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wesstars · 1 year

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heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear.

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing.

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park.

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss.

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron.

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you.

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips.

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow.

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind.

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet.

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.”

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side.

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver.

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping.

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver.

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping.

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday.

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips.

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you.

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you.

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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luetta · 2 months

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i'm going back to what 16 year old me used to do in full swing i think. type to myself on dead forums. wanna know a story about me? i used to post on that nazi reddit alternative website voat. for years. not anything political, i just made a subreddit that was my username and made posts everyday about how obsessed i was about a girl called rebekah in the grade above me. i never talked to her a single time in my life. she was just pretty. hundreds of posts. eventually randoms on the website found my posts through the new section and started commenting how creepy i was. and then i guess i referred to myself as a waitress and they started thinking i was a girl who had a lesbian crush. of course i did nothing to disavow that notion. and then when i was with my friend finlay in class, i was on a school provided laptop, seeing what the suggested autocomplete web searches for a, b, c, etc were. and when i looked up 'v' it came up with 'voat [my username]. i guess on this laptop sometime before i had searched it up. i begged him not to look it up and deleted it all the moment i got home but he just went on internet archive and essentially held this blackmail over my head for about 3 months. at the end of high school finlay wasnt popualr in our group (there was always someone who was the cyberbullied person of the day in our group.) and i honestly did a fucking asshole thing. i always say that i was nice and just a victim of this mean group but i did this thing, which completely undoes all that. there was a barbeque for the entire grade on a saturday, school organised but essentually our own thing. in the discord finlay was wondering whether to come, lots of us were there already. i said that there was barely anyone here lol. and that was a complete lie. i lied and made him miss this event for no reason other than to dogpile on him. that night everyone was fighting and i chimed in and he told everyone about my voat account and also about how we had accidentally discovered each other in a league of legends erotic roleplay discord server. so yeah that was fun. i refused to talk to him for like 2 years lol. anyways. the point of this is to say. that im gonna start doing that again i think. post a bunch of stream of consciousness text posts of angst and self loathing and envy and hatred. cus i feel like shit and that's my self harm. im too much of a pussy to do anything else when i feel like shit. i just sit on the computer and make myself feel worse. this can be my self therapy. getting my thoughts out instead of letting them fester inside my brain forever. i can't be fucked going to therapy properly. it doesnt help cus idk how to articulate anything properly. ill get asked whats wrong and ill be like. i dont know. and honestly thats barely a lie. i dont fucking know whats wrong with me. i know that there is something wrong with me, but i dont know the reason why ive turned out like this. im just a fucking weirdo i think. i literally thought that i wasnt a creep anymore after transitioning, that i figured it out. but nope. im still a fucking creep, thinking about girls that i know, obsessing about them. urgh. i feel like. i've fucked my transition up. i fucked up the choices that i didn't know were choices and now im someone i don't want to be. i just want to be someone else but thats not possible because the person that i am, currently, isn't someone that can be someone else. i know that you can just change who you are ! you can do new things and stop doing old things. you can be someone else. but i just cant. i try but i just always circle back to this. uninteresting blob of a person. who does nothing except sit in their room and wish they were someone else. an uninteresting blob of envy. that's all i am and will ever be, i feel. and that sucks. i dont want to be that, but there's nothing else i can do about that. im too uninteresting and unadventurous and afraid to reach out and form connections to people that i wanna. cus thats how you change as a person. by being with other people. you slowly give each other parts of yourself

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golbrocklovely · 2 years

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revenge of the nerd // sam golbach (pt. 2)

A/N: this took forever for me to write, but it was so fun to write when i finally got started lol nerdy sam just does something to me, much like brunette sam. anyway, tell me what you think about this part two. maybe i'll make a part three if yall want it ;) enjoy

prompt: stacy hates admitting it, but sam got under her skin. and now, she needs him more than ever. || fem OC x sam golbach

trigger warning: SMUT dear lord it's smutty, drinking/partying scene, cursing, popular!OC, a little bit less over the top than last time tho lol, sam is a “nerd” still, degradation, slut mentions thru the roof, baby girl/good girl/whore mentions, no condom sex, possible dubcon??, just be aware if that's not something you're interested in reading

word count: 3003

~~~~~~~~~~

“You have no idea how badly I need this party tonight.” I sighed, taking a huge gulp of my drink.

Heather raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you okay? You've been wound up ever since that party like two weeks ago.”

“I've just had a lot on my mind, and all I want to do is relax.” I huffed.

Heather smirked, “It wouldn't have anything to do with that Sam guy you got paired up with fo-”

“No!” I screeched suddenly, clearing my throat right after. “No. I-It has nothing to do with him.”

She put her hands up defensively, “Okay, just checking. I'll be right back.”

I nodded my head, turning away and rolling my eyes as I downed my drink. I can't believe she would bring up Sam.

Ugh, even the sound of his name pissed me off.

I hated to even admit it, but Sam got under my skin. For the past two weeks he had been all I can think about anymore. And what doesn't help is the boys that I usually used for my "distraction" weren't able to distract me. Or get me off.

And then when I would try to… alleviate myself, all I could think about was him.

I was sexually frustrated, and it was all because Sam left me high and dry.

Fucking nerd.

And what's worse is I don't even know if I'll ever see him again. I wanted to tease him, to make him feel as sexually frustrated as I was. That's the least of what he deserved. But I had no way to reach out to him. Not to mention, I didn't want him thinking I was crawling back to him.

If I get the chance to, he'll pay for how he made me feel that night.

I stomped through the house, trying to see where Heather went off to. I glanced around the living room, trying to find her. But my eyes landed on someone else.

Sam. Sitting with a girl. Obviously flirting.

My stomach dropped at the sight of him. He was dressed in a similar style like before. He took a sip from his solo cup, his eyes looking up and down at the girl he was talking to.

Should I go over to him? Oh my God no! What am I saying?

I watched as the girl slid her hand onto his leg, laughing at something he said. Then suddenly, his eyes gazed over at me.

I stumbled back, his icy blue look taking me by surprised. I immediately turned around and headed for the kitchen, praying that he didn't notice me staring.

Dear God, I'm just as pathetic as him. This is the absolute worst.

I needed to pour myself a new drink. I shoved past the random people blocking my way. I groaned as I made it to the sink, grabbing a new cup and making a quick vodka soda.

Maybe I could find Jared and see if he's not busy and then I-

Someone interrupted my thoughts. “Hey Stacy.”

I turned around to see who was calling me, only to almost spit out my drink.

Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!?! “Hi.”

“So, crazy seeing you around. Didn't know you partied at the Delta Nu house.” Sam commented.

“Yeah, I come here often.” I replied dryly, keeping my back towards him.

“So, how have you been?” He asked.

“Okay. You?” I deadpanned.

He hummed. “Same.”

There was a long pause from him, and I prayed that he had left.

“Could you make me a drink real quick?” He placed his cup next to me, keeping his distance.

I rolled my eyes. “Can't you make it yourself?”

“Well, you're right by the alcohol, so I figured you could just pour me some.” He responded coolly.

“Fine.” I grabbed his cup from the counter, taking the vodka and pouring some into his cup. I heard someone from behind say excuse me; and all of a sudden, a warm body was up against mine.

“What the fuck?” I jeered, turning my head to Sam.

“Sorry, I was taking up space.” He apologized.

I whined angrily. “And you couldn't just move to the other side?”

Sam shook his head. “Nope. He kinda shoved me this way.”

“Well can you back up now?” I questioned, lightly pushing against him to make him move.

He didn’t budge. He kept his body against mine. “I highly doubt you want that.”

“I don't want you fucking close to me.” I barked.

Sam chuckled, his voice lowering. "Are you still upset about the other party?"

"What's there for me to be upset about? Honestly I was super drunk, so I don't really remember most of it." I smirked, turning to look at him.

“Oh… I think there was something about us getting put into a closet together and making a bet that I couldn't turn you on... And you lost.” He uttered into my ear.

I ignored the rush of nerves that washed over me as his breath fanned across my neck. “Weird. Don't remember that.”

“Right. So, you're not upset that I didn't get you off? That I didn't fuck you?” He whispered, his smile mocking.

“No. Besides I ended up sleeping with Jared that night. And then Ryan the next day.” I shot back.

He nodded. “I heard. Jared and Ryan like to brag.”

“Well, they are fantastic lovers. And so am I. Too bad you won't find that out.” I quipped.

“Is that so?” He questioned.

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to hide my pounding heart. “Here's your vodka soda. Are you gonna leave me alone now?”

"Just one more question," Sam took swig of his drink, pressing himself even more into me, my body flush against the counter. I felt heat spread across my skin, and I tried not to shiver as he pressed his mouth close to my ear. "Did they make you feel as good as I did?”

“Even better. T-B-H, I really don't even remember our time in the closet. I was hella drunk.” I stated.

He exhaled, amused. “You already said that.”

I felt Sam's hand rest against thigh, just right under my skirt. Then casually, he began to move it up, inch by inch. I gasped at the cool feeling of his hand against my warm skin. His finger had just reached the very beginning of my skirt when I realized what was happening.

"What the hell are you-?!" I whispered aggressively, grabbing his hand and stopping him. I glared at him over my shoulder. "There's too many people around for you to be doing that."

“That's the problem with you popular people. You think everyone is always paying attention to you. You think all eyes are on you. In reality, no one cares. No one is looking at you... besides me.” Sam argued.

I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of wondering if he was right, so I stared straight forward, my eyes boring into the glass cabinet in front of me.

He continued, his lips pressed against my ear. “I could literally yank your skirt up, rip your panties off, and fuck you against this counter, and no one would even glance at you. They would only notice what we were doing when you start screaming my name.”

I scoffed, “Like I would ever scream your name. I've never screamed anyone's name.”

“Then I guess Ryan and Jared aren't that good at sex.” He remarked.

“They're definitely better than you. You don't even have that effect on me.” I swallowed hard, knowing it was a lie.

Sam hummed against my neck. I could tell from the purse of his lips he was smirking. In an instant, he slid his hand up the rest of my skirt, cupping my sex and pressing my wet panties against my clit. I shuddered, my eyes widening as my hand fell from his and gripped the counter.

Sam murmured, “I beg to differ.”

I hadn't even realized how wet I had gotten, my mind completely fogged by Sam's presence.

Fuck, this is not how things were supposed to go.

“I've thought about you every night since that party.” He confessed.

I bit my lip, “Of course you have.”

“I even slept with other girls, thinking that maybe that would help. But it didn't. No girl is quite like you.” He kissed my neck gently, my back arching against him, “No girl feels the same as you. No girl is as wet as you.”

I couldn't even reply, the pressure he was applying to my clit made my eyes roll back. I needed more, and my hips started moving against him.

“Oh baby...” Sam kissed my neck sweetly, cooing. “Are you sexually frustrated? Did I do that to you?”

“Yes. W-wait no. No, I-I'm not.” I stuttered.

“Then why are you fucking my hand?” He queried innocently.

My eyes popped open at his words, glancing down and realizing I was grinding against his hand. I ripped his hand away, spinning around, and shoving his chest. He smacked back into the island in the middle of the kitchen, a look of surprise on his face.

I reared back and slapped him across the face. Only a couple people around us noticed, their expressions shocked.

I stumbled up to Sam, my face close to his. His eyes glared daggers at me, like somehow, I was in the wrong.

What an asshole!

“Either fuck me right now, or leave me alone Sam. Your choice.” I hissed.

He sucked his teeth, looking my body up and down, and grunting, "Fine."

Sam snatched my wrist and pulled me through the party quickly. He rushed us up the stairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

He pushed me up against the door, forcing my hands into his. He brushed his mouth across my chest and up my neck until finally pressing against my mouth. The kiss was deep, and I struggled to get my hands free from him.

I wanted to smack him again, but I also wanted to rip his clothes off. I couldn't pretend to not want him any longer. I needed him to fuck me.

I was able to rip my hands away from him, gripping onto his button up shirt and pulling him closer. His tongue pushed deep into my mouth as he lifted one of my legs, wrapping it around his hip. He grinded his hips against mine, my body arching into him.

I slid my hands down his body, unbutton his shirt as fast as I could. When most of the buttons were off, I reached down for his belt and tried to unbuckle it.

He moved my hands away, “I got it, baby. Take your clothes off for me.”

I bit my lip, yanking my halter top over my head. I pulled my skirt down and watched as he took off his shirt and unzipped his pants. His body was really toned, a light wash of hair adorned his chest.

“Wow, you look really good for a nerd.” I joked.

He blinked, “Get against the counter.”

I placed myself against the counter, facing him. He gazed down my body, his eyes lingering on my naked breasts. Then he spun me around, making me face the mirror. He pushed my body down into position, his hips lining up against my own. I could feel his hard cock against my ass, my slickness running down my thighs at the feeling.

His eyes met mine in the mirror, and then he let out a soft laugh. “You popular girl are so... full of it.”

“What?” I squinted at him.

“You think you're better than everyone else. Hell, you wouldn't even admit that I turned you on. But here you are, naked and dripping for a nerd.” Sam ran his hands down my body, tearing my panties off hastily. Then within seconds, he plunged his cock deep inside of me, my cunt already soaked for him.

I gasped loudly, “Oh my God!”

He kept his rhythm deep and sensual. “You like that? Does that feel good?”

“Y-yeah. Oh fuuuuckk.” I purred.

He groaned, “Fuck, you are such a slut.”

I whined, annoyed. “Wha-? N-No I'm not.”

Sam glared at me in the mirror, smacking my ass hard as he continued his thrusts. He lowered his lips down to my ear, growling, "I can already feel you clutching around my cock like you're gonna cum. I've barely fucked you for a minute. Of course you're a slut."

I hated how my body reacted to his words. I could feel my sex get even more slick around him.

I shouldn't like being called a slut, but it sounded so good coming out of his mouth.

"You think I didn't feel your pussy twitch when I called you a slut?” He tsked in my ear, biting it softly. “Look at yourself in the mirror. Watch me fuck you."

I glanced at our bodies in the mirror, barely able to keep my eyes open from the pleasure. I looked away for a moment, only to feel a swift smack against my ass again. I squeaked, my eyes widening at Sam's reflection.

"Look. At. Yourself." Sam pounded his hips with each word, going deeper than he was before. My eyes rolled in the back of my head, but finally I stared at myself in the mirror. My breasts swung with each of his heavy thrusts. There was a layer of sweat clinging to my skin, my hair was a mess, and I couldn't stop the ragged breaths flowing from my lips.

“Call yourself a slut.” He demanded.

I furrowed my brows at him, but his intense stare made my pussy clench around him. Fuck, he was so hot.

“I-I'm a slut.” I whimpered lowly.

Sam slammed into me, keeping himself deep, but stopping all of his movements. He pressed me into the counter, wrapping his arms around me. His hand reached up carelessly and grabbed my throat. My eyes widened, my hands grabbing onto him. The pressure from his hand made my whole body throb in ecstasy.

“Call yourself a slut again.” He ordered.

“I'm a slut.” I panted.

He bucked his hips into me hard. “Again.”

“I-I'm a slut.” I stammered.

"Good girl." He slid his hips back and slammed into me again, my body jolting against the counter. I whined pathetically, closing my eyes for a moment. "Call yourself a stuck-up bitch."

“I'm a stuck-up bitch.” I repeated desperately.

"So good, baby girl." Sam revved his hips back again, but this time he didn't move them. His tip teased my entrance, my legs shaking. "Beg me to fuck you."

My voice shook as I spoke, my eyes locking with his. “Please Sam, please. I-I need you so bad. Fuck, please Sam.”

“You can do better than that.” He sassed.

“Fuck! Sam, oh my God, fuck me! I'm so close to cumming, please! I need you. I need to come! Please fuck me. Pleeeeaaassee.” I sobbed, my nails digging into his skin. I even tried to move my body against his, but he had me pressed so tightly between him and the counter.

He smirked, leaning in to kiss my cheek sweetly. Then his one hand moved back down to my hips, the other sliding from around my neck and to the back of my head, pushing me down towards the counter.

Then he thrusted into my aching cunt again, his pace so much faster than before. I sounded like a porn star against the sink, crying out with pleasure.

“What are you, baby girl?” He asked, grunting.

"I'm a slut!" I wailed automatically.

"You're not gonna be that for anyone else anymore, you hear me? You're my slut now." He bucked his hips into mine wildly.

“I-I'm your slut.” I whispered, liking the sound of it.

“That's right, baby. You'll only be that for me. You're mine now. My. Little. Slut.” Sam moaned harshly, spanking my ass.

I shrieked, “Oh fuck Sam!”

“Do you like that? Do you like the idea of me fucking you whenever I want to? Keeping you needy for my cock?” He snarled against my skin, his cock hitting deeper as he lowered himself to me.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” I chanted, my mind going blank with pleasure.

"Of course, because you're a slut and that's all you can think of. All you want is my cock now. That's all you need!" He grunted, tugging on my hair.

I choked, “I'm getting so close. Please go harder, Sam!”

“Fuck baby, don't you dare come yet. Not until I say so.” He commanded.

He pounded into me over and over again, his hands gripping my hips hard. My hands cupped my breasts, squeezing and playing with them in time with Sam’s thrusts.

He placed two fingers in front of my face. “Suck on my fingers, slut.”

My mouth wrapped around his fingers, moaning at the feeling. He fucked my mouth in the same rhythm as his hips, my eyes lulling back as my cunt pulsated.

"God, I can't wait to use that whore mouth of yours,” he groaned. “Not tonight, but sometime soon."

He popped his fingers out of my mouth, lowering them down to my sex. He rubbed circles into my clit, my knees almost buckling.

I exclaimed, bouncing on his cock as fast as I could, “Fuck! I'm about to come Sam. Please let me come! Please!”

“I'm right there too, baby. Fuck, squeeze around me! Yes! Fuck! Come for me, slut! Do it.” He yelled.

My body exploded in ecstasy; my hips ravaged Sam's cock as he hit his edge. I screamed out passionately as I clenched around him, his cum filling me up deeply. Sam let out low, dark groans as he finished inside me, his hips finally stopping their movements. I could barely catch my breath as my body laid against the counter, the cool feeling calming my overheated skin.

<< PART 1 ||

#sam golbach #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fic #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x oc #sam golbach oneshot #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach story

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Peculiar and Beautiful // Victoria De Angelis

words // 1333

warnings // angsty but also fluffy

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know besties, don't forget the 'sleepover' on sunday (yes i'll be saying it on every fucking post lol) and yeah, that. also, a little complaining moment from me, im currently in sooooo much pain, my tooth hurts, i got neuralgia on a tooth and ljajakjfa so if this seems high to you it means im on meds for that lol unlucky few days anywaaaays enjoy to revive yourselves from the teasers of iwbys video

request // yes, here

summary // Reader finds themself in a emotional rut. A few comments online, the constant youtube recommendations on how to be “perfect” have been making them feel some type of way, hiding away from the one person that can help them; Victoria

It was a consistent thing and that was the issue. The comments about what Victoria did and did not deserve, who she should be with, the constant shipping with Damiano… And then there were the absolutely random videos on youtube, indirectly telling them what and who they should become, at least according to all those people online. It took less than expected to cave into the vicious lies surrounding their daily life. Although they tried to take control over the situation the absence of Victoria did nothing to improve the rut they were in at the moment.

Her presence tends to be a reassuring thing to her lover. Words need not be spoken, all problems can be hidden, but the moment they look each other in the eye everything is resolved. Understandably, Victoria missing from the equation in the moment made matters far worse than Y/N could imagine.

The self depreciation came in waves. At first it was that they looked “off” next to Victoria, as if for some reason they didn’t please the eye aesthetically when together. It was a comment that was shared around a lot. They did not believe it at first until their brain led them into looking through all the couple’s photos… Maybe they are right, they would mumble before closing the phone and continuing their work.

After that stage came the personal attack. Why don’t I look good next to her? Must be my looks. Agh, if I didn’t look like that… Whenever they passed through a mirror or reflective surface they’d stare at themselves to see how they looked, whether they looked bad or decent. Never gave enough credit to themselves, sometimes not even believing Victoria when mentioning the beauty she was lucky enough to hold in her arms. Always something about being independent and not needing anyone to make them feel valuable due to their looks. Simple and plain stubbornness.

Victoria took not too long to notice how something was off with her lover. At first, she gave not too much attention to it, knowing how both missed each other and knowing how tired they were from work. But, as days passed by she could simply not ignore the situation anymore. She first saw something was off when talking to Y/N on the phone, seeing how they did not exactly respond to her jokes and comments as they usually would. Again, she wrote it off as tiredness, missing her, just as she missed them but it was far more than that. After a while they started cancelling some of their facetime call time, saying different things about having bad days at work and, although, she believed them does not mean she was not worried out of her mind. The more that kept happening the more Victoria kept stressing. Not few were the times she’d end up falling onto Damiano’s bed and almost crying with worry.

“Why don’t you tell them to take some time off? Reckon they said their boss owes them some time off work.” And he was right. The answer to the pair’s misery was there all along and she simply had not seen it.

Victoria wasted no time, rushing to get to her phone and arrange everything. Surprisingly enough, dealing with Y/N’s boss turned out to be the easier part of the whole ordeal. The real struggle coming to persuading them about it.

“Oh come one, cucciolo, I know you want to see me-”

“I do want to Victoria, but I can not. I have work.” Lies, lies, lies. They knew they were lying, work wasn’t their trouble in the moment.

“Dealt with! You have a few days of work. Your boss was surprisingly real nice about it.” They could practically hear the smile the beautiful woman wore on her face but they could not keep their response at bay.

“What?! What did you do?!”

“You sound unhappy…”

“I am not, but Victoria why did you do this before talking to me?”

“Because…” she sighed.

“You are tired, I miss you and you are stubborn. Plus, I wanted to surprise you. I thought it’s be a good surprise... Am I wrong?”

“No, no! It’s great. When is the ticket for?” Everyone knows Y/N can never say no to Victoria, even the girl knows of her partner’s weakness, targeting it with her adorableness at times in order to get them to do something like buy her fries or in this case take a break. But Y/N was not worried about Victoria’s influence on them, or rather not that influence. They were out of this world worried about how little time it was going to take Vic to see their insecurities, maybe she’d even agree with them, they thought.

The first night of being by Vic was pretty normal, just as it was back at home, full of cuddles and kisses and all the children shows and movies playing in the background while the bassist recited all her adventures to her lover.

“And Thomas just felt face first onto the pavement! Can you believe it?!” Y/N laughed lightly, eyes fluttering in an attempt to focus on the woman in front of them and head lazily hang on the pillow by the headboard.

“Are you feeling alright, amore?” She asked, voice soft as she caressed the other person’s cheek.

“Yes, love, just a bit tired.”

“It’s alright, let’s sleep. You had a tiring flight, I get it.” Y/N simply mumbled a thank you, kissing the blonde’s forehead before pulling her close in order to sleep.

Unfortunately, the momentary bliss did not last long. After being seen together people started talking and Y/N returned to the previous thought pattern, this time getting deeper into their insecurities. They felt like they were not enough for Victoria so, while trying to not be suspicious they started distancing themselves from her. They would avoid kisses, get away way to soon for both their liking, sleep early, sleep-in… No matter what they stayed away from too much interaction with Victoria, and she was getting sick of it.

Finding them walking down the hallway from the stairs to their hotel room, Victoria rushed to her partner, making sure to get in the room with them quickly, before they had the chance to hide away - again.

“You are ignoring me,” she simply stated, voice stern but never elevated.

“O-of course not, what are you on about?!” Voice was trembling and eyes were looking everywhere but the exasperated blonde.

“Yes -agh- yes you are! You were all over me when you came here, which I’m not complaining about, and then the next day you all but slept in the tab to avoid me! What is going on, Y/N?” The use of their name might have stung just a little bit, enough to make them talk. They always got worried when Victoria went all first name basis rather than cute pet names.

“I-” they hesitated for a second but the strict look on the woman’s face made them continue.

“People talk, Victoria.”

“About what? What does-”

“About us and you and me… It’s always how I am not a good fit and other things like that and maybe they are right.”

“You don’t seriously believe that, do you?”

“Of course I believe that! Look at you, Vic, you are perfect and me? Well, I am me.”

“And that’s exactly why we are together. Because you are you! Y/N, you being who you are is why I fell for you. Your little quirks, those strong characteristics you get insecure about are literally what make you who you are, that individualize you.”

“Really?” They asked with hesitation, fearing the chance of her lying.

“Of course, cucciolo. I love those things that make you different. Reminds me that there is no other one like you and it simply makes me longing for you more,” she praised while leaving kisses all over their neck.

“I simply love you.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina

#måneskin #måneskin fanfic #måneskin imagine #maneskin imagine #maneskin fanfiction #victoria de angelis imagine #victoria de angelis

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daegall · 3 years

Text

Twitterpated

↳ to feel in love/love-struck

pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Genre: fluff... uh... overall fluff 🤧

Warnings: mentions of death and a dead body (but nobody's dead), swearing (?)

Word count: 3.7k words

A/n: AYO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR SUN <3333 OUR BBY <33333 LOL I PROBABLY WONT BE HERE WHEN ITS ACTUALLY HIS BIRTHDAY SINCE ITS LITERALLY A DAY BEFOR EMY FINALS START 💀💀 SO ITS ON SCHEDULE </33

ANYWAYS YEAH HAPPY BIRTHDAY DONGHYUCK!!

alsooo this is part of the first collab made by @renhyucks (thanks bby <33) please do enjoy, and do not hesitate to tell me if there are any spelling mistakes or anything bad i wrote!! thank you!!

(guess who's expert procrastinator and wrote like 50% of this a week before his birthday AND finals </3 thats right </33 finals too </33)

You’ve been bragging about your braggable boyfriend for around a year now, and now you’re worried if you’ve bragged about him too much.

Today is the day. Donghyuck is going to meet your family. After months of postponing and delaying, he’s coming home with you for Christmas, a very big deal for your family, it’s like a big present for them.

"Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Hyuck I’m gonna die. I’m screwed. Tell them I love them.”

You were clearly overreacting, it can never be that bad. Your boyfriend snorts, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you two make your way up the stairs. You wish something happens within the short span of time until you get to the door.

“Babe it can’t be that bad, you’ve told them lots about me, right?” You shoot Donghyuck a quick glare, before nodding a bit reluctantly, “I think a bit too much though.” To your dismay there are no people around to stop you, nobody to stop and postpone the meeting for. Darn Christmas holidays. “Do you think they won’t like me?”

This time, it’s you who lets out a quick laugh, “No, they will love you. They’re gonna tell you all my embarrassing stories and phases in my life. Oh my god no, no no no, you can’t know. Let’s turn around, yeah?” Donghyuck ruffles your hair playfully with a shake of his head. “Really? But we’re already here! And I see your brother by the window there.”

You instantly light up when you see Sungchan’s familiar bright smile, laughing affectionately when he starts to jump up and down and yell something. Once you get in front of the door, you can finally hear what he’s been yelling, “JAEHYUN HYUNGGGG!!!!! THEY’RE HERE THEY’RE HERE!!!”

You don’t even have to knock on the door, it already swings open to reveal both your brothers with bright smiles on their faces, bright smiles that brightens up your own. “NOONA!” Sungchan rushed up to you and instantly wraps his arms around your waist, giggling into your chest as you embrace him back just as tightly.

He then turns to your boyfriend, with even lighter eyes, and to your surprise, he gives Donghyuck a hug as well, “It’s nice to finally meet you!” Donghyuck stumbles back a bit and is definitely startled, but eventually he becomes soft and wraps his arms around your brother with a small smile. “Y/n’s told me lots about you,”

Sungchan pulls away enthusiastically, jumping up and down, “Wait! Let me go get mom!” And in an instant later, he’s dashed into his house yelling out for his mother. Your eldest brother, Jaehyun, smiles brightly at the sight of Donghyuck tugging nervously at your hands, a light chuckle leaving his lips gloriously.

He walks up to you, and you spread your arms out for a hug, but all that happens is your hair you spent 20 minutes on getting ruined by him ruffling his hand through it. “Nice to see you’ve finally got it together and got a nice boyfriend, twerp.”

“G-good? I’ve always had taste, Jeffery!” You scowl and push your brother’s hand away from your hair, huffing and shaking your head to fix the messy mop of strands. Jaehyun then turns to Donghyuck, his eyes practically shining with stars when your boyfriend bows politely.

Jaehyun nudges at your shoulder, “Wow, you’ve got a good one.” He snickers when you groan and swat him away once again, before turning back to Donghyuck with the same smile as before. To your boyfriend’s shock, and definitely to yours, Jaehyun leans down to give Donghyuck a brotherly hug, almsot melting into his embrace. What is up with your brothers today?

Christmas music can be heard softly from in the house, and despite being outside you can hear Sungchan beckoning your mother to go outside to see you and Donghyuck. It warms your heart, it feels so raw, and it’s even better with Donghyuck by your side. Jaehyun quickly lets your boyfriend go, when your mother’s voice rings out nostalgically and warmly greeting you with a warm smile, “Y/n! How are you dear?”

You run into her arms with no hesitation, feeling especially excited after so many months of missing her. The feeling of home rushes over your senses at your mother’s familiar embrace, sighing when she clings harder and sways side to side. A delightful smile curls your lips upward as you mumble a small response, “I missed you so much,”

The second she pulls away she’s patting your cheek softly, chuckling, before she notices Donghyuck behind you. His nervosity is so intense that all your family members can sense it wherever you are, and you find it frankly funny. His eyes are practically shaking when your mom approaches him with slow movements. Sure, they’ve met through facetime, but that’s nothing compared to a face-to-face encounter.

A cheeky smile creeps up to your cheeks when your mother stretches out to grab ahold of Donghyuck’s hands, holding them gently. (you assume it’s because of how much they’ve been shaking) “It’s nice to meet you in person, Donghyuck-ah,”

At her soft words, you notice Donghyuck slightly melt in relief and comfort, his smile growing 2 times bigger, “Y/n’s told me so much about your family,”

Beside you, Sungchan tugs at your hand, “Let’s go inside, mom and I made cookies!”

Indeed, they made cookies. They made great cookies.

Donghyuck hums loudly in bliss the moment he bites into a freshly baked cookie, closing his eyes and leaning onto you, “You should learn to bake like Sungchannie, Y/n,”

From deep in the kitchen, you hear your little brother snort loudly, “I would teach her for free Hyung, trust me.”

A scowl is the only response from you, as you munch harshly on the (delicious, but you wouldn’t admit it) cookie and shrug Donghyuck off your shoulder. Your boyfriend cackles out at your pettiness, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you close to him.

You can’t stop the smile from spreading through your face when he tries to nudge another cookie at your lips, the ‘say aaa’s he says right by your ears resonating through your head. With a glance at the cute expression on his face, a light laugh falls from your lips, and you open your mouth to take a bite.

“They’ve been here for 15 minutes and are already all over each other.” At Jaehyun’s comment, you give him a dirty look and finish yet another cookie you stole from the fresh batch. “Hey! You were even worse with that random girl last year! Where is she now, Jae??”

Your older brother chuckles, walking over to help Sungchan and make sure he doesn’t burn himself, “She’s spending Christmas with her family this year.” You turn away from his teasing gaze with your head high up in the air, eyes shut in fake arrogance, “It’s your turn to suffer from the lovey-dovey stuff now.” (Sungchan grimaces in the corner, pulling his mittens off harshly, “When’s it not my turn?”)

“At least mom’s happy I brought Donghyuck home.”

“I’m happy you brought a good one this year, unlike the one 5 years ago,”

“THAT WAS A HIGH SCHOOL FLING! MY TASTE WAS BAD BACK THEN!”

Donghyuck chuckles and leans on the counter, resting his head on his hand as he gazes at your family argument, “Glad you don’t think I’m bad,” When you glance at him, and the soft look he has, you look away, flustered, “Hyuck you’re like.... my first good boyfriend.” Your voice grows quieter towards the end of the sentence, and suddenly you feel so flustered for some reason. The soft Christmas music fills the silence, and you grow even more embarrassed.

You turn your head cautiously to see the reactions of each of your loved ones, surprised to see a warm look in each of their eyes, as if they’ve seen a puppy tumble and get right back up. Your mother bites her lip to contain the squeals when you make eye contact with your boyfriend, choosing to continue her cookie work and look away when you shift in sheepishness and try to act nonchalant.

Sungchan decides to break the tension, placing the last batch of cookies in a jar, “Speaking of boyfriends, Shotaro’s brother is bringing his boyfriend when they come to visit.” Donghyuck breaks away from the sudden daze of love he had, turning to Sungchan with interest, “Really? So how many people are we expecting?”

“Around 3 more people,” Your little brother replies, “More if Sicheng hyung invited his Chinese friends as well.”

“Wow Sungchan, you’re quite the popular one aren’t you?” Sungchan smiles smugly at the sudden boast, proudly nodding as he tries to shrug cooly. You appreciate Donghyuck complimenting him, it’s not everyday your boyfriend gets along with your family, and definitely not always when Jaehyun greets him with a hug.

The next day, you wake up late (as usual after a movie night), and you go downstairs only to see your older brother and boyfriend eating their breakfasts next to each other on the couch as they watch yet another Christmas movies and talk about something.

They acknowledge you, but don't bother stopping anything to talk to you. You're glad they do, you wouldn't understand anything they would say with such a hazy state of mind. Pulling out a carton of chocolate milk from a big pack (presumably Sungchan and Shotaro's), you trudge back to the living area and sit on Jaehyun's usual spot.

There's snow outside, you notice, it's pretty thick. You don't realize in your half-asleep form, but both men have stopped talking and are now staring at your sleepy form.

"Y/n, you should eat actual food, and not just drink chocolate milk."

The statement is unexpected, and all you to is stop sipping and look at Jaehyun with questioning eyes.

"He's right, go eat some cereal, boo."

Your face scrunches up at the sudden pet name he would never use on you, already standing up to obey his orders, "Since when did you call me boo? Also, where's mom and Sungchan?"

"Since now, boo. And mom and Sungchan are out getting Christmas gifts."

Your heart leaps at the fact that Donghyuck called your mother 'mom' so comfortable already, you wouldn't blame him after last night when she was especially paying close attention to him and taking care of him nicely. Not to mention the fact that she added and added to his plate instead of her own children's.

You hum back as a reply, pouring some coco pops in a bowl (both the cereal and bowl are Sungchan's), before pouring in a generous amount of milk into the bowl. You smile down at the nostalgic breakfast you used to eat everyday, when was the last time you had cereal?

Instead of joining back to the living room, you decide to eat on the counter, which is right by the window, and admire the twinkling snow covering the ground. You live in the city with Donghyuck, which doesn't have that much snow, but here outside the city, the snow is so beautiful and evident, you just want to sleep in it like it was a warm bed -except it wasn't warm at all.

Still a little bit asleep, you don't notice Jaehyun in the kitchen with you until he speaks up and startles you once again, "You wanna go outside and make snow angels like we used to?"

Your shock bubbles into excitement at the suggestion, quickly nodding with a big smile on your face.

"Then eat up quickly, I'll meet you outside."

He leaves you alone in the kitchen, yelling a 'we're gonna go play in the snow, you wanna come man?' to Donghyuck, to which he gets a 'fuck yeah!' in return.

And like that your bowl of cereal is in the sink, long abandoned by you, the you who is currently throwing on your padded jacket and slipping on some boots hurriedly. You can already hear the yells of it being so cold from your boyfriend, and the loud boyish laugh from your beloved brother on the other side of the door.

You can feel the excitement coursing through your veins, it feels good, you haven't felt like this in so long. You finally open the door, and step outside onto the cold snow. Just as a blissful smile reaches your lips, there's a struck of ice cold trickling down your neck and back.

You turn to find the culprit is no other than Lee Donghyuck himself, laughing along with Jaehyun at your shocked expression.

You don't even waste a second, you're instantly picking up a handful of snow and patting it in your hands securely and creating an imperfect, but firm snowball. With no hesitation, you launch it into the air with all your force, and to your utter delight it his Donghyuck straight at his chest.

"HAH! TAKE THAT!"

Your celebratory dance is short-lasted, as you know if you stayed in spot for too long you would be attacked as well. With playful laughs and taunts, you rush past the 2 men and behind the tree for (poor) protection.

You need to make snowballs, you need to make them quick. Gathering as much snow as you can in your hands, you squeeze hard only for a few seconds, before gently dropping the snowball and repeating this process for as much snowballs as you can muster. You can hear the faint discussion of your temporary rivals, the more shuffling in the snow gives you that feeling of thrill.

There's a spilt second of silence, no shuffling in the snow anymore, no whispers of which side which will take. The second, is of course, like every other second, short, before you hear yells and feel the coldness of the snow hit your skin like gunshots.

Dropping all your snowballs, you act like it was a gunshot, falling dramatically to the ground as you clutch your hands to your stomach, "I've been shot! I've been wounded! Jae, Hyuck, tell Sungchan and mom my will is all to them."

"What about us?"

You pant dramatically and point at them accusingly, "You fuckers get nothing." Your head rolls back to the snow, your hand falling over your stomach as you hold your breath.

A fake sniffle falls from Jaehyun's lips, and he kneels down next to your 'dead' form, "WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!" He takes your hand in his, "WHAT HAVE WE DOOONNNEEE!!",Your boyfriend slowly falls next to your as well, this time cradling your face in his hands, "We're monsters.... WE'RE MONSTERSSS!"

He flops right on top of you, burying your body deep in the snow, "WE'RE SORRY Y/N, WE'VE LET YOU DOWN! WE'VE FAILED YOUUU!" A smile cracks through your numb, icy face, and you let out a hearty chuckle at the small skit you've started.

"Okay, get off me I'm cold!"

"No! You said you wouldn't give us any of your will!"

"Wait no! I'm starting to feel numb! I'm sorry I swear you'll get a little bit!"

Donghyuck shuffles a bit, before he carries himself off your body. The tingling ice cold sensation of snow doesn't fade away, instead it becomes even sharper when Jaehyun splats a pile of snow on top of your head. He giggles cheekily and runs back into the house when you send him a glare, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the snow.

To your delight he has the decency to at least help you up from your seat on the ground, thoughtfully brushing away the snow on your shoulders, "I like your brother, he's very playful."

You give him a quick look, "Reminds you of someone?"

Donghyuck bumps your shoulder as he laughs, rushing past you towards the house, "Race you there!"

Yes, reminds you exactly of Donghyuck.

It wasn't long until Sungchan's Japanese friend and his brother came. Just 3 days after you and Donghyuck arrived. And just like your little brother mentioned, his Japanese friend's brother brought his boyfriend. His boyfriend's friends decided to turn down the offer, instead wanting to spend Christmas with their own families.

You clicked with them instantly, and it's no doubt your boyfriend did either.

"Taro! You have to see the new soccer shoes I got for my birthday!"

The said boy gapes, practical stars shining in his eyes, "Soccer shoes? Dude, you have to show me some moves in them!"

The two lads scatter off upstairs to Sungchan's room, where you could hear stomping and loud thuds. You remember the first time you caught Sungchan practicing soccer, it was when you had enough with the loud noises and went to complain, only to find your brother covered in sweat with a ball in his arms.

Ever since that day you would help him, whether it was saving up with Jaehyun to get him his first ever pair or driving him to soccer fields and accompany him as he played, you've grown used to all of it (and grown to love it as well).

Jaehyun comes in the room with the collection of Christmas movies he had stocked somewhere deep in his room, you wouldn't dare going in there. Last time he had even cleaned it up or even actually lived there, he was in his angsty teenage days. There was no way you would go in there.

"Okay, what do you guys want to watch?" He stops right in front of the TV with 5 DVD's in his hands, observing each one with contemplation. "We've got A Christmas Carol, Home Alone, Polar Express, Love under the-"

"Oh God, not Love under the Christmas table!"

You snicker at Sicheng's upset tone as he slumps in his seat, rolling his eyes, "Ten's forced me to watch it soooo many times. And it's so cheesy too!"

"Jae has it just because of his girlfriend~" Jaehyun groans at your words, pointing a finger at your face in betrayal, "You promised not to tell anyone!"

This is what you like about Christmas, getting back together with family and friends, it's affectionate moments like these that you miss. You miss teasing your brothers. But the fact if it happening so rarely and only 3-4 times a year makes it extra special when you do.

"Shotaro! Sungchan! We're gonna watch some movies, what do you guys want to watch?"

At the mention of a movie marathon, both young boys look at each other briefly, before somehow telepathically agreeing on racing to the couch. They land next to you with belly-flops and giggles, hitting at one another as they shift comfortably in their seats.

"How about A Charlie Brown Christmas?" Jaehyun suggests with a friendly smile, looking up to the two boys for their confirmation. You thought they would agree, even you would, but apparently they had different plans.

Shotaro deadpans at the childish option, "Are you serious? What's a Christmas movie night without starting with Polar Express? I swear you adults have no taste." There's a nod from Sungchan, as he nudges for his best friend as some kind of hyping up action. They stop and laugh mischievously for a moment, elbowing and knee bumping, you don't understand at all. You miss having friends as a child.

You try to stifle your laugh at the look on Jaehyun's face, but you seem to fail so, a small snicker coming from you as he selects Polar Express with dark eyes. Your brother walks to his empty armchair, plopping down with a deep sigh.

Maybe Sungchan and Shotaro are right, Christmas marathons must start with Polar Express, It's just how it is. Or maybe A Christmas Carol, but that scared Sungchan so it's no longer and option.

At this point, you don't realize your mother and boyfriend walking in the living room from the kitchen, where your boyfriend insisted on helping with the dishes, the movie already captivating your attention as you stare at the familiar scene you've watched just so many times already. Donghyuck flops to the far left, next to Yuta, and instantly melts into the warm atmosphere, his attention adverting to the TV screen as well.

It's just halfway through the long movie when both young boys completely pass out, of course they weren't going to last that long. Shotaro is leaning on your shoulder, mouth open with small, quiet sneers pouring out his lips peacefully. Your younger brother is leaning forward next to his friend, occasionally nodding awake but falling asleep only seconds later.

You want to reach out past Shotaro and bring his head to your lap or something, but that would just wake the young boy on your shoulder. Instead, you just keep an eye out for him, and make sure to always check up on him.

Just to your luck, Donghyuck notices as well all the way from the other couch, and decides to take action when Sungchan almost face-plants to the floor. He swiftly stands up to pick your brother up to replace himself in the spot, and drape Sungchan's body over his as he secures him in a warm embrace.

At first, you're shocked and taken aback, Donghyuck was always unexpected but you never would have thought he'd cuddle your brother. It's a warming sight to see, 2 important people in your life being so comfortable and affectionate despite knowing each other only for a short span of time.

Donghyuck rubs Sungchan's back with care when he shifts in his embrace, eventually pressing his plush cheek flush against his shoulder, lips puckering out adorably.

A sudden wave of gratitude splashes over you like the waves washing up on the shore, towards nobody in particular. You're just very grateful for the fact that you have such a nice family, a warming family that will always welcome you with open arms whenever, grateful to Jaemin who introduced you to Donghyuck, grateful for having a chance to be in such an atmosphere.

This Christmas is very special to you, your boyfriend and your family meeting, you honestly thought they wouldn't like him that much, but now you're pretty sure they love him more than you do.

#nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 #lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck fluff #lee haechan #collabs!#nct 127 x reader #fullsun #lee donghyuck imagines #lee donghyuck scenarios #lee donghyuck x reader

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poutyyybangtan · 4 years

Text

ready or not - j.jk

genre: friends to lovers, enemy to lovers, (almost a slow burn?), a mix of everything lol character pairing: jeon jungkook 9bts) x female oc warnings: not really any lol just angsty fluff kinda stuff word count: 5.4k (it’s alot) authors note: i wrote this months ago and it’s not finished but i can finish it if yall want? let me know :)

______

(prompts from @im-here-to-help-you-all-write)

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets.” “yeah, kinda like your face.”

“i need your help.” “holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that.’ “please don’t rub it in right now.”

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet” “you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time.”

you can’t believe you actually had to do this. the last person you ever wanted to look at was your only shot at getting out of the situation you brought upon yourself. you had originally counted on one of your other friends to help you out, but of course, life never seemed to work out the way you wanted it to.

“jin, please. can’t you just cancel and come with me?” you begged, watching as your older companion continued to chop away at some vegetables.

“you know i would love to help bamboozle your family with my impeccable acting skills, but unfortunately, i do have a business to run. this weekend is a big deal for the restaurant and joon would kill me if i left him alone to handle such a thing. and besides, we all know joon can’t toast bread without having to call the fire department first,” jin laughs. you laugh softly, knowing jin had a point. poor namjoon had amazing business skills, but unfortunately that means he lacks in the cooking department.

“i guess you’re right,” you mumble begrudgingly.

“why not ask jimin if he can go?” jin asks, sliding the chopped vegetables into a pot.

“my mom knows him, she’ll know something isn’t right. and besides, he and hobi are going to a dance camp for school,” you shrug.

“and tae? yoongi?” jin asks.

“he’s got that test retake for his photography class and yoongs has an audition for an entertainment company in gangnam,” you sigh. you’re really proud of all your friends and the successes they have, but you really wished they could’ve helped you in your time of need. but you couldn’t be that selfish, so maybe you had to admit defeat.

“you know, you could just ask jungkook,” jin asks nonchalantly.

“you know i can’t do that,” you answer bluntly, refusing to even entertain the idea.

“i mean, you could,” jin laughs, putting the lid on the pot and onto the stove top, turning to you afterwards.

“jin, you know i can’t. he is the last person on earth i would ask to help me. i would rather die of embarrassment than to ask him for his help,” you dramatically claim.

“you just might if you don’t ask. besides, what's the big deal? it’s only for a weekend,” jin shrugs.

“yeah, a whole weekend of him pretending to be my boyfriend. jin, we can barely tolerate each other as is, having us cooped up together and pretending like we actually like each other is a whole other ball game,” you said.

“well, here’s the way i look at it. either you tell your mother that you don’t have a boyfriend and face embarrassment at your mother's wedding, or you can suck it up, ask jungkook nicely to do you this one favor, and have fun this weekend. you never know, jungkook might actually be up for it,” jin says, an underlying suggestive tone in his voice; one that you never caught.

you had to admit, jin was right. as painful as it was, jungkook was your only chance at escaping this nightmarish weekend.

you found jungkook in his usual zone of comfort: with his lips attached to some random girl he probably barely knew. you found yourself scrunching your face in distaste. such a vulgar display in a library no less. you huffed off your second doubts and approached the table with confidence. you noticed that neither party acknowledged your presence, so you knocked on the table to gain their attention. reluctantly, the girl pulled away first to throw you a bitter look.

“jeon, can we talk?” you say softly, not trying to cause a disturbance.

“i’m kind of busy, can’t it wait?” jungkook asks, a smug look on his face, the girl sat next to him donned a complacent smile on hers.

“please, i saw you making out with some bimbo blonde yesterday, i’m sure you can find some other toy to play with when we’re done,” you smirk, watching the look on the girls face fall with every passing word that escaped your lips. she glanced over at jungkook with disgust before grabbing her belongings and walking away in a fit.

“great, well there goes my whole afternoon,” jungkook scoffs. he leans into his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

“you’ll deal. look, i need your help,” you admit, much to your dismay.

“holy shit, i never thought i’d hear you say that,” jungkook laughs ironically.

“please don’t rub it in right now,” you groan.

“how can i offer my service to you?” jungkook smirks, looking up at your obviously irritated figure.

“i need... i can’t believe i’m saying this. i need you to be my boyfriend for the weekend,” you spit out.

“you what?” jungkook asks incredulously. you don’t blame him for his confusion. what you were asking was heinous, add to the fact that you two barely tolerated each other? it was the biggest taboo situation you could’ve put yourself in. but you were desperate.

your mother, as loving as she was, was relentless. she just wanted the best for you. you were about to graduate college soon, about to get a real career and be a real adult. and to her, that meant start a family as soon as possible. and that couldn’t happen without being in a relationship first. and what better way than to hook your daughter up at a gathering for family friends? cause nothing says love like a wedding, right?

“what’s in it for me?” jungkook asks. you looked at him in disbelief.

“wait, you’re actually considering it?” you asked.

“well, you gave me a proposition, so why not?” jungkook asks.

“uh, because we’re not necessarily friends? it’s not like you owe me anything to even consider the idea,” you chuckle.

“you might not be my friend, but that doesn’t mean i’m not yours,” jungkook shrugs, finally standing up and collecting his scattered books. you hadn’t actually noticed them before, you just thought that the library was a good place for jungkook to hook up, not an actual study zone.

“well, uh, what do you have in mind?” you asked, answering his question finally.

“i need a date for this work thing, and my usual hookups aren't going to cut it. they’re not exactly what you would say… modest?” jungkook jokes, causing you to laugh a little bit.

“sound like a deal?” jungkook asks after a moment of silence passes. you pretend to consider his proposition, as if you actually had a choice. you look up at him and you can see that he saw that too.

“what kind of work thing?”

“where are you going?” jimin asks, watching you step out of your bedroom clad in a cocktail dress. you really would’ve rather been at your shared apartment, cuddled up next to jimin and tae watching some horror film eating greasy food, but alas, you had to uphold your end of the bargain.

“remember i told you that in order for jungkook to uphold his end, i have to uphold mine? apparently, he works at some magazine company and they’re having a company gathering to celebrate the issue's 90th anniversary and he needed me to come with,” you groan, strapping on your heels.

“you’re going all out for this,” taehyung comments, a teasing tone hidden in his words. you looked up and glared at him, knowing what he meant.

“if i put forth 100%, maybe he will too,” you say.

“oh, he most definitely will be putting in 100% effort,” jimin says, low enough for only taehyung to hear which makes him giggle. you look up and see jimin smirking at you which makes you groan internally.

suddenly, the doorbell rings and you thank whatever being there is that saves you from the conversation that was happening, with or without your participation. you pull the door open and the first thing you see is jungkook, properly dressed head to toe. you notice the bow tie pressed snuggly against his neck, not a wrinkle in his suit jacket or his dress shirt. his long hair was parted down the middle, brushed out out of his eye. you hated to admit it, but he looked breathtakingly beautiful.

“wow,” jungkook finally says, eyeing you in a way that made the blood pool in your cheeks.

“uh, yeah. let’s- let’s go,” you murmur, noticing the boys in the living room giggling at your guys’ interaction. you shove him in his chest. he grabs your hands and laughs, pulling you out the door.

“what did i miss?” jungkook asks. you roll your eyes, noticing the way jungkook held onto your hand, even after you got further and further away from your apartment, but not minding the warmth his hand provided against your cold one.

“trust me, nothing you want to hear, and nothing i’m willing to repeat,” you scoff.

jungkook was right. he had warned you beforehand that everyone at his job was stuck up and snobbish and would continuously point out that fact that you were no model. and like he had forewarned, all you heard all night was “you’re too pretty not to be a model” or “jungkook ended up with you?” you were appalled, sure, but you didn’t take their words to heart. you don’t know these people, and after tonight, you’re never going to see them again.

but jungkook flinched every time someone opened their mouth. he felt bad for you, but when he saw you delicately handle the situation, he knew you would be fine. still, it didn’t make him feel any less bad.

“we can leave whenever you want, you know?” jungkook whispers into your ear. you look up at him and smile.

“sounds like you’re using me as an excuse to ditch this snooze fest,” you giggle. jungkook smiles back down at you and laughs with you.

“busted,” he finally says.

“thank god, let’s ditch these runway wannabes and get some pizza. i’m starved,” you groan, looking away, missing the endearing glance he tosses your way. you both ditch the stuffy building, and headed to a late night pizza shop down the corner. you sigh in relief once you step into the restaurant, inhaling the smell of cheese and dough. you both decide to seat yourselves in a booth in the corner of the dining area. once you both place your orders, you settle into a comfortable silence.

“so, what caused you to conjure up this boyfriend lie?” jungkook asked after awhile.

“my mom thinks that i need to be in a relationship to be happy since i’m getting ready to enter the real world,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and leaning into your elbows that rested on the table.

“thats stupid,” jungkook scoffs, leaning into the booth. you were caught off guard by this, expecting jungkook to somewhat agree with your mother.

“you look surprised,” he says, gauging your reaction.

“i kind of am. not gonna lie, i was expecting you to agree with her,” you say, shrugging. the waiter brings your slices and leaves you two alone, settling back into the conversation.

“no way. if you want to be single, you should. i’m sure you’re single by choice anyways,” jungkook says, picking up his pizza and taking a huge bite of it.

“what do you mean?” you ask him, slightly confused behind the intentions of his sentence.

“i just mean that you’re insanely smart, funny and talented. and you’re extremely beautiful. if you wanted any guy, you could have him,” jungkook shrugs, munching on his pizza in peace. meanwhile, his statement sent you into a frenzy. who knew jeon jungkook thought so highly of you. you were under the impression that he dispised your entire being. he never really complimented you before, so his statement shocked you.

“never knew you thought so highly of me,” you said, smiling to yourself. you can’t really explain it and you don’t know why, but knowing how jungkook truly felt about you made you extremely happy.

“there’s a lot you don’t now about me,” he winks, causing you to roll your eyes and eat your pizza. and yet again, you missed the way jungkook smiled at you, enjoying your presence more than he would care to admit to.

“i don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet,” you murmur, feeling your hands start to shake as you stood outside the venue.

“you’re going to have to be, because we’re out of time,” jungkook smiles, taking hold of your hand and waltzing you two into the building. your mom had asked you to come early for a surprise so you decided to give her a surprise of your own.

“jungkook, maybe we should say you caught food poisoning and we had to leave,” you murmured as jungkook continued to drag you further and further into the building. jungkook smiled at your child-like nature and shook his head.

“we’ve come too far to give up now. let’s just rock this and get home,” he says, smiling at you. you felt a sudden urge of confidence that surges through you and gives you enough momentum to swing open the doors of the chapel hall. you were taken aback by the way the chairs are decorated with white pieces, hanging off the backs. you take notice of the pale yellow and white combo that you didn’t think would match so well. you felt happy for your mom and that she met someone who loved her so much that they were willing to do this for her to cherish the day.

“it’s beautiful,” you gape, admiring all the minute details your mother probably agonized over. jungkook admired the astonished look on your face as you practically ignored his presence to take in your surroundings. he always found you beautiful, but watching you be you while nobody was looking was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. jungkook had the biggest crush on you for as long as he could remember. and he refused to even fathom the thought of confessing to you when he knew how you felt. he knew you couldn’t stand his lifestyle, his choices that he’s made regrettably. but how else was he supposed to cope with the fact with the one person he’s allowed to steal his heart hates him.

“ah, there you are,” a voice says from behind you two. you both turn around and you see your mom, hair curlers and full glam.

“hi mama,” you smile, running up to her and giving her a big hug.

“hi sweet pea,” your mama coos, swaying you both back and forth. you pull back and look behind you to see jeon smiling at the interaction. this made your heart jump for a split second before you returned back to your surroundings.

“ma, this is my boyfriend, jeon jungkook,” you smile.

“oh my, you’re so handsome,” your mother gushes, rushing up to him and pulling him into a hug.

“thank you,” jungkook smiles, blushing slightly. you’ve never seen jeon blush before and to see him in a such a fragile state made you happy. and you couldn’t seem to figure out why. your mom finally released jeon from her clutches and she turned back to you.

“hun, i’ve got a surprise for you. follow me,” she says, grabbing yours and jeon’s hands dragging you to what you assumed was the dressing room. there were two dresses that were covered hanging off of a clothing rack. your mom shoves you guys onto a couch and rushes over to the dresses.

“one of these beauties will be yours to wear for the wedding because… hon, will you be my maid of honor?” your mother asks, eyes full of stars that made your heart swell. you felt the air leave your lungs and your heart begin to race. you remember watching your mom struggle with love all her life, her face in a frown always. you’ve never seen your mom so happy now, and you would do anything just to see her happy.

“ma, are you serious?” you ask, wanting to be sure this is what she really wanted.

“of course baby,” she smiles. you jump up and hug her tightly, muttering a yes into her hair. you both squeal with delight, jumping in place like teenage girls. suddenly, another pair of arms are wrapped around you, chest pressed against your back. you managed to look up and see jungkook bouncing with you and your mom.

“i wanted to join too,” jungkook says, his voice high pitched and filled with excitement which in response, made you giggle. you all finally stop bouncing and jungkook pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, catching you off guard. you felt your heart race and you swore his heartbeat matched yours. you brushed it off as it being the sudden activity you all had just endured.

“i’ll leave you two alone so you can try the dresses,” your mother says after she catches her breath, winking at you.

“you’re just gonna let your daughter get undressed in front of her boyfriend alone?” you ask incredulously.

“hon, he’s your boyfriend. i’m sure he’s seen more,” she giggles, exiting the room, leaving you with your jaw wide open.

“can you believe this?” you ask, shocked at your mothers bold statement.

“i’ve always wondered where you get your vulgarity from,” jungkook teases, his chest causing a vibration that you felt in your back, reminding you of your close, read as nonexistent, proximity. you push yourself away and whip around to face him, catching a glimpse of him trying to fight the smile that tried its best to take place on his delicate features.

“i’m not vulgar and you’re not watching me change. however, i do need an opinion on the dresses, so i guess you can stay,” you say, walking past him to try on the dresses. you snatch both of them of the rack and head into the bathroom, changing into dress number one.

at first you thought it was a joke, the frills and exotic colors making your eyes hurt from how loud it was. you tried it on anyway, and you couldn’t believe how ridiculous you looked. no way your mother was being serious when she picked this dress out. you unlocked the bathroom door and stopped your way to where jungkook was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. you clear your throat to capture his attention and you nearly explode with the laughter with the way his eyes widen and face drops.

“what do you think?” you ask him, twirling around in the godforsaken dress you know your mother probably bought as a joke.

“i think the longer you look at it, the worse it gets,” jungkook says, a dumbfounded look on his face. you withhold your laughter and stare at him in distaste.

“yeah like your face,” you scoff, playing with the dress as if you actually admired it.

“are you gonna wear that?” he asks, secretly hoping you’d say no so he could release a breathe he didn’t know he was holding.

“well, i like it, don’t you?” you say, continuing to pretend like you actually were considering wearing this deafening dress.

“uh.. if you like it then… sure,” jungkook says, shifting in his seat. you admired the fact that he was trying to cater to your feelings and for some reason it made your heart race at the thought. you don’t know whats been going on with you lately but every kind gesture has made your heart race with excitement. you didn’t know when it happened, but you started looking at jungkook as more and it scared you. you couldn’t be with him. you knew that. jungkook had a reputation, and he was proud of it. he was proud of the amount of women he could pull in one night. hell, in one hour. he was used to the idea that feelings were a concept he wasn’t willing to understand or try out. and you had to accept that.

“i’m messing with you gukkie. my mom probably bought this as a gag, the real dress is still in its cover,” you say laughing at jungkooks face that was contorted into one of discomfort. you leave him to relish in your teasing as you retreat back to the bathroom to change into the actual dress. you could still hear jungkook laugh to himself as you unzipped the dress to change into the other one. little did you know, he was laughing to himself about the nickname you gave him. he’s never had a nickname he actually enjoyed before. he was still lost in the thought of you calling him gukkie forever when you finally exited the bathroom.

he always thought those scenes in cheesy rom-com teen films where the guy is staring at the girl like she’s the only one that matters was cliche. but he was wrong. so very wrong. watching you in the tight floor length pale yellow dress that just made you glow knocked all the air out of his lungs. you’re hair that was in a messy ponytail allowed some pieces of hair to frame your face as you continued to fumble with the dress.

“it’s a little longer than i thought, but it fits well, yeah?” you say, still looking down at the gown. you honestly felt ridiculous. you rarely dress up like this. you hid your body underneath baggy clothing so to have something so tightly pressed against your body made you severely insecure. the silence coming from jungkook made everything worse. you looked up to see jungkook leaning forward, elbows resting on his thighs, hands holding his head up. there was a look in his eye you had never seen before and it made your stomach churn with excitement.

“that bad huh?” you joke, hoping to ease some of the tension that was building in the room. jungkook stands to his feet and approaches you, his body so close to yours you could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook says, smiling down at you. you feel yourself blush and begin to fumble with your fingers, a nervous tic jungkook found absolutely adorable. jungkook was helplessly in love with you, this much he knew. from the way you laughed, to the way you rolled your eyes in his presence. he loved the way you gave yourself wholly to the ones you cared about, willing and able to do any and everything for the people you love. he loved the way you strived to work hard and how incredibly intelligent you were. and suddenly, his heart was full with all the love he was dying to give you, but know he never could. because you deserved much more than some player who was willing to sleep with anything with legs. but if he could at least pretend like the love between you two was real, even if for a short while, he’ll take it. as desperate as he was, he wanted to know what it felt like to have you love him back. even if he knew it was all pretend.

“jungkook, i can’t thank you enough for doing this. i know you would rather be in some girls bed trying to figure out a way to sneak out without her noticing, but i’m glad you’re here… with me,” you smile, hands gripping his bicep’s to keep him close. his cologne was hypnotizing, causing you to pull him closer and closer.

“there’s no place i would rather be,” jungkook said honestly, placing his hands onto your waist, allowing you to lean in.

“you don’t mean that,” you scoff, smiling and rolling your eyes, getting ready to pull yourself back from a dangerous territory. jungkook stops this from happening, wrapping his arm around you til your pressed flush against his body.

“you have no idea how bad i want you. all of you. mind, body and soul. but for right now, for the sake of our friendship and the momentum its growing, i will take you in whatever way you will allow me to have,” jungkooks says, forehead pressed against yours as he wills himself to hold back from pressing his lips against yours and taking you on the small couch in the dressing room. the words jungkook spoke so honestly made you shake from it’s intensity.

“jungkook i--”

“how’d the dress fit?” you mother asks, barging into the room. you and jungkook scramble apart from one another, him taking seat on the couch and you standing in front of him. you mother misses the way you two seemed highly unfocused and nervous as she coos over how adorable you look in the right dress.

“you need to finish getting your hair and makeup done, so scooch along so me and your beautiful boyfriend can get to know each other,” your mother says shoving you out of the room and directing you to where the other bridesmaids were getting their hair and makeup done. it wasn’t until you were sat in the chair that you realized.. your mother and jungkook were alone. oh boy.

you never felt so girly in your life. your hair was curled and put up in a half up half down situation, your makeup light and barely noticeable, but enough to tell you were wearing it. this wasn’t you, you didn’t like wearing makeup mainly because at the end of the day you forget to take it off and causes acne. you were working part time and went to school full time so you always left your hair in a ponytail or a bun. this look was new for you and you were kind of excited yet nervous for jungkook’s reaction.

you surprised yourself with the thought, not really caring about jungkook’s opinions before, but now it was all you could think of, and that scared you. you knew this was just a favor he was owing to you, but he was really going above and beyond and it warmed your heart. but you had to remind yourself that you were just friends, nothing more. hell, you were barely friends. had it not been for you incessant need to prove yourself to your mom, you two would’ve never even became cordial with one another.

you brush these thoughts aside, trying to manifest positive vibes for such a joyous occasion. you leave the dressing room, filled with chatter, in search of jungkook who may be suffering your mother’s constant conversation. you return back to the room you first were in when you arrived, catching your mother exiting the room.

“you didn’t scare him off, did you?” you tease, hugging your mom.

“honey, you look beautiful!,” your mom gushes, taking in the sight of her daughter. you smile and thank her, happy that she was happy.

“is he still in there?” you ask, nodding towards the door she came out of. she giggled and placed her hands on your shoulder.

“he is, and he is absolutely in love with you,” she smiles, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“what do you mean?” you ask, your heart starting to race.

“the way he talks about you, the way his eyes gleam with love with the mere thought of you. hunny, this man is undoubtedly in love with you,” she smiles. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, there was no way that jeon jungkook, the university playboy, is in love with you. you two barely conversed without an argument taking place. you doubt he knew anything about you, despite you two running in the same circles. sure, you knew a lot about him, just because your friends talked about him a lot and it was hard not to listen to sometimes.

“you’re crazy ma. you need to finish getting ready, the weddings going to start soon,” you laugh, trying to brush off the conversation.

“jungkook is in there getting ready, one of robert’s groomsmen caught food poisoning so he’s gonna walk down the aisle with your cousin, sam,” she said, rushing off to get ready, leaving you no room to reply. this wasn’t what he signed up for and you felt bad, so you went into the room to check on him. you caught him standing in front of the vanity, trying to finish off his tie. you had seen jungkook dressed up before, but there was something different about this time. you felt something more for him, and honestly, you always have. but his reputation…

“looking sharp,” you smile, looking up at him. his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he smiles, and this time you see it. the love your mother was talking about.

“you look beautiful, as usual,” he says, his charm peeking through. you scoff at his comment, walking up to him. you seemed small compared to him, and it was kind of an odd sight for you. you leaned your head against his shoulder, just staring at him staring at you through the mirror.

“something on your mind?” he asks, noticing how lost in thought you were. you focus in on him and the surroundings around you.

“my ma said something interesting earlier that’s got me thinking is all,” you say, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue much further. you didn’t want to make the air awkward or uncomfortable by trying to involve feelings, but a big part of you want to know how he feels from his own lips.

“what did she say?” he asked, his nerves jumping. he didn’t say anything wrong did he? he tried to be as cordial and respectful as possible, wanting your mother to like him. if things were to happen in the future, he didn’t want to be on bad terms with your mother.

“she said… she said that you love me?” you murmur, you heart caught in your throat now that the truth was out there and you can’t take it back. jungkook froze, caught off guard by your confession. he wanted to play it off like it wasn’t true, that your mother was delusional. but he knew the truth. and he knew that you also knew it too. he wanted you. he’s always wanted you. and now, he’s presented with the opportunity to have you in any way he wants and he can’t make the move to move forward.

“is it true?” you ask, trying to get a clear and concise answer. you’re not sure what’s going to happen, regardless of what his answer is, but the anxiety of not knowing is starting to kill you. you shouldn’t be forcing him to confess, but now that it was out there in the air, you couldn’t take it back. maybe you should tell him?

“if you’re not comfortable talking about it it’s o--”

“i love you,” he blurts, interrupting you. you pick your head up off of his shoulder and now you’re standing side by side, staring at him through the vanity mirror. you’re frozen, unsure of what to do now. you didn’t actually think he was going to say it. you thought your mother was pulling your leg. but she didn’t know that you two weren’t actually a couple and maybe that’s why you had hoped what she said was true.

“did you hear me?” he asks, voice laced with nerves. he couldn’t even begin to explain the amount of fear and vulnerability he was feeling at the moment. he meant it. he loved you. but why should you believe him. he was a playboy, and though you may never understand his reasons as to why he tried so hard to escape you by sleeping with other people, he wanted nothing more for you to believe him now.

“i did,” you whisper, afraid that the sound of your beating heart was louder than the words you spoke. you wanted him, god you wanted him, but you were scared that his words were from false bravado. a heat of the moment feeling that was fleeting.

“i know you might not believe me, and you have every right not to. but i love you with my entire being and.. it’s scary,” he chuckles, trying to explain his emotions to the only person he’s ever been vulnerable with.

“and like i told you earlier, for the sake of us finally gaining friendship, i will play it to your pace and whenever you’re ready, let me know. because i’ll be here,” he smiles. he turns to you, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to your cheek before walking out of the room, leaving you confused as to what the hell just happened.

_______

an: part two? let me know :)

#jeonjungkook #jeonjeongguk #jungkook scenarios #jeongguk #jungkook #bts scenarios #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #slow burn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts scenario #kpop scenarios #bangtan boys scenarios #kpop

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mattw83 · 3 years

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Gabrial and Nathalie origin thoughts

I had a random thought... whats new, lol.

Pretty much an AU more than a theory, since I dunno, kind of lessens his objective a little? I dunno, see what you think...

I know Gabrial comes across as obsessive over his wife, but what if its more? What if Gabrial caused his wifes comatose situation, and is actually feeling guilty over it...

This might make both of them worse than before though!

FYI, i actually like nathalie, and think she was a good person, just crazy for Gabrial, and love makes you do things you normally wouldn’t.

----

They were deeply in love, but Gabrial worked hard, his compulsive workaholic nature wore down on them though, Emilie and Adrien never saw much of him, but when they did, they were a happy family, but at times, work just wore on Gabrial, until he met Nathalie, a single woman, equally as dedicated to her work as he was.

She was always there; his assistant, ready with his coffee, on top of his schedule, his calls, his family duties.

She never had time off unless he did, and even then, she was there at the office before he was most times, coffee in hand, just how he liked it.

There was nothing romantic between them, it was Employer and Employee, and for a time, things improved with his family, and Nathalie became a part of it, even helping with Adrian when his parents needed time alone for personal reasons, or other things.

But things did slowly change when Emilie got sick. He relied more on Nathalie to keep him focused.

Even before the illness, he appreciated her through any up and down, any argument about working too hard, about Adriens upbringing, and Gabrials stubborness, and treatment of his son.

Nathalie helped him, talked to him, didn’t argue, but made comments that would make it seem less like he was being ‘ordered’ or ‘berated’.

He loved his wife, but Gabrial was far too competitive in nature to ever see a conversation as less than being told what to do!

He oved his wife... but she was his equal, and he knew that, he had always known that. Just as smart, just amazing as he saw himself, so how could he ever doubt her reasoning, and accept he was ‘wrong’ at the same time.

Nathalie though, she knew how to let him make his own choices, by posing the same information, yet, somehow, it always felt like he was making the decisions.

He grew fond of her for that, more than he intended; more than he ever wanted.

She knew all his secrets in time, including that of his obsession with miraculous, and magic, and what he and Emilie had done, and his search for more information; clues to more miraculous.

She did her best to support him in this strange notion, and even contemplated leaving, as working for a possibly mentally unstable boss, with delusions of magical abilites and jewellery were a little worrysome for her career, but something always stopped her from going through with it.

She admired his dedication to work, to his work. his brilliant mind in fashion and business, a dedication akin to her own; though she had forgone ideas of romance to study, to work, and rise quickly, she had found herself in a predicament that she would have scoffed at before; Her admiration had become romantic.

The first time it happened it was late at night, a long day trying to fix a problem the day before a deadline, the relief, the joy Gabrial had felt at finishing in time had melted away the stress the hours leading up had brought down on him.

But he was still stiff in body, the tension making him ache.

A small massage to relieve his shoulder muscles, seemed intimate, but still within the realms of professionalism to Nathalie, and Gabrial certainly didn’t complain as her hands dug in to his muscle and worked out the tension.

The kiss that followed was unexpected, but neither stopped, nor did it stop as they made love on his desk.

After, came the shame, but somehow, they kept things professional, ignoring what happened as if it never did.

But the affair continued at unexpected moments; they never planned; they resisted with cold abandon that never left clues to what they did in the silent moments completely alone when work was done.

But time always finds a way, and during a sick day for Emilie where she was lay in bed, a simple touch, a single glance from nathalie, and simple gesture from Gabrial told Emilie something had changed between the two.

How she found out for sure, Gabrial never knew, but the fury and heartbreak of his wife erupted in to a heated fight, at first with words, but pain, jealousy, hatred... betrayal are corrupting even to the kindest of hearts, and Miraculous have a way of becoming a tool of expression.

Hawkmoth and Mayuras fight was swift, Hawkmoth defending himself against a Sentimonster was a battle of control, Mayura’s over his Akuma; the mental strain raged harder than any physical one, when he lost he was hurt, when he won, his wife took a mental hit before she strained to push back.

When it was over, Emilie lay unconcious, and for the first itme in years, tears fell down Gabrials face, he had done this... he had pushed his beloved wife away, and he did love her, with everything he had, it was just... Nathalie... a comfort of a different sort.

As the weeks passed, the funeral held, his son mourning, and his heart closed off to stop the pain and guilt, he scoured books, records, history, anything to give him a clue on how to save his wife. Nathalie planned to leave, but with Gabrial so distracted, someone had to look over Adrien; her guilt kept her from expressing the concern she felt; replacing his mother even for a moment reminded her of her part in her coma.

Her feelings would never fade for Gabrial, and guilt rocked her heart each time she saw him; but that was also her punishment.

As time passed, the guilt would fade for her, but she saw it never left him,

The wish wasn’t just to awaken his wife, but to undo the mistake they had made, one day, if Hawkmoth succeeded, then she maynever have met Gabrial Agreste, his marriage would be saved, his wife, would never have used the peacock again, and their family would be whole, as she would never have fallen in to the coma... or perhaps, she would be the one to inherit the comatose state. A condition she would willingly take if it meant Gabrials happiness.

until then, she would do anything for him...

#gabenath #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #miraculous nathalie #hawkmoth #mayura #emilie agreste #au #miraculous fanfic #fanfiction #miraculous fanworks #story #miraculous fandom #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir

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favefandomimagines · 4 years

Text

Vanilla & Cherries (f.w.

Summary: it takes a quidditch accident to make Fred admit he has feelings for you.

AN: i went through like three different plots while writing this lol also soul surfer chapter 10 will be up wednesday!!

request: @teentvimagines Hey! Excited to read you work. Enemies to lovers sort of thing with Fred Weasley? Maybe it’s a slytherin reader in the same year as George and Fred and they’ve always been competitive at quidditch but when they’re paired in class they start flirting???

The first time you knew that Fred Weasley had an undying hatred for you, was your second year at Hogwarts.

You never had an issue with him or his family before. You actually liked them and they’re family dynamic. It was just you and your dad, your mother having died of a magical illness when you were 12. Everyone knew you were a pureblood wizard but you were the butt of every joke when it came to only have one magical parent.

Of course you scared everyone so no one had the guts to say anything to your face.

You always thought the Weasley twins were nice people. Until you heard Fred talk about how unfortunate it is for you to be in Slytherin with only one magical parent. He didn’t believe you had the makings of being a powerful witch.

You changed his mind when you jinxed him the next day. It was harmless of course and you made your message clear.

The second time you were sure Fred Weasley loathed you, George had invited you to the Burrow for Christmas holiday, your father having to go out of town. Just because you were a Slytherin didn’t mean you weren’t a nice person to those who deserved it. Being a Slytherin had nothing to do with being a terrible person but about your ambition and drive. What a witch or wizard did with that was up to them.

Fred was less than enthused at the fact that you would be infiltrating his holiday at home. When you arrived with them and the Golden Trio, Molly gave you a large, motherly hug that you weren’t used too.

You forgot what it was like to be hugged by your own mother so Molly Weasley, the definition of what it means to be a mom, hugging you felt good. It meant more to you than you thought it would.

That was until Fred made a distasteful comment about your mom. How family gatherings like this probably weren’t common in your household.

Obviously it hurt your feelings. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying when you quietly excused yourself. Molly scolded her son for being so rude to you when George got up and followed you out.

George was more of a gentler person and he never had a problem with you. And he never knew why his twin brother disliked you so much. It was a mystery even to him.

He found you sitting on the front porch of the house and he sat down next to you. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you wipe the tears from your face but he saw you anyways.

“I’m sorry about Fred. He’s not usually like that.” George said softly. “I don’t know why he hates me so much. I’ve never done anything to him that he didn’t deserve.” You replied. “Don’t let what he says get to you.” George told you.

“It’s hard when I’ve had a crush on him since second year.” You said quietly. “You have a crush on him? Fred of all people?” George questioned. “Yes, but I’m trying to get over it. He despises me, there’s no way I can tell him.” You answered. “You never know. He’s quite the complicated person.” George said.

After that day, George tried to reign in his brother when it came to comments about your mother and your family. Those two topics remained off limits when the two of you would start the not so friendly banter.

It then transitioned to the Quidditch pitch. You were the best chaser on the Slytherin team and you somehow became the captain after Marcus Flint graduated.

Your team needed to be at the top of their game if you were going to beat Gryffindor. You’d never let them hear it but they were good. Sometimes too good for your liking and you strived to be better than them.

And the amount of times Fred would throw Bludgers at you became too many to count. And the amount of times you wracked up points for Slytherin after effortlessly dodging the Bludgers he threw at you, also became too many to count.

He made it his mission to knock you off your broom, letting George worry about the other chasers.

During a Slytherin v. Gryffindor match, Fred would not let up. Every time you got a Quaffle and made your way to Gryffindor’s hoops, there Fred was sending Bludger your way.

Graham Montague, a fellow chaser, tossed you a Quaffle and you were surprised that Fred was nowhere in sight. You took that as your chance to fly as fast as you could to the other end of the pitch.

It seemed as if you’d be able to score Slytherin some points until the team’s keeper called your name.

You turned around and saw a bludger headed straight for you. You knew you should have moved out of the way and disregarded your plan to get points, but you threw the quaffle through the hoop anyways.

“Ten points to Slytherin!” Lee Jordan announced. Your celebration was short lived when the bludger harshly hit your left side, causing you to go crashing to the ground below.

At first, every Gryffindor cheered. Slytherin’s best chaser and team captain was out of the game. But when you weren’t moving, however, Madam Hooch paused the game and ran out to where you were on the ground.

Your teammates as well as the Gryffindor team, huddled around you as Madam Hooch examined you. You had woken up and instantly the pain became too much. Your head was pounding and you were almost certain the pain in your shoulder was so excruciating you almost couldn’t feel it.

No one had ever seen you cry before. Not once has anyone gotten the notoriety for being the person who made Y/F/N Y/L/N cry. Though that changed thanks to Fred Weasley. You were sobbing on the ground due to pain, it being the only thing you could do in that moment.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Malfoy asked. All you could do was let out another sob as Madam Hooch tried to keep you still. A sound that made Fred’s chest tighten.

“Her shoulder is dislocated and she might have a concussion. We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey immediately.” Madam Hooch instructed.

Her, along with Malfoy, helped you get off the ground, your good arm being thrown over his shoulder.

“10 points from Gryffindor.” Madam Hooch snapped at the redheaded Beater as she helped you limp across the pitch.

It wasn’t Fred’s intention to hurt you. Usually you moved out of the way of every Bludger he threw at you but this time you didn’t. And seeing you get hurt gave him a bad feeling in his stomach.

George patted him on the shoulder, mostly out of pity. After the game and back in the common room, Hermione was giving the older twin a long lecture about how much you didn’t deserve to get hurt.

“Does anyone know how she is?” George asked. “Her shoulder is severely dislocated. Madam Pomfrey could only do so much. It has to heal naturally now.” Ron explained.

Saying Fred felt guilty was a large understatement. He felt terrible for hurting you and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get near you to apologize.

“I don’t get it, Fred. Y/N is nothing but nice to us. Even for a Slytherin, she doesn’t let Malfoy torment us nearly as much.” Hermione said. Fred remained silent, alone with his thoughts, but he could feel George staring at him.

That’s when it came to the younger twin. His brother was in love with you. “Merlin, Freddie, you love Y/N.” He said. “What?” Ron questioned. “He’s too afraid of his own feelings so he’s been terrible to Y/N to make that feeling go away.” George explained.

Everyone looked to Fred for some sort of explanation but they only received him getting off the couch and marching to his room.

The next morning, Fred looked for you at breakfast. Arriving early to see if he’d be able to apologize for hurting you during the match. You walked in later than usual, Hermione helping you carry your books to your house table.

Fred watched you thank Hermione as you sat down, adjusting the sling on your arm. As you did so, you winced in pain, Pansy probably asking you if you needed help or if you were okay. Which made him feel even worse that it was all his fault.

With your own band of guard dogs, making sure no one bumped into you the wrong way, there was no way he’d be able to talk to you alone.

When he was on his way to potions, however, he saw you walking alone. Struggling to carry your bag, he slid next to your side and took your bag. “Let me help.” He said as he situated it in on his shoulder.

You glared up at him, but you didn’t stop walking. You couldn’t afford to be late for potions and let Fred Weasley cost you even more than just Quidditch. Due to the anger you were feeling towards him, it caused you to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“I think you’ve done enough already.” You snapped, reaching for your bag. “I’m trying to help you, Y/N. After all I’m the reason you got hurt.” Fred said. “Because, for some reason, you hate me so much you threw that Bludger at me. Yeah, I was there.” You replied. “Y/N, I’m sorry-” He started before you snatched your bag back from him. “I don’t want to hear it.” You said sadly before entering the classroom.

You took your seat at your table, Adrian Pucey usually being your potions partner. That was until Snape decided to have everyone work in random pairs for that day’s lesson.

One by one, he listed off your classmates until he said your last name. “Anyone but Fred, anyone but Fred.” You muttered to yourself. “Mr. Weasley and Ms. Y/N. Try not to mortally injure her this time, Weasley.” Professor Snape said.

Adrian gave you a look of pity before Fred took his spot. “It must be fate.” He commented. You hummed, uninterested in the conversation. You opened up your book and followed the recipe for the potion you were making.

Amorentia was not going to work in your favor that day. Especially since you’re going to have to tell the whole class that you were attracted to the very person who dislocated your shoulder.

Through out the entirety of class, Fred was not paying attention. At least not to the potion. He was paying more attention to you as you measured out ingredients. A loose piece of hair fell in front of your face as your bit your lip in concentration.

He knew you were beautiful but now that he got a chance to stare at you without you noticing, he realized it even more. You added the last ingredient and a pink steam floated from the cauldron.

You let out a sigh of relief, mainly at the fact that you had successfully finished the potion. “That’s it?” Fred questioned. “What do you mean?” You asked. “We finished before everyone else.” He said. “I’m number one in our year in potions. That’s why.” You said with a dry laugh.

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Weasley. I see you have finished your potion.” Snape started as he stopped at your table. “Weasley, what do you smell?” He asked. “What do I smell?” Fred questioned. “Precisely.” Snape confirmed.

Fred furrowed his eyebrows and leaned towards the cauldron. “I smell vanilla, cherries and uh, poppies.” He answered. A small smile formed on your face at Fred’s answer. Unbeknownst to him, your perfume was vanilla and cherries and you always had fresh poppies in your room, the scent staining your robes.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” Snape instructed. ‘Great’ You thought to yourself. “Cloves, fireworks and Zonko’s.” You answered. “Write a reflection on your efforts and you’re free to go.” Snape said before leaving the table.

Fred looked back to you and noticed a smug look on your face. “What are you smiling about?” He asked. “Vanilla, cherries and poppies, huh?” You asked. “Yeah, that’s what I smelled. What does it mean?” Fred questioned.

“You really don’t pay attention in class.” You muttered. “I tend to let whatever Snape says go in one ear and out the other.” Fred commented. “Amorentia is a love potion. What you smell is what you’re attracted to. Your deepest desire.” You explained.

Fred’s eyes widened at your words, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Well, you’re not innocent in all this. I’m assuming what you smelled was my dear brother. After all, he’s been nicer to you.” He said, jealousy lacing his words.

You laughed at him and at the fact that he was oh so oblivious. “No you moron. It was you. Though after you nearly killed me I’m starting to rethink it.” You teased.

“Wait, so you, Y/F/N Y/L/N, desires me?” He asked flirtatiously. “And you, Fred Weasley, desire me.” You answered. “Who would’ve thought you’d fancy me back?” You asked, mainly to yourself but Fred still heard. “You’ve fancied me this whole time?” He asked.

“Guilty.” You answered. “And I can’t believe you’ve felt the same way when you literally almost murdered me during Quidditch and said those awful things about me.” You added. “Not my finest moment, I agree. I guess you could say I was scared of how I felt about you so I pretended I didn’t like you. Which was one of the hardest things to do because I never liked hurting you.” Fred said.

You looked him fondly as he explained his dilemma. “Fred, sometimes not admitting how you feel is worse than actually feeling.” You told him. “That’s rich coming from a Slytherin.” He joked. You nudged him with your good arm as you rolled your eyes.

“Just because I’m a Slytherin doesn’t mean I’m heartless.” You said. “I know. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He said.

You smiled up at him, getting lost at how handsome he was. And he was doing the same. This being the first conversation the two of have had without it turning into a screaming match.

You were both interrupted by George throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at his brother. “We should really write this reflection so we can get out of here.” You said, focusing back on your assignment.

“When we do, do you wanna maybe hang out?” Fred stammered, stumbling over his words. “I would love that. Just don’t injure me again this time.” You teased.

Fred smiled down at you as he watched you write on a piece of parchment. Never would he have thought that he would fall in love with the girl who he swore was his enemy.

#imagine #imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #draco malfoy #ginny weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Midnight”

Happy Saturday, everyone! I’d like to extend a formal congratulations to every Cinder fan in the community. Criticisms of the writing aside, you all struck gold with twelve whole minutes devoted to your fave and I’m absolutely thrilled for you.

We again start with a dark screen and some audio, in this case Cinder’s scrubbing. This technique—along with closeups on eyes—is a real favorite of RWBY’s this volume, to the point where I think they’re a little too enamored with it. But at least this is just a preference, not something that actively harms the storytelling in any way, so it’s welcome to stay. This time, unlike our premiere, we stay on Cinder as her life is summed up with three events intercut with one another: scrubbing floors, getting taunted by boys, and the sound of heels making their way towards her. It’s clear that Cinder leads a poor, miserable life, if her dirty clothes and stronger guys throwing her around is any indication, but all that changes when the rich woman says “I’ll take her” and Cinder is transported to a better life in a wealthy hotel.

At least supposedly.

Here’s my problem with the worldbuilding. This moment has Witcher vibes and Witcher, in turn, built itself off of a trope seen a hundred times before: A young woman is treated terribly by her family, is whisked away by a wealthy/powerful caretaker, and though her life has arguably improved, she quickly learns that the new world she’s entered is just as dangerous and harsh as the one she left. In Witcher’s case, Yennefer is a disabled woman abused by her family, bought by Tissaia, and taken to Aretuza where the other girls hate her and the curriculum is potentially deadly. Cinder is a poor woman arguably abused by her family (scrubbing)/the locals (fights), is taken by an unnamed woman, and whisked away to the swanky hotel where the daughters hate her and the work is potentially deadly due to shock collars. The difference between these two setups is that Tissaia bought Yennefer because of her magical potential. Why does our hotel lady take Cinder?

I mean yeah, obviously she wants a slave, but it’s a little weird isn’t it? Usually when a young woman falls headfirst into a new and questionable life, there’s a solid reason for her entry. This woman—whose lack of a name also says something about the worldbuilding—could have hired anyone she pleased to abuse. As we saw in regards to Atlas and Mantle in the past, every city has its poor and downtrodden. So what made her go out to some random farm and snatch Cinder up? It just, as always, feels a little too convenient. Cinder didn’t enter this life because something about her characterization or origin justified it, the plot simply ensured that she, out of everyone possible, and with very little reason, was the one chosen to follow The Plot™ .

It also messes with the Cinderella parallels. Originally (or “originally,” going off of Disney here which is likely what RWBY is using as a template too) it’s her step-family that abuses her and yes, we recreate that via the hiring (“hiring”—I doubt she was paid), but Cinder was already scrubbing floors back home. Her status as the servant already existed. So why change locations? Why not just keep Cinder as an abused farm girl, or have her a part of the hotel family right from the start? Part of the reason why Cinderella resonates is because of the contrast between the happy life with her father and the new, horrific life she falls into once he dies. Which is then further contrasted by the rest of the outside world. Fairy Godmother, Prince, and party-goers alike are all presented as kind, decent people. They represent the “real” world that Cinderella can escape to. By making Cinder’s original life horrible, her new life worse, and everyone connected with that life cruel and/or indifferent (with the exception of this one, special huntsmen)… you paint a very different picture of the world as a whole. Which is something RWBY has been vocal about trying to accomplish—it’s not a fairy tale—the only problem is with how these moments are undermined the second the story wants Ruby to ~Believe in People~. Cinderella is a story about enduring and eventually overcoming temporary hardship. Cinder’s story is about endless hardship that creates villains. A dark and fascinating story… but how does that fit into last week’s episode where Ruby told the whole world about Salem, expecting them to band together in peace and harmony? This is how Remnant’s world treats people when there’s not a global crisis, and Cinder isn’t even a faunus.

Which, I want to make clear going into the rest of this recap, does not excuse Cinder for her actions. At all. I think there are some complicated acknowledgements to be made in terms of her abuse and the Huntsmen’s responsibility in it continuing, but that does not give Cinder a blanket pass for all the horrific shit she has pulled over the years. Cinder didn’t just defend herself from abusers, she became one. More on that in a minute.

First though… is the Huntsmen’s name Rhodes? Did we hear that in the episode? If we did, I totally missed it because I have a note here about the one important character not getting a name. So yeah, idk. If we got this from more supplemental info, bad RWBY. If I missed it, bad Clyde. Either way, I’ll use that name going forward.

Back to the plot at hand. The hotel is, as said, populated by indifferent and shallow people and there’s no desert nearby, so I presume we’re supposed to be in Atlas? (Why did this woman buy a girl from another Kingdom?) There are customers getting drunk, flirting, and generally just enjoying their wealth, which harkens back to Weiss’ comment in Volume 4 about all their problems being superficial. We’re introduced to the owner’s two daughters who are, as expected, quintessential Mean Girls.

They love ordering Cinder around, not just with hotel chores, but personal ones as well like, “rub my feet”… despite the fact that this place is massive and must have an equally massive staff to stay in business. Why aren’t the girls terrorizing anyone else? Again, it makes sense for Cinder(ella) to be the focus of their abuse when she’s in a single household, but transplanting that to a hotel raises a lot of questions that RWBY hasn’t bothered to examine. You can’t move a story like that and not think about what further changes that would evoke.

See, RWBY could have done something interesting here by considering some of those other changes. Like having one or both step-sisters be the one to help free Cinder from her abuse, playing the villain before becoming the fairy godmother. Up until she turns villain instead of hero, this is just Cinderella’s story copy and pasted into RWBY. It’s moments like this that should make us wary of using fairy tale allusions as evidence for our readings and theories. Whether RWBY is deconstructing or upholding a story varies wildly, and we never know what we’ll get until we actually see it on screen. Even then we can’t count on a choice remaining consistent, as we saw with Ironwood’s deconstruction being tossed out the window in Volume 7.

Cinder is originally just as meek as her fairy tale counterpart too. We don’t hear her speak until the owner is about to leave when she simply goes, “Food?” The sisters laugh at her and a roll is thrown to the floor with the comment that she should get busy because it “looks filthy.” I quite like that moment. Your job is to ensure the floors are clean enough to eat off of—literally.

We see a montage of Cinder doing just that, lots of chores, with a new song listing all the tasks she’s now responsible for. During this, Rhodes is seen in the background and witnesses when Cinder (presumably) first uses her semblance by heating up the brush and chucking it at the sisters, creating a massive cloud of steam.

It’s that moment which “earns” her a shock session with her necklace and I’m staring at the screen, a little open-mouthed. I mean, that’s the second child torture we’ve seen this volume (with Cinder being ten here). Again, I’m not making a specific accusation, just going, “Really?”

Also, note the anti-faunus sign. Nothing like continually showing us racist establishments rather than actually writing a story that deals with the racism needless put into the story world. I’d like to remind everyone of my previous comments this Volume about how the story works hard to paint Mantle as sympathetic, but refuses to show anything that does the same for Atlas citizens, people who are in just as much danger with Salem as an equalizer. A whole city is not actually made up of shallow racists, the show is just showing us only those people to create a simplistic “They’re all bad” reading that encourages us to reject Atlas and, by extension, Ironwood. Weiss is walking proof that Atlas citizens are both complex individuals and capable of bettering themselves. If we can come to adore the Schnee heiress, we should be questioning why nearly every other citizen is painted as an abuser, too wealthy to care, or has conveniently left the story (Rhodes dead, Klein gone, Whitley rejected, etc.).

As Cinder is being tortured, we see that she’s forced to say, “Without you, I am nothing.” Now see, this is excellent... in theory. This is the kind of line we needed to hear with some consistency over the last seven years (if RWBY still insisted on waiting that long for a backstory), setting up that this line is clearly engrained in Cinder and she repeats it on instinct. Instead—to my recollection, anyway—we only get it this Volume, in two episodes. If it appeared before then it wasn’t notable enough to remember. I commented on this before, but it wasn’t a, “Ah, this line must be important” reaction, it was a “Lol why is RWBY using the same line twice? That’s weird.” By only giving it to us twice before the backstory and in such a short timeframe, the impact of this reveal is lost. We’re only now realizing that the line is important, rather than coming to realize why.

Our writers know just enough to recognize what techniques work, but not enough to have figured out what makes them tick. They get that providing a RWBY-vised version of Cinderella is cool, but not how to adapt that 100% successfully. They know that repeated lines have power, but not how to create good setup for the reveal. They know the camera should use closeups, but not what moments are important enough to warrant that. RWBY, eight years on, still feels like a newbie writer copying what the great stories are doing without yet understanding why those aspects work and, thus, how to recreate them.

I mean, Cinder’s backstory appearing now attests to that most obviously. I waved at the Cinder fans before, but the reality is that most viewers don’t care, either because Cinder herself is so bland, and/or because the story waited too long to make her a little more interesting. This entire flashback was handled badly simply by virtue of it arriving over seven years past the character’s introduction.

So after this torture session Cinder steals Rhode’s sword. We hear some dialogue in the background of him getting pissed that it’s missing and the sisters promising to find it, implying that Cinder will have this tool at her disposal for a while. Instead, seconds later he’s found her hideout and confronts her. I don’t know if I’m impressed with Rhode’s skills, or rolling my eyes at how contrived this all is. Chuck in the question of whether Cinder was talented enough to steal the sword out from under him, or if Rhodes was stupid enough to leave it lying around, and I’m edging towards the eye rolling.

He dodges Cinder’s attack, rolls her more weapons to prove he’s not here to hurt her, and acknowledges that she’s not getting “the most fair treatment.” Okay, here’s where things start to get complicated. Rhodes tells Cinder she shouldn’t run away because then she’ll be running her whole life (don’t really agree with that). He likewise (rightly imo) tells her not to straight up murder them because look, no matter how much of a shit stain someone is, I can’t condone slamming a sword through their chest on an individual’s say-so (especially when two of those people are also kids growing up under an abuser, like Whitely). So what’s left? Rhodes says Cinder can train to become a huntress. At ten years old, she has seven years to prepare for the exam.

But she has to stay with her abusive family until then.

My problem is far less with the claim that this “has” to happen and far more with the writing’s failure to tell us why. Cinder could have begged to come with Rhodes and he says she can’t because… idk. Make up a reason. He doesn’t make enough to feed the both of them. It would be too dangerous out on missions without training and he doesn’t have a permanent place to stay (hence using the hotel all the time). He could even go the “They’re your legal guardians” route with more explanation because it’s arguable that Rhodes had no idea about the collar. Doesn’t mean Cinder’s treatment isn’t “that bad” in his eyes, just that he might not have known the extent and thus thought it was preferable for Cinder to put up with “just” being insulted and overworked until she’s 17. That this life that he only has a partial picture of is preferable to the life she’d have at his side. Something to explain the stakes here, the risks, and why he took this stance.

And/or give us a reason why Cinder doesn’t try to run, a suggestion I make very cautiously because it’s not my intention to put the responsibility solely on her. This isn’t meant to be a “Just save yourself! It’s easy!” claim. Rather, it’s an acknowledgement that young, barely trained kids go out into the world all the time in this show—Ruby, Oscar—and it’s an acknowledgement that Cinder tugged off her collar easy-peasy. The point is, practically speaking, Cinder could have left and braved the streets like Emerald did… so give us a reason why she decided to stay. Maybe she’s scared of living on the streets, acknowledging that a little food and a place to sleep is better than nothing. Maybe she’s scared that if she doesn’t have a direct connection to the hotel (convenience), Rhodes won’t train her anymore. Maybe, as an abuse victim, she can’t articulate why she won’t leave, she just can’t. Something to acknowledge these gaps because, right now, we just have the fandom going, “See? This is why the huntsmen are all evil cops. Rhodes took the lawful route and look where it got Cinder! He’s the responsible adult in this situation, so it’s all his fault.” Problem is, this take ignores:

The fact that our heroes are also huntsmen and were pretending to be huntsmen before they had those lawful licenses. So what does that make them? We can’t continually criticize these professional roles without criticizing our heroes’ use of them as well. Ruby just ensured the world would take her message seriously by introducing herself as a huntress. We can’t condemn these laws and privileges while likewise letting Ruby continue to use them however she please. It’s okay if she’s a part of the system, because Ruby is inherently good! That’s not how this works. I’ve just described every American cop show that tumblr is currently turning against: The system is corrupt and needs to be overhauled, but our protagonists are different.

The story fails to tell us why Rhodes won’t do more outside of a single line about Cinder being of legal age. That just acknowledges that age has some bearing on his decision, not whether it outweighs other considerations (can Cinder survive if she leaves?), or whether Rhodes even has a full picture of what’s happening to her (the collar). The takeaway is that we don’t know what his though process was because RWBY didn’t show it to us, not that his thought process is automatically awful.

Rhodes, as a literal stranger entering her life, is not 100% responsible for what happens to Cinder. I know people don’t want to acknowledge that because leaving a child in that situation is absolutely horrific, but if RWBY wants to be ~realistic~ (and it does) then we need to acknowledge that reality too. If you saw a child employee getting yelled at in a hotel and then found her with your sword, would you rip the collar off her neck and be like, “Congratulations, you’re my child now”? Nice as that trope is, probably not! Or hell, maybe a lot of you would upend your life and risk legal action to whisk them away, but a lot of other people wouldn’t... and they're not the devil for doing what they can within the bounds of the law. The idea that because Rhodes unexpectedly had one (1) encounter with Cinder means he’s now responsible for her life and outcome is, well, crazy. “But, Clyde, you can’t just see that kind of horror and not do something about it.” You’re right. You know what you do? Tell the authorities. But does Remnant have the equivalent of social workers? We don’t know! Which means we can’t assume that Rhodes didn’t call them just because he’s a bad person. Or maybe they exist and the fandom considers them too corrupt to be useful, like so many other authorities in this show. So… what else is there for him to do? There doesn’t seem to be anyone above Rhodes that he can turn to, he doesn’t (for whatever reason) want to essentially kidnap Cinder and start a new life with her, so what’s left? Try to give Cinder a healthy relationship and a way to escape in the long run, which is precisely what Rhodes did.

Honestly, I’m kind of salty that this guy went out of his way to help her, he saw what everyone else saw and was the only one who would help her, but because he didn’t do more—because he didn’t entirely upend his life and/or risk arrest to take her away to this hypothetically better situation—the fandom is acting like it’s his fault Cinder killed her abusers. It’s not. Cinder made that choice.

At the end of the day, blaming Rhodes reveals the expectation that it’s his responsibility to solve this massive problem purely because he had the bad luck to be the one Cinder stole from. That’s like telling a teacher who learns about abuse from a paper that following the lawful channels and going out of his way to assist the child in other ways is responsible when the kid murders their family one day. “Why didn’t you just barge into the house and take the kid?!” Because there are a hundred reasons why that would go incredibly badly? Rhodes can’t help Cinder if he’s in jail. Rhodes can’t help Cinder if she ends up dead on a mission while following him. Rhodes can’t help Cinder if their attempt at escape fails and she bears the punishment.

The only thing I think Rhodes did absolutely wrong was giving Cinder the sword while she was still under the owner’s thumb. Stupid, but not cruel. And again, stupid does not equal blanket responsibility. I’m likewise seeing, “Rhodes gave her the sword and thus it’s his fault that Cinder got in trouble. It’s his fault they died. What was Cinder supposed to do, not defend herself?” Are people forgetting that Cinder stole the sword herself in the beginning and then readily accepted it again? She had agency in obtaining weaponry and what she wanted it for. Are people forgetting that, in accepting it, she likewise accepted the risk of keeping it hidden in the hotel? Are people forgetting that the time skip shows this happening years later and that Rhodes clearly thought Cinder was past her murderous streak? Are people forgetting that Cinder killed the owner by snapping her neck and resisting the shock collar, no sword required? She could have killed them any time she pleased based on the crime scene, whether Rhodes had given her a weapon or not. The weapon was just the catalyst that, truthfully, could have been caused by anything else. Cinder snaps when they find the sword and she’s tortured. Cinder snaps when she drops another tray and she’s tortured. She had planned to kill her abusers and never completely let go of that.

Honestly, I’m just annoyed that we have another good hearted, takes action, does his best and makes some mistakes character getting blamed for everything another character chose to do, erasing their agency in the process. Rhodes did not abuse Cinder. Rhodes did not force her to kill her actual abusers. And Rhodes is certainly not responsible for what Cinder later becomes. Could Rhodes have done more? Of course, but every character could always do more.

The tl;dr is that this complex situation needed far better setup in the show and the fandom needs to stop using that lack of setup as “proof” that characters are horrible people when they fail to magically fix said complicated, badly explained problems. Cinder chose to murder three people. Whether that was justified in the face of her abuse is up to you to decide, but it was still her choice. Please stop blaming the adult male characters for the choices the teenage girls in this show make. RWBY is too convoluted and attempting to tackle too many complex issues to reduce that to, “Every man here is the evil, responsible party and ever girl is a #queen. Even when they go on to murder Pyrrha ^_^” As a woman who would very much like to be rooting for the mostly-woman cast more than I now do, this isn’t the feminist take people want it to be.

But I’ve jumped waaaay ahead. Let’s backtrack a bit.

That first interaction between Rhodes and Cinder is super weird because the camera keeps covering Rhodes’ face and I don’t know why.

We segue into that montage of him training her for presumably years (Cinder’s hair changes) until we see him giving her the sword in what’s meant to be a moment of pride and trust. Soon after, Rhodes (randomly) comes back to the hotel when everyone else is asleep and hears noises in the back. Moving to check them out, he discovers that Cinder has murdered the two sisters and is in the process of murdering the owner, throwing back the line, “Without you, I am nothing, but because of you, I am everything.” Again, much more impactful if this had been a line we’ve associated with Cinder for years now, not a couple of episodes.

After she breaks the owner’s neck (damn, strong hand!) she tells Rhodes she doesn’t have to run anymore. Cinder clearly expects him to be happy for her and is shocked when he takes out his weapons.

I’m sorry, this is not a “betrayal.” Could Rhodes have just let Cinder go? Sure. Should he have? Given what she becomes, that’s very debatable! Rhodes clearly thought he’d helped her grow into someone who was not inclined towards murder (giving her the sword) and thus is probably going to be a little rattled when he walks in to find her killing three people. Again, there are obvious differences given the level of abuse Cinder seems to have suffered in comparison, but imagine that Glynda, after teaching Weiss for years, walked in on her killing Jacques and Whitley in revenge. Is she supposed to just ignore that? Shrug her shoulders and wish her well? I know a lot of people consider that the “fair” outcome given the inclusion of abuse, but that’s because we’ve had an omniscient view of Cinder’s history and insight into her emotional state. Rhodes doesn’t have that. All he has is his oath as a huntsmen to prevent things like, you know, murder sprees. I’m not going to delve into the overall ethics of a judicial system, either in RWBY or the real world, and thus I’m not going to make any naive claims about it being fair—it’s fucking not—but I don’t think the answer to these systematic problems is, “Why wouldn’t you just let the teenager murder three bad people and then go on her way? She totally deserved it!” Rhodes is not in a position to decide that, which is the entire point of having a judicial system in the first place.

So Rhodes wants to bring Cinder in. Kind of like how Clover wanted to bring Qrow in once he had an arrest warrant. I can’t emphasize enough that wanting to start a legal process rather than letting clearly guilty/potentially guilty people go because they WANT to is not a “betrayal.” Regardless of what teen dramas may have taught us, you don’t have to potentially throw your own freedom and your morals away because you found out a friend is wanted by the authorities. Or you walk in on them currently snapping someone’s neck. There are options other than, “Believe your friend is right without question and help them hide the bodies” (looking at you, Maria, Pietro). Whitely is not insane for going, “Hey, can you not make me an accomplice to a crime by forcing your way in here with a bunch of fugitives?” I’m constantly surprised by the number of fans who can, in one breath, condemn characters for not throwing a middle finger up at the law and in the next praise Jacques’ arrest. Do we want to benefit from this system or not? If yes, that means you have to weigh which laws can be broken (such as in a protest), which should be obeyed (bring murderers and wanted men in), all while working to change the laws that are prejudice and aren’t working.

Anyway, they fight. It’s short and sweet, backdropped by the large clock striking midnight, hence our title. I’m incredibly suspicious of Cinder breaking Rhode’s aura first, given that she’s still the student in training, but here we can more persuasively say he wasn’t fighting seriously, given that he then stupidly rushes towards her without a weapon. Still, that would be the second time now that RWBY has relied on elite fighters “holding back” to explain how the kids in training beat them, the first instance, of course, being with the Ace Ops.

Rhodes does rush Cinder though when she hits the wall and breaks her own aura, clearly concerned. She uses the moment to stab him with both swords. He uses his last breaths to put a hand on her head, conveying that he doesn’t blame her for how this all turned out.

Then Cinder pulls off her collar with a single snap and looks up at the broken moon, crying her single tear.

I’m dragging the flashback for multiple reasons, but I want to emphasize that I think this episode is leagues better from what we got last week. Absolute night and day. It’s just that, as always, improvements are incredibly comparative in RWBY. It’s not really good for numerous reasons… it’s just better than what we’ve gotten before. It’s “great” provided you go in with standards buried in the ground.

We then return to the present as Cinder wakes up in Salem’s whale. This scene gives us a great shot of her grimm arm, so cosplayers take note!

Emerald arrives soon after and immediately rushes to her side, expressing how worried she was. She grabs Cinder’s grimm hand without hesitation. Honestly, I don’t care much about either character… but this single frame activated some sort of ship button in my brain.

Not fully because I’m personally not drawn to toxic relationships in fiction (which, as I’m about to explain, would absolutely be the case here), but just the tinniest bit. Because I’m a sucker for monstrous people being loved despite their monstrous nature, so having Emerald take that hand over the other is like a ship speed run for me.

I’m predictable, folks.

But we need to talk about less happy things for a moment. I mentioned above Cinder becoming an abuser herself. I hope I don’t need to lay out the laundry list of murders, attempted murders, sabotage, and general taking-over-the-world-ness she’s engaged in since Episode One. Don’t let a sad backstory erase all that. Hell, for all we know the hotel owner had a horrific backstory too! Doesn’t justify how she treated Cinder. The point though is beyond her clear status as a villain, we now know that Cinder treats Emerald just like the owner once treated her.

Cinder was “rescued” from her life on the farm by the owner. Emerald is “rescued” from her life on the streets by Cinder.

Both realize over time that the situation they’re now in is actually worse.

Both reiterate that they “owe” the other “everything,” with Cinder having that shocked into her and Emerald seeming to willingly believe it.

The owner treats Cinder as a slave. Cinder treats Emerald as a slave. “Both of you, get out. I’ll let you know when you’re needed.” The only difference is that Cinder’s orders were things like “Scrub floors” and Emerald’s are “Convince an audience this girl attacked our ally.”

Both use threats to keep the other in line: the owner with her shock collar and Cinder with her Maiden powers. Cinder doesn’t need to resort to violence (yet) because Emerald adores her, but the threat is always there.

There are even visual similarities this episode, such as kneeling and gem necklaces, though I acknowledge fully that those are just interesting details as opposed to anything like persuasive proof.

The point is that Cinder became exactly what she hated, she just turned the dial up to eleven by going after the whole world instead of a single child. “But Cinder never had a chance to be anything else.” Sure she did. Blake and Weiss are proof of that. Even if we believe that Cinder was doomed to be a villain due to the extent of her abuse, what does that say about the hotel’s owner? We don’t know anything about her history, so what if she was abused too? Does that mean she was always “doomed” to treat Cinder that way? Does that excuse everything she did to her because she supposedly never stood a chance of becoming anything else? Of course not.

Though very iffily done, this is a commentary on the cycle of abuse. Each case is horrific, but it doesn’t excuse what comes later. Every abuser was once an innocent child and every innocent child has the capability of becoming the next abuser. Cinder’s life up until now was beyond awful and yes, she lacked a lot of privileges that others had to help them head down a better path, like Weiss’ wealth. On the other hand, she lacks other difficulties that would make that path harder for others, like Blake’s status as a faunus. Everyone has a choice to make: Will you treat others the way you were treated because that’s “fair,” or will you decide to treat others better than what you were dealt? There are lots of aspects that factor into the likelihood of someone choosing the latter—which is why I really like Rhode’s hand on Cinder’s head, acknowledging his understanding that she’s an abused kid taking the only path she thinks is available to her—but individual agency is by no means removed from the equation. Cinder escaped her situation and decided she’d never be powerless again. What does that mean to her, perhaps becoming a community member who works to prevent abuse like the kind she suffered? No, it means grinding the entire world under her heel until she’s the only one with power left.

This GIF continues to be the only one I need.

(No, the fact that it comes from a cop show and I’m using it for such an anti-law, anti-establishment story/fandom isn’t lost on me.)

(Also, if anyone is curious, this is why I love Ozpin. Out of everyone in this cast, HE has suffered the most, tenfold, and yet he still chooses to be kinder to those than they’ve been to him.)

Anyway, I should really stick to the plot lol. Cinder realizes that her waking up means that they’ve lost, which I still think is BS. Cinder needed a win to come across as a formidable villain again and the likes of Neo, Emerald, and a Maiden with years of practice under her belt should have wiped the floor with a scientist, retirement grandma, and a girl who got the powers an hour ago. But I again digress.

Mercury reveals that he will no longer be following Cinder’s orders because Salem has a special job for him. They’ve all been told to meet on the bridge.

Then we cut to Ozpin and Oscar.

My poor boy is a mess and Ozpin is in the process of begging Oscar to take a “break.” “I would like to express again that this is my burden to bear, not yours.” Take note, fandom. In a few moments Hazel will accuse Ozpin of being a “coward” because “All this time, it could have been you, but you let him suffer.” I just know a bunch of people will be going, “Yeah! Ozpin just let a kid get tortured instead of him. WTF??” Okay 1. We should always be suspicious of agreeing with the takes villains have and 2. Oscar just refused to let Ozpin do that. It is—again—his choice because he thinks that Hazel is “holding back” with him. Oscar is being a brave and logical dude trying to make the best of this situation for both of them. Don’t take that away from him just to make Ozpin look bad. What would we even want him to do? Take control back? The fandom has been yelling at Ozpin for that since Volume 5.

So they’re going back and forth when Oscar suddenly announces that they “can’t leave yet. This is our chance.”

Ozpin even says he thinks Oscar must have taken one too many hits because… yeah. What? Long story short, Oscar recognizes that they’ll never be this close to Salem’s subordinates again and that they should try to undermine her from the inside out, just like she’s done with the world since she knows she can’t take on everyone at once. I love Oscar taking charge here, I love them speaking in unison, I even love the hope of achieving something epic while in captivity despite my own belief that Oscar should break and reveal the Lamp’s password. What I don’t love is:

Another messy, unexpected belief that Salem made her choices because she “knows” she can’t win any other way. Except that—like Ruby’s line in the recording—Salem’s current attack blows that idea out of the water. She IS taking on the whole world. Granted, Ozpin and Oscar presumably don’t know that the whole world literally knows of her existence now, or that Salem was smiling about it, but they do know that she’s attacking Atlas head on. What else is that except a declaration of war with all of Remnant?

The idea of undermining Salem from the inside via Hazel. For anyone who reads my other metas, I just said that this idea wouldn’t work because Emerald isn’t the one torturing him, the one character who has consistently demonstrated hesitation (or, now, Neo). Hazel despises Ozpin so much that he would never listen to him. He despises him so much he doesn’t even see Oscar as his own person… at least he didn’t before. That’s been retconned now with Hazel going “easy” Oscar and having an actual conversation with Ozpin. Whereas before, he was slamming Oscar into walls and screaming about how he’s going to kill the “murderer” of his sister. They basically softened his character to make this plan possible.

The fact that this scene came about without Oscar and Ozpin ever getting to reconcile their problems. Last we saw them, Oscar was saying how he hated that Ozpin came back and refusing to acknowledge their merge. Now, they’re working together like they’ve always been solid allies. I get that the danger they’re in helps to put it all into perspective, but why can’t we get a few lines of them hashing this out? Or at least putting things aside until they’re out of Salem’s clutches? If you don’t need to re-write Hazel’s character with “he’s going easy on me” lines, you can use that space to deal with the conflict we’ve already established. Especially given the strange choice to have Oscar refuse to give up control and be the one coming up with this plan... but then Ozpin does take control and (maybe, see below) enacts it? I feel like we’ve missed huge chunks of this story. As it is, I wonder if RWBY will bother coming back to this. The questions of if/how Oscar will accept Ozpin and if/how he’ll reveal this secret to the group feels like they’re being swept under the rug and it will likely go unnoticed by a lot of viewers simply due to how intense the kidnapping plot is.

So things are a little messy, but otherwise enjoyable, and they’re about to get downright confusing. For me, anyway. See, Hazel reveals that he follows Salem because she can’t be beaten (cue my continued worry about Ruby telling the whole WORLD). She “can’t be stopped. She’s a force of nature,” and Ozpin is fighting a “cause with no victory, no end.” He yells back that “Someone has to try!”—bless this man—and then looks down at the ground going, “Salem can be fought. Unless… she brings the Relics together, if that happens…” and mentions summoning the Gods.

So here’s my confusion. The scene makes it feel like Ozpin is planting some sort of seed in Hazel’s head. He and Oscar JUST got done agreeing to try and undermine her from the inside out, then we get this line that feels like him “accidentally” dropping a secret that will turn Hazel against her. Except… Ozpin doesn’t lie here? The line isn’t useful to them as far as I can tell. They are screwed if Salem gets the Relics. …Right? Because if not, why the hell have the heroes been working so hard to keep them out of her hands? So I can’t decide if:

A) This scene is just written badly and none of this is part of the plan to undermine Salem.

B) Ozpin is going, “NO. Don’t collect the RELICS. That would be the WORST THING EVER /s” in an attempt to trick Hazel into doing it anyway and this is somehow supposed to hurt Salem, despite being presented since Volume 5 as the worst outcome for our heroes?

C) Ozpin specifically wants Salem to make the mistake of summoning the Gods because he thinks he’s completed his task? Or something? But what in the world would make him think that—especially without seeing Ruby’s message (not to mention the lack of unity that mess should cause)—or what makes him think the Gods would just destroy Salem regardless of what he’s achieved? If summoning the Gods was ever a defeat Salem option, why hasn’t he done it before?

I’m leaning towards A just because it makes the most sense by far, but that would also mean we had Ozpin and Oscar decide on this plan, have a chance to start this plan… and then didn’t actually do anything. Yelling at Hazel for following Salem isn’t a new strategy, they were doing that before, so what’s new? Or has the new strategy not been revealed yet? Idk, as happy as I am to see them being BAMF together, I’m slightly unsure about how it all hangs together. I’d much rather have an internally consistent and clear outcome that’s predictable (Oscar breaks or just holds out until rescue) rather than what appears like a super cool, badass, unexpected plot on the surface… but crumbles once you poke at the foundation a bit.

So whether Oscar and Ozpin started this plan or not, they’re dragged into the throne room where they’re forced to kneel before Salem. Yikes. She sits on her throne with the Hound, who I’m only now realizing could be read as a messed up Toto

We learn that Tyrian heard from Watts about his incarceration and hacking Penny. What? Okay, I took the time to go back through “Amity” just to find this screenshot.

That’s not a working Scroll! Idk what I thought Watts might do with it at the end of last week, but it wasn’t send a full, uninterrupted message to Salem that updates her on everything that’s gone down in Atlas. This thing is toast! Moments like this make me question how much communication there really is between the writers and the animators, despite last Volume’s disaster with Oscar telegraphing his punch like whoa. Are we still getting that level of miscommunication?

Salem then punishes Cinder for disobeying her by hurting her grimm arm. See, this here (for me, anyway) is the mark of a newbie writer. When the moment first started I went, “Oh nice. Just like the shock collar!” Then the scene made that abundantly clear by cutting to flashbacks of Cinder in her collar. That’s too heavy-handed. We already got the parallel, but then the show went, “Do you get it??” It shows that the writers are too scared that the viewers won’t get it, that their nuance will be lost, so they scramble to make it as obvious as possible, rather than trusting in their own writing.

And if you’re like, “So you want RWBY to be more clear and also… less clear?” the answer is, sadly, yes lol. The things that are already confusing due to retconning and inconsistent themes need to be made explicit, whereas the details that are already strong don’t need an in-your-face, “Okay, but did you really get the parallel here? We’re just making sure.” It’s like launching into explaining why a joke is funny when it’s already landed vs. telling a nonsensical joke and then waiting for the laugh that will never come. RWBY struggles in both areas.

Salem delves into this speech about how this is actually all her fault and she should let Cinder spread her wings or something. AKA, go free Watts and track down Penny. Then you can have your precious Maiden powers.

There’s a massive earthquake across Mantle and we watch a + medical symbol go out. Again, heavy-handed. We don’t need that in order to understand that the whole city shaking while the grimm look happily up to the sky is a bad thing.

We cut to Winter listening to the Ace Ops complain about Penny. She tells them to act like the elite they are, likely because she hates how they refer to Penny as “junk.” Still being set up to betray Ironwood, I bet. During this scene we learn that they have “confirmed visual of her leaving Amity. She appeared to be malfunctioning.” So Penny is alive? Also, they have eyes on Amity Tower and were able to see Penny leaving, but didn’t see any of our trio coming to launch it in the first place? Did Ironwood want it to launch? Did they see Cinder? I just don’t know.

Before they can get there though a message from Jaune comes through. Serious kudos to Team JNY for asking that “anyone” respond/taking the personal risk of calling for help in the first place. They’re finally putting—as Harriet says—they’re own selfishness aside in favor of the greater good. Yang obviously hates that it’s “you guys” they ended up with, but she’s not outright attacking the Ace Ops or anything. I’m like,

Excellent job, Yang.

Jaune is a little harsh in his panic. He said in his message that a “large mass of grimm” is heading towards Mantle and then when Harriet leads with asking about Penny, wants to know what’s wrong with her. Why are you asking about Penny when lives are in danger and “it’s” (the grimm) are “right there”? Except he, uh… points at nothing. There’s the chasm with (I presume) the weird grimm goo down it? Not sure based on the shot, but the Ace Ops expected a “mass of grimm” and then land to see no grimm anywhere nearby. So yeah, they’re more focused on the missing Maiden than the seemingly imaginary enemy Jaune is freaking out about.

They only get on board when the river launches itself at Atlas.

So the goo is, like, sentient before it becomes individual grimm? Or Salem is controlling it from her whale? Either way it’s BAD.

I want to briefly gripe about how the hell everyone is watching this. What, is there a camera conveniently trained on this one random part of Atlas’ underside and everyone’s scrolls tuned into that the second the attack started? It seems far-fetched, to put it mildly. In RWBY’s favor though, I want to acknowledge that we finally have appropriate expressions for the situation! This is good!!

I’m going to level with you all. My notifications have known no peace since I made the mistake of criticizing the adored trio that is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. I thought supporting Ironwood would get me heat. Nope. Not supporting the main girls is what did it and honestly? I shouldn’t have been surprised. Last week I pointed out that having them smile and, in Ruby’s case, coo during a moment of horror is not good animation and implies some pretty uncomfortable things about their overall sympathy level. The image in question:

It doesn’t set a good tone, especially when we add in what we’ve gotten for Ruby’s group across the rest of this volume. The counters of, “They need and deserve a break. Why won’t you let them be happy?” fall flat when we ignore that this group has been animated as consistently goofing off post-premiere. Sneaking into the guarded military base of a former friend? Tube shenanigans! Need to find your way around? Funny Penny moment! Semblance reveal? Cutesy chibi explanation! Need to do more sneaking? Silly coffee plan! Nora gets electrocuted? Joke about how awesome that was! Even Wiess telling Whitley to go to his room reads as funny to the audience.

Ruby in particular has been a problem, given that she’s our main character and the others’ leader. We take our emotional cues primarily from her. Alongside being a part of all these fun and games, her animation during more serious moments has been less than stellar. This is Penny when Nora goes down.

This is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. No worry, just focused on the fight.

This is Penny when the fight is over.

This is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. No worry, just chatting about suspicious activity.

This is Penny in the airship, worrying about Nora and the situation they’re in. This is also Ruby in the airship, apparently not worried at all.

This is Ruby when she learns her uncle is in jail. Is there shock? Fear? Horror that he might be in serious trouble? No, she just maintains the same emotion she had before: fury at Harriet.

So when we reach them watching the recording and they look like this:

No, I’m not convinced that this trio is taking the situation seriously, or that they really care about the people involved. I know they’re supposed to care, they all obviously care from a meta perspective, but the “obviousness” of that only exists in our personal understanding of the characters if we don’t see it on screen. I completely believe that Penny is worried about Nora because she’s animated expressing that worry. I completely believe that JRY are in the middle of a warzone because they’re (mostly) animated as fearful and angry. The rest of Ruby’s team has a scared line from Blake and Weiss holding Nora’s hand, whereas the majority of the emotion across this adventure has been indifference or playfulness. That’s a problem given how horrible the events of this Volume have been, most of which the group is aware of.

All of which is an incredibly long-winded way of saying that this

finally feels appropriate. Well done, RWBY.

Alright, this recap is already over 7k long so I want to return to our plot with the summarized: IRONWOOD WAS RIGHT. He said they couldn’t withstand a head on attack by Salem and he was right. It literally took seconds for her grimm to burrow into Atlas, knock out a tower, and disable the shield. Everyone still claiming that leaving is useless because it’s oh so obvious Salem’s grimm could fly however high it wants (when did we learn that?) are ignoring that leaving was at least a plan with some kind of hope attached to it. And, given her focus on the Staff, may have saved Mantle by drawing Salem’s attention away from the city. The point is we don’t know. All we do know is that Ironwood tried to do something in the face of hopeless odds, Ruby’s team stopped him, and now look, everything is awful. No one could have possibly seen that coming.

Salem: “It’s time.”

I’m very pleased that Salem is finally using the tools at her disposal. Upon reflection, I still don’t buy why she had to wait. “Well, she was waiting for the grimm goo.” She couldn’t have used flying grimm to take out the tower? Take a burrowing grimm and give it wings? She couldn’t have used the goo that was apparently inside her whale the whole time?

It’s all very convenient. In the sense that we’re drawing out the volume by having the villain inexplicably hang back, despite not having a good reason to. In the sense that—unless Ruby’s message comes back to bite her—the villain’s passivity also conveniently let the heroes accomplish the one goal they were desperate to achieve. All of that’s still not good, but at least the Volume seems to be moving out of the “not good” category and into the “slightly better” territory.

Although, as I just acknowledged to a friend, RWBY seems to alternate for me. Every time I have an episode where I think, “Okay, there are still massive problems here, but I can see a glimmer of hope” the next episode is inevitably the pits.

Still, grabbing onto that hope with both hands: Atlas should be decimated, folks! Grimm are swarming, our idiot heroes herded everyone directly under the city, the world should be panicking, and the cold should still be killing people if the story remembers that it exists. At this point my only question is wtf our heroes are supposed to do next, but regardless of what the plot gives us, it’s going to be wild. You all know what’s coming. Next week is our final episode before a two month hiatus, which means we’re going to witness all kinds of awful and then end on a six week cliffhanger. It’s inevitable, so best to emotionally prep for that now lol.

I don’t believe we have any Bingo updates, with the exception of edging towards a few: “Winter betrays Ironwood,” “Army of grimm conveniently doesn’t kill any civilians,” “Atlas somehow survives,” and “Ironwood dies” being the most notable. We’ll have to see what, if anything, gets checked off next Saturday.

As always, thank you so much for reading (I feel like I don’t say that enough :D) and I’ll see you next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby recaps #rwby midnight #mymetas

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severetimetravelnerd · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Know (Ft. G Dragon and MINO) (1)

Part 1

When Jiyong goes for Mino’s party, he sees someone he never expected to see

Hiii! So, it’s been a while since I’ve posted and that’s because I’ve been working on a series:)) It’ll be updated once a week, every Friday! No specific time though lol. It’s something different for me, so I hope you really like it! It’s an AUish thing where Jiyong has a younger sister and you’re her best friend! Featuring my OC Mirae as the Best friend. Just saying, it’s not related to any of the scenarios I’ve written so far. Please do leave me some comments or asks! I love receiving them! It’s also a bit of a love triangle situation, so yeah :)) There will be eventual smut in this series.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Taglist:

@kwonnansi

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list:))

Word Count: 2131

WARNINGS: Nothing in this part really. Rejection maybe?

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

“Y/N, I think you’re just confused.”

You laughed, unable to keep the bitterness from it.

“Jiyong, I’ve liked you for years. Years. I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried getting over you. I’ve tried rebounds. I’ve tried denial. I’ve tried avoiding you. None of it works. I know I’m definitely not confused. Kwon Jiyong, I like you.”

He paused and looked at you with dead serious eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

You felt your heart break, little by little.

“Jiyong, I thought there was something here. Was it all me?”

He shook his head.

“I’ve never felt that way about you Y/N, and I’m never going to.”

He got up to leave, but you grabbed his hand.

“Why? What is it about me that makes you feel like you’ll never like me?”

He shot you a scathing and pitying look at the same time.

“Everything.”

And he got up and left you there, alone at the diner at 2 am, slightly tipsy.

Half an hour later, you got a text from him

“Y/N, I don’t think we should talk anymore.”

And god it hurt, it hurt so much. And you knew you still liked him, even after all that.

You still liked him, but you knew he would never see you that way. He had made that abundantly clear. So, you stopped hanging out at places he would go to. He never asked you to, but you didn’t want to see him. It would make things a million times worse. You avoided him like the plague. You stopped going to parties he would be there for. You became a recluse and the only one allowed into your shell was Mirae. She didn’t know who the guy was. She just knew what happened and how that made you feel. And she was there for you every step of the way. She would have been supportive of you liking him. You just didn’t tell her because you didn’t want her to be caught in an awkward place if you were rejected by her brother, which you were. You avoided him so much that you didn’t see him for three years after that. Even though you live in the same city. Those three years, you dedicated to you. You still liked him, but you buried that at the back of your mind, forgetting that it existed. Out of sight, out of mind. You were your priority. Which is why, when you met Mino, things were different. You were determined not to let Jiyong ruin this aspect of your life as well.

You met Mino when you were walking your dog and your dog got away from you only to attack Mino with cuddles. That’s when you offered to buy him coffee to make up for it. He laughed and said that there wasn’t much to make up for and he prefers tea anyway. The moment he said that, you knew you had to find out more, because you were a tea person too. You were just about to offer to buy him tea at this great place you knew when he interrupted your thoughts with a light cough and a small blush.

“Actually, I’m a little messy right now, so I have to go home and change. Do you want to come home with me? I make a great cup of tea. Of course, no pressure, but”

You cut him off. You didn’t usually like to go random places with strangers, but you decided, on a whim, that this guy was worth getting to know. And you were right.

“I’d like that. I’m Y/N. Please to meet you.”

With an adorably shy smile, he responded.

“I’m Minho.”

Mino liked you, right from the start, but you were a lot more cautious when it came to liking people in general. And the thing is, Mino wasn’t like any of your rebounds. You cared about him. He was a really nice guy. So completely refreshingly different from Jiyong. Mino was sweet, adorably nervous and Jiyong just oozed cold confidence, the utmost surety in anything he did. You weren’t comparing. You didn’t even think about Jiyong anymore. Mino had given you the ability to forget him. For the first time in seven years, you stopped liking Jiyong. Which is why things with Mino were different.

You were just friends with Mino. Close friends. But one day, things changed. It was his birthday. There was going to be a party in the night. You went over a little earlier to spend some time with him and give him his present. He knew you were going to. Which is why he was so nervous. Because he planned on asking you out that night. He knew it was a bad idea. If you rejected him, on his birthday, it would really suck. And he was having second thoughts about it until you walked through the front door. You were wearing an oversized t shirt and some shorts, and you had a gigantic bag with you. You would change into your clothes for the party later. You wanted to be comfortable around him. And you took his breath away. You always did. What you were wearing never mattered. He knew he had to tell you.

“Hey hon, I got you brownies. And that’s not even your birthday gift.” (You had a habit of calling people terms of endearment.)

Before you could turn around and tell him about his birthday gift, that you were super excited about, he grabbed you hand and turned you around, so that you were facing him. One look at him and you could tell that he was nervous.

“Hey, what’s wrong Minho?”

He took in a couple of deep breaths, telling himself that he should just get it over and done with.

“Y/N, I like you. Will you go out with me?”

You froze. You knew he liked you. And if he had asked you any earlier, you would have said no, because you didn’t want him to get hurt because of your unresolved issues. But you were sure now, Mino helped you get over Jiyong. Because without even thinking about it, Jiyong stopped being a suppressed part of you that you never thought about. The part of you that was toxic for yourself. And just left. It was gone. For the first time in years, you took out that old phone where Jiyong texted you about not talking anymore. Whenever you used to look it, it always used to hurt. But now, you felt nothing. You were taking a bit of time to answer without realising it, and suddenly, you looked up, realising that Minho had stopped holding your hand. His face had fallen. It was obvious what he thought you were going to say.

“No, it’s okay Y/N. Don’t worry. I get it.”

“What? Minho, no, listen to me.”

“I know what you’re going to say.”

You couldn’t stop the light smile from appearing on your face.

“Why do you look so sad if you know I’m saying yes?”

It took him a second to register what you were saying and when he did, he jumped up, eyes lit up and mouth wide open.

“Wait, Y/N, are you saying?”

“Yes, Song Minho. I like you. And I would love to go out with you.”

And before you knew what was happening, he lifted you up with one arm around your waist, the other cupping your cheek and kissing you.

You got ready for the party after that. Minho was adorably hyped about introducing you as his girlfriend to all his friends. You put on your dress. It was a teal satin slip dress, with spaghetti straps and a cowl neck, with only two straps criss-crossing for a back. Yeah, you were planning on seducing Minho earlier but now you didn’t have to. It went down till the middle of your thighs, and you were wearing black thigh high net stockings with it with these gorgeously strappy black heels. You put on some minimal gold jewellery and you stepped out of the room, to show Minho, wanting to know what he thought. He was in the living room, in some ripped jeans, a black vest and a Burberry blazer. He looked great, especially since he brought out the lip piercing and his really nice Burberry tartan boots. Suddenly, you felt rather shy. Coughing softly to get his attention, you waited for him to turn around. Mino was on the phone with a friend, giving him directions to his apartment when he heard you cough and he turned out. He was mind blown. God, you looked so fucking beautiful. He was speechless.

“Yeah, I’ll have to call you back.”

And he cut the call, looking at you in awe. You felt a little shy.

“Is this a bit too much Minho? Should I change?”

“What?! No, Y/N, so look stunning. Change if you’re uncomfortable, of course, but I think you look amazing.”

You turned around, letting him see the backless part of the dress.

“You don’t think this is too much?”

He came up to you from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss at the nape of your neck.

“I think it’s lovely.”

You blushed. You liked your outfit, but something didn’t seem right to you. you turned around and looked at Mino. Bingo. You knew what was missing. Sounding a little sheepish, you asked him,

“Minho, can I borrow a black leather jacket to go with this?”

His eyes lit up.

“Sure Y/N.”

He loved it when you wore his clothes.

The party was going great and Mino was so excited and happy the whole night. He was so happy things worked out. He was busy introducing you to all his friends, and you were so busy trying to talk to them and remember their names that you didn’t realise that someone you knew has just walked in.

Jiyong walked in a little late, because he had to go pick up a present for Mino. He knew it was a little lazy, but he just picked a good bottle of wine. Mino was like a brother to him. He could just pick up something nicer for him later. As he smiled at the people he knew and got himself settled with a drink, he tried searching for Mino, wanting to wish him in person. He smiled when he saw him. He had the brightest smile Jiyong had ever seen on his face. He was talking to a few of his friends, blushing a little at something one of them said. There was someone else there with them too. A girl. Jiyong could see her heels and a bit of her hair through the crowd. The crowd parted a little. Okay, wow. A really hot girl. He still couldn’t see her face because of Mino’s friends, but he could see that Mino was looking at the girl with pure adoration and had his arm wrapped around her waist. Jiyong smiled. Maybe Mino had finally gotten a girlfriend. Good. Jiyong was happy for him.

Mino suddenly turned and saw Jiyong. His face lit up and he grabbed your hand and wove through the crowd.

“Hyung, I’m so glad you’re here!”

Jiyong raised his glass and leaned in for a hug.

“Happy Birthday Mino!”

Mino smiled and finally helped you through the crowd. He turned to Jiyong, beaming, and said,

“Hyung, meet my girlfriend Y/N.”

Both of you were in shock.

You recovered pretty quickly and smiled, extending a hand to greet him. Did you want to see him? No. But did that change the way you felt? No.

You smiled and said,

“Hi. I’m Y/N,”

and you were about to introduce yourself when he turned to Mino, and said,

“Sorry, Mino. Give me a few minutes.”

Grabbed your hand, and yanked you away, onto the balcony.

He grabbed your hand so hard that it hurt.

“What the hell GD?”

His face twisted in confusion.

“GD? When have you ever called me that?”

“We’re practically strangers to each other. What else would I call you?”

His face darkened with an uninterpretable expression.

“Why’re you here? How did you meet him? Why did you disappear? I tried texting you and calling you, but you blocked me.”

“New number. And why did you call?”

“Why didn’t you come home?”

“I didn’t want to see you.”

“You hate me that much?”

“Yes.”

“This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Does Mirae know?”

“Yeah, she loves Minho.”

Minho walked out onto the balcony, for the first time being vaguely assertive. He was worried about you.

He wrapped his arms around you protectively and raised an eyebrow,

“What’s going on? You know Y/N, hyung?”

#kpop scenarios #kpop angst #g dragon scenarios #mino scenarios #kpop series #g dragon angst #mino fluff #kpop #kpop fluff #angst #fluff #g dragon #kwon jiyong #mino #song minho #bigbang scenarios #winner scenarios #fanfiction

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Text

Face Turn - Tag Team

It’s once again time for some more Face Turn!

I hope y’all are liking Weiss and Yang’s dynamic, because their fans sure do... a bit too much in fact

this chapter is definitely not just me roasting real people shippers lol

ANYWAY here’s the AO3 link and on with the fic

While Weiss and Yang’s relationship progressed outside the ring, so did it do inside it as well. Though they haven’t directly had any rematches yet, they have insulted and challenged each other constantly and Weiss had to admit that shit talking her friend was one of the best parts of her job.

The other great part was kicking people’s shit in and then hearing their fans boo her out of the ring.

She had made a big deal of ‘putting all of them in their place’ and she was doing her best to make good on those words. It truly seemed that only Yang would be able to beat her now and the build up for their rematch was fast approaching.

Poor Yang on the other hand just couldn’t catch a break and had to deal with so many heels coming after her while she was still ‘recovering’. One of those vultures happened to be a man by the name of Mercury Black, and Weiss was on her way to ruin his day.

So the plan here was pretty simple. Yang would be exhausted from all those fights she hadn’t fully recovered from and Mercury would take that opportunity to take her down, but before he had the chance, Weiss would interfere and beat up Yang too, disqualifying Mercury and saving Yang once more.

She was Weiss’s rival after all, she couldn’t have someone else beating her up.

She got her cue and made her way to the ring, unannounced. Casually she leaned against the structure and threw in some insults as she watched the fight unfold. It was only when he had Yang backed into a corner that she grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head against the turnbuckle.

The judge called it there, disqualifying Mercury for outside interference.

“I didn’t need your help!” Mercury shouted, right up to her face.

“Oh please, like I care about you,” she scoffed, “now be a nice loser and go sulk backstage.”

They sized each other up and braced to fight right then and there, but the judge interrupted them again and made Weiss leave the ring.

“Do try to make a better show of it next time,” she taunted Yang on her way out, “it wouldn’t do to have you lose to every punk with an attitude.”

Yang could only sneer through her bloodied face. Lilac eyes stared at her, promising revenge in front of the whole camera crew. She had to admit, Yang was a fantastic actor.

Her taunting grin never left her face as she walked back through the booing crowd, not offering any of the fans even a glance as she made her way backstage.

That is until she noticed the one person cheering her heart out. It was a younger person with a sign that read ‘Freezer Burn 4 Life’. Weiss had no idea what that meant, but the fan kept cheering her and pointing at the sign.

Didn’t matter, she did her job and it was time to go back to the changing room.

“Schnee,” Mercury called as soon as he saw her, “that was the biggest dick move I’ve ever seen.”

He marched up to her, studied for a second and then offered his fist.

Weiss punched it.

“Nice!” He laughed, “think we can talk Blake into scheduling a fight for us?”

She chuckled, “I’ll see what I can do.”

On her way out she stopped by Yang’s side, just to give her a slap on the first non-bruised surface she could find and say, “see you at the Fang tomorrow.”

And so they did just that, but what she didn’t expect was for them to have a visitor.

Weiss nearly jumped on her seat when she heard a noise coming from her left and turned around to glare at the person, just to recognize her favorite writer sitting down and ordering a drink.

“Right, forgot about the blindspot, sorry” Blake apologized.

She didn’t really say anything back, just shook her head and turned back to her drink. No point in bringing attention to the humiliation.

“Hey, Blakey,” Yang greeted, “is it your turn to share your tragic backstory over some drinks?”

“There’s no amount of alcohol that can get me to share that mess,” she joked, or at least they hoped she joked, “actually I was more interested to hear from you. Have you two been checking your social media lately?”

“Eh,” Yang shrugged, “not much outside of the usual promo stuff.”

“And I have better shit to do than scroll through twitter all day,” besides, it strained her eyes too fast for her to enjoy it.

“So I take it neither of you have seen the hashtag ‘Freezerburn’ before, right?” She asked, already pulling out her phone.

“I think I saw someone carrying a sign about that yesterday,” Yang commented.

“Yeah it was some random fan during your last match,” she elaborated, “they seemed really intent on making me see it.”

Blake took in a sharp breath through her teeth as she looked awkwardly between the two of them.

“I don’t know how to say this but,” Blake braced herself, before turning the phone towards them, “your fans started shipping you.”

There was a moment of silence as they tried to process what had just been said. This was made entirely more difficult by the fact that what Blake was showing them was simply surreal.

Hundreds of tweets under that stupid tag, ranging from short messages in all caps about how they were meant for each other, to long and elaborately edited videos of just about every second they’ve spent together in public.

It was bizarre.

Worse still was the knowledge that their match from the previous day had only added fuel to this fire they had no idea had been burning in the first place. It all filled Weiss with a profound discomfort that she couldn’t quite put into words.

“What the fuck?” Was her only response.

“Not this shit again,” was Yang’s.

Blake just sighed and ordered another round on her.

“What the fuck!?” She repeated, much louder this time.

“I should have seen this coming,” Blake said, “I should have taken some sort of precaution to make sure this wouldn’t happen.”

“Do they fucking know how disrespectful this shit is?” She was nearly shouting now, “Do they know how fucking creepy they look?”

“No and no,” Yang sighed, “and trust me, Blake, there’s nothing we could have done. If they get it in their heads that we're a couple then nothing in the world is gonna convince them otherwise.”

“You sound like you have way too much experience with that,” Blake said.

Yang took another long sip of her drink, before she could answer.

“It was back when I was doing Indie stuff,” she began, “it wasn’t nearly as big as this, but back then I had been in a tag team with this girl called Neo. People would hound us for info on our relationship and shout that we should kiss any time we won a match. It was really creepy, especially considering Neo was already in a relationship at the time. It was just…”

Yang shuddered.

“Okay that’s fucking it, next time I see someone with a Freezer Burn sign, I’m ripping it in half,” Weiss declared.

“Don’t actually do that,” Yang pleaded, “they’ll just take it as confirmation that we’re secretly crushing on each other or something. The more you bring attention to it the worse it gets.”

“So should we change the plot line maybe?” Blake offered, “keep the rivalry, but tone down the ‘only I get to beat you’ aspect of it?”

“I guess that could work,” Yang shrugged. With a gesture towards the three of them and the bar in general, she added, “maybe we should tone this down as well.”

“What!?”

“You know, they haven’t found this place yet, but every time we meet outside of the arena we’re risking just fueling their weird shit,” Yang explained and Weiss was having none of that.

“Fuck that!” She interjected, “I’m not sacrificing this shit over some internet weirdos. If they wanna be creepy then that’s on them, but I get to decide how I spend my free time and I’m gonna spend it with my fucking friends!”

This had been the best thing to have happened to her in well over a year and she was not letting it be hijacked by some obsessive creeps.

“D’aww, you see me as a friend?” Yang teased, and suddenly Weiss agreed that maybe they should spend less time together.

#rwby #Freezer burn #freezerburn #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #fanfic #wrestling au

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crazynekochan · 4 years

Text

Okay, I have an idea for a AU. It comes based on how, aside from the pretty factor, we never really get to see Junko use her Ultimate Gyaru Talent in her plans. I was inspired by hearing about the Amekaji or 'American Casual' subculture of Gyaru and thinking "hey, yknow who this style reminds me of? Kazuichi" A quick reference to some samples before I get into my idea:

(Please excuse the fact that I didn't crop the screenshots)

Anyway- in this AU, I wanted to use how we all wanted Junko to manipulate the Remnants into following her and Kazuichi's trust issues. Junko, finding his talent to be one of the most immediately useful of the class and him to be one of the most easily manipulated and emotion driven of the class, decides to become his best friend! It starts slow, her beginning to hang out with him after classes and eventually during lunch, constant compliments, telling him what he wants to hear, comforting him when he trusts her enough to open up about his issues with trust. Soon enough, she's wormed her way into his circle, becoming his closest friend. He reveals that he didn't chose his appearance for his own happiness but for his image and she pounces. She insists that she can give him a glow-up- give him a partial overhaul. Help him with the god awful layering in his hair, maybe even make Sonia like him (or Gundham, depending on whether or not he has realized his feelings for him/given up on his crush on her if he has one at the start of this au). This is where the Amekaji Gyaru part comes in, she pretty much turns him into one. The way the class gets introduced to this style change is by Chisa coming by to round up Kazuichi when he doesn't come back after lunch. This is an approximation of what I think she would do on such short notice. (He was meant to have an expression but I gave up on that front on the sketch to have an easier go at designing his clothes without obstruction or scruntiching). Oh yeah, it's an Omegaverse AU btw, because I am predictable and pathetic lol.

I kinda want to make a fic with this and I'm planning on using Gundham's POV because he already likes Kazuichi before Junko began sinking her claws into him and he wound be concerned and conflicted from the get go. Because while Junko is very much using Kazuichi (though they don't catch onto that aspect right away), she's boosting his confidence. He's happy to have a best friend who cares about him seemingly unconditionally. But they also realise that he's becoming obsessive in a way that she's certainly not discouraging. He's always talking about her, texting her, hanging out with her, he even picks up some of her traits. At one point someone (Fuyuhiko most likely) would comment along the lines of "what are you in love with her or something" and Kazuichi would respond with something like "oh of course not! Junko deserves much more than me!" Or something equally self-deprecating and out of character like that. It's not healthy.

He would voluntarily watch the brainwashing video with Mikan (like in the Siren AU), believing that Junko just wanted to show him something cool. He would despair at the betrayal, since the despairs are aware enough to realise things like that. If he contracts the Remembrance disease, he would probably go for the convincing Ibuki into suicide route like in the Siren AU, for the opportunity to watch the despair. I love the idea of having an active despair in the cast and with this AU, instead of him just continuing to be devoted to Junko like in the Siren AU, I wanted him to actually come around as a Despair to Hope because of the others. Hajime is there now, he would've begun to be friends with Kazuichi and continue after Kaz remembers and he, being the good boy that Hajime is, actually treats Kazuichi like a real friend should. He didn't get to become close to Fuyuhiko before Junko got to him so he also becomes friends with him. Also, of course, Soudam happens. I'd imagine that they would make him come around enough to rebuke the Junko AI in the end.

Kazuichi definitely would feel guilty as hell when this is all said and done, however, the class would also feel guilty for letting him fall into Junko's clutches too. Also, the greater trauma of him knowing that his second best friend after the one in middle school pulled the same shit but worse? 👌👌👌. I have other sketches of them hat I plan to colour, so I'll be back. I'll link you the fic once I write it. Tell me what you think about this, please! Spare no thought! Oh yeah, I'm mentally calling this the Gyaru AU

---

Mod: It will never stop being huge wasted potential that Junko didn’t manipulate all the Remnants by using their trauma and weaknesses, and specifically chose them for their useful talents like it was implied in the game, and instead just went with them being chosen at random because they were Ryota’s classmates

Having Kazuichi be Junko’s first victim is perfect, because with his talent he is super useful to her and can easily make her unstoppable the moment she has him under her control. And with his trust issues and straight up need to have a friend in his life he would be an easy target for someone like Junko, who can very quickly play him like a fiddle. Let him vent to her, tell him what he wants to hear, give him confidence and then put him into his place so that he becomes her loyal dog who sees her like some god who will do anything to please her, just like Mikan did. Until she then finally breaks him by betraying him like his best friend did in the past. The pain must be so unbearable for the poor guy. I feel really bad for him, but at this point the brainwashing is already in place sadly, so he will just get some high from being used and betrayed all over again and again

Kazuichi going through the simulation way past getting infected and having all of his memories must be such a trip. Because he has to pretend like nothing is amiss while everything else is going on and make sure that no one notices his change in character (Which could be hard for him to do, since he doesn’t seem like a good actor) I could even see him during the last trial to try and push the others into doing the wrong choice until they manage to make him believe in hope again and having trust in his friends that they will not betray him ever. Which must be so hard for him to believe after being lied to so many times by people he trusted blindly, where Junko even made him and the others do such horrendous things. But it wouldn’t be DR if hope doesn’t win in the end and everyone manages to have a future

Though the most hurtful part must be seeing everything from Gundham’s POV, because he is stuck with having to watch how Junko is getting close to Kaz. Which is at first of course a nice thing on the outside, but when Kaz starts getting seriously degrading about himself it’s really getting concerning but it’s already too late. Even more painful for Gundham when he might have had a bad feeling about the “friendship” but has pushed it onto him probably just being jealous or something and as such never intervened when he really should’ve done so, because then all of this could’ve been avoided where Kaz was turned into a pupped who got to build the most brutal killing machines imaginable for Junko’s absolute insane plan of creating a world of despair. When the truth comes to light he would be feeling such immense guilt over not having seen the signs and came to help Kaz when he still had the chance (Could be even something Junko could use against Gundham, both back at HPA and in the last trial if he’s still alive at that time in the AU)

Also the artwork of Kaz after his makeover looks sooo good! He is beyond cute and it mixes so well his actual nerdy aesthetic he had before with something more fun and colourful (quite literally) ♥♥

#submission #soudam #au #Gyaru Au #mediamaxine #danganronpa #omegaverse

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lesbian-deadpool · 5 years

Text

“Soulmates”

Part One Of Three: Everything Hurts

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,339

Warnings: Unrequited love, relationship difficulties, cannon storyline (its a warning try me lol), I think that’s it.

Request: For the anon who donated to the Australian Bushfires, who wanted angst. Well, you got it, buddy.

Summary: You were her soulmate. But she wasn’t yours.

A/N: Thanks to @missmonsters2 for helping me out with this idea. Parts of this fic are inspired by ‘Peach Scone by Hobo Johnson and The LoveMakers’ I so hope this was angsty enough.

(Not my GIF)

***

You were being pushed through the door, of your shared apartment, by two hands on your back. The woman they belonged to giggling cutely. Not a care in the world. And only slightly intoxicated.

The door had only just closed behind you when the red-head had helped you spin around to face her. Your lips colliding fiercely, as soon as your eyes met.

Natasha was tugging at your clothes, as were you with hers, frantically trying to find the zipper to her tight dress.

You guys had just gotten back from one of Tony Stark’s infamous parties and were near enough running on pure bliss. It was the last one you would be attending for a while. As it was yours and Natasha’s leaving party and wouldn't be in the tower enough to attend every party. You enjoyed yourselves, no matter how bittersweet it was. You were sad that you were retiring from the superhero life, but were over joked to be starting this new chapter with your fiancé.

And you knew the perfect way to finish off the celebration.

“Leaving with a bang” as they say.

“Natasha?” You asked, shaking the Black Widow gently, I mean, you weren’t entirely insane, “Natasha?”

With a mumble she awoke, blinking groggily at your face, using her arms to lift her up off her stomach slightly, from where she had fallen asleep on the common room’s sofa.

“You were whimpering,” you told her, with a worried look on her face, “Are you okay?”

“Umm...”

How was she supposed to tell you she was having a sex dream about you, where you had the life she wished you had together?

“Yeah, it was just a nightmare.”

That’s right! She wasn’t.

“I’m fine now,” she said standing up, “Thanks for waking me.”

“Anytime.” You smiled, cocking your head to the side. And Natasha swore she didn't know she could fall for you any harder.

“Well, see you around, Y/N,” Natasha uttered, beginning to make her way to her bedroom.

“Oh, yeah, shoot! I gotta meet Penny for our date. Bye, Nat!”

Ah, Penny. The woman Natasha hated for no other reason than the fact that she was with you. You. Perfect, wonderful, you.

The love of Natasha’s life.

Now, Natasha wasn’t one to believe in the childish theory of soulmates.

But if she were to think about the term ‘soulmates’, and picked it apart to its very core, converting it into a science. Now science. Natasha believed science. And she would be left with no other reason than to believe with everything she had, that you two were meant to be.

That you were “soulmates”.

Or as close as you could get.

But, sadly. Life never worked out in Natasha’s favour.

As you believed that Penny was the closest thing you could get to a soulmate. As did your brunette girlfriend. And the rest of the fucking world!

The team and high-level S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents commenting on how perfect you two were together when she came over to visit. How you two were “meant to be”.

Natasha could hardly bare it. Sadness filling her up to her brim every time she saw you together, you, or if somebody else mentioned her, anything that involved you two together.

She hated it. With a tearful passion. It made knots appear in her stomach, and twist so unnaturally, that she thought she could be ripped in half by the wrenching pain. Absolutely nauseous, as she had to fight off tears tooth and nail.

But no matter how heartbroken Natasha was, that you had found, the seemingly, perfect person, that sadly wasn't her. She was happy for you. Beyond so. All she wanted was for you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with her like she wished.

She loved you. And you were happy. And at the heart of it all, that’s all that truly mattered.

“Bye!” she could only call out softly, as you disappeared in the elevator. Wanting, more than anything, to be able to ask you ‘not to go’, to ‘stay with her, please’, to ‘realise how much she is in love with you’, and beg for you to ‘give her a chance’. But she didn’t. And she never would. For as long as you were with your ‘one and only’. Natasha wasn’t even sure you had heard her say her goodbye.

With a frown, the Assassin sullenly walked away, towards her bedroom, where her sheets, crappy daytime TV reruns, and her many thoughts of you, to keep her company until she inedibility fell into an uneasy sleep.

***

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Natasha smiled as soon as she saw you sitting in the common room, her smile dropping when she noticed how you sad you looked, “Y/N?”

You gave an unceremonious groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. Natasha quickly coming to sit by your side.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, hand coming to caress at the back of your neck comfortingly, whilst the other rested just above your knee.

“Penny and I had a fight.”

You felt Natasha’s grip tense but thought nothing of it.

“What happened?” Natasha asked, voice slightly harder than it was before.

You sighed.

“She said I spent too much time here. Working. Whatever.”

“Well, you are an Avenger. You kind of need to be here a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.” You nodded. “But... it just felt like she was giving me an ultimatum, y’know?”

Natasha thought about your situation for a short while, her hand that was previously on your neck, now rubbing up and down your back.

How could she do this to you?

You were trying to save the world, fighting so that she, and everyone else, could live without fear. Day in, day out, this is what you did. You managed to balance the hero life and your life with her, better than anyone she had ever seen.

And yet, that still wasn't enough.

Natasha wanted to say all those things. Every single one of them.

But she knew it would only make things worse.

So much worse.

So instead she said the things that you wanted her to say. That she would want if she was in your situation. The things she could tell were true.

“I’m sure she’ll come around, you just gotta give her time to think it through.”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, thinking about Natasha’s words deeply, “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Nat.”

“It’s no problem.”

It was a problem. It was a big heart-wrenching problem. But she vowed to never tell you that.

***

A coo from Wanda made Natasha look over her shoulder, to where the brunette witch was leaning over the kitchen island. Following her gaze, she saw what Wanda was looking as. It was you. And Penny. On the couch, huddled together doing a crossword together, as your hand brushed through her hair.

A look of disdain broke through Natasha’s conceded barrier. Hurt shining in her eyes, but still unable to remove them from your forms.

Unknown to the red-head, she had moved to stand beside Wanda.

“Natasha?” Wanda called out to her, regaining her attention.

“Huh?”

Natasha schooled her features and turned to the younger woman.

“Sorry, what did you say, Wanda?”

Giggling, she repeated herself, “I said: Don’t you think they belong together, Nat?”

She took another long look at you two. Seeing how happy you looked together.

“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding sadly. Feeling like her heart was about to tear in half, and be ripped right out through her chest at the same time, “They’re happy.”

“Are you okay, Nat?”

“Hmm? Yeah,” Natasha said, she could tell that Wanda doubted her. Damn you, and your ability to make her well-tuned skill break, without actually doing anything. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“You just seem... sad?” The young brunet cocked her head to the side, obviously worried about Natasha. But not quite there to knowing why Natasha seemed off, somehow.

“I’m fine, Wanda. Just a little tired.”

“Oh. Well, maybe I could make you some tea tonight, to help you sleep?”

“That would be nice.” Natasha smiled. “Thank you, Wan.”

Natasha was still in the kitchen.

Wanda had left to go chat with Clint about something.

So while she was minding her own business, flicking through a random cookbook that was left upon the counter, from when Wanda had used it the day before. Sipping the coffee from her steaming cup.

When a voice drew her attention towards them.

“Hi.”

Penny.

The brunette was pleasant enough, a bright smile tugging on her face.

Natasha faced her fully, glancing over to where you now sat chatting with Tony. The ex-playboy talking animatedly, probably something he was currently working on. Your face split into a grin, excited to hear what he was making, throwing you ideas at him, which made the both of giddy like school children.

A smile tugged at the corner of Natasha’s lips at the sight, then she remembered the woman standing in front of her.

“Hi, Penny,” she greeted, “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I just thought that I’d come and hi.” Penny shrugged. “We haven’t really talked that much. And I know how much you mean to Y/N, and how much she would love it if we got to know each other a bit better.”

Oh, what fresh hell is this? Natasha thought.

“This is technically the first time we’ve properly spoken,” she continued, her nervousness showing through at Natasha’s silence.

Yeah, there’s a reason for that. Just can’t tell you.

Now, Natasha wasn't entirely cruel. But she had to admit that she wanted to see the girl squirm, only because of her disdain for you and her being together.

But wanting and doing, were very different things entirely.

“Oh, yeah. Y/N has told me so much about you,” Natasha said, making Penny smile. And Natasha remembered that she had no right to hate her as much as she did, “All of the things you do for her. How much you love her,” she listed off. “It’s so great. Y/N deserves it. You should keep doing those things.”

“I don’t ever plan on stopping,” Penny told her honestly, that bright smile still on her face.

Natasha pulled a tight-lipped smile, one that conveyed sadness. But lucky for her, Penny couldn’t read her the way her friends could, or at all, really.

“Yeah, they’re so great. Y/N was one of the first people to care for me when no one else did. I don’t think I ever felt love until I met her.” At this moment Natasha hated herself, because of the word vomit pouring out of her mouth.

Penny cooed softly. “Well, that’s my, Y/N.” Poor, clueless Penny.

Natasha hated her calling you, ‘her Y/N’. She had glanced down when Penny said that, hiding the tears that started to burn behind her eyes.

God. She couldn’t handle this much longer.

“She’s so lucky to have friends like you.”

‘Friends’.

“I’m lucky to have them.”

And she was.

Natasha felt so fucking lucky, that she was graced with a person like you. With all the things she had ever done. With all the pain she caused. The hell she has made. You. For some strange, unknown reason, chose to look at her with your bright eyes, looking past all that. Making Natasha feel like the only person in the world, you would ever look at like that.

Then you met Penny.

And now she truly knew what you looked like when you saw someone as your one and only. Because she would watch you look at Penny that way.

That’s when she realised you would never look at her that way. And she was stupid enough to believe you had seen her that way before.

So, Natasha was left alone, with the thoughts of you, and being with you. Like she always had.

“I don’ want her to get hurt, y’know?” Natasha said, but before Penny could reply, she continued, wanting nothing more than to get out of there, and that situation, which hurt her more than she liked to admit, “Good for you guys, though. For finding each other. I’m so happy for you.”

She’s lying through her fucking teeth right now. But at the same time, she meant every word she spoke.

Because, who was Natasha to get in between two people, who believed they had found the love of their life.

“Well.” Natasha pointed over her shoulder, with her thumb, in the direction of the room's exit. “I’ve got things I need to do. So... see you around, Penny.”

“Oh,” Penny said surprised at Natasha’s sudden leave, calling to the red-head as she walked away, “Okay, bye Natasha! It was nice talking to you!”

“You too, Penny.”

***

“Natasha?”

“Y/N?” Natasha spun around, her voice breathless, praying beyond everything that it wasn’t happening to you too. If the world were to do anything for her, just once, grant her one wish. She hoped it would be this one.

But life was never that fair, was it?

You looked away from your slowly vanishing hands and into Natasha’s eyes, they were quickly filling with tears. Taking a step towards her, you almost stumbled, and the red-head rushed to you.

Natasha held you in her arms, slowly lowering you to the ground, letting you rest partly in her lap. She rocked back and forth, as tears splashed across your face.

“Hey. Hey. Don’t cry,” you said, feeling the energy rapidly leaving your body. You knew this was the end. Yet all you could care about was Natasha crying above you. Because of you. And what was happening to you.

“Please,” she begged softly, watching your eyes slowly close, “Please don't leave me.”

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, as your body quickly turned to ash.

“I’m in love with you.”

Was the last thing she ever got to say to you, in a heartbroken whisper. And that was the last thing you heard.

Then you were gone.

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU #slight flashing gif #tw flashing gif #kinda

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