sitting here going, “What the actual fuck?!?” So I check around other people’s queues. Temp is apparently not in. Goblin’s either not in or not typing (it could be either; she does have some other duties, hates the typing, and will tend to slack off when Scruffman’s away). Milady is doing the odd one or two bits of typing but with Scruffman away, she’s generally the one who takes on his tasks. And Violet (as in ‘shy’; best I can come up with for the quiet, elderly, somewhat fragile lady who also works in the department) ... again, either not in or not typing. So, whether people are away or just significantly slacking off ... it’s just me. By myself. The words “Oh FUCK” come to mind, because I have a horrible sinking feeling that Temp’s on annual leave or something...
Wait. Hang on. I can actually check in on other’s booked leave on our system.
Okay. Goblin was apparently in, so probably avoiding the typing like the plague as per usual, and getting away with it because no Scruffman. Temp should have been in (she was off on Monday). Violet should have been in, but again, she does have some other duties. But where was Temp? And this other person, the one who’s apparently been on maternity leave for, like, ever and is still listed as coming in four days a week - where is she? What the fuck, basically? Was Temp off sick? If so, why didn’t anyone tell me? Are we ever getting Mama Bear in working at all? Why was it only me typing today, for the most part? Should I be asking questions about this?
Point is that we’re going to be looking at a 400-odd typing queue tomorrow at this rate. I did my best, but there were a lot of exceptionally long complicated ones, one of which ... well, this individual jumps around a lot in terms of the dictation. See, it’s supposed to be information from the request form, then macroscopic report, then block key with number of samples per block. What he does is dictates a bit of the macro, then does the bit of the block key regarding that specific bit, then goes back to the macro and does the next bit, then the block key about that specific bit, for as many separate bits as there are ... and then, after all that, he only tacks on the number of samples per block at the very end. So I’m having to back and forth through the bit of dictation multiple times and it’s a mess. An absolute fucking mess. It also causes mess-ups like saying that it’s the end of the report and then pausing before going, “Oops, here’s the number of samples per block!” so that I end up missing it. Or like rushing through and accidentally forgetting a bit of block key. So you can see how that took up a lot of my time. Also I was having to focus the urgent cases because I have no idea when anyone is coming back to help me.
So yes, I am looking at my laptop, quietly panicking, and trying to tell myself not to put in another hour or two. No one asked me to. I did my best. It is not my fault that no one was available or willing to help me. All that would be doing is setting a bad precedent.
...But tomorrow’s going to be mental and Temp is still going to leave me all the long bullshit and she might not even be in tomorrow if she’s off sick so AAAAAAAAGH!
Right. I have to go out to the local pharmacy. Maybe the fact that I am of the ow will help reinforce that no, no, I really do not want to do overtime. Particularly since I wouldn’t be sure how to actually claim it to get paid. Overtime is bad; free overtime is worse.
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pillow-anime-talk · 4 years
Text
chibi-chan.
synopsis: A little bit of jokes about your height from GoM’s boys or situations where you need some help. But don’t worry, we all know that you are super cute and adorable.
# tags: scenarios; current relationships; comedy; fluff; romance; jokes; also protective/helpful boyfriends; sfw
includes: female reader ft. ryouta kise, daiki aomine, shintarou midorima, atsushi murasakibara, seijuurou akashi & tetsuya kuroko {knb}
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— RYOUTA
You’ve been wondering how to impress your boyfriend for a few days, because he hasn’t paid much attention to you for a long time. Even when you came in a different hairstyle or changed your perfume, Ryouta just smiled at you, then stole one kiss from you and run for basketball team training...
Oh, right. Basketball. You didn’t know a bigger fan of this sport than your boyfriend. Stupid thought of playing basketball passed through your head to show off your skills (or rather attempts to have any skills to play in this sport) to Kise.
The more you thought about it, the more convinced you were. You decided to try and on Friday immediately after your lessons you went to the gym. You knew that at 5 p.m. the Kaijou team would start their training, so you only had an hour to take off your whole uniform, jump into the P.E.’s tracksuit and pick one ball from the big bin and start slowly throwing into the basket hoop.
Of course, it’s easy to guess that it was hard for you to hit into the hoop with your... small height. Certainly when you were born, you didn’t queue for ‘being tall’, but rather for a nice smile and big eyes. No wonder that for the first ten casts only one was successful and it was certainly a coincidence, because the ball spun three times on the rim before falling inside.
“I suck in this game.” You muttered under your breath, again taking a position on the first line on the court.
You were so absorbed in the game that you didn’t even notice how a curious blond-head looked inside the gym because of the noise and the light on. What a surprise for Kaijou’s ace who saw you in front of the basketball board and the ball in your hands.
However, when he noticed your next inaccurate shot he laughed under his breath. “I think you’re a little too short for this game, Y/Ncchi.” He said in an amused voice, entered the room. You turned to the voice and then sighed.
“And too short for you to notice me, huh?” You added wearily, catching the ball.
“Y/Ncchi... I always see you!”
“I don’t think so. But I don’t blame you. I just wanted to... impress you. You like basketball, so maybe you would like me more if I could play with you.” You shrugged, throwing ball into the hoop again. Miss. “Shit.”
The blonde man shook his head approaching you. “I like you no matter what you do or how you do it. You don’t have to play basketball to impress me. You should change you for you and only you, not me or someone else. Anyway, I said what I said. I notice you all the time, Y/Ncchi. You looked pretty last time when you had a ponytail. Your new perfume was amazing too. Hmm, now when I think about it, I don’t praised you for that, right? But know that I appreciate everything you do.” He confessed quietly, patting you on the head. “And now Chibicchi, I’ll show you how to play basketball, because you have a terrible position to throw a ball...”
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— DAIKI
Aomine definitely loved teasing you the most if your height was at stake. He usually made you as his own armrest or asked what’s weather below. They were a puppy jokes that somewhat irritated you, somewhat amused you, and somewhat embarrassed you, but what can you do? After all, they were just pokes and you knew that well. In retaliation, you often mocked him by calling him a ladder, giraffe or Eiffel Tower.
Daiki was glad you weren’t offended about it because... you were incredibly cute to him when your cheeks turned red and slight insults came from your lips. Of course he would never say it out loud, but you were super fluffy for him and he liked this side of you. And hey, as your tall boyfriend he had nice views from above. For this and if necessary he liked to take you on his lap or cuddle with you on the armchair, because you were the pocket-sized person and he could cover your whole body by his.
But as I wrote, Aomine would never have said it out loud. He just always laughed, saying you were shrunk again.
Of course, Daiki wasn’t such a bastard to you.
I mean, yes. Aomine had the right to make fun of you, but no one else him could do it, because he knew that after all your height is your complex. Your boyfriend spoke his jokes in a gentle way, always saying at the end that he loves your body anyway, because of this he feels more manly and needful. He didn’t spare wet kisses or hickeys on your chest at that time, so you didn’t feel bad with him. You love each other very much.
However, when other people’s jokes were involved, such as those from girls who were jealous of your blue-haired man or gross jokes from boys who didn’t like Aomine or wanted to pick you up... Daiki changed his mood immediately.
Just like now, when you were walking towards Aomine’s class to go to the roof with him and have breakfast. Unfortunately, just before the door a couple of first-year students stopped you; one of them hit the wall with his hand, blocking the way for you.
“Hey, Y/N-chan. Oh, this bento is for me?” The tall black-haired boy took your breakfast box, then raised it high up, smiling broadly. “Thank you, it’s really nice. You are such a damn cutie.”
“Please, no. W-Wait...”
“Maybe we’ll arrange a date? We can go to the cinema and then to me. I think it won't be a problem with you getting into my bed, because you're so small...”
“Don’t touch me and give my bento back!” You jumped to catch the white box, but in vain.
“Oh, I have great views from my perspective.” The teenager laughed, not even noticing the shadow of a much taller person behind him. The box with your bento was picked up and the perverted student was pressed against the wall next to you.
“Why don’t you repeat what you just said a moment ago?” Daiki asked and you immediately ran up to him, hiding behind him. “Harassing girls... especially girls in the relationship... It’s really shitty, don’t you think? Get out, brat and never approach my girlfriend again.”
As I said, only Daiki can use your height for kissing or joking.
And of course to show that he’s the best boy on the whole world.
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— SHINTAROU
Your boyfriend was a difficult man. He rarely showed any emotions, but you knew that he cares about you very much and despite his cold behavior he always worries about you.
No less, Midorima is... Midorima. You didn’t know any bigger tsundere than him; especially when you two were together at the random moment.
Like. Did you forget your scarf? No problem, Shintarou will lend you his own and tell you that you are irresponsible and childish. You’re hungry? All right, your boyfriend will buy you something from the school cafeteria or share his bento saying it’s the last time he does it for you (spoiler: this isn’t the last time because he’s a simp for you anyway). You’re tired? Girl... Midorima will take you on his lap and hug you so tight that your heart will melt, but three times he will mention that you can’t tell anyone about this situation. Mom, I love him.
In any case, Shin has his own way of showing affection, which is primarily based on texting to you or bringing for you your lucky items for the day; for example, recently, Midorima brought you a key ring with a puppy's pendant, because Oha Asa mentioned that this wouldn't be a good day for your zodiac... Sweet.
Today, however, he brought to school only an item for you (by the way, it was a Tokyo’s guide), or so you thought, because Shintarou always discusses with you about his lucky thing. And today he didn’t say a single word about it. He only took your hand and led you to class, saying that he would come for you at your next break.
And so, throughout today’s day Midorima didn’t leave you even for a moment, and by the way he still walked with you by the hand, which was a bit strange for you because Shin didn't like a public PDA. Takao was equally surprised.
Only when you started coming back to home with the green-haired man who was walking next to you (of course with your fingers laced with his) you decided to ask Shintarou if something had happened.
“So... your today’s happy item is a holding hands or maybe rather a woman’s hand?” You asked seriously, laughing under your breath, at which Midorima looked at you surprised.
“No.” He said honestly, so you immediately thought that your boyfriend joined into a PDA lovers! You were about to say something, but he continued. “My lucky thing for today is something small, that’s why I thought about you.”
You hit the boy on the shoulder, blushing furiously. “Idiot.”
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— ATSUSHI
With Murasakibara, no matter if you were 155 centimeters tall, 168 centimeters tall or even 180 centimeters tall... you would still be small for him. And because you were below average, your relationship looked at least funny, but also sweet.
Of course, Atsushi didn’t care about your height, what’s more – he considered that it’s your advantage because he was pleased to took you in his arms while watching movies or grab your hands and play with them. Therefore, while you were next to him, you praised him and (maybe) from time to time you fed or played with his hair, Murasakibara paid no attention to your height. And when someone asked him if he didn't mind about it, he answered with his the most weary voice ‘Why would that kind of things should bother me? My Y/N-chin is my Y/N-chin and I like her no matter what. Do you have any problem with her or me?’
Of course, Atsushi is a big baby who likes to tease you, but he doesn’t use words for it; I mean, very often, when you want to kiss him, a tall boy laughs quietly and specifically asks that ‘huh, do you have a problem’ to reaching his lips. He always suggests bringing a ladder or chair. You snort, hitting him at the waist and laught shortly after that. Finally, you always pull him by the shirt to bend him down. He can't refuse you anyway.
Especially when you threaten him with not giving him snacks the next day.
Atsushi is a very supportive boy! If someone else teases you and you feel bad about your height difference, then your man always grabs the other person's head and asks rhetorically whether to crush him. Therefore, in order not to feel bad about it, you immediately offer him something to eat; if it's one of his three favorite dishes he'll probably follow you like a faithful dog.
‘Sushi likes to lift you up and help you to get to the basket board. His height is also very helpful when you cook something together, and he has the task of reaching for ingredients or bowls.
Nevertheless, sometimes he can’t refrain from saying that you are really smol. And if you’re together among the crowd, he sometimes he loses sight of you.
Fortunately, Atsu is so tall that you can find he quickly (usually at food stalls).
“You’re lost again, Y/N-chin...”
“You went to the snack machine without even telling me anything!” You laughed reaching for your wallet to buy ice cream for both of you.
“Sorry, sometimes I forget that you’re so small and have short legs, Chibi-chin.”
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— SEIJUUROU
Your boyfriend definitely isn’t one of those type who joke about such serious matters as appearance, style or diseases. However, if he only saw or heard that someone was laughing at you, he immediately appeared next to your figure, which caused the tormentor escape. No one dared to object to Seijuurou, it’s a fact.
Akashi, of course, didn’t laugh at your height as I wrote, but this doesn’t mean that he didn’t like the fact that you asked him a favor or asked him to give you something or help you in doing a random thing. This brat asked for something in return each time; usually it was a kiss but sometimes it was also something more.
In any case, your man always went into defense mode when he was with you, through what many people were surprised by his change from Akashi in the basketball team > Akashi in the company of Y/N.
For example, imagine such a scene: You go to your home with Seijuurou because the boy decided to help you with chemistry and physic, but on your the way you unfortunately stumble over the protruding curb and fall into the ground, injuring your knee. Sei immediately changes from ‘full seriousness’ to “God, honey, are you all right?”
“Sei-kun, I’m not dying.”
“Yes, but it looks really bad. Let me take you in my arms.”
“Seijuurou-kun, I can really go on my own legs.”
“I won’t let you. Come here.”
“You’ll be tired and I’m heavy.”
“No, you’re not. You’re tiny.”
There really is no point in arguing with him because you won’t win anyway. Although you have to admit that thanks to the pink-haired you feel really loved and appreciated. There is no person in the world who cares about you like Akashi.
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— TETSUYA
This boy is literally an angel. He probably won’t say a bad word about your height, but if he does, he will be 100% unknowingly about it and if he quickly understands his mistake, he will apologize for it; for example, he says you have recently seemed taller, but after a while he will remember that you were wearing shoes with a higher heel that day, not sneakers. Tetsuya is the most supportive boy in the world who will help you with everything you have a problem with.
You can’t reach the top shelf in the store? Kuroko will take your favorite cereal without a word and say that if you need something else from this or other shelf, just tell him. Do you have a problem with hanging laundry or putting curtains on your window? Tetsuya will gladly help you or lift your body to make you more comfortable. Are you cold? This cutie will lend you his sweatshirt/jacket/blanket, saying that you should take care of yourself, because you quickly catch a cold.
You! Literally! Have! Nothing! To! Complain! About!
Angel. I said what I said.
Kuroko isn’t one of the highest either people, so he is somewhat happy that his girlfriend is much shorter than him and sometimes needs his help for even such simple matters as changing a light bulb, reaching for a book in the library or chips from the storage locker in kitchen.
Sometimes, however, you get the impression that Kuroko is too worried about you. Like at this moment when you were going to go swimming with your boyfriend in the lake because you and your friends from Seirin went for a little rest. And also ‘cause the basketball team has a training under the supervision of Riko.
“Y/N-chan can you swim here? It’s quite deep. I’m worried.”
“Yes, Tetsuya, I can handle it. But I will take your hand when I feel threatened.”
“Yes, but you can hurt yourself. Grab me now. Pretty please.”
Kuroko is definitely cute and lovely, but he should chill.
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seoracle · 4 years
Text
DRIVERS LICENSE; i
Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader
Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)
Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?
Word Count: 3.2K
Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention
A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry
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“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”
You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.
Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.
It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame. 
“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”
Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real. 
Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back. 
“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.
“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.
A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.
All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.
When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it  was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.
[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..
User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.
Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.
That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist. 
Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.
Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.
It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.
After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.
Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that. 
The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.
Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.
You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.
Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.
“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.
“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.
Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face. 
“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.” 
Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.
You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.
“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.
After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.
‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy. 
“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.” 
You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.
“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.
“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.
The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?
“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!”  You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.
“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.
“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”
The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain. 
Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager). 
You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind. 
“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’
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“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”
He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea.  “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.
“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.
Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo. 
Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu. 
San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed. 
As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face. 
“Y/N?” 
Shit. You cannot hide from this.
Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever. 
Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.
“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.
“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.” 
You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.
'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?” 
Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect. 
When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.
“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”
“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat. 
Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long. 
Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.
Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her. 
“Iris?”
“Uh, no, Chris.” 
“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?
“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”
“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”
“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.
“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”
“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”
“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.
“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”
“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.
“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”
Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.
“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.
“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.
“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”
“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.
“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”
This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?
“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”
Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”
“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.
“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”
Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.
That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.
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It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–
Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.
“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”
“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.
“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.” 
“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”
“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”
Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.
“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.
“Twelve months, then you’re free again.” 
Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop. 
“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”
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crispychrissy · 3 years
Text
Connected - Part 4
Summary: Dr. Austin's theory is put to the test, and she shows Tony, Bucky, and Steve the woman behind the mystery. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2976 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, stretching the medical science behind the super soldier serum, discussion of Bucky's previous trauma & a mention of the horrible things the Nazi's did A/N: I apologize for the late posting, I fell asleep so hard last night I didn't have a chance to queue this, and then I was out all day (good 14 hours out and about) so I am just now able to post the new chapter since I'm home now. As I mentioned in a prior post, I no longer have a forever taglist, but I will still tag series specific people if they request. You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)
Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
Bucky made a quick call to Shuri who, after a thorough interrogation as to why he was asking, assured him his arm would not be affected by the magnets of an MRI machine. So now, Bucky was laying down on his back inside the machine and staring at the small glass covered camera embedded in the inside curve of the plastic above him.
“Stop staring at the camera, Barnes, you’re giving off some crazy resting murder face right now,” Tony’s staticky voice came through the pair of disposable earbuds he was wearing to protect his hearing from the noise of the scan. “Might sell these scans to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You actually do have something going on in that head of yours.”
“As much as I know you want to answer, Sergeant Barnes, please do not speak or move,” Dr. Austin’s voice came through after what sounded like a small scuffle for the microphone.
Bucky blinked several times in an unnatural yet controlled fashion, and when he heard Steve’s laughter coming through the earbuds, he had to fight the urge to smile, knowing Steve got the message he blinked out in Morse code.
F-U-C-K Y-O-U T-O-N-Y
The scan was over almost a half an hour later, and Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief once the table began to slide out of the massive scanner. Confined spaces still made his skin crawl and flash back to the cryo tube he was kept in, but the MRI was surprisingly open in design and not like the ones he usually remembered seeing in hospitals. When he brought it up to Dr. Austin on their way back to her office, she smiled at him and explained most of the soldiers they treat have PTSD and claustrophobia, so an open MRI design was necessary for the comfort of the patients she treats.
It made sense, and when they entered her office and Bucky’s stomach growled for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, she tossed him the orange he’d been eyeing earlier before taking a seat at her desk and flipping open her laptop.
“Normally we have to wait for the images to be reviewed by a radiologist, but I’m well versed in how to read brain scans,” Dr. Austin explained, clicking a few times before leaning forward to study the screen. “Oh, wow.”
“What?” Bucky asked, using his teeth to bite a chunk of the orange’s peel off since his right hand didn't have nails long enough, and his left didn’t have nails at all. Once he could see the flesh of the orange underneath, he slid his flesh finger under the remaining peel and began to remove it in large pieces, trying to avoid getting sticky juice on his metal hand.
Dr. Austin spun her laptop around to show Bucky the image on her screen. It was a scan of his head, he could tell that, but the mess of swirling bright colors on the inside where his brain was made his eyes hurt. There were bright greens and blues swirled with more vibrant reds and pinks dancing around inside the image. “This is your brain.”
“Looks more like those posters… the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ pictures if they were made in the sixties, Doc,” Tony said. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to look like that?”
“No. There’s so much brain activity that it’s likely what’s been burning through your energy and why you’ve been hungry all the time,” Dr. Austin explained. “Any type of brain activity, including emotions and problem solving, requires energy, whether it’s planning a complex strategy of attack for a mission or a simple math problem or crying at a sad part in a movie. Overworking the mind usually leads to tiredness, which leads to sleep, naturally refreshing those energy reserves. Most humans don’t expend enough energy, even when the brain is very active, to require major replenishment. Take Mr. Stark for example.”
Tony looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Me?”
“Yes, you’re a very intelligent man, and I’m guessing that when you’re elbow deep in your inventions or developing something, you don’t sleep and will go days without rest… so you find you get somewhat hungry at random times, right?” Dr. Austin asked.
“Well, yeah, I usually keep snacks around the lab that I nibble on so I don’t have to leave to make an actual meal. It ruins the momentum,” Tony said, confusion in his voice. “Pep’s found me passed out over the kitchen counter halfway through making a sandwich.
“Your body shut down and went to sleep before you were even able to replenish that energy via food since sleep is more efficient. So, that is a normal human mind.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, when Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and switched analogies. “Fine, that’s a standard engine, if you will, that can easily be refueled by a small energy source for a limited amount of time before it needs to be shut down and rebooted,” Dr. Austin said, slowly twirling her right pointer finger in a circle.
“Alright, I’m following you so far.” Tony’s head was slightly moving along with the circular rotation of her finger.
“Now, in the case of our super soldiers here, imagine that engine, but amplified almost five hundred percent,” Dr. Austin began to rotate her finger faster and faster until it was a blur of movement. “The need for sleep is suppressed by the serum, since alertness is crucial in combat, so that reboot requirement is easier to put off. In order to keep this kind of engine going at the same speed and level of activity for prolonged periods, it would burn through a small snack, or a small source of energy, too quickly and would signal the driver of the car, if you will, that it needed more.”
“So you’re saying that something is making Bucky’s brain so active, and he’s burning through so much energy, that it’s manifesting as hunger to make sure he keeps up with what’s being expended?” Steve asked, his mouth slightly open in shock. “I mean, I always remember being hungry after mission strategy and planning meetings, but I just assumed it was because I was bored or had skipped a meal.”
Dr. Austin shook her head. “Nope. You were using your brain in overdrive, doing quick calculations and mission scenarios in your head to find the best possible plan of action, much faster than any normal human brain would be able to calculate. It makes you an excellent strategist, but that kind of brain power burns a lot of energy.”
Bucky snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “It makes sense. I was a good sniper when I was first in the Army during the war, but after Zola… after he injected me with that bastardized version of the serum… I could calculate trajectory angles and wind velocities and distances in my head in seconds, didn’t have to write them out to do the calculations. Didn’t even need a spotter anymore.”
Dr. Austin nodded. “Exactly. The serum allowed you extra mental acuity at the expense of more energy consumption.”
“But that doesn’t explain why Bucky’s brain is lit up like a psychedelic Christmas tree,” Tony said, gesturing to the laptop image. “Barnes obviously isn’t doing any kind of advanced calculus in his head right now.” Tony looked at Bucky. “You’re not right?” Bucky shook his head and Tony continued, “so why is his brain so active?”
“And that leads me to my theory about Y/N,” Dr. Austin said, standing up from her chair. “Follow me, gentlemen. And Sergeant Barnes,” he looked over and raised a brow as he trailed after her into the hallway, “please let me know if you feel any increased feelings of hunger or exhaustion. The effects might come on quickly, so please let me know if, or when, you feel anything.”
Bucky nodded, and looked over to where Steve was walking to his right. Thanks to their childhood friendship, Steve could always see anxiety and nervousness in Bucky even when he tried to hide it, like when he saw Bucky off the morning he shipped off to Europe. Bucky kept his face stoic, but when Steve hugged him goodbye, Bucky was practically trembling under the Army-hardened mask he had worn then.
Steve reached over and clasped a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of reassurance.
The doctor led them down several hallways, until they reached another wing of the military hospital which held secure patient rooms that could be locked down if necessary, whether due to outbursts of violence due to psychological issues from recovering soldiers or to hold prisoners who had been injured and needed medical intervention. Dr. Austin stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and gestured to the one-way mirror in front of her.
“Gentlemen, meet Y/N Y/L/N.”
The three men stepped closer and looked into the room, all eyes frozen on the figure sitting upright in the hospital bed. Y/N had shoved herself in the farthest possible corner of the bed, her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs. The photo in her file, and even the video of her they’d seen looked nothing like the woman before them. She looked almost emaciated, her skin a sickly pale that was almost translucent, and her stringy grease matted hair twitched slightly as her body trembled.
“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “She… she looks like those prisoners… the ones—”
Bucky swallowed and nodded. “From Natzweiler, yeah, I remember.” Bucky took a deep breath, fighting against the telltale tingle in his mind of a long since forgotten memory beginning to rise up like a wave. “Doc… is she eating?”
“She was when she first got here, but only if the food was left for her after she passed out from exhaustion,” Dr. Austin explained. “Now, ever since things have escalated, she rips out her IV’s, pulls out NG tubes, and refuses any food we bring her. I’m not going to sedate her just because it’ll make it easier to feed her, we haven’t reached that level of intervention yet, but we’re getting close. She told one of our staff yesterday, in Russian, that she was not going to eat any of our poisoned food, that she wasn’t some kind of lab experiment and that we were animals for not just shooting her in the head to get it over with.”
All of the air in Bucky’s lungs came out in one hard breath like he’d been punched in the chest, and he had to brace himself against the windowsill to keep his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”
“Bucky?” Steve gasped at Bucky’s sudden weakness, grabbing onto his friend’s arm and placing a gentle hand on his back. ”What? Are you feeling the stuff Dr. Austin mentioned?”
Bucky grit his teeth and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memory fragments bombarding him. “No, I’m… I don’t know, maybe? I just… she’s…” Bucky’s thoughts were so jumbled he could barely form a coherent sentence, even in his head. He made a choked off noise that sounded more like a sob before he lifted his head to look at Y/N. “She’s reliving my captivity with Hydra. This… this was after I was transferred from the facility the Russians held me in after they found me to the one where Zola did his experiments. They were, umm, they were testing the limits of the serum, trying to figure out what I could survive.”
Steve’s face dropped and he took a sharp breath in. Bucky’s captivity and torture was not something he talked about often outside his therapy sessions. Steve only knew a handful of stories, ones that had come directly from Bucky’s mouth, and even then they were very hard stories for him to tell—lots of starting and stopping, frequent breaks, and plenty of tears. But here, with two extra people with him, and one being a stranger?
“Buck, you don’t have to talk about it,” Steve whispered.
“No, I need… she said exactly what I said to the guards who brought me food one day.” Bucky swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against the painted metal of the windowsill, the cold against his flesh hand grounding him. “They were testing different poisons and how the serum would fight it off… arsenic, ricin, even different kinds of snake and spider venom. I had seizures, strokes, and my heart stopped so many times I lost count.”
“Fucking hell,” Tony murmured, leaning against the wall behind them, his face a few shades paler than it was ten minutes ago. “Y/N is reliving your memories, reliving your life.”
“We need to find a way to pull her out of this,” Bucky said, straightening up with determination even though his bones felt like liquid and his mind was full of numbing static. If Y/N was reliving his life, even if it didn’t seem like the moments were in order, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would experience how the Winter Soldier was born, how he was forged, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
Dr. Austin nodded and looked back at her patient through the glass. “If my theory is correct, which I believe it is based on your shared memories and brain scans, Y/N’s mind has somehow melded with yours. And your memories, powered by your mind’s energy, have somehow taken over hers, suppressing her personality completely. I don’t know if it was some kind of dormant mutant ability that was activated by the trauma of her captivity and torture, or something else… but there is obviously some kind of link between the two of you that we don’t have the technology to test for and verify. You’re essentially feeding her your memories, which is why your brain is lit up like that and why you’re expending so much energy.”
“It’s like she’s stuck inside one of Stark’s virtual reality headsets and can’t take it off, experiencing everything I went through while my brain keeps playing her different…” Bucky trailed off and his eyes widened before his head snapped to look at Y/N through the glass.
In a flash of movement, Bucky grabbed Dr. Austin’s ID badge from where it was clipped onto her white coat and darted for the door to Y/N’s room, scanning the badge so the door opened with a green light and soft click. Bucky, ignoring the shouts of his name and hands trying to grab at him to pull him back, opened the door and shut it firmly behind him, engaging the door’s auto-lock safety feature that he knows secure wings of hospitals have. The group outside would need to find another ID badge to get in, which would buy him some time.
Y/N’s wide and terrified eyes settled on him, and she tilted her head in an almost confused dog-like fashion, her eyes softening with an air of familiarity. Bucky could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach turn into sharp cramps that almost made him double over, and there was a soft circle of darkness starting to creep in around his vision.
Bucky took three large steps forward, and even though she flinched away at his sudden movement, Y/N didn’t scramble away to try and avoid his hands as he lifted them. Her weary bloodshot eyes were full of unshed tears, and the closer Bucky’s hands got to her face, the more she began to tremble.
“You’re safe,” he whispered to her in Russian, before repeating the same sentiment in English.
The moment his fingers, both flesh and metal, touched the skin on either side of her face, it felt like he was on the wrong side of an attack from Thor’s hammer. Whatever weakness and hunger he’d been feeling was burned out of his body at the sheer shock cascading through his entire being. It didn’t hurt, but it was bordering on wildly uncomfortable, and Bucky was afraid he’d never be able to let go, his hands stuck to Y/N like a magnet.
There was something different passing between them, more than what touch alone could provide. Trying to understand everything that was happening was overwhelming, but when Bucky focused, he could almost feel Y/N inside his mind, like another whisper of a presence, a ghost in his consciousness. When he reached out in his head for her where he’d felt the ghost of her presence, he was assaulted with bursts of memories he knew were not his own, images of unfamiliar people, places, and things flashing in his mind like photographs. Bucky's curiosity was almost childlike, awestruck and trying to understand what his brain was comprehending, sorting through what Y/N was showing him.
The more information Bucky absorbed, the darker each memory became until it felt like he was wading through molasses, each image being harder and harder to move past. A hoarse whisper of “No” echoed in his mind, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was his own voice or Y/N’s.
A solid arm wrapped around Bucky’s middle, one much more firm than human flesh would be, and pulled him backward until his hands dropped from Y/N’s face, breaking whatever connection had refused to release him when he’d touched her. Reality came rushing back, and the room and people around him flashed into existence, the change in environment and sound disorienting him and leaving him panting for breath, his knees wobbling.
“She…” Bucky looked over at Y/N, who was just as distressed, and watched her collapse onto the bed, unconscious, before his vision blacked out and darkness took him as well.
***
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