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roseamonglilies · 2 years

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Love and Legacy : Part II

Viktor x Lab Assistant!Reader ▪︎ Part II of V

Part I ▪︎ Part III ▪︎ Part IV ▪︎ Part V

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Some sexual content, sexual tension, im blue-balling you bitches, Viktor is still adorable no matter what, maybe angst (?) (idk it depends on how edgy you’re feeling)

A/N: It’s a bit shorter than I would have liked, but I wanted to get this out as soon as I could. I didn’t proof this either, so its possible there are chunks missing. Also should I keep the borders? I kinda like it.

An hour passed before you finally entered the lab. Jayce greeting you with his usual good morning wearing the same stellar smile of his you’d grown used to seeing. When your work with him had first started, you could have sworn you’d eventually go blind just by how white Jayce’s teeth were. You mumbled a reply, trying your best to reflect the same amount of joy, but your attention instantly drifted to Viktor once you noticed he was present too, tinkering on some small contraption. The hand in your pocket tightened. The piece it held, his tie, wound tightly around your fingers. The fabric felt like silk under your fingers.

He turned to meet, slipping a pair of blue-lensed goggles off his face. Circled indentions had already formed around his eyes as Viktor scanned you. Had you not been so preoccupied with acting ignorant in front of Jayce, you were sure his stare alone would have stopped you in your tracks. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, causing his collar to flare out distractingly. You could see his collarbone through the opening in his shirt, and the skin below it from a distance. One could only imagine what you could see up close. Despite the reddened indentions, his eyes had lightened drastically; they seemed so much sharper, piercing yours with a solidity that rocked you.

They shifted downwards, thinking about something you couldn’t guess. His eyes flickered back up to you for a fraction more before turning back to his work, wordlessly. He hadn’t even smiled or bothered greeting you.

A series of heavy clangs broke your line of thought, snapping you back to the present, and you had to remind yourself that you had your own work to do. There was a crick in your neck from the loveseat’s armrest. A pulsating pain that would likely worsen as the day went on.

Jayce had gone off on his own tangent, testing the atlas gauntlet of which he was so proud. Meaning Viktor was left to work on his own. For a good few moments, you watched him; he was adjusting the complex wiring of his hex claw. Apparently the early trials deemed the laser to be a bit too trigger happy, and he’d been trying to find a way to control its activation. There had been times, admittedly, when he or whoever wore the control-glove had almost lost a finger due to it’s jankiness. He seemed fixed on the machinery on the table in front of him, his lips were pursed thin, as he combed through the wires, occasionally refitting one to another point and then observing how the claw reacted.

Time crept on steadily, and despite the events of last night and this morning, you managed to keep yourself busy without distraction. Though it was oddly quiet since you did little to join in on any odd conversation between the two men. It was almost easy to drift into a world of your own, in which the only existent things were you and your duties. Especially since you were simply do a re-run of everything you’d done yesterday, it all seemed go blend smoothly between thought and action.

The experiment was fairly simple: you were to take a small sample of a plant that had come in contact with the hexcore, mix it in a solution of chemicals, and record any abnormalities or change in nature. As of now, nothing had occurred. You were growing nervous that the week you’d dedicated to this task was becoming a waste, but you continued. If not for the sake of finishing the data, at least in the hope that you might be proved wrong. But, as of now, every single specimen you’d tested had no change from the other, and it was clearly beginning to frustrate you.

Hours passed before the peaceful silence was broken.

“Having trouble thinking?”

His voice drifted into your ear in a whisper, softer than an ocean breeze. Apparently you’d zoned out for quite some time whilst watching the vials slowly change from a vibrant green to a mix of blues and browns. One in particular shone a pearly shade of yellow.

You could smell how close he was before you looked. Coffee and brown sugar, more fresh than the blanket from this morning, stronger, as his scent overwhelmed your senses; he must have just had a fresh cup. A part of you wondered if he liked it sweet or strong, but just entertaining the idea sent a wave of other thoughts through you.

You turned in your seat.

Viktor was inches, less than inches from your face. His breath fanned your face, and you felt the same coolness wash over your as you had this morning. It seemed to fan the flame that was spreading across your cheeks.

Wide-eyed you returned his gaze, biting your tongue when you realized what he was staring at. There were specks of dandelion in his otherwise brilliant gold irises. The hue reminded you of the short hour just before sunset, of a cloudless sky stained with the sun’s radiance that filled you with a sense of warmth unlike any other. As you found yourself drowning in their brilliance, you, for a moment, felt like Icarus, foolishly flying into the sun, fixated, unable to turn away. And like Icarus, it would only take a little more heat to make you fall too close, too much.

You had to fight to keep your knees from buckling when they moved from your lips to meet your eyes. They were calm, concentrated, analyzing the emotions you couldn’t hope to hide.

Your thoughts then crossed to Jayce, and you realized just how stale the room had been for the last 20 minutes without his constant talking. He must have left to get some food; the sun was almost set after all. You likely had as much time before his return. Before he would question the odd display.

“I must admit, I’ve had other things on my mind as well...” His eyes once again shifted, to an indeterminate spot on your check, frowning when doing so. A small exhale left his mouth, and he tilted his head ever-so-slightly in amusement. “Did you know you have ink on your face?”

“A-ah, no, I...” Your words caught in your throat when you felt his fingers brush against your neck, palm moving to cup your jaw. Gently, he lifted your face up to a better angle, ever closer to his own. Regardless of how delicately his hand felt to your face, the action didn’t cease to cause a shiver that spread from your back up to your neck. You sat in the uncomfortable chair, dumbfounded, unsure of how to process what was happening as he brought his other hand to his lips, slowly dragging his thumb across his tongue. He made an effort to be tender as he wiped away the ink, thumb lingering on your cheekbone when he seemed satisfied. He studied your face a moment longer, before finally giving you much needed space. The departure of his hands left a chill down your neck. You had to remind yourself to breath, though a part of you already missed his touch.

“I was worried that I may have overstepped some boundaries last night, I’ve been... trying to find a way to apologize to you.” He shifted to his right leg, holding onto his cane tightly. His knuckles clutching the crutch were white, trembling, though it hard hard to tell with how tense his entire body was.

“Why?” The question left your lips before you’d thought to ask. He seemed to stall with his answer, yet you wanted to... no, you needed to know.

“I feel... that I may have... taken advantage of the situation we were in last night. It was unprofessional of me, to put you in a situation where you had such little choice-” Your hand found his cheek, and suddenly, his words fell apart. Silently you leaned in, staring right through him. He stared back through a confused frown, eyes somewhat unsure as they searched yours.

“Did it make you uncomfortable?” His frown deepened, and you let your hands fall to his jawline to let him speak. Inches, again. Inches close, closing into less. He stole a glance downward when he noticed you bite your lip.

“What?” The question came out hoarse and airy. The sound was almost that of fear, though his eyes told you different.

He struggled with his words. It was kinda cute, the way he grappled with describing what was on his mind. You saw an opportunity in his hesitance.

“Were you uncomfortable last night?” You heart was beating through your chest, heat rising to your checks. If it were going any harder, you were sure the two of you could have heard it in the quiet room. In fact, it was lethally silent, you hadn’t even noticed until now; the loudest thing present was the sound of breathing: one was heavy, the other, uneven. You couldn’t tell whose was whose at this point, all your attention was on him. It was as though all of time and the space that surrounded you was waiting for his answer. “You left before I could ask.”

“N-no, I slept quite well, actually.” He stuttered. You swore you could feel an increase in warmth from the hand that still rested on his face. A shade of pink covered his cheeks. It was then that you realized he was the one with uneven breath; he was the one with irrational thoughts racing through his head. A level of uncertainty flashed in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure if I- well…”

“Then don’t apologize.”

“Miss (Y/n), I feel I must-“

You were about to do something that would change everything, whether that be regret or relief, there was only one way to find out. Months, you’d waited, waited for something to put you two together, and this was it.

“Viktor, do you think I would have invited you inside if I didn’t want you there?” The question made his words fall apart, or, perhaps, it was the way you said his name, the way it slipped off your tongue, as though reciting poetry. His eyes widened, the blush deepened. He processed the question, repeating it in his head, until a certain light of understanding washed over his face. The uncertainty had all but vanished. “You wanna know something?“

“I do.”

You raised your head, and as your lips brushed against the shell of his ear, you could tell just how much he was shaking.

“If you hadn’t needed the sleep so bad, I would have joined you.“

There was an inhale from Viktor as he moved on your words. It took less time for him to step forward, acting on nothing but compulsion and desire, cup both sides of your face, and pull you towards him.

It was a shock at first, being kissed by Viktor. Something you’d only thought possible in dreams. Something you’d only since imagined during late nights, alone in your bed, wondering if he did the same on such nights.

You once wondered how he liked his coffee: Viktor liked it sweet. You could taste the sugar on his tongue as it brushed against yours.

You stood, taking it all in, the feeling, the emotions, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of it.

Your lips connected roughly, eyes shut, both reflecting a hunger that could only be satiated by each other’s embrace. Your hand found its way tangling through his messy hair; it was softer than you imagined. His hands found their way lining down to your waist.

You’d wanted to do this since the day you met Viktor. But, until recently, you thought your relationship would never go beyond that of colleagues. Viktor’s lack of expression was always assumed to be a clear message that he had no interest in romance, but now you understood why it took him so long. Why he seemed so hesitant to your acts of consideration. But now, held against him, you felt nothing but a reflection of validation. You kissed each other with impartial affection. His arms snaked down, further, inch by inch, until they were hooked around your upper thighs.

Wordlessly, he lifted you onto the work table, and you gasped his name against his lips as he pressed his entirety against you, resting snugly between your thighs. It was as if he barely thought about it. How long had he been waiting to do that?

Viktor leaned forward, breaking the kiss and resting his head against your shoulder to catch his breath. His breath pooled down your neck, causing a ripple of goosebumps to form along your skin. Viktor brought a hand to your lower back, slowly pulling you against his waist, trying to minimize any space left. He let out a groan when you wrapped your legs around him in response. A slew of curses left his mouth.

“You’ll be my undoing, Miss (Y/n)…” He hissed in your ear after finally breaking the kiss. The remark made your blush darken tenfold. To imagine Viktor saying something like that, god, it drove you over the edge. He lifted his head, studying your face the same way he did his notes, like he was trying to decipher the meaning, or find what may lie between the lines. They trailed down, memorizing each curve and indention of your body, until they finally rested on the buttons of your shirt. Your chest heaved as he began to fumble with them, hands trembling with what you imagined was a mix of adrenaline and impatience.

However, before he could even reach the third button, something flashed in his eyes, panic, and, without warning, he pulled away completely, making you and the pressure between your legs frustrated. He eyed the door to the lab. You were about to question just what he was doing until you heard it: footsteps, padding towards you. It would seem Jayce’s arrival meant an end to this encounter. Viktor sighed, and ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to brush out the cowlicks you had given him.

“I think it’s best that we leave this for now, unless we want Jayce to see this.” He paused, rolling up his sleeves, eyes shifting from the door back to you. You nearly fell on your ass in an attempt to sit in in your chair, shamefully distracted by his exposed forearms. Clearly, you were more flustered by Viktor’s actions than you’d first thought. He, on the other hand, had somehow managed to portray himself in a manner as if nothing had happened. As you re-buttoned your shirt, his hand caught your chin, pulling your head up to meet his. “Promise me we will continue this conversation another time.”

“I promise.” You nodded, and he returned the nod, a silent promise between you and him. Before he could step away, however, your hand caught his. “Wait- you left something in my room.”

Digging in your pocket, you pulled out the red tie, and handed it to him. His eyes flashed from the the tie to you, but he didn’t get the chance to say anything. With the sound of the door opening, he left you to fix yourself. Jayce sauntered in, an armful of food piled in his arms, nonethewiser of what had just occurred.

“Oh hey, you found your tie!”

#viktor arcane #arcane viktor #viktor #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #arcane league of legends #arcane league #viktor fanfiction #arcane fanfic

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bumbleklee · 3 years

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masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

request: ive never requested anything before so sorry if i did anything wrong kdbfksnANYWAYS can you do reader who’s been in a relationship with diluc for a couple of years now and one day they find a box with an engagement ring ( maybe either in his coat pocket or in his desk drawer or something ) and they pretend to act surprised when diluc actually proposes a little while later?thank u !!

pairings: diluc x gn!reader

warnings: fluff!

Moving in with Diluc was both a blessing and a curse.

You didn’t have to pay rent, you suddenly had maids and servants caring for your every need and you got to wake up everyday listening to Diluc’s sleepy breathing and studying the curves of his lips.

But it soon proved to be much different than the honeymoon stage.

If you placed something down, even for a moment, Adeline assumed it was trash and cleaned it up immediately. There were spiders everywhere and no one seemed to understand your distaste for them. And, Archons, your boyfriend was clingy.

When you told Diluc your qualms, he tried to be positive. “It’s just how they are,” He said, “And I’ll try to seperate myself from you.”

To come to a compromise with you, Diluc took more hours at the tavern and even sent his staff home for the entire week. It was nice for a few days, having the house to yourself, but soon proved to be even more of a hassle. Since The Winery was so old, dust collected like pollen on a flower in every corner of the house. You never thought you would take up cleaning but for this week, you did.

When you opened the storage closet with the cleaning supplies, you coughed as dust flew out in a puff. How could so much debris gather if these supplies were used almost daily? You cursed the old house and rummaged through the closet .

You pulled out the dustpan and broom, the mop bucket and some cloths, and even a small black box that was buried in the back of the closet.

Throwing the cleaning supplies aside, you stared at the box. It felt like velvet and was about the size of your palm and you weren’t an idiot - you knew what the box was without even opening it.

You held the box in your hand for a while and stared at it. The box, if possible, stared right back at you. You even clasped and unclasped it in your hand just to make sure it was real. Yeah, it was real.

But then your mind started to wander. What if it was empty and it truly is just a storage box? After all, it was in the store closet. Or maybe it’s a gift for someone, not you, and Diluc put it in this closet because he needed a safe place for it?

Hesitantly, you opened the box.

It was definitely for you.

Inside the box laid a solid gold band nestled in silk padding. It caught the sunlight through the window and gleamed, almost sparkling. Your mouth gaped at the ring, body absolutely frozen at your discovery.

When you heard the front door open, you knew you needed to shut the box and throw it back inside the depths of the storage closet but, for some reason, you couldn’t move. You felt paralyzed, even more so when you heard heavy footsteps heading towards you.

Your chest was rising and falling heavily. You need to move. You need to get rid of the evidence before Diluc sees.

“Why are you on the...floor…”

Diluc stopped behind you. His gaze was solid on the box in your hand and he inhaled sharply when he saw that it was open.

You finally managed to slam the ring box closed but instead of putting it down, you gripped it in your hand. You quickly stood up from the floor and hid the box behind your back as if Diluc hadn’t seen it yet. “I was planning to clean,” You mumbled.

Diluc didn’t have the right words, “I see.”

You stared at one another. Neither of you knew what to say, too in shock to form coherent thoughts. Suddenly, Diluc sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I had an entire night planned for this.”

“What?”

His eyes averted your own, “I was going to take you on a date to Starsnatch Cliff and we were going to star gaze.” Finally, he looked up at you, “We’ve been together for over a year and I’ve never seen you even pick up a broom.”

You stepped forward and with your free hand, rested it on the side of Diluc’s face. “I’m sorry for ruining your surprise.” You leaned forward to softly kiss him. You wished there was a way to take away his dejected expression. “I don’t need all that, truly. Anything would have been a dream come true.”

Diluc took the box from you and fingered the velvet covering. “If you say so,” He says quietly before opening the case slowly and turning it to face you. “I’m sorry this isn’t traditional, but, will you marry me?”

#diluc x reader #diluc x gn!reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin diluc #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc

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1kook · 3 years

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skirt chasers — drabble iv

THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf

NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3

He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…”

Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane.

Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot.

He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form.

It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds.

They were his favorite.

Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this.

God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month.

But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity.

As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings.

He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream.

But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him.

Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping.

He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since!

Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn’t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind.

So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck.

Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!

It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching.

Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go.

He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen.

But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins.

He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?”

“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world.

You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.”

He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.”

You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here.

“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action.

“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes.

“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high.

You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time.

Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down.

You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.”

Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now.

He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”

You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly.

A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist.

“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy.

Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can.

And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck.

“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer.

“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question.

You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.

“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.”

You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides.

A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.

He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry.

“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes.

As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be.

Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest.

He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly.

Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?”

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign.

He strikes while the iron is still hot.

It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion.

Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort.

“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months.

However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it.

Kinda.

Probably.

Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over.

He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“

“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing.

“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”

“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders.

If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off.

And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face.

The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing.

Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting.

(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.)

One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you.

He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone.

Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more.

You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs.

Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it.

And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him.

It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top.

Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror.

He’s never seen you like this before.

Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life.

He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips.

And then something unforgivable happens.

Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information.

Your hand.

The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness.

Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face.

He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant.

Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.”

It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.”

You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him.

“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.

A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him.

Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip.

You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now.

The sympathy doesn’t last long.

Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams.

Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand.

But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this.

“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches.

There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are.

Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out.

“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him.

You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead.

It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.”

He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands.

“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!)

Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”

Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead.

“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises.

It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock.

Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon.

He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time.

When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.”

A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago.

His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap.

There was never a choice.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#jjk smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts jungkook #mine #skirtfic

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

This Side of Normal Chapter Three

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is tired. She’s tired of emotional terrorists and liars and classes with a teacher who cares more about keeping the peace than teaching. She’s also just plain tired. Taking a long swig of coffee, Marinette jumps slightly as someone flounces down next to her. Wearily glancing over, she frowns at the look on her best friend’s face. Her mind runs a million miles a minute as she searches for the reason for the look on his face. The conversation on the roof with Jason flashes in her mind and she frowns, realizing why he looks so sad.

“Adrien-” She starts, but he shakes his head.

“I know, Mari. I know he’s our best suspect but...it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He says, slouching so that he can lay his head on her shoulder. Marinette sighs in response

“You’re gonna get in trouble sitting back here, kitty.” She mumbles, trying not to laugh at the absolutely adorable pout on his face that forms once she’s done talking.

“It’s worth it. I hate sitting by Lila.” He grumbles, the sad look on his face breaking Marinette’s heart.

“I-Well, maybe Mme. Bustier won’t notice.” She offers with a small smile. The smile falls almost immediately as a loud gasp rings throughout the room.

“Mme. Bustier, isn’t Adrien’s seat in the front row? Has the seating chart changed again?” Lila asks, her voice wobbly with tears. “Do I- do I have to sit by myself?” She adds. Marinette groans and drops her head onto the desk.

“Adrien? Why don’t you come back to your seat. We’re going to start class soon.” Mme. Bustier calls out.

“Sorry, guess I spoke too soon.” Marinette mumbles from her spot against the table. Adrien groans, but drags his bag down to the front row, furrowing his eyebrows as Lila immediately attaches herself to his arm. Marinette rolls her eyes, trying her hardest to pay attention to the lecture when all she wants to do is sleep. Between Ladybug duties, commissions, and homework, Marinette was lucky to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night. Add in the fact that once she could go to sleep her brain wouldn’t shut off, and Marinette was ready to petition her parents for an IV drip for her coffee. Having been completely zoned out for the entire class, Marinette jumps when the telltale sound of an akuma alarm suddenly blares throughout the room. Pulling out her phone, Marinette curses under her breath. Another element based akuma. Quickly grabbing her bag, Marinette follows the rest of the class towards the akuma shelter, silently slipping away and into the bathroom. She wastes no time in transforming, instead swinging herself out the window and to the fight.

----

Glancing down at his computer, Jason frowns. Gabriel Agreste has a kid. A kid Damian’s age, who lives in Paris. If Gabriel Agreste really was Hawkmoth, he was doing it knowing that his kid could get caught in the crossfire. Damn shitty parents. Letting out a shaky breath, Jason tries to think about things that calm him. Breathe. Can’t get pissed off here. Can’t make it harder on those kids than it already is. Deciding enough is enough when it comes to research (especially since he didn’t give Replacement specifics, just told him to look into anything sketchy with Agreste), Jason walks over and glances out the hotel window. A sudden alarm blaring through the hotel makes him sigh in frustration. It was the same alarm from last time, when he watched Paris flood and hundreds of bodies float in the streets. Climbing out onto the fire escape, Jason hurries up to the roof, scanning the horizon in hopes of seeing the akuma.

“Shit.” He says, eyes widening at the sight of flames twenty feet high. Regretting letting Bruce convince him to leave the helmet in Gotham, Jason has no choice but to watch the akuma fight from afar. Even if the two heroes hadn’t recognized him, Jason was in Paris on “official” W.E. business. Being recognized as Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son while fighting a supervillain? Probably not the best idea. He’d do more damage than help, and at least by staying away from the fight, he could help the kids later. And maybe track down the son of a bitch who decided focusing the majority of his attacks on a school was a good idea.

----

Jason grit his teeth as the lights flashed and ladybugs flew around, fixing up the city. This battle took almost three hours, and the smell of burning flesh was lingering, despite all of the corpses being reanimated. Huffing, Jason climbs back off the roof, only thinking one thing. There was no way in hell he was leaving Paris until Hawkmoth was out of commission.

----

Landing softly on the rooftop, Marinette glances over at the strange man. Jason. The man who, for some reason, was willing to train them late at night on top of a roof, just so they could fight out of the suits. Not that he understood everything that the suits could do, but that was for the best. Even though his intentions seemed genuine, Marinette had learned not to trust easily anymore. Ever since Lila came, Marinette was wearier, and more likely to ask questions before accepting someone.

“Here’s your mask, if you wanna go ahead and change and start doing some basic stretches.” Jason instructs, getting right down to business as he passes the black domino mask to her. Marinette nods and flits behind the chimney.

“Spots off.” She says quietly, grinning at Tikki.

“Is this really a good idea?” Tikki asks, her face scrunched up with worry. Marinette sighs at her friend.

“He’s gonna help us find Hawkmoth. And he has a point. What happens if I can’t transform but someone still needs my help? I don’t want to be helpless, Tikki.” Marinette says.

“Just be careful, you don’t have the suit to stop you from being too injured.” Tikki warns before flying to the top of the chimney. Marinette hesitates a second before sliding the domino mask on, blinking to get used to the eye cover. It was...weird, having a mask on that wasn’t magic. With the mask that came with her suit, Marinette couldn’t feel it. It was just there, part of her. The domino mask, though, was solid. She could feel it resting on her face. Taking a breath to steady herself, Marinette walked out from behind the chimney.

“Chat Noir’s changing over there.” Jason says when he notices her, nodding towards an air duct on the opposite side of the roof.

“Thank you, for offering to help us.” Marinette says, Jason nods, a tense smile on his face.

“No problem.” He says.

“Did you happen to look into Gabriel Agreste today?” She asks.

“Yeah, what kind of asshole decides to be an emotional terrorist in a city where his kid lives?” Jason asks, a dark look crossing his face. Marinette flinches, looking at Jason nervously. If he had the means to train them, she really didn’t want to deal with him as an akuma.

“Gabriel Agreste, apparently.” Adrien says, finally joining the two, his arms crossed. Marinette frowns at him. It was much harder to read his face with his eyes hidden.

“So did you guys want me to look more into Agreste?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks between the two. Marinette glances at Adrien, letting out a small breath when she sees his small nod.

“Yeah. Even if it’s not Gabriel, we need to know for sure.” She says. Jason nods.

“Alright. That gives me something to do tomorrow. Now, stretch and warm up. I don’t wanna have to drag your asses off this roof ‘cause you pulled something trying to jump right into things.” Jason says, a teasing grin on his face. Marinette grins back, finally feeling lighter. Maybe training would be a good thing.

----

Training was hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was not easy. Gasping for air, Marinette dramatically collapses on the roof.

“Aw come on Pixie, you can do better than that.” Jason teases, still standing in a sparring stance.

“Jay, I swear. We’ve been training for over a week. I’m exhausted. And you’ve already kicked my ass twice. I’m giving up.” She says, throwing her arm over her face to block out the lights from the surrounding street lamps.

“Come on Bug, don’t give up!” Adrien cheers from the side, a smirk on his face. Marinette sits up and narrows her eyes at him, despite knowing the mask wouldn’t let him see her eyes. And the level of done that was visible there.

“Why don’t you try again?” She asks in a taunting tone. Adrien snorts.

“You and I both know that I can’t beat Jason.” He says, shaking his head in amusement.

“Not with that attitude. Come on kid, let’s go.” Jason says, turning to face Adrien instead of Marinette. An idea flashes into Marinette’s head and she smirks, lunging forward and yanking Jason down as his attention is completely on Adrien. Grabbing his wrists as he falls, Marinette manages to twist him around so that his face is against the rooftop and his arms are bent behind him.

“Okay, okay, I tap out.” Jason chuckles, accepting Marinette’s hand when she jumps up and reaches out to help him up.

“I won.” She says with a wide grin.

“You totally cheated.” Jason replies with a snort.

“Nah, Kitty and I just worked together to outsmart you.” Mari says.

“Don’t drag me into this, I had no idea what was happening ‘til Jay was on the ground.” Adrien says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Traitor.” Marinette huffs, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“Hey, you guys are gonna have to go home soon.” Jason says, glancing down at his watch. Marinette frowns.

“What about the Plan?” She asks. “I thought we were gonna work on that tonight so that we have an actual plan to stop Hawkmoth instead of just letting him run around and terrorize people nonstop.”

“Pixie, it’s late. I promise we’ll start with planning tomorrow. But you guys need to go get some sleep. Chat told me you’re already living off of coffee alone. That’s not healthy.” Jason says. Marinette rolls her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Coffee is my life fuel and I will not apologize.” She says, making both Chat and Jason groan.

“You’re worse than my brother.” Jason says and Mari grins.

“I’m sure we’d get along swimmingly.” She says, and Chat shakes his head.

“Nope. I draw the line at your coffee addicted butt meeting another coffee addict. I’m not about to watch that train wreck.” He says, grabbing Mari’s hand and tugging her behind the chimney so they can transform. Saying their phrases quickly, the two dart back over to Jason.

“Same time?” Marinette asks with a bright smile. Jason nods. Marinette waves, running over to the edge of the building and swinging away, waving at Adrien as he vaults towards his house. As she lands on her balcony, Marinette can't help the wide smile that stretches across her face. Maybe they could finally end this.

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #fanfic #ao3fic #maribat fic #platonic jasonette #platonic maribat adrienette #This Side of Normal

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 14

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 5,000ish

Summary: Just another day at the medical center, right? (Based off Grey’s Anatomy)

Heading back into the hospital, you went straight for Natasha’s room. The other interns were already in there, surrounding her bed.

“Hey,” you smiled, walking over to her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she responded. “I’m okay.”

You grabbed her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. She needed to know that you were there for her, but you weren’t going to push her into talking about something she wasn’t ready to talk about.

~~~

You slammed down a shot, needing to feel the alcohol rush down your throat.

“How was Nat when you left, Scott?” Val asked, bringing more drinks over.

“She said she was okay, again,” he responded with a slight shrug.

“Nobody goes what she went through and is totally over it by now.”

“Natasha can.”

“She’s fine,” you added, taking another shot.

“Too fine,” Val said. “She’s cold.”

“No, she’s hardcore,” Clint said. “She’s got ice in her veins. She does what she has to do to get through it.”

“She lost a baby. She lost a fallopian tube and she’s acting like she doesn’t even care. She’s acting like she has no emotions or warmth, like she’s missing a soul.”

“She’s gonna make a great surgeon.”

“Clint!”

“It’s true. You show no weakness, you make it to the top.”

“Some people just keep their feelings to themselves,” you commented.

Your eyes were on the door, where Steve had just walked in. If he noticed you, he didn’t make it noticeable. You watched as he walked over to the bar and sat beside Gamora. Steve ordered a drink from Happy before talking to Gamora. Too bad you were too far away to hear them.

“Y/N kissed me,” Steve told Gamora. “Peggy kissed me… My wife and my girlfriend kissed me on the same day.”

“Happy, do I look friend to you?” Gamora asked.

“Oh, you’re a tiny little kitten of joy and love,” Happy responded, only for Gamora to make a face. “What? He saved my life.”

“His first mistake.” She took a sip of her drink. “Captain McDreamy, go sit by someone who cares.”

“Oh gee,” Steve mocks hurt, but doesn’t make a move to go. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Peggy will leave. Y/N and I will start over. Everything’s gonna be fine. Right?”

“You are so damn stupid.”

~~~

“With Natasha out, I need everyone focused today,” Gamora told her group of interns as you all headed off to rounds. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be be one of those days and since we’re short an intern, you do not want to get on my bad side.”

“When are we not on her bad side?” You whispered to Clint.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied with a scoff. “Scott and I are her favorites.”

The group walked into their first patients room. The woman was sitting on the bed, enthralling a group of hospital workers with a tell.

“So we're in the middle of the Belizean jungle and this jaguarondi jumps out and bites one of the guides,” the woman says. “They all look at me. They're yelling, "You're a doctor, help him!" This is one time a PhD does no good.” The people laugh.

“Sorry,” Gamora interrupted, “did I miss the memo about social hour?” Everyone quickly began leaving besides your group.

“Tales of missionary life,” the woman explained.

“You’re a missionary?” Val asked.

“No, my parents. We traveled a lot. Well, they still do.”

“Lang, tell me about our patient,” Gamora ordered.

“Okay, um, this is Dr. Banner’s patient, Talya,” Scott explained. “She, uh, presents with multiple syncopal episodes and ventricular arrhythmias.”

“So you’ve been passing out?” Gamora asked.

“Yeah,” Talya confirmed, “and having palpitations.”

“Talya has past medical history of rheumatic heart disease with mitral valve stenosis,” Scott added.

“They had to ship me from Zambia to the States for 3 months of treatment when I was 8,” Tayla said. “Rheumatic fever almost killed me.”

“Someone please tell me what the primary causes of ventricular arrhythmias are,” Gamora said.

Before anyone in the room could responded, Natasha appeared in the doorway. She leaned up against it in her hospital gown with her IV stand.

“Valvular disease, mitral valve prolapse, stimulants, drugs, and metabolic abnormalities,” Natasha answered.

“Out!” Gamora ordered.

“I’m fine.”

“Out! And you better be in your bed by the time we round on you!”

“And when will that be?”

“In 15 seconds. 14. 13. 13. 11.”

Natasha turned around to head to her room, revealing her underwear through her nightgown. The group of interned laughed.

“Nice panties, Romanoff!” Peter laughed.

Natasha flips him the bird as she keeps waking. “In your dreams, Quill.”

They followed Natasha into the room, where she huffed as she got back into bed.

“L/N,” Gamora called.

“Right,” you responded. “Natasha Romanoff. Post-op day 3 from a unilateral salpingectomy.”

“And ready to get back to work,” Natasha said. “I'm taking solids and my pain is controlled with oral meds. I'm ready.”

“Well, it says here on your chart on you had a fever?”

“Y/N,” Nat growled.

“Natasha, did you have a fever?” Gamora questioned.

“Temp spiked to 101 last night. Big deal.”

“She worked 2 shifts last month with a 102 degree flu,” Clint added.

“Yes! Exactly, Clint. Thank you.”

“And we appreciate your dedication but you're staying in bed until it normalizes,” Gamora said. “You need to relax, shut up, and get better. You're a patient this week so you can be a doctor next week. Understand?”

“I understand,” Natasha grumbled.

~~~

Rounds had finished as you were heading to your assignment when you ran into Steve near the elevators.

“Skipping rounds?” He wondered.

“No,” you replied. “They just finished.” You kept walking, when Steve took your arm to stop you.

“Y/N…”

“You’ve got a wife.”

“Yes.”

“You’re life is complicated.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t need more complicated. I have that all on my own.”

“Yes.”

“Stop saying yes.”

Steve smiled. “I’m trying not to make any sudden movements.”

“You think this is funny?”

“Peggy’s leaving. She doesn’t have any more patients. There’s no reason for her to be here.”

“No reason? Really?”

“No really whatsoever.”

Steve stepped closer, bringing his hand up to brush your cheek. You stood there, trying to not let it get to your head or, well, anywhere else. Suddenly, Peggy appeared.

“Well now, isn’t this cozy?” She said. “Can I join in or are you not into threesomes?”

“I have to go,” you said, rushing away. You didn’t go too far, interested to watch everything unfold.

“Y/N…” Steve called with a sign. He turned to Peggy. “You really are Satan. You realize that right? If Satan were to take physical form, he'd be you. Everywhere, all the time.”

“I am so not Satan,” Peggy responded.

“How come you haven't got on your broomstick and gone back to where you belong?”

“Stop being petty.”

“Stop being an adulterous bitch.”

“You know, you are going forgive me eventually, right? I mean you can't just ... I mean there was a time when you thought of me as your best friend.”

“There was a time where I thought you were the love of my life. Things change.”

Peggy sighed and pulled some papers out of her bag, handing them to Steve. Steve quickly flipped through them.

“Divorce papers,” he said.

“Your lawyer said they're ok. I haven't signed them yet. The ball's in your court. If you sign, I'll sign. I'll sign and be on the first plane out of here.”

“I'll sign them immediately. I want you out of here as soon as possible.”

“Steve, have you ever thought that, even if I am Satan and an adulterous bitch, that I still might be the love of your life?”

Not answering, Steve walks away, completely not noticing you listening in from behind a pillar.

“What are we looking at?” Tony asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“Ah!” You exclaimed, jumping slightly. “Don’t do that!” You playfully hit him. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I just saw you over here and I was interested in seeing what you were observing.”

“I think… I think Peggy just handed Steve divorce papers.”

“Really? That actually surprises me. I thought she would put in a little more of a fight.”

“Yeah…”

“I guess that’s good news for you, right?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I want him to choose me because of me, not because of a divorce.”

“In my ever humble opinion, I think it will always be you. Trust me. That man is whipped.”

~~~

Natasha snuck out of her room and stole her chart. She sat in her bed as she made changes to it. Walking by, Banner looked in and noticed that no one else was in there. He quickly took the chart of Nat.

“Hey! That’s my chart,” Natasha complained.

“You're the patient. Not the doctor. Act like one,” Bruce reprimands as he studies her chart. “It's been tough finding you alone.”

“Yeah? Well…”

“How are you doing?”

“Well, you have my chart, you tell me.”

He sighed. “Natasha, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Perfectly okay.”

“I had a right to know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Natasha—“

“Look. Now you know. It’s over. There’ soothing for you to deal with. So I don’t know what else there really is left to say.”

“Plenty. For starters you could've come to me—“

“And what? We could have raised it together? Or you could have held my hand when I got the abortion? I did not need any of that. I’m an intern.”

“Nat—“

“Can you just go? I need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

~~~

Gamora called you to help her with a patient. You two walked into the patient room together, revealing a younger man on the bed.

“I thought I told you I never want to see you again,” Gamora said to the patient.

“That's only cause you're too lazy to learn anything more,” the man responded.

“Dr. Y/N L/N, this is Nick Tate. He thinks he knows so much cause he was one of my first patient's as an intern.”

“I knew as much as she did. She was clueless about how to treat cystic fibrosis. A simple cholecystectomy turned into a month-long stay.”

“Better not be alleging malpractice. Guy raises about a 100 grand a year for cystic fibrosis, running triathlons. Thinks he's a big shot.”

“Wait, you run triathlons?” You questioned, confused how it could as a patient with cystic fibrosis.

“Yeah, why not?” He responded.

“It’s a pain for one,” Gamora replied, flipping through the chart. “Says here you're finally admitting to feeling a little unwell?”

“A little.”

“How little? Truth.”

“Oh, enough to keep me awake at night. Had some seizures. Um, too weak to work out.”

“Anyone been through here with your CT results?”

“No. It's probably just my pancreatitis kicking up again.”

“All right then. We'll be back. With your results and a plan.” Gamora walked to the door, with you following. She glanced back at Nick. “Huh, where do your parents think you are this time?”

He smiled. “Hmm, San Diego.”

Gamora shakes her head as you follow her the rest of the way out of the room.

“What about his parents?” You asked. “Shouldn’t he, or we, tell them?”

“No, he doesn't like to bother them until he's well or about to get discharged. He understands his reality. He just chooses to ignore it. Denial works for him, L/N.”

~~~

After Bruce had left, it only took Natasha two minutes to have found blue scrubs and change into them. She took out her IV and snuck out to the nurses station. She began looking through patient charts. The head nurse, Phil Coulson, found her like that.

“Where’s your IV?” He asked, looking at her with a disappointed father face.

“I've taken solids. I HEP-locked it,” Natasha replied.

“On whose orders?”

“Mine.”

“Okay.” Phil quickly found her chart and began reading it. “Romanoff. How about this order: best rest, out of bed to chair, bathroom privileges. Nothing about stealing charts at the nurses station.”

“Okay, you know what….” She quickly looked around to find a nearby empty wheelchair. She brought it over and sat down in it. “There, satisfied? I’m out of bed to chair.”

“I’m telling your intent on you.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.”

She wheeled off with a patient chart, heading to Tayla’s room. When she arrived, she witnessed Tayla, by herself, taking a pill.

“I saw that!” Natasha exclaimed from her wheelchair in the doorway. “I saw you take that pill.”

“Oh it's, it's my pill,” Tayla excused. “You know... the pill.”

Natasha quickly looked over the chart. “It’s not at all in your chart and you are supposed to tell us the meds you are on.”

“You’re not my doctor. You shouldn't even be here.”

“She’s right,” Val said, appearing from behind. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I saw her take unauthorized medication!” Natasha continued.

“Well, you’re unauthorized to be here.”

“I’m on the pill and I had grapefruit juice this morning,” Tayla explained. “Since the juice inhibits enzymes involved in the metabolism of OCPs, I thought I'd avoid the interaction by taking it two hours after my meal.”

“She's has a doctorate in neuropharmacology, Natasha.”

Natasha huffed, “Well, Val, I don’t see any place where oral contra—“

“Okay so now you will. Will you just go back to bed and stop bothering the other patients?”

Tayla’s heart monitor suddenly started racing, bringing the other women attentions to her. She fell to the floor, unconscious, and Val rushed to her.

“She’s in V-FIB!” Natasha said.

“Call the code,” Val ordered as she began compressions.

Natasha practically jumped out of her chair to call a code, which didn’t feel good. Val got Tayla back as the code team arrived.

“No code?” The nurse questioned.

“Not anymore,” Val answered. “Can you help get her back into bed.

“I’ll—I’ll help,” Natasha breathed got, struggling to get back to her wheelchair. “Just give me a minute.”

“Would you just go back to bed? Seriously, please just go.”

Natasha nodded as she finally made it to the wheelchair. “Just… if she’s on OCP’s, mark it down. Okay, Val?”

“Yeah.”

~~~

You had gotten Nick’s x-ray’s back and were currently putting them up to view them with Gamora by your side.

“Nick’s got a mass in his midepigastrium,” you explained. “Diffused enlargement of the pancreas. That, with his hypoglycemic seizures—“

“He's going to need an exploratory laparotomy. But, despite his triathlons, his lungs still make me hesitant to cut,” Gamora added.

“What are we going to do?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Doctors,” Peggy greeted.

“Dr. Carter-Rogers.”

“How old is he?” Peggy asked, studying the x-rays.

“26.”

“Survivor, huh?”

“And them some. My patient for at least 5 years. I'm not gonna lose him now.”

“You planning a laparotomy?”

“Hmm. You know, I think I could help you with this. I've seen one case like this before in a 9 year old. We ended up having to do a total pancreotectomy.”

“I'd be honored to take any help you can give me.”

“You’re a neonatal specialist,” you said. “What, uh… this isn’t your area.” Gamora looked at you, annoyed, as she shock her head. “I’m just saying that—“

“I did 2 years genetic research in cystic fibrosis,” Peggy told you. “I've pretty much seen it all, Dr. L/N.”

“Oh.”

~~~

Walking down the hall, Steve found you. Always trying his best to make a conversation with you. This time it was easy.

“Are you sure your wife is leaving?” You questioned. “She offered to help on the case Gamora has me working on.”

“Just because she offered her services doesn't mean she intends to stay,” Steve responded.

“Well, what does it mean? Because it seems to me—“

“It means that she's a good doctor.”

“Huh… why are you suddenly defending her?”

“I’m not. Y/N, she gave me divorce papers. She filed.”

“Good for you.”

“All I have to do is sign, and I’m free… We’re free.”

“Is there anything to think about?”

“No,” he shook his head, “of course not. I have to read through them, sign, then Peggy’s on the next plane out of here.” He grabbed your hands. “This is going to work.”

~~~

After the conversation he had with you, Steve immediately went searching for Gamora.

“Of all the fine doctors in the city, you accept a consult from Peggy Carter,” Steve said, angrily.

“Carter-Rogers, isn’t it?” Gamora retorted.

“The point is she should be on her way home. Are you purposefully trying to drive me crazy?”

“You think this has something to do with you?” Gamora’s voice was loud and upset. “You think I’m even thinking about you and your romantic problems? I’m trying to help a patient very near and dear to my heart. And if consulting with your wife—your ex—your mistress, what ever it is that she becomes! If that’s the thing I have to do to save my patient, them I’m damn well gonna do it.”

“I understand… and I totally deserve the yelling. It’s just that—“

“Just, you look! You have put yourself between two very fine women and you looking for an easy way out and you wanna use me, and the hospital and... somebody to make the decision for you, and it's not gonna happen!”

“Could I just… could I just say a couple of things?”

“No.” Gamora stormed off.

~~~

You found Natasha sitting in her bed, in her room. Thankfully. Though she was looking through another patient’s chart. You pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat down in it with a sigh.

“What’s your problem?” Natasha asked.

“Peggy gave Steve divorce papers, which is good. I mean she’s still here, being Peggy, but it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

“That’s odd.”

“It’s odd I’m not jealous?”

“No, you have every right to be jealous. It's your territory and she's peeing all over it.” Natasha went back to focusing on the chart in her hands. “What’s odd is Banner’s patient.”

“Tayla?”

“Yeah. She’s been in 4 other hospitals this year. You know something’s not right.”

“You seem awfully interested in Banner’s patient.”

“This has nothing to do with Bruce.”

“Natasha, you lost a fallopian tube, a baby and a boyfriend all in one day. You have the right to be upset.”

“And you’re losing Captain McDreamy to his perfect wife. You have the right to be jealous.”

“I did not lose Captain McDreamy. Divorce papers, remember? And I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not upset. I really need to get out of here.”

“You’re on bedrest, remember?”

“Okay, if the situation was reversed, would you wanna spend time with your mother in a confined room with one window?”

“No. I guess not. But still. You need to stay put.”

Before Natasha could respond, your pager beeped. You looked down at it and groaned.

“I got to go,” you muttered, leaving.

“Good luck!”

~~~

Peggy and Gamora met you in Nick’s room. There you began explaining the surgery to him.

“We won't know for sure until we go in there, but it looks like that I'm going to have to take out your pancreas and re-route your intestines,” Peggy said.

Nick looked at Gamora. “Did you tell her that my lungs don't do well with anesthesia?”

“Don’t I always have your back?” Gamora retorted.

“Your kidney function is decreasing rapidly and I'm afraid you're gonna go into multi-system organ failure if we don't operate,” Peggy continued.

“If I say no?” Nick wondered.

“There’s no guarantees, Nick. You know that,” Gamora answered. “It's gonna be a long, hard surgery and put a lot of stress on your body.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “but I’m me.”

She smiled back. “But you’re you.”

“So if we don’t operate, I die. And if… we do operate, I may die.”

“Basically, yes,” Peggy responded.

“Well, I like those odds. And 26 years with this disease is awesome. And that's the reality. So if I get lucky ... great. And if I don’t…” Nick grabbed Gamora’s hand, “it’s been sweet.”

“It’s gonna stay sweet,” she replied.

~~~

Natasha was laying on her bed with her harm over her eyes when Clint walked into the room. Tayla’s chart was laid out on top of her.

“Why do you have that?” He asked.

“I’m working,” Nat answered. “Trying to figure out what’s going on with the crazy woman on four.”

“You are the crazy woman on four. Though, I have to say, you have a better patina than me and you don’t even really have a patient.” Clint plopped down in the chair next to her bed. “Y/N’s got a CF case. Peter has a gunshot wound. Val’s got the mystery arrhythmias. I have babysitting a crazy old lady! I’d rather do scut with Scott than this! I’m a surgeon. A cutter. I don’t want to be a fake surgeon! I want to be a real one!”

“She’s faking it,” Nat repeated to herself. She quickly got off the bed. “The missionary. Talya… Thank you!”

She patted Clint’s head as she walked by. Natasha headed straight for the nurses station, where she saw Val looking around for something.

“Val!” Natasha called. “How how Talya’s studies been?”

“Hey!” Val responded, not pleasantly as she took the chart from Nat. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that!”

“Negative, right?”

“Oh! The echo tests showed mild mitral stenosis, the tilt test was negative. We're doing EP studies.”

“I can tell you what's wrong with her without sticking electrodes in her heart.”

“Really. Just by the chart?”

“No, from the pill she took.”

“They were contraceptives, Natasha! Why are you so obsessed with this? Just go back to bed!”

“I think she’s doing this to herself.”

“You think she's inducing ventricular arrhythmias? She'd have to be crazy to do—“

“No, no, no. She'd have to have Munchausen’s.”

“Okay wait. You think she's secretly ingesting something to produce real symptoms? Seriously?”

“Yes. Run it by Banner and tell me what he thinks.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself. He is standing right behind you.” Val made eye contact with the man. “Dr. Banner.”

Then Val left. Leaving Natasha will Bruce. She sighed as Bruce guided her into the small office nearby before listening to her.

“I mean, she obviously loves the patient role. She practically lives in hospitals. And... and, and we're like an imaginary family to her because her really family blows her off to go take care of other people.... And, and I saw her take something.”

“It's not enough,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “We have to rule out everything else. Everything physical.”

“She even lied about her job. She's a pharmacy tech, not a PhD.”

“So she's a liar. I've been lied to before.”

“Hey, we're not talking about us here.”

“Maybe we should be.”

“I didn’t lie!”

“You withheld the truth from me. How was00”

“Okay, you know what? I distinctly remember you breaking things off with me. And you didn't seem so upset about it. And this?” She motioned between herself and Bruce. “This is, this is not a relationship. This is not real.”

“Natasha…”

“Okay, and, and so what's with the big display of fake hurt and drama?” She began walking out of the room.

“Natasha!”

“I’m supposed to be in bed.”

~~~

You absolutely did not want to be in surgery with Peggy. Yet there you were.

“I need more traction,” Peggy stated. “Dr. Y/N?” You quickly did as you were told.

“Here,” Gamora called, “give me some suction there.” So you did. “Now L/N, retract the duodenum. Good. How’s he doing Vis?”

Vis was keeping watch over Nick’s vitals and such. “Harder to ventilate and no urine output since we started,” Vis informed.

Peggy shook her head, “he’s shutting down.”

“Did you increase his peak pressures?” Gamora asked.

“Any higher, I blow his lungs,” Vis responded before the monitor beeped. “Bradycardia. Pushing 1 of atropine.”

“Try ventilating him manually,” Peggy ordered, “see if he starts coming back up.” Vis began pushing on a bag.

“Did we miss any bleeders?” Gamora wondered.

“The surgical field is clear.”

The monitor began beeping faster. “Agonal rhythm,” you said.

“Any pulse with that?” Gamora asked.

“No carotid,” Vis answered.

“Okay, starting CPR.” Gamora handed over her tools and begun CPR. “Push one of EPI.”

“No extraordinary measures, Gamora,” Peggy warned. “He’s DNR.”

“No this is just good medicine.” Sh continued CPR, almost frantically. “Come on! Come on! Don’t give up. Come on.”

“You’re getting tired,” you noted. “Let me take over, Dr. Gamora.” She nodded, letting you quickly switch her places.

“Gamora, his intestines are cyanotic,” Peggy stated. “There’s no blood circulating.”

“It’s been shunted to his brain where he needs it,” Gamora responded as she studied your CPR form. “You call those compressions.” She shoved you to the side and took over CPR. You and Peggy made eye contact, worried. “Fight it. Come on.” Peggy looked around, shaking her head, and everyone stopped what they were doing. All but Gamora. “Why isn’t anyone moving? Whose recording?”

“It's been ten minutes since we've had a perfusing rhythm.” Peggy goes to stop Gamora but is shrugged off. The monitor flat lines. “It’s your call, Gamora.”

Taking a shaky inhale, Gamora stopped. She pulled off her mask as the monitor continues to flat line. “Asystole.” She looked up at the clock. “Time of death: 19:35.”

Gamora rushed out of the OR, trying not to cry. She went straight to the sinks and began cleaning her hands furiously. She paused when she noticed people covering up Nick’s body. Peggy walked in and started washing her hands as well, with you following. You both eyed Gamora a few times, worried. Soon, she left.

Peggy sighed. “It’s hard to accept the end when you’re too close.” She looked down as she slipped her wedding ring back onto her finger. She noticed you watching. “Look, I don't want someone who doesn't want me, Y/N. But if there's the slightest chance that he does, I'm not leaving New York.”

~~~

Val walked into Natasha’s room, not excited for the news she was about to tell her.

“Well?” Natasha asked.

“You were right,” Val sighed. “Talya definitely suffers from Munchausen’s.”

“See I was right…. I was right…” She closed her eyes. “I was right…” Nat began to cry. “I was right. I was… I was right. Oh… I’m—I’m—“ She let out a sob. “I’m right. I’m—I’m right.”

Val looked out of the room to see Clint walking by. “Clint! Page Y/N!”

Clint hurried in. “Why? What—what’s happening? What did you do to her?”

“She just started crying and I don’t know what to do!”

“I’ll get one of the nurses to page, Y/N.” Clint rushed out.

“Natasha,” Val tried, slowly coming closer. “Natasha, calm down.”

“The nurses paged her!” Clint came rushing back in.

“It’s okay, Nat.” Val went in for a hug, only for Nat to shrink away and cry harder. “Okay, okay. I won’t hug you.”

“What’s going on?” You came running in, panicked.

“I can’t stop!” Nat cried. “I can’t—-I can’t stop…”

“Crying,” Val finished for her. “She can’t stop crying.”

“I can’t see that!” You replied. “What did you guys do to her?”

“Nothing!”

“She’s going to dehydrate,” Clint said. “Nat, do you want some water?”

Nat shook her head, “no, no…” You tried to go in for a hug, only to be pulled away.

“NO!” Clint and Val exclaimed.

“I already tried that,” Val said. “It just made it worse.” Clint tentatively handed Nat a tissue.

“Natasha,” you tried again.

“Make—make it stop,” Natasha sobbed. “Make it stop… Somebody sedate me!”

“What’s going on in here?” Bruce asked, walking in. He was dressed like he was about to leave. There was clear concern etched on his face.

“We can’t get her to stop crying,” you replied.

“Y/N, get everyone else out of here.” Bruce was taking off his jacket. “Watch the door.”

You nodded, quickly ushering Clint and Val out. They voiced protests, but willing left. You shut the door behind you and watched. Peeking through the window, you watched as Bruce got in the bed beside Nat. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Natasha willingly curled into him, welcoming his comfort. You sighed and turned away, leaning against the door to keep watch. Steve noticed you and came up.

“Hey,” he smiled.”

“Hey.”

“When are you off?”

“Uh,” you glanced at your watch, “in about an hour. Why?”

“Meet me at Happy’s when you get off.” He started walking backwards, sly smirk on his lips. “Don’t be late.”

~~~

Steve and you arrived at Happy’s bar at the same time. He gave you a smile as he held the door open for you. You walked over to an empty table, Steve close behind.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” you said.

“Me too,” Steve replied. He set it briefcase on his chair. “Want a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Turning around, Steve knocked his briefcase onto the ground. A stack of papers slipped out.

“I’ve got it,” Steve quickly said, bending down.

“I’ll get it,” you said, picking up the papers.

You glance at the papers as you stand back up. There his divorce papers, that he has yet to sign.

next chapter >

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

LOVE AND MEDICINE TAG LIST

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#steve rogers x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avenger imagines #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #doctor!steve rogers x reader

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Hey!!!how are you?

Can i have some Rambo Headcanons??

Maybe the old rambo moving nextdoor to a young(24), farmer? (They/them pls), and maybe eventually him developing a crush or Wanting to protect them since they’re always so nice and caring towards him?

Thank you!!(these are for my birthday lmao, im a complete and total rambo simp. And i feel old rambo would really enjoy calming down and helping around with someone who loves him)

You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to write these as soon as I read the request! It's so wholesome, so I hope I've done it justice! And happy birthday! I hope you like these 😊(also I'm good, thanks for asking!)

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x younger!reader headcannons.

Warnings: mention of PTSD, vague injury detail.

A/n: I'm sorry if this is not as expected, I'm still getting to grips with writing headcannons 😅

Masterlist

The ranch had been in a state of disrepair when John first got there, walls thinning, paint peeling, buildings empty and soulless. He hadn't expected things to be as they were when he left, all those years ago, but the evident lack of care surprised him.

The house had been empty, which he eventually figured out was die to the fact his father had passed a good few years prior, and hadn't left anyone in charge of the ranch.

This meant that everything was as it was when he left, photographs hanging awkwardly on the walls, dusty furniture shoved out of the way.

Naturally, the rest of the ranch was also in pretty poor condition: the stables were practically overrun with weeds and foul smelling hay, one lone horse still nosing weakly at the empty water bucket on the floor. Taking pity on the animal, and feeling a need to help it, John took it out onto the field, which is where he first saw them.

Across from his father's ranch was another, smaller one, where horses and cattle grazed in the fields, a single car parked up beside the main house, which was in a much better condition than his own newfound home. In one of the fields, running around with a young foal, was who he assumed to be a ranchhand.

For a moment or so, he had stood and watched as the figure ran in circles with the youthful horse in tow, admiring their seemingly high spirits - he hadn't felt high-spirited in years.

After he'd helped the old horse from the stables out (cleaning out a stall, feeding it with feed he found in a storeroom), John had gone back to the house, almost forgetting the figure across the field, intending to head to sleep.

A couple of days passed after that, before he saw them again, though this time, they also saw him.

He'd started work on the house, having collected what he needed from a nearby town, and was sat on the roof of the main building as the sun glared down at him. Taking a brief pause from his work, he'd looked up and seen them in the field again, this time astride a larger horse.

They were racing around again, until the rider noticed they were being watched, at which point they slowed to a halt and looked around, quickly spotting John on the roof. From that distance, he couldn't tell what their expression was, but they raised a hand after a moment or so, waving up at him. Hesitantly, he had waved back.

Later that day, when he'd been sat on his father's old rocking chair on the veranda, taking another break, John had noticed someone coming up the road towards him. Standing out of instinct, John soon realised it was someone astride a horse, the rider carefully trotting up the drive, their face becoming clearer the nearer they came.

Still cautious of people, John had acted somewhat guarded as the person rode up to him, a broad smile on their work-weathered youthful face. In their hand, they carried a small box, which they cradled awkwardly on their thighs.

Approaching him, they'd tipped their hat, a battered Stetson, and greeted him, introducing themself as (Y/n), the owner of the ranch next to his. They'd spoken cheerfully, as if unaffected by the hardships of life, which they may well be. That's what John thought anyway, until they openly and happily told him about the passing of their parents, four years ago. The ranch had been left to them, leaving them in charge of the business.

Their first encounter had been somewhat awkward, but it didn't seem to bother (Y/n), and they left after ten minutes or so with a genial smile at him, stating that they'd be happy to help if he ever needed it. They also left behind the box, which John soon discovered was filled to the brim with cookies, a food he hadn't eaten for decades. Trying one, he soon rediscovered a love for them he didn't remember he had.

In the following weeks, John managed to fix up the house, getting it ready to live in properly, with some very brief help from his neighbour. They'd been round earlier in one week, dropping off another box of cookies, and had offered him access to their tools, which they brought round soon after.

After this, John felt it was only right that he invited them round for drinks as thanks, something that still made him somewhat uneasy. Somehow, he did feel reassured when they happily agreed and turned up the following Sunday, the two of them sitting in comfortable quiet on the veranda, sometimes talking, other times staying silent.

This became a regular occurrence.

Every week, (Y/n) would go to John's, or vice-versa, the latter soon learning to trust them and enjoy their company, finding himself in a better mood than he had been in in a long time. Their openness to talk or listen (even if he said very little) comforted him, allowing him to forget the nightmarish things going through his head near-daily.

After three months, (Y/n) had started coming round much more often, many times just appearing in the middle of the day to help out with whatever task needed doing, unafraid of doing dirty work. They later told him it was because they enjoyed his company far too much, and often actively sought it out: they made it clear that his quiet, brooding nature was an attractive quality about him that reassured them.

It didn't take long for them to become close, the two seemingly working at a different wavelength to the rest of the world, one that only existed between their small ranches.

They helped John procure his first horses, lending him one of their own to help build up the numbers. The differences between each ranch soon became blurred, the fence running through the middle of their respective fields eventually disappearing as they merged their ranches together, continuing with business individually with the help of the other's land.

John had long since accepted, within himself, that he would not find someone to spend the rest of his life with, not after Sarah. It was a sad truth, but one he had to live with.

That all changed when he suddenly realised he had fallen for his neighbour, the one person he now trusted and cared for more than anyone in the world.

He'd realised this when their face first started appearing in his nightmares, after a close accident that nearly resulted in catastrophe. (Y/n) had fallen from the roof of the stables, thankfully landing on a stack of stray hay which softened the impact, leaving them in severe amounts of pain for two days. Their face became part of the repertoire in his head, nightmares about their death soon plaguing him even further, as he finally acknowledged the newfound love he felt for them.

Because that's what it was: love.

It couldn't be anything less, he was too damaged to have heedless fancies, and his emotions were far too strong towards them. Since he'd moved in, (Y/n) had always been there, acting as a friend he never had, steadily working their way into his life, bettering it in ways he never would've thought another person could, supporting him through the episodes of flashbacks he was now prone to having. They had showed him love and care he hadnt experienced from anyone else. He valued them highly, prioritising them over himself, and he knew he was heavily attracted to them, but he told himself "no", don't ruin the friendship.

They didn't make it easy to repress the urges. No, they only managed to win him over more and more with their caring, loving attitude, though their youth managed to awaken some form of paternal instinct John never knew he had. He felt the need to protect them at all times, and he would do his best to uphold this, but he knew his feelings were getting too strong.

Somehow, he managed to miss all the loving glances, and little tells (Y/n) inadvertently laid down before him, the rancher have g developed similar feelings for him, though they'd never admit it to John, knowing how human interaction like that could be upsetting for him.

Eventually, it had taken a beautiful evening, with the sun spilling its last bloody rays on the dry landscape as the two sipped beer from bottles on the veranda, for them to finally admit to each other how they felt.

It just happened: one minute, they were leaning in to replace their bottles on the table, the next, their lips are just touching, breaths mingling as they struggle to do rain themselves. (Y/n) had finally leaned in, pressing their lips against his, pulling back almost as quickly as they moved in, a horrified, embarrassed expression on their face.

They'd apologised instantly, terrified that they'd screwed up their relationship, rambling and cursing until John had recovered and kissed them again, cupping their face in his hand as he pulled them closer. It had been too long for him, and the touch was just incredible, goosebumps rising along his spine as he poured all of his love and care into the kiss, pressing as close as possible.

Somehow, (Y/n) had ended up in his lap, head on his chest as he cradled them, relishing in the feeling of having a solid, supple body against his own after so long, and one that means him no harm, too. They knew where they both stood, and it kickstarted a close relationship.

(Y/n) moved in with him after their second foaling season together, where he'd seen their parental instincts kick in, particularly when they'd then worked to socialise the foals by playing with them. The memory would always stick with John: something about the carefree youth in their face as they ran around with the frolicking horses reminded him of the good in his life.

Life was good, everything was going mostly well.

Naturally, there were some days when he'd relapse, having particularly bad episodes that would be harrowing on both him and (Y/n), though they were always there to help him through it. Their soft words of love and worry would easily permeate the cloud of despair, and had break down in their arms, enjoying the sensation of being held.

They often held each other. Even if it was just a quick hug, or an embrace from behind as one pressed up against the other's back, touch became a large factor in their relationship - John relished it after the more callous touch he had grown used to.

Kisses, too, became a large way of showing their affection. Little ones here and there between jobs, deep passionate kisses up against the wall of the house, or sloppy making out on the shared seat on the veranda, it all counted for their love, and they thoroughly enjoyed partaking in them.

(Y/n) was always there, even when Gabrielle and Maria joined them. They were there when Gabrielle died, and they were there to avenge her death, choosing to go out with the man they loved.

Both of them liked to cook, even if John's meals were a little...plain...so they often spent hours in the kitchen with each other, fooling around with whatever they could, John's face alight with more smiles and grins than he thinks it's ever been.

They went riding together, finding solace in each other's company on their many trails through their land, the horses often coming home tired after so long of being out.

Sometimes, John got self-conscious about his age in comparison with their's, thinking he is too old for them. Everytime this happened, (Y/n) would reassure him that they love him for who he is and doesn't care if he's not as young as he used to be, it never would matter.

Marriage was never really a thing they considered. John never had much time for the state anymore, so why get them involved in their relationship?

They considered themselves married, and wore rings to show it, but it was never a legal affair. Nevertheless, the union had always been a happy one, and John could honestly say that he had been wrong about himself: he had found love.

#rambo x reader #rambo imagine #Rambo headcannons #Rambo #john rambo x reader #John Rambo #John Rambo headcannons #Rambo last blood #Rambo 4

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strideofpride · 3 years

Text

DAIR APPRECIATION WEEK 2021 DAY ONE: Why do you love Dan and Blair?

I broke down what I love about Dan and Blair into five parts under a read more below. The tldr is: their compatibility, their parallel arcs, their slow burn, the larger message it would've given GG if they were endgame, and finally their mature, adult relationship (aka "pure and simple love").

Warning: I basically wrote a fucking essay lmao. Cited my sources and everything.

I. Compatibility

Dan and Blair have great chemistry sure, but they have something that I don't think any other pairing on the show really had: common interests. They were pseudo-intellectuals who could talk about books, literature, art, etc. with each other ("Dan and I have a real connection. We did things like visit the Dia and debate Charbol versus Rohmer..."). And I know in TV world all anyone cares about is chemistry, but in the real world the key to a long lasting relationship is common interests.

And yet they are also still an opposite attracts pairing, just in the best way, where they are opposite in personality and background, but still share lots of common interests. Blair was the rich mean girl from the Upper East Side and Dan the "poor" loser from Brooklyn, but they still can relate to one another, they can still find stuff to talk about together, they still come to enjoy each other's presence and friendship.

And back to their chemistry: it isn't steamy chemistry 100% all the time (although they can certainly go there). Their's is a sweet chemistry, a chemistry where it's clear that they respect each other, that they know each other on a deep level, that they understand each other more than anyone else. It's a chemistry that you believe could lead to a satisfying marriage one day.

And I know I've said this before, but to me Dan and Blair are just soulmates.

II. Parallel Arcs

I am such a sucker for when two characters' life journeys parallel one another and Dair had that in spades. In season 1 especially, they were both dealing with the abandonment of a parent (Dan's mom/Blair's dad), they both lost their virginities and entered into sexual relationships with much more experienced partners (Serena & Chuck), and they both had their sights set on one school (Yale & Dartmouth - although come season 2 this became Yale for Dan, giving them even more in common).

I've also already talked on here about how you can parallel all of their other romantic/sexual relationships to one another, as well as how they both were abandoned by their best friends sophomore year. And, they both have a bad habit of going back to the same person over and over again (again, Serena & Chuck).

To me, Dan and Blair are almost narrative foils. Dan's relationship with his father starts out pretty solid but deteriorates over time - Blair's relationship with her mother is the exact opposite. Dan pines, while Blair loves to live in denial. Blair sees her life as a movie, Dan sees his life as a novel.

And that makes it all the more satisfying to see them come together, to learn to appreciate their differences, to accept their similarities, to see them grow together (albeit briefly) over seasons 4 and 5.

III. Slow Burn

A lot of people on here use this word incorrectly. If the characters kiss during season 1 (unless it’s under false pretenses) it’s not a slow burn! But Dan and Blair are a true slow burn (whether or not that was intentional).

From that hallway scene in 1x04, it's clear that Dan and Blair have a deeper connection and understanding of each other than they are letting on. We get brief glimpses into that in 1x15, 2x08, 3x18, and 3x22. All of that very slow build up makes it all the more satisfying when they become friends in season 4.

I truly think the W arc is the best written arc of the entire show. You very slowly see them accept their common interests, grow to begrudgingly respect one another, even begin to accept that there might be an attraction there. It never feels rushed, when they kiss in 4x17, it's earned (I use this word a lot - buckle in).

And then, yeah, the Louis arc was fucky (I stand by that they should've kept the love triangle Dan vs. Chuck, or Dan vs. Louis, all three was too much). But Dan standing by Blair through everything she went through that season was beautiful, to see her depend on Dan in her darkest moments, to see her realize that he's the one who will always be there for her...it just really, really worked.

And so that moment when Blair finally calls him "Dan" to his face, when it becomes clear they are finally going to be together...it's one of the single most satisfying moments in the entire show. Because, again, it was earned.

IV. Larger Message

As this video essay posits, the showrunners were left with a choice after the 2008 economic recession: "Either adjust to the times or lean further into an escapist fantasy where extreme wealth is the status quo...and lean they did. For the sake of providing their audience with an escape, the dark underbelly of extreme affluence became the show's core theme. The more it began to sell cynical opulence as standard escapism, the more the writers and fans turned on the less wealthy characters."

Furthermore, by revealing Dan as Gossip Girl, "It transitions him from pretentious soft boy to borderline sociopath, actively ruining the lives of his friends, family, and crush just to get a foothold in Upper East Side society. And then the show did something it had seldom deemed to do for a less wealthy character: it rewarded him...And thus, the show presented us with the most insidious message of all: wealth, privilege, and power corrupt...and that's okay."

By having Chuck & Blair and Dan & Serena as endgame, GG became one of the most cynical shows on the planet, where (to quote Constance Grady) "all relationships are transactional".

But yet: "The sole bright spot in the midst of this cold universe in which relationships are bought and sold like real estate came in the form of Blair’s brief season four romance with Dan...it marked the last hurrah of the first version of Gossip Girl: In a world in which money is so powerful that it makes romantic relationships indistinguishable from prostitution, Dan and Blair were working to create an authentic, meaningful bond outside of the influence of wealth and privilege."

If Dan and Blair had been endgame (and Dan hadn't been GG - although we all know that one is bullshit anyway), it would've been a rebuke to that ideology, it would've shown that there is more to a good marriage than a shared tax bracket, that a genuine connection is more important than wealth and privilege. That abuse does not equal love.

But alas, that was not the story they wanted to tell I guess.

V. Mature, Adult Relationship (aka "Pure & Simple Love")

I am personally not much of a fan of grand romantic gestures. I often find them shallow, childish, and showy. To me, it is far more romantic for Dan to have secretly written a book about Blair, for Blair to submit Dan's article to Vanity Fair, for Dan to say "it wouldn't to me" when Blair asks if it would matter if she was pregnant with another man's child (especially since this moment is (take a shot here), you guessed it, earned - we know he's being honest because we already saw him do this with Milo).

Now, I am personally not as much of a fan of the Met Steps moment as everyone else (Blair's desire to be royalty is probably the thing I like least about her), but that was probably Dan's grandest romantic gesture and yet...it's still so simple. It's really just a plastic tiara and a cab ride. Which is what makes it so beautiful. Because it's not about the money or the extravagance or showing off to anyone else...it's about Dan showing Blair he truly knows her. And to me, that's the healthiest way to do a romantic gesture.

I also love their bad sex arc in 5x18 because a) it's real - most real world couples don't have earth shattering sex the first time together, it takes time to learn what your partner likes and needs and b) because they actually (after getting drunk at Dorota's & Nate's) communicate about it and work out their problem like adults.

Because that's the thing about Dan and Blair - it's a real adult relationship. It's not a never-ending game of cat and mouse, it's not a fallback, it's not a bad habit...everything else just melts away when they're together. They grew and changed together...they learned to put aside their prejudices and see each other beyond their facades. They became better people together. They always had someone they knew they could turn to.

And that's what true love is supposed to be.

#I hope this is coherent #people will deserve a medal for actually reading the whole thing #dair #gossip girl #dairaw21 #dan x blair #dan humphrey #blair waldorf #gg meta #otp: dan loves me for me

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johannesviii · 3 years

Text

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2020

You know, when I finished my latest list and realised every decade had the same pattern and that we were slowly going towards a series of great years for pop, I didn’t realise how good that year would be.

What’s at the top? Am I boringly predictable because I already said I loved that song all the way back in January 2020? Let’s find out.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will probably be stuff in French somewhere on this post. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

So. Uh. How was your 2020?

Mine was actually surprisingly good, considering. I’m lucky enough to have a job that I can partially do from home, and I was extremely paranoid from the get-go and nobody got sick under this roof so far. Turns out I’m even better at my job from home and I got permission to work from home one day per week even after the health crisis is over! My first name was also finally officially approved and I can’t tell you how happy I feel about that. I almost feel bad to have had such a good year considering the circumstances. I feel like an asshole just because I’m happy, haha.

The only frustrating part was that I was supposed to see Hatari in concert in Paris in early April which, as you can guess, was cancelled. I’m not too mad about it though, since their tour was called “Europe will crumble” and the message saying the tour was cancelled started with “since Europe is actually crumbling due to Covid-19″ and that’s hysterical.

Good or interesting albums that came out in 2020 now, let’s see.

Nightwish released Human/Nature, which was a huge letdown compared to their previous album, but I will relisten to it at some point to make sure I wasn’t just in a bad mood that day.

The Birthday Massacre released Diamonds, which might be their weakest album since their debut, but contained some real gems (I listened to The Last Goodbye on a loop, it floored me. Flashback and Enter are also very good).

The 1975 released Notes On A Conditional Form, and let’s be real, it’s a f█cking mess. You could cut half the tracks and end up with an excellent album, but as it is it’s like, yes, a collection of notes ; however there’s some truely excellent shit on it (see unelligible songs).

Thanks to a friend on a discord server I was exposed to Dorian Electra’s music and I haven’t been quite the same ever since. I’m so happy to be alive to see other enbies making such great music with an insanely good aesthetic surrounding it and asking so many interesting questions about gender. Also the arc the ‘gentleman’ character goes through over the course of the entire tracklist of the 2020 My Agenda album is absolutely hilarious, don’t @ me.

I also discovered 100 Gecs this year. Why are most of you guys saying it’s unlistenable garbage. It’s just as abrasive and over the top as industrial music is, but with none of the edginess or drama. I love it. What the hell. But yeah Tree of Clues was released this year. Good.

Speaking of industrial, in March 2020 Nine Inch Nails were like “hey remember when we released Ghosts I-IV a decade ago entirely for free and how amazing that was? Well we’re all in lockdown and bored as hell so here’s Ghosts V-VI and it’s also free. Enjoy” and I f█cking died instantly. And it’s even better than I-IV. What the hell was that year

Jonsi released Shiver. It’s strange and highly experimental. I’m pretty sure it’s a good thing I was into hyperpop this year, otherwise going from his previous material straight to this album would have been brutal.

Yadda yadda yadda After Hours by the Weeknd good yadda yadda.

I’ve joked about that already but if you had told me in 2019 that 2020 would have fires, a pandemic, riots, monoliths appearing and disappearing, and also a super good Machine Gun Kelly album, guess which part I would have found the most ridiculous. But yeah uh. Tickets to my Downfall good

So uh this year I tried to listen to some hyperpop and liked it a lot, and I also dipped my toes timidly into screamo and listened to Svalbard, who released When I Die this year, and the entire album was a very beautiful, very intricately decorated punch to the face. It sounds like God Is An Astronaut except with a shit ton of yelling. I love it. Open Wound is my favorite track on it.

But no, despite all of this, my album of the year was from a band I had never even heard about before that year, called Spanish Love Songs. The album is titled Brave Faces Everyone and it’s line after line after line of extremely relatable generational angst but yelled with complete sincerity and it’s so propulsive and energetic you can’t help but feel both exhausted and ready to fight the entire universe. I don’t know how it works, but it’s incredible. The entire album is wonderfully brutal, so it’s kind of difficult to pick my favorite songs on it, but Beachfront Property and the title track stand out.

Unelligible songs, now, and there’s, uh, quite a few of them too so I’m also gonna use bullet points. Good lord this post is gonna be long.

First, let me say I have literally no idea why Midnight Sky by Miley Cyrus wasn’t a bigger hit. It’s not on the year-end US top 100 and it feels extremely wrong. Would have made it to #4 on this list otherwise.

I still entertain the vague hope that stuff from Machine Gun Kelly will chart higher in 2021 but I doubt it will happen so I might as well tackle it now and say that Bloody Valentine and especially Forget Me Too are both excellent and that it’s a shame radios aren’t playing them more often.

Heaven by the late Avicii featuring Coldplay should have charted in 2019 and still didn’t chart in 2020 and that’s a real shame.

If the world was a bit less unfair, Lovesick Girls by Blackpink would have been a hit rather than the awful Ice Cream.

One day I will stop complaining about my bafflement concerning the lack of mainstream pop charts success of The 1975. Today is not that day. I just love how they keep making songs about extremely awkward relationships full of weird details, and I haven’t grown tired of that yet. So yeah If You’re Too Shy is about a guy who’s crush is asking him to get naked on Skype in his hotel room and he’s, uh, not too sure about that idea.

And Me & You Together is about a guy who never finds the right moment to tell his best friend he’s in love with her, and he manages to do so at the end and it’s cute as hell. My fave part is “I'm sorry that I'm kinda queer / It's not as weird as it appears / It's 'cause my body doesn't stop me (Stop me) / Oh, it's okay, lots of people think I'm gay / But we're friends, so it's cool, why would it not be?”. Relatable as f█ck.

And now for an international hit that should have been bigger in the US and/or in my country but wasn’t: Head & Heart by Joel Corry and MNEK.

I’ve heard Nos Célébrations by Indochine extremely often on French radio for months now so I was very surprised to see that it didn’t crack the local year-end list. What happened.

I can finally hear the appeal of Bring Me The Horizon. It took me ages. And also Death Stranding. The song Ludens isn’t in the game per say, but it’s among the ones you can pick to broadcast briefly when people drive by your constructions, and long story short it's been living rent-free in my head for months now.

Phew.

It’s time for a round of Honorable Mentions for elligible songs, containing a couple of guilty pleasures, which is saying something considering the kind of shit I put on some of my previous lists.

Ne Reviens Pas (Gradur et Heuss l’Enfoiré) - Heuss is a French artist that kept baffling me while making my lists for the previous years, and I was like “??? ok, that’s it then, I guess I’m getting too old to get what teenagers find funny”. This one worked for me, though. And the music video doesn’t hurt. Really dumb and really fun.

Adore You (Harry Styles) - Perfectly good little pop song, very pleasant to listen to, never outstayed its welcome for me.

Mood (24kGoldn) - This doesn’t sound like a very good relationship, my dude, but that’s still a super pleasant song.

WAP (Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion) - This song is absolutely hilarious and I will hear no argument from any of you.

Control (Zoe Wees) - Was clearly a hit here. Should have been even bigger though. What a powerful but comfy voice. If I had better taste it would be on the list.

Hot Girl Bummer (Blackbear) - I. Uh. Listen. I keep saying I have bad taste and nobody believes me. Do you believe me now. But yeah. “F█ck you, and you, and you~, I hate your friends and they hate me too” is gonna pop in my head every single time someone is being a jerk anywhere near me now. It’s been happening all year already. Someone trashed my documents at work? Someone isn’t wearing a mask in public? That guy has filled his car with rolls of toilet paper? Brain goes “F█ck you, and you, and you~”. Every. Single. Time.

Come & Go (Juice WRLD & Marshmello ) - Damn, that’s a pretty good little song. I’ve seen plenty of people saying it’s ruined by the drop, but may I remind you I’m the person who loves Blue by Eiffel 65 with all my heart. If the song was ramping up consistently until the end instead of ending like that, it would have made the list, definitely.

And now, the actual list. This one actually feels pretty solid, I genuinely like everything on it, there’s no filler here for once.

10 - The Box (Roddy Rich)

US: #3 / FR: #23

Now this is a weird case, because for the longest time I couldn’t figure out why this song was so popular and I was completely neutral about it. Then, one morning in September, my mental jukebox (which always, always puts a song on a loop in my head when I wake up) decided to play it. And I was like oh wow?? I never noticed the atmosphere in that song before? It’s so great. And that hook too. Let’s listen to it.

So yeah, I don’t know what happened. It just clicked one day and everything fell into place, I guess.

9 - Alane (Wes & Robin Shulz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #93

Come on. You can’t do a remake of one of my previous #1 songs and let it chart in 2020. That’s cheating. Even with this subpar drop, I have to put it on the list, now.

I’ve already said my piece about the original, so I’m just going to send you back to my 1997 list.

8 - Kings and Queens (Ava Max)

US: Not on the list / FR: #76

[BBC documentary voice] After Lady Gaga decided to make piano balads and left her musical niche vacant, Ava Max quickly took her place as the top predator pop diva. Even after Lady Gaga was re-introduced to her natural habitat in 2020, she still hasn’t fully recovered in Europe, where Ava Max still reigns supreme on the charts -

(tldr I think it’s hilarious that this isn’t on the US Billboard while Lady Gaga isn’t on the French year-end top 100)

7 - Roses (Saint Jhn & Imanbek)

US: #19 / FR: #3

What an earworm. It doesn’t even bother trying to have an intro or an outro, so it loops almost perfectly. It’s like entering a party that started long before you arrived, and it will go on long after you leave it to go back home. Kind of hypnotic in a way.

And yes, my mental jukebox was very fond of using it to wake me up this year, so this is another song that’s here almost solely because of that.

6 - Physical (Dua Lipa)

US: Not on the list / FR: #69 (hehehe)

“Hey I’m not that old” says the guy who’s definitely a sucker for this kind of retro throwback that was so popular this year. Oh well.

I don’t have anything interesting to say about this one, though. Apart from the fact that everyone seems to have a different fave song on that album. Guess that’s quality for you.

5 - Rain on Me (Lady Gaga & Ariana Grande)

US: #48 / FR: Not on the list

That is far from being Lady Gaga’s best song, but it was a joy to listen to everytime it was on the radio anyway. Also Ariana Grande has surprisingly good chemistry with Gaga! This year was full of strange duets mostly made for commercial reasons, and this one isn’t an exception, but unlike a lot of them, it really, really works.

4 - Dynamite (BTS)

US: #38 / FR: Not on the list

I’m still not 100% sold on k-pop even if a ton of it sounds super good, but come on. Even if some bits of this song (especially the beginning of the second chorus) sound a bit like they were made on autopilot, it still sounds just as happy and fun several months after I first heard it and I never got tired of it. That’s quality. You hear it and you can’t help but tap your feet and smile.

Actually, I’m sure there’s people somewhere that don’t smile when they hear this song. And they must be avoided at all costs.

3 - Godzilla (Eminem ft Juice WRLD)

US: #62 / FR: Not on the list

What are you doing so high on this list, old man. Why are you still here in the year 2020. I thought we left you in the previous decade. Who gave you the right.

I’m gonna tell you who did, and it’s actually Juice WRLD. Because that chorus is incredible, and like a lot of people I’m pissed off because the guy died super young and this shit shouldn’t happen to anybody. No, his early material wasn’t great, but I’m sorry I’m gonna say it again: have you heard this damn chorus? It’s suspenseful and dark, it’s got this lowkey menacing quality, it’s an earworm and a half, and it’s more convincing in like six lines than Eminem’s own flexing is in the entire song.

The beat is extremely good as well, and the flow, obviously, impressive. The weakest link is Eminem’s writing, which is as usual full of puns and weird wordplay, except here a lot of it isn’t great, and that last ultra fast part at the end is technically impressive but it also drives the song up a cliff and stops it dead in its tracks once it’s over. But frankly the lines fly by so fast it’s difficult to be too annoyed by them.

Can I sincerely put this extremely flawed song so high on my list? A better question would be “did I spend hours trying to learn how to sing this shit without choking on my own spit?”. The answer is yes. To both.

2 - Heartless (The Weeknd)

US: #28 / FR: Not on the list

I’ve said it on my 2015 and 2016 lists already, but just for the record I’ll say it again: it took me ages to like The Weeknd, mostly because I found most of his songs fairly boring, or disliked the lyrics, or both. Also I never really liked the general vibe of his “sexy” songs like The Hills, they felt dark but in an unpleasant creepy way. Felt like miserable hedonism, if that makes sense.

So, because I’m a person with extremely consistent and logical tastes, here’s the exact same shit he was making before, except that this time I absolutely adore it.

What is he doing differently that makes the whole After Hours album click for me whereas almost all of his previous material failed to do so? Is it the energy? Is it the reverb? Is it the fact that the narrator sounds properly unhinged and, frankly, scared to be spiralling out of control? Why are the colors so beautiful yet full of anxiety? Why is that bridge so fantastic? How can you make your voice look like a glowstick in the dark?

I give up. I have no clue. At least I’m done talking about-

Oh.

1 - Blinding Lights (The Weeknd)

US: #1 / FR: #1 (listen sometimes something’s just that good, ok)

Surprise. Or not.

Wow, look at that, Johannes has put this year’s number one pop song at number one on their personal playlist. The audacity. The edge. What a hot take.

I discovered that song when it first came out at the end of 2019 and I adored it instantly. And I was so scared it wouldn’t be a hit. Which means I’m a f█cking dumbass considering it ended up breaking all sorts of records in 2020. But what can I say, overplay can be a blessing when you love a song that much.

Like every single song I put at number one on one of my lists, I will draw this one at some point and you will understand how incredibly satisfying it is to listen to a song called Blinding Lights, talking about city lights looking blurry when you’re driving at night, while looking itself like a bunch of blurry city lights passing by super fast. Perfect in every way.

Also it sounds exactly like A-ha, and that never hurts.

See you next year! Pretty sure it will be even better music-wise.

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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goosewhisker · 3 years

Text

russetfur vs. the entirety of skyclan || ch. 3

read this on ao3 || read this on fanfiction.net

chapter one

chapter two

summary: After enduring months of Turtlekit and Kitekit’s abuse, Rootkit finally snaps and accidentally awakens his powers. This has the unfortunate side effect of reviving the ghost of an angry Shadowclan warrior who: 1) is personally offended by Skyclan’s existence, and 2) has magnanimously taken it upon herself to relieve the world of that burden. Or something

okay so its been a minute since i posted. a lot of things happened, i got a kitten, a job, a new fandom, and i speedran a full semester of calculus in like the past four weeks. im sorry about how late this is and i cant promise when the next one will be up but its half written already so uh hope springs eternal. anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk

also shoutout to @turquoise-tulip for reminding me that ive had this chapter in my drafts for half a year now this ones for you im sorry its so stupid

Chapter Three: In Which Rootkit Practices the Art of Blackmail

The morning after is quiet.

...is what Rootkit would like to say. Actually, he gets woken up by Tree at what his mom likes to call 'the butt-crack of dawn' to go talk to Leafstar, thereby ruining his chances of being a normal warrior forever.

When they get to the leader's den, Violetshine is already there. Rootkit discovers this by walking into her while his eyes are closed in the middle of a yawn.

"See, he's about to fall asleep on his paws," his mom points out, sounding pretty close to yawning herself. "It's too early for this. Morning, kid."

Rootkit mumbles something that's unintelligible even to himself and falls asleep on his mother's paws. A few minutes later, he's woken by gentle paws on his back.

"Hey, kid. Kiddo. You gotta get up."

Rootkit hums absently, still mostly asleep, before realizing abruptly where he is. Mouse dung! Suddenly, he's completely awake. He jerks his head up, almost colliding with Tree's jaw before he pulls out of the way. Rootkit, too busy panicking, doesn't notice. He just fell asleep in Leafstar's den! After she'd brought him over to talk specifically to him! After seeing this humiliating display of incompetence, she'll really never make him a warrior, and Kitekit and Turtlekit will-

"Rootkit." The single word cuts through the panic. Rootkit looks up to see Leafstar, looking very serious with only a hint of amusement seeping through. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes!" The answer bursts out of him before he really thinks it through. And, well, it's not entirely true, but it's not entirely untrue either. Either way, he's up for answering any questions, which is probably what she's asking.

Leafstar looks at him just long enough for him to start fidgeting before she begins. "I've already spoken to your parents, Rootkit, so I know most of the story. I just need to know your side. What happened yesterday with the ghost?"

Rootkit looks at his paws, then back to Leafstar's calming gaze. "It started when I was at the grave. I was just- just talking, and then Kitekit found me..."

He tells her the whole, stupid story. How he'd lost it at Kitekit and Turtlekit and turned around to find a ghost looming over him; how he'd asked Tree for help, only for her to disappear; how she'd attacked him and Tree, announced her intentions, and vanished. At last, the story runs dry and he falls silent to watch her expression change.

Leafstar hums thoughtfully. She turns to Tree. "Do you think she's likely to hurt someone?"

Tree shrugs, looking uncomfortable. "If she's serious, yes. Most ghosts can't touch the living. Those who can - like this one - usually died violently or thinking they were wronged. And angry ghosts tend to be... volatile."

"Ah." Leafstar considers this.

"If it comes to that, what'll you do?" Violetshine asks. "Will you be able to stop her?"

Rootkit watches Tree watch his mom, and something in his dad's eyes soften. He leans over to swipe a tongue over her ear. "You want to help her, don't you?" he says quietly. "Because she's Shadowclan?"

Violetshine flushes, but she doesn't back down. "Many of them weren't kind to me," she says, "But Shadowclan was still my home once. I can't just forget that."

Tree purrs and winds his tail with hers. "That's why I love you," he whispers.

Rootkit sticks his tongue out in disgust. Bleh. Grownups!

"To answer your question," Tree adds, "I don't know what I'll do. I suppose-" he pauses, eyes tight with worry. "I've never exorcised a ghost who didn't want to move on before. I don't know if I even can. This may be something of an experiment."

The grownups look at each other for a long moment. "I will do whatever it takes to keep my clan safe," Leafstar says. There's something like a warning in her voice that makes Rootkit shiver.

"What should I do?" he asks. All three adults look at him like they've forgotten he's there.

After a moment, Leafstar's face breaks into a smile. "Tell you what. You can help by keeping an eye out for this Russetfur and letting one of us know when she's nearby. But listen, Rootkit," and her voice goes stern. "You must stay away from her. Russetfur is dangerous, and she may hurt you to get what she wants. Do you understand me, Rootkit?"

Rootkit looks into Leafstar's amber eyes - warm and worried and burning with a fierce, protective fire - and knows what he has to do. "I understand, Leafstar," he says, and just like that, his mission clicks into place.

From somewhere else in the camp - probably the warriors' den - someone screams, followed by Russetfur's haunting cackles.

Rootkit ignores it.

As he double checks his supplies, Rootkit runs through a mental checklist. He's talked to the ghost - check. He's figured out what she wants - check. He's given her what she wants - well... no. Tree's three-step-plan hadn't exactly accounted for what happened if what the ghost wanted was unobtainable.

Well, it doesn't really matter now. This plan is sure to work.

"Are you sure this is gonna work," Needlekit says again.

"Yes, I am, Starclan above will you stop nagging me," Rootkit says.

His sister makes a disgruntled noise and hauls the next bramble into place with a particularly vicious tug. "I'm just concerned you have no idea what you're doing, is all."

"I know exactly what I'm doing."

Rootkit doesn't have any idea what he's doing.

"Hmm." Needlekit seems thoroughly unconvinced, but she gets on with the task anyway. The trailing brambles she's weaving into place will form a turtle-shell-shaped cage laced with warding herbs over the grave when they're done. The plan is more or less to summon Russetfur into a cage she can't phase through, leaving her unable to escape. In Rootkit's opinion, it's a pretty solid plan for someone who has no idea what he's doing. "Why're you so set on doing this, anyway? Didn't Leafstar tell you not to mess with Gingerpelt?"

"Russetfur," Rootkit corrects her automatically. "And, well, yes, but..." he hesitates. "It's just... you know. I was the one who set her free in the first place, and..."

"Yes?" Needlekit prompts him. She's given up on the brambles and moved to stuffing moss and bracken into the gaps.

Rootkit fidgets uncomfortably for a second before the truth bursts out of him. "And now Russetfur's running wild everywhere and it's all my fault, and what if Leafstar decides not to make me an apprentice? If I don't become an apprentice, I can't be a warrior! And if I can't be a warrior-" he cuts himself off. He can't repeat what Kitekit and Turtlekit had said; even saying the words aloud seems like tempting fate... and he can't burden Needlekit with that, anyway.

Needlekit looks at him, though, and her gaze goes soft. "And being a warrior is your dream," she says, and starts stuffing the gaps with renewed vigor. "Well, come on, then! If we can trap Scarletfuzz then Leafstar will have to make us both apprentices! I can't be an apprentice without you; then I'd have to share the den with just Kitekit and Turtlekit. Can you imagine?" She pulls a disgusted face that has Rootkit giggling despite himself.

"Alright, alright," he says. "While you're doing that..." He shoves aside the piles of bracken they'd collected and settles down on the dirt. In his stories, Tree had never really talked about summoning ghosts - his work had been more about getting them to leave - but Rootkit is pretty confident about his ability to summon her again if necessary. More importantly, one or two of his stories had been about things the average, non-ghost-seeing cat could do to ward off spirits.

Rootkit spreads out his supplies, most of which had been scavenged from the medicine cats through a combination of tag-teaming and white lies. The herbs really are going to help his mom, just not in the way Fidgetflake thinks.

Thistledown. Rosemary. Lavender. Thyme. All plants that either attract or repel spirits, according to Tree (from what Rootkit can remember, anyway). Plus a lot of spiderweb.

"Hey, are you sure that's right?" Needlekit asks, leaning over his shoulder. "I thought we were gonna get some sage. And why'd you pick up the thistle?"

Rootkit frowns. "Well, Fidgetflake was coming back too soon and I panicked, alright? If you've got a problem you can get some more yourself."

Needlekit snickers and prods the massive pile of spiderwebs. "No thanks. I think you could've gotten a little more spiderweb, Frecklewish might still have some left over... yeesh, alright, I'll leave off the sarcasm. You don't have to glare at me."

Rootkit rolls his eyes. The immaturity of some cats. "Maybe I went a little overboard, but we need it. Frecklewish can just send the 'paws out to find some more. Now help me apply it; we need to cover the entire cage so there's no chance of getting out."

It's the work of a few minutes to paste it over with cobwebs, and the work of a few more to weave in all the protecting herbs. With luck, they'll prevent her from just phasing through. By the time they're done, it's so dense that a living cat would find it impossible to escape; Rootkit can only hope that the same goes for a dead one.

"Alright, fire 'er up!" Needlekit commands.

Rootkit closes his eyes to focus, trying to recall the feeling of power rushing through his being. Once, Tree had told them of a time when he'd jumped onto a wire fence and been struck by something he'd called electricity- what lightning is made of, apparently. Rootkit imagines it feels something like that.

The power lying dormant in his veins leaps forth eagerly at his call. It swells like a crescendo of sound, rushing out through his paws into the ground.

Rootkit focuses on the grave with every fiber of his being and wills it to summon its spirit. "Russetfur!" he cries out.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then, something shifts.

It's like a hole is briefly torn through space; instinctively, Rootkit reaches in, grabs something, and drags it through.

Beside him, Needlekit gasps. "What the heck was that?"

But her voice is wavy, distorted. Rootkit opens an eye and finds his world is tilted sideways. Needlekit makes a high pitched noise that scrapes its claws across the most inner parts of Rootkit's ears.

"M'fine," Rootkit mumbles. His words are slurred, he realizes distantly, because half his face is pressed into the dirt.

Needlekit jabs him. "This is no time for sleeping, Rootkit. Did it work?"

Rootkit blinks. For a moment, he has absolutely no idea what she's talking about; then, the memories start to flood back. He narrows his eyes, remembering the feeling of hooking a soul on his clawtips like a fish. "I think-"

He's interrupted by an infuriated caterwaul that drowns out whatever he was going to say.

"What is this?"

The cage shakes as its captive throws her entire weight against the wall, but it holds steady. The herbs have done their job; even a ghost can't pass through.

Needlekit laughs triumphantly. "It's bad kitty jail for bad kitties!"

Russetfur snarls back something absolutely obscene and proceeds to attack the inside of the cage with a ferocious determination. At least, Rootkit thinks she is; it's kind of hard to tell since they can't actually see her.

"Can she get out?" Rootkit wonders.

"No," Needlekit says at the same time Russetfur snaps, "You bet your kittypet hide I will."

Rootkit blinks.

"Literally," Russetfur adds. "Because I'll strip it off your back to line my nest."

"Oh." Rootkit drops his head back on the ground. The dirt here is very comfy, he realizes. Maybe he should just sleep here from now on. "Yeah. That was kind of unclear."

"It'll become very clear in a few minutes, runt. I'll even give you a demonstration."

Needlekit leans against the cage with a smirk that probably would have been infuriating, if Russetfur could actually see it. "Don't worry, Redpelt, you're clear as crystal."

Rootkit freezes. Even the scraping sounds coming from inside the cage cut off. "What was that," Russetfur says suspiciously. "Did you just-"

"Keep your spirits up," Needlekit says. "I'm sure you'll be back to your old haunting grounds in no time."

Rootkit tries to slam his head into the ground and discovers that it's really much harder to do when you're already lying on it.

Russetfur doesn't say anything.

"What's wrong, ghostie? You're as silent as the dead in there."

Then a translucent ear rises out of the ground right next to Rootkit's face and he screams loud enough to be heard halfway to Riverclan, probably, and scrambles out of the way. Needlekit screams, too, and then Russetfur is climbing out of the ground like a corpse emerging from its grave.

She shakes herself off and grins down at them with more teeth than a cat should rightfully have. "You forgot to ward the bottom," she says. Rootkit makes a very small sound that definitely qualifies as a whimper. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

All the fur on Needlekit's body has bushed out so she looks twice her size - which, compared to the full-grown warrior before them, is almost nothing. She's shaking like a leaf, but undaunted, she spits at Russetfur's feet. "Drop dead!"

Rootkit could kill her.

In a blur of movement, Russetfur pins Needlekit to the cage wall with one paw. "I admire your spirit, kit," she hisses. "But if you want to sass me, you're digging your own grave."

That's it. Rootkit has had enough. That is the final stars-damned straw. "Shut up with the stupid ghost puns, I swear to Starclan," Rootkit screams.

The wind rustles gently in the treetops as the two she-cats stare at him.

"The next person to make a single stars-cursed ghost pun, I am going to snap your fleabitten neck. Is that clear?"

Needlekit makes a stifled noise muted by the heavy paw slowly crushing her windpipe.

"Ah." Russetfur looks to be considering it. "Would you say we're dead m-"

Rootkit makes a very aggressive series of throat-slitting gestures.

"...you've got your father's spirit in you, I see."

"I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it," Rootkit snarls.

That gets her attention. Russetfur's eyes widen, then narrow. "Oh?" Her voice is considerably less friendly.

This is where it gets tricky. Rootkit's at a disadvantage - he's just seriously ticked off a relatively powerful ghost with a grudge against his relatively powerless clan, she's got his sister by the throat, and his only bargaining chip is a bluff. But there's an opportunity somewhere here; he just has to navigate a very prickly, very dangerous minefield and pray he doesn't blow them all up.

Time to channel his inner Tree. "Look," Rootkit says, in his best diplomat voice. "Clearly, we both want something here, something that we can provide for each other. What do you say we make a deal?"

Russetfur narrows her eyes and tightens her grip on Needlekit. "I don't think you're in a position to bargain, here," she says.

"On the contrary." Rootkit raises a paw. "I am in every position to offer a deal... as you just experienced yourself."

Russetfur scoffs. "What could you possibly have to offer me?"

"Your life."

That gives her pause. "If you could exorcise me, you'd have done it already."

Rootkit gives his best imitation of her knife-sharp smile and proceeds to lie through his teeth. "What do you think we were doing just now?"

The ghost narrows her eyes and says nothing.

Rootkit seizes his opportunity and plows onward. "You don't want to be exorcised, and we don't want you in our camp. So here's the deal - you leave and we don't follow." The last few words are growled out, like Leafstar whenever someone threatens the clan.

It's very intimidating, in his opinion, but it doesn't seem to have an effect in Russetfur. If anything, it only seems to make her angrier. "I won't sacrifice my honor as a Shadowclan cat to run from a bunch of kittypets," Russetfur snarls, leaning closer. "Even if you kill me again, I'd sooner die fighting for my clan than kowtow to some coddled housepets."

Rootkit grits his teeth. She hasn't called his bluff, but they can't have her running loose and hurting people. Think, Rootkit! "Another deal, then," he says. "If you won't leave the camp, then you just can't hurt anybody."

"No deal," Russetfur snaps.

"That's the final offer," Rootkit says coldly. "Under no circumstances are you allowed to hurt or injure any Skyclan cats. I'm not going to compromise on that point. And you can't really afford to bargain, anyway," he adds with a shrug. His heart is pounding so loudly he's almost sure Russetfur can hear it. "If you don't, I'll just summon you into the cage again and exorcise you for good. Or who knows? Maybe we'll leave you in there for a while. And this time we'll cover the bottom." He finishes with the nastiest, most hateful smile he can muster - which isn't particularly difficult, right now.

Russetfur goes silent. He can practically hear the gears in her brain ticking as she weighs her options. There's clearly only one real option here; he just hopes she isn't too prideful to take it.

"Fine," Russetfur growls, voice so low he has to strain to hear it. "Fine. I agree to your terms." The hatred seeping from her voice is almost palpable.

Well, the feeling is absolutely mutual. Rootkit dips into a little bow and bares his fangs in a farce of a smile. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Russetfur disappears into the air, leaving Needlekit to slump to the ground, wheezing. Rootkit waits until he's certain the ghost is gone before sinking onto the ground himself, body shaking with all the fear he couldn't allow himself to show before. Holy crap.

"Are you," Needlekit begins, then cuts herself off with a raucous bout of coughs that makes him wince. "Are you... okay?" she whispers hoarsely.

Rootkit makes a high-pitched, keening noise before breaking into nervous laughter. "No, no, not even a little bit. Oh, Starclan, I can't believe I'm alive, I thought she was going to kill us both. Oh stars..." he trails off with a giggle and buries his face in the dirt.

They lie there for a couple minutes, the silence broken only by Needlekit's wheezing and Rootkit's trembling.

"I want Mom and Dad," Needlekit whispers.

Rootkit couldn't agree more.

#warrior cats #warriors fanfiction #wc #wc fanfiction #warriors #rootspring #needleclaw #russetfur #tree #leafstar #violetshine #now that the general premise is done #everything from here on out is stupid ghost shenanigans #you know #if i ever get around to writing them

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inyoursheets · 4 years

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I just love Warm Water and I know you said it will be awhile to the next chapter. Can you drop a tidbit of the next chapter if you have something you’re willing to share? I just want them together 🥺

ohhhhhh anon!!! you are the sweetest!!!!! im so flattered you’d ask!!! it’s been, what, over a month since the last update? i’ve had to rewrite this chapter almost entirely, so it did take a minute. but but but i think i have some (tentative) good news? i think? im scared of getting our hopes up haha, but ive actually managed to do quite a bit of writing this week and i actually think it won’t be all that much more time to wrap up the next chapter? i think, i hope, i can finish it this week.

it does need more work bc im not satisfied with two of the scenes -- scenes that i want to do justice and they’re high stakes for me, so im really not gonna publish until im happy with it, no lingering doubts whatsoever. the bones are definitely there tho, so now it’s just a matter of rewriting some pieces, injecting it with more feelings, and connecting things a little more nicely, but also thinking on them a little more. another reason chapter twelve has taken more time is because chapter thirteen is rio pov, and there’s some overlap in the scenes, so i have to make sure i don’t write something into twelve that then doesn’t work for chapter thirteen, if that makes sense?

i don’t work chronologically (im a mess), so that means that ive been writing for all chapters that are left. which means that once i’ve got chapter 12 done, i think the next ones won’t take as long, i imagine! ive got chapter 13 down except for one (very self-indulgent) scene, chapter 14 is basically finished, chapter 15 does need some more love but it’s already got a solid base, so i have faith it won’t take months to write. so that’s good!

as for a snippet, here you go!

She wants to love him out loud so badly. She wants to show him what he means to her, wants to make him feel like she could be a home, a future. She wants him, possessive with love, with truth, standing next to each other by the sink like this at the end of each day, in a silence that breathes comfort instead of friction. She wants to press into his skin, let the thoughts lingering at night get their physical form. She wants him to let her ease his hurt, ignite his laughter, make him giddy to come home to her. The way she used to feel when he did—come home to her, fully present.

bc of the last line tag that was going around, there’s some more (very) tiny tidbits floating around here and also here (but includes spoilers) and here (rio pov). hopefully this is enough to tide you over until i finish this chapter! thank you for your sweet ask!!!

#ask #anonymous #my fic #this was such a sweet message to wake up to this morning #terms and conditions apply to all snippets lol bc i might still change some stuff #but the gist remains??? i think????? yeah #also me detailing what i have to do was for my own benefit sorry i blatantly used this ask to get my own head straight lol #ok time to deep dive into what i wrote this week #watch me work on ch. 13-15 instead of 12 this week looool oops #lol okay no im really gonna try and work on the appropriate chapter this week #but maybe today i will cheat and work on chapter 13 instead <3 zero regrets <3 just vibes <3

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cheemerthelizard · 4 years

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Hi! If it’s not too much of a bother, could I ask for some headcanons between recovering Kakyoin (survival AU where he lives, but is still very hurt) and a nurse!reader who takes care of him? Maybe he has flashbacks to the past battles, and is frequently in a lot of pain so the reader always tries to comfort him and they develop a romantic relationship? Thank you, please don’t feel pressured to do this and take all the time you need 💜

Aw yes more Kakyoin content! This boy is my one and only.

Kakyoin’s brow furrowed, and his eyes peeped open. He tried to get up, but quickly laid back down, realizing how much everything hurt.

“Don’t try to get up yet,” a calm, sweet voice told him. “You’re heavily injured.”

Kakyoin’s head slowly tilted towards the voice, where a woman with a nurse’s outfit was kneeling down beside him.

“You’ve been unconscious for quite some time,” she said. “Your friends were very worried you’d never wake up. I’m sure they’d be delighted to see you again, but that’s up to you.”

His friends. He smiled thinking about the four others who had assisted him on the journey. And by the sound of it, Dio was gone. “I’d love to see them, too,” he answered, noticing how weak his voice was.

“Then we’ll send them in right away,” the nurse patted his head, and walked towards the door. Before she opened it, however, she turned back to him. “I’m going to be your nurse, by the way. You can call me Nurse (L/N).”

As Nurse (L/N) closed the door behind her, Kakyoin summoned Hierophant Green, and followed her down to his friends.

“Mr. Kakyoin is awake now,” she told them, as Hierophant waved at them from behind. The last thing Kakyoin expected was for Nurse (L/N) to shriek in fear when she turned around. “What is that thing?!” she exclaimed.

Hierophant slithered back to Kakyoin’s hospital room, followed by the crusaders and a very distressed woman. When the door burst open, Kakyoin started to chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Nurse (L/N),” he said. “I was assuming you couldn’t see him. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

After that fiasco, Kakyoin and his friends explained what she had seen, and that it meant she had one, too.

“Oh, yes, I’ve known about my ‘Stand,’ as you call it,” she explained. “It has the ability to calm others around it. I’ve been a supervisor for many high-risk operations and a personal caretaker for many patients who might have stress, all because of my ability, which makes me a good luck charm. That’s why they paired me with you, because you’ve been shown to have high amounts of stress for the past fifty days or so, especially the day you were hurt so badly.”

The four others in the room looked at each other, a look of bittersweetness on their faces.

“Anyway,” Nurse (L/N) started walking off, “I’ll let you and your friends talk for a little while.”

“It’s good to see you awake, Kakyoin,” Joseph patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Kakyoin smiled. “How long was I unconscious?”

“A whole week,” Jotaro answered him. “We were lucky enough to save you before you died.”

After some catching up, Jotaro, Polnareff, and Joseph stood up, said their goodbyes, and let Nurse (L/N) come back in.

“They’re a lively bunch,” she joked, changing Kakyoin’s IV fluids. “How did you meet them? Well, I expect the schoolboy to be a classmate of yours.”

“Sort of,” Kakyoin explained. “You see, it all started when-”

The first time trying to recall the memories of his first encounter with Dio made him start to freak out, especially after linking it to his almost final moments, as he flew away from the vampire and into a water tower. He was breathing fast, digging his nails into his scalp, and muttering something about time.

“Oh! Oh, no!” Nurse (L/N) rushed to his side, using her Stand to calm him down and get rid of any stress he was feeling.

“Thank you,” Kakyoin said. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you the story without being traumatized.”

“I hope so,” Nurse (L/N) replied, brushing the hair out of his face. “I would love to hear it.”

And so, the days went by, Kakyoin slowly recovering, and Nurse (L/N) taking care of him. The two of them had lots of conversation together, and not just small talk. They both enjoyed each other’s company very much.

“Oh, today one of your friends is visiting you,” Nurse (L/N) told Kakyoin. “He came all the way from France just to see you.”

“Really?” Kakyoin muttered. “Yes, please send him in. Thank you, Nurse (L/N).”

“Please, just call me (Y/N),” she answered him as she walked off and let Polnareff in.

“Kakyoin!” Polnareff said enthusiastically. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good,” Kakyoin replied. “I’m able to sit up now, as you can tell, so that’s nice. And I can eat solid food again.”

“I was told that you might lose all feeling in your legs.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. But since I’m lucky enough to be alive, I try not to complain too much.”

“How’s the nurse been treating you?”

Without even realizing it, a light blush formed on Kakyoin’s cheeks. “She’s nice. I’ve had a couple of trauma episodes that she’s helped me calm down from. One of these days, I’m going to recover from the trauma and get to tell her the whole story.”

“Oh, what’s that I see on your cheek?” Polnareff teased. “Is that… are you blushing? Do you looooove her?”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous,” Kakyoin deflected, still smiling. “She’s a friend, and it’s only because we’ve talked so much that we’re so close.”

“Sure, she’s ‘just a friend,’” Polnareff smirked.

“She is!” Kakyoin pushed his friend a little, getting defensive. “Plus, if I were to tell her how I feel, things might get awkward. After all, she’s about the only person I ever see anymore.”

“So you do love her!” Polnareff exclaimed.

“Not so loud!” Kakyoin whispered. “She could hear you!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Polnareff whispered back. “Still! My best friend is in love, and I’m the only soul who knows!”

“And it better stay that way, understand?”

“I understand,” Polnareff pouted. “I’ll keep your secret.”

“Thank you,” Kakyoin smiled.

“Well, I should be going now. I’m going to tour Egypt, this time without worrying about Dio.”

“Have fun! Bring me back a souvenir!” Kakyoin joked.

Another two weeks passed, Kakyoin still being bedridden, to his demise, and (Y/N) cheerfully taking care of his every need.

“Don’t you ever get tired of caring for someone?” Kakyoin asked. “Like, you just wait on them like some sort of servant. Doesn’t that get tiring, especially for a cranky patient?”

“It gets tiring sometimes, I have to admit,” (Y/N) sighed. “But I remind myself that people might be cranky because they have to be waited on and they have an independent personality, or because something happened to them and they’ll never be the same again. However, you, Kakyoin, have been one of my best patients. Despite what we’ve told you about your legs, you’ve been very pleasant to be around.”

“Well, how can I get mad at you if you’re just doing your job?”

“You’d be surprised,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Plus, you’re good company. I can’t believe I’ve met someone with the same abilities as me. In fact, this may seem a bit awkward, but I think I like you.”

“Really?” Kakyoin asked. It seemed as though (Y/N) hadn’t noticed the enthusiastic smile spread across his face.

“Yes,” (Y/N) nodded, eyes glued to the floor. “I understand if you say no, but I had to tell you.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Kakyoin smiled, “because I like you, too.”

“Really?” (Y/N) looked up from the ground, into Kakyoin’s trusting eyes.

“Yes, I really like you,” Kakyoin answered her. “I was planning on asking you out eventually, once I had a wheelchair, but looks like I didn’t need to.”

The two stared at each other for a little while, until (Y/N) broke out of her lovestruck daze, shaking her head and snapping back to reality. “I’ve gotta… get your laundry done,” she giggled.

“Hey, once I’m well again, I promise I’ll treat you to something good,” Kakyoin called out before the door closed.

“I’m counting on it.”

#kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin #kakyoin noriaki #kakyoin x reader #stardust crusaders #jojo's bizarre adventure

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ma-gic-gay · 3 years

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A few hours, two kisses, and one nap later, he begins plotting his escape. It mainly consists of signing a discharge form and then hunting down Cyrus. Then, he'll kill him. Fairly simple, and does provide a good distraction from the chaos his personal life has become. His business/mob life has been fairly normal, no new competitors yet.

"What are you planning?" Carly asks, looking up from the iPad she's probably planning Morgan's return from the dead party on.

"How long until I can get out of here?" Hospital rooms inspire him to run very far away from them. They keep him cooped up, they're boring as all hell, and there's really no choice as to who can walk in at any given time.

"Probably tomorrow," she answers and he groans. "It's not the end of the world, Jason. It's one more night in a hospital bed." Debatable. It's a whole twelve hours, minimum.

"Or I could just sign my discharge form now and break out of here."

"No, you need to stay at least for tonight. Break out tomorrow."

"I don't want to."

"Just let them monitor you. Sleep. You won't be able to do much out there anyways. I'm pretty sure the doctors are going to tell you to relax and take it easy, which means taking a short leave of absence. Brando can handle it for a few more days."

"There could be a takeover-"

"Not without any talk. Come on, if I thought there was any threat, I'd be breaking you out of here myself," she reminds him. "Take a nap."

"I'm not sure that's the best decision." Actually, it's more time that he'd be a suspect in Cyrus's murder (that, rest assured, he will commit) and more time Cyrus gets to breathe the same air as him. "Stop the thoughts about it being unsafe because you're not going to be able to do anything. You're recovering from surgeries and a gunshot wound."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing everything," he responds, fidgeting again with the stupid IV. He'll break that thing out of him if that's what it takes.

"I'm sure you are, but stop pouting. Sleep. Take a nap. Enjoy your break from reality for a day or two and just relax," Carly reasons. You know it's bad when Carly's being the reasonable one.

"This isn't pouting, it's captivity."

"No one's holding you captive."

"I'm being forced to be in a room against my will. This could be a hostage situation," he says dramatically.

"Well, as cute as your pouting is, you're spending the night. Take a nap. Enjoy it," she smiles. "Oh, and by the way, you're not killing Cyrus."

There's a lot to take in there but we'll start with the obvious: "I didn't even say I was planning on it."

She rolls her eyes, "You didn't have to, I can see the plan formulating in your mind. No murder. Cyrus will live for the rest of his miserable life in prison without you sending someone to rough him up or kill him."

Sometimes it's a shame how well she knows him. It genuinely sucks sometimes because she can read him like a book. No matter how successful he is at hiding everything from, well, pretty much everyone else, she just rolls her eyes and lets him know exactly what he's doing. Half the time, she knows before he does. The other half, she's informing him it's normal to express your emotions.

"I don't think he should even be able to walk around," he admits, struggling somewhat to voice the hatred he feels for the other mobster. "I've wanted to kill the guy for years, ever since I laid eyes on him. Going after you, kidnapping and raping you as some sort of sick revenge against me was the last straw."

"It was stupid to go after me and he'll pay. For the rest of his life, he'll be in prison. Solitary, you said. He can't run his business in solitary. Cyrus will never be able to hurt me or anyone else again," Carly says, grasping his hand and squeezing it. "He's a piece of shit. I look forward to the day he's in jail, serving his sentence. But it's probably going to be a few weeks."

"Which provides plenty of opportunity-"

"He lives. You're not going to jail because of him, Jason. Cyrus isn't worth it, alright? I don't care if he dies tomorrow. If you go to jail, I'll have to break you out of there myself and that probably won't go too well," she laughs at that. "So, save us all the paperwork and don't kill him. Besides, I confronted him."

She- confronted- "You did what? Carly, that is a man who could kill you and threatened to! He's very much capable of keeping that threat! Did you want to die?"

What inspired her to go confront her kidnapper/rapist? What made her think that was the sane thing to do while he was unconscious in a hospital bed?! She could've died and he can't have that happening because it'd be his fault. It's also such an ugly thought he can't stand to think of it. Carly cannot die.

"I brought guards, I threatened him, I yelled and screamed, I also cried for a while," she summarizes. "And to answer your question, I don't have a death wish. There's children I have to take care of and I'm not done complicating your life yet. I've got at least ten more years left in me."

"You confronted a man who could kill you."

"With guards, Jason."

"That doesn't make it okay! Carly, you can't act like there wasn't a good chance you could've died! You can't reason with people like Cyrus, you can't go in on your own."

"I. Brought. Guards."

"And they could've died too. He took out a whole group of them once, an entire warehouse of the Novak crew."

"You're acting like I didn't know what I was doing! I knew exactly what I was doing and it was either that or wonder if you'd live to tell me I'm being stupid again, Jason. Which choice would you have made?" Carly asks, tears building up in her eyes. No, he's mad, don't start crying. That'll make him sad. No crying, Carly, please don't. "I'm not so unknowledgeable when it comes to the business, you know."

"No, but you don't know how the business works. Things like that, impulsive things, they get people killed! They're the things that cause people to die and not the type you can come back from. You can't be doing things like that and pulling stunts like threatening Cyrus. He has nothing left to lose, which means he has everything to gain. If he can kill you, which is what he wants to do, that'll be a win for him and a final way to get back at me. That's what he wants and you're playing right into it." Jason exclaims. Emotional outbursts are rare for him, which probably made the point more clear. He hopes so. Losing her-

That's a thought almost too painful to bear thinking of.

"I was worried you would die! Jason, I couldn't spend another hour in this room or getting harassed by Sam. I needed to do something, make some statement," Carly argues and he shakes his head. Does she not get it? She could've died.

"And you couldn't go to work at the Metro Court? You had to go and confront a man who wants you dead almost as much as he wants me dead, Carly! It was stupid. You could've died."

"I was safe-"

"You don't get it! Doing that, no matter how many guards are there, isn't safe. I don't care if you had the place full with guards, he wants you six feet under and he wants me even further. What if he shot you? What if he hurt you? What if he killed you?" Emotions just seem to flow out of him like water does down a river at this point, anger and hurt and worry and sadness all combined into one.

"He didn't-"

"Not this time. Next time, he could. You could've gotten hurt or killed or shot at and I'm not going to be the reason for that."

"Well there won't be a next time."

"How can you be so sure about that, Carly? You don't control him. He's his own person; he does what he wants, exactly when he wants, exactly how he wants. And he could've hurt you."

"Every single time you agrees to one of those meetings with him or left to go, seemingly, anywhere, I thought the same thing. He's tried to get to you a million times. But you didn't die."

"I didn't die because I'm aware of the intricacies of the business! You're not and, as much as I'm grateful you're not, I can't have you running around picking fights with people who want you dead, who want me dead."

"Do you want a fake apology?" Carly snaps. "Do you want me to pretend like I didn't know that? I'm all too aware of the fact that everytime I leave the house, I could get shot at and die or that everytime I see you it might be the last time because of your line of work. I am intimately familiar with the anxieties of waiting in a hospital room to see if you're going to wake up or not from yet another injury. You're acting like it's my first day as someone who cares about people in your line of work and you're wrong. It's not. I knew damn well what I was doing and I know you would've done the same if they'd shot me."

Well. He didn't think of that. Anger sort of half drowns inside of him, flopping but still very much there at her beyond dumb move. "You're right. I would've killed him if he'd shot you or hurt you. But that doesn't make that you get to go out and pick fights with him because you're worried. It means you've got to be careful, stay in groups. It means-"

"Don't tell me what I should've done."

"What would you like me to do, congratulate you? Congratulations, Carly, you could've died! You could've died and if I woke up to that knowledge I don't know what I'd do."

"You'd keep surviving. Probably throw yourself into the business even more, to a point I don't think it'd be healthy." Carly shakily says, clearly having thought about it. "You'd tell Donna all about me when she started to forget I existed."

"You've thought of this?" Jason asks, incredulous. "You've thought about what I'd do if you died?"

"When we thought you were gone, I thought about what you would've done if roles were reversed."

There's a solid 20% chance she's pulling at his heartstrings right now to get sympathy and it's working. 100%. She could be completely playing him and he'd believe it at this point.

He hugs her as best as he can in the hospital bed. "I wasn't dead. You're not dead, thankfully. But you can't take risks with your life, not like that. Your kids need their mom. People need you. I'd miss you."

"How nice, I sobbed myself to sleep for weeks because you were gone and you'd miss me." Tugging at the heart, yet again.

"Oh come on, Carly. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah I do."

It's a strange bond they've got (and a strange life he's got), but at least they can count on one thing: their friendship. Hence why kissing and stuff can't mean anything or complicate things. They've been in each other's lives so long, if they dated or something and it went south, he doesn't know if they could bounce back. And that's a terrifying thought, that they could be,,, not friends.

To be continued after I change my tampon and sleep because I'm fucking tired :)

@ryleighjosephine

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lovelybrittxo · 4 years

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where do I even start?

I’m literally only writing this for myself since typing a whole novel out on the computer is way easier than writing this in a physical journal which is what I normally do. I come to Tumblr though when I have way too much to say and don't know how to say it. I just need to get it off my chest before I blow up. so here it goes...

shall we start at the beginning? I grew up in a decently religious household. my mom, sister and I went to church almost every Sunday with all our aunts and uncles. don't get me wrong, I still believe in God and whatnot and I wouldn't change my upbringing in the church for anything. but it may have suppressed my views on the world. something my aunt said to me a few years ago has stuck to brain ever since and I can't seem to shake it. she told me that she actually believes that being gay is a sin and that you can love the sinner but not the sin. so like, she believes if you're gay, you can be gay but don't act upon it/the sin. she believes, for example, that being trans is a mental illness. like, I just can't wrap my head around that. and honestly, she spoke with so much conviction and “sense” that she actually had me fooled to think the same way for a hot second. and then to learn that my other “cool” aunt also believes this... kinda sad. both of those aunts have literally talked down upon family (and our family is very tight knit) and people they love... what would they do if they ever found out about me?

ive felt a lot of feelings ever since I was young. mostly towards males... but also towards females. I just thought the female part was me wanting to be like them or be their friend and just have them like me and accept me as a chill person to be around. but fast forward to a couple years ago. I was bombarded (in a good way) by social media flaunting (in a good way lol) different sexualities and things. its hard to describe but that “world” was just becoming more prominent to me I guess.

I started to try and put my religious upbringing in the background so I could focus on trying to figure out who I really was. ive been doing this for at least a couple years now. and although im still trying to really figure it out, right now half way through 2020, I think im getting closer to an answer. and guess what has helped me the most? tiktok lmao! no but for real, the internet is an amazing place for discovery in any form. after I started to get into real communities online (like kpop and penpaling) i’ve never felt more connected to the internet and it allowed me to try and find real personal help... if that makes any sense. i’ve just tried to put myself out there and not just google my feelings but piece together a map from asking real people over the Internet here and there to try and figure out who I am.

sometime last year (or maybe earlier) I found a YouTube video of a popular creator retelling her coming out story. I just randomly commented on the video about how I had been feeling, not to get a reply but just to comment. but then I actually got a real reply (not from the creator but still a nice person). they said something along the lines of me basically being bicurious. I had never in my life heard of such a word and I had thought that this person was just making it up. one google search later I found out it was a real thing. although at the time of first looking it up I was still very confused about the word... still kinda am? lol. however, just a couple weeks ago I had seen a post somewhere (an ad I think selling pride flags) saying there was an official bicurious flag. I was in shock. I thought it was a scam, but its not, it’s real (I just don't think it’s talked about very often cause it doesn't seem like a solid sexuality that you can claim your entire life). but anyway.

now what i’m gonna say next I don't want to come off in the wrong way (you nonexistent person reading this lol), but I feel like dating a trans person brought me into that “world” a bit more. like, i had literally never met anyone who was trans before him or anyone who was gay or used a they/them pronoun... never. but in his world, all of that was common and normal. and this is where I don't want to come off wrongly... I don't wanna make it seem like because I dated a trans person i’m qualified to be included in the LGBT community now or to talk about LGBT stuff or whatever. I just think because I dated him, it opened up my shallow world a bit. especially because he’s open about it (on a side note I always loved looking at his huge trans flag above his bed. that was the first flag I had really ever memorized because of him. besides the rainbow one obviously lol). like, his best friend uses they/them pronouns, and although i’ve always been aware of that, i’ve only ever seen things about it through YouTube videos and whatnot. I had never had to actually use those pronouns for anyone I knew in real life until I met his best friend. like, everything I knew about that “world” had only been through online researching/consuming. i’d never experienced it in real life before.

I remember one night we talked about it a little. I knew he was bisexual and so I asked him if he’d ever dated a guy. he asked me if I would ever date a girl and i just said that I had always thought about it and that my tinder profile was set to find both genders. then we talked about pride since it was at the beginning of quarantine and we didn't know if parades were still gonna happen or not yet. he said I could always go as an ally because I told him I felt ashamed and like I shouldn't be allowed to attend a pride parade. (of course he reassured me I can go and he wasn't shocked about me liking both genders at all...he just said ‘nice’ lol)

I still have a little inkling in the back of my mind that I still shouldn't be able to attend though. honestly because I don't know what I would be attending as. I feel like an imposter. I don't want people thinking that im doing all this for attention or just because I dated one person in the LGBT community. i’ve been struggling with this for so long... but it just so happens that now at 27 years old im coming to terms with who I am. I just feel like because I didn't figure it out earlier that I’m not “worthy” of being included. I feel like such an outsider because no one’s “invited” me in yet lol because im still trying to figure it out.

and on the same note, I don't feel like i’m worthy because I still really don't have a solid answer. at the moment I just use bicurious because ive never dated a girl before. the trans guy ive been talking about has been the only person i’ve ever been romantically involved with. im serious. I made it 26 years without being with anyone in any type of way. I feel like I don't have the right to call myself bisexual. however, I feel a tiny bit more confident in using that label maybe after I do end up dating a girl in the future and not feel guilty about using it because that same guy calls himself bisexual but told me right out one day that he’s way more attracted to girls than guys and im in the same situation but opposite. the only difference at this point in time is that he’s dated both and I haven't. but thennnn on the other hand, do I even need to label myself at all right now??

even if I did wanna come out, I don't wanna do it until I really have a solid answer about my identity. i just feel like such a fraud or something because im trying to figure it out so late. and like, im going so over the top with my support this year because I feel like I should fit in and maybe im trying too hard? again, I just don't want people thinking its because I dated one trans guy and all of a sudden im huge into the LGBT community. it’s not like that. all of this is just helping me bring out my true self. ugh this is the part where it gets confusing to put into words. i’m aware and I have pure intentions. im just trying to figure out myself after a long time of trying to figure out myself lol

some days the research is overwhelming. there's so many facts and opinions and different people’s stories and labels. as crazy as it sounds I just want someone who’s been gay their whole life to come up and tell me “yup, your bisexual no doubt” lol or something like that. I guess I just want to be validated in my exploration. and i’ve seen random tiktok comments saying stuff like that, that validates me, but the difference is that their comments aren’t directed specifically to me. they don't know me personally. it’s hard to have a random social media comment resonate with me. honestly, and this may sound selfish and not right, but when I was talking to the guy I was seeing, I almost wish he just told me straight out what I was that day. but instead he said I could go to Pride as an ally. and that was probably just him being respectful and not forcing me to be anything, but it almost had the opposite effect on me. by saying I was an ally it felt like he was giving me that permanent label even after telling him I like guys and girls.... ya know?

something recently happened to me that really stuck with me and I was so happy. I have a penpal who is very southern Texas raised religious. she knows the Bible better than I do. I had posted a Pride doodle I did on my Instagram at the beginning of this month and she was the only one who personally responded with an encouraging and supportive dm. if she can support whole heartedly the LGBT community and still love God, then why can't I?? and that's when I trulyyyy knew that I was right and my aunt’s were wrong and I wasn't going insane lol

I wanted to buy a bicurious or pride flag recently. but then was torn when I saw the ally flag (which I also didn't know existed until recently) and the bisexual flag. I know they're just flags but it feels so solid?? like you buy one when you know what you are.... and I don't yet. so I ended up not buying one at all :/

again, there was no purpose to this post because I know no one is going to read it but I just had to type it out into the world so I didn't have to bottle it up anymore.

#lgbt #pride #pride 2020 #lgbt community #bisexual #bi curious #trans #transgender #questioning #sexuality #coming out #me #personal

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