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how-to-do-it-better · 26 days

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Squirting: The Female Ejaculation

How you can get your woman to squirt.

By Alice_Roissy & dirtyjoe69. Listen to the Podcast at How To Sex.

Today we’re discussing the manifestation of female ejaculation, or what’s commonly called ‘squirting.’

Many a woman has been subjected to shame & humiliation by an ignorant lover who assumes that the chick just pissed in bed, in the middle of lovemaking. The truth is, He caused it more than she did. And he should actually be proud of his superior coupling skills. Bless his darling heart and stupid head! Here’s an essay

Please Release Me, Let Me Flow.

Men’s Guide To Female Ejaculation. Introduction and tips

By dirtyjoe69

Do you seek some physical confirmation that your bedroom skills are pushing your lady to the peak of desire? Are you delivering the zenith of BIG ‘O’s? When the blushed chest and moaning and screaming haven’t sufficed as proof, start exercising those arms, clip your nails and get your waders out…things are about to get real messy!

Men take ejaculation for granted. It’s like a 'liquid-trophy’ of man-hood, and the source of your future legacies and heirs. But cast your mind back to that very first time you managed to squeeze some 'Gentleman’s Gel’ from the end of your 'young chap’, I guarantee you might have been writhing in ecstasy, but you were also confused and maybe even a little ashamed. My boyfriend will admit to believing he’d somehow 'broken it’ when he finally popped his cork in his teen years. With females the climax has always been much harder to tell. After all, the female orgasm never had such a visible finale, or so you’ve been led to believe.

A skill possessed by most females but in reality admitted and permitted by few, female ejaculation is one of those few remaining taboos and 'un-tapped’ delights of the 21st century. You all know that your girl can’t help but spill the beans on your 'sexploits’ to her close circle of friends. She’ll be all too eager to divulge your size, expertise and finishing techniques, but never be fooled into thinking she’s dishing the dirt on herself. It’s strange but there are still some subjects considered too taboo to share over a bottle of wine, and depositing her 'load’ seems to be up there with rimming and fisting. In truth you are more likely to hear a guy discuss the pleasures of female ejaculation than you ever would a woman

History dating back as far back as the 2nd Century has detailed the ability of females to ejaculate during sex. Yet often when seeking medical counsel from doctors, gynecologists, and psychiatrists, these anxious ladies were invariably told they were incontinent and needed either surgery or psychotherapy. The belief and humiliation of it being linked to incontinence stripped any sexual satisfaction, often leaving the female ashamed. After all what girl wants to earn herself the reputation of an un-intentional 'bed wetter’? Even today’s UK Censors have been known to emit footage of females ejaculating from porn films, wrongly believing it to be urine and therefore fetish orientated. In fact what these ladies are actually achieving is the absolute pinnacle of female sexual pleasure. An ejaculatory orgasm, or 'squirting’ as now commonly referred, which renders them well and truly spent!

Most of us ladies who have experienced an ejaculation initially believed we’ve suffered from a leaky bladder. Instead of enjoying the sensation we were mortified to believe we had 'golden-showered’ our partner and indeed, in many cases so did you men. Lots of females, under thorough interrogation or clever coaxing will admit to having had an experience where they believed they’d 'leaked’ during sex. The feeling of ejaculating is not dissimilar to peeing, a shower of warm wet liquid and a feeling of intense release.

Often it’s the guy’s reaction to ejaculation that will determine any future releases. If he’s had previous experience, or at least understands what has actually just happened, things will be significantly less embarrassing for both parties. In truth, he has skillfully hit the lucky girls G-spot and her eternal font of pleasure. If however he jumps to his feet shouting 'Fucking-Hell! You’ve pissed yourself’, the chances are your girl will dry up like the Serengeti…as will your sex life.

It has taken almost 1,800 years for the subject, often considered an urban myth, to finally be an acceptable and willing bed partner. When it first started happening to me I was so paranoid I found myself looking at adult nappies in Boots Chemist surgical dressings department. You may snigger but I assure you, to a girl only in her twenties if you believe you’ve started to pee yourself during sex, it’s like the end of the world. No amount of Bulgari perfume is going hide the stench of piss sodden sheets.

For our part, the fairer sex has enjoyed and indulged the sexual revolution. We found our clitoris, and in increasing numbers so have men. We’ve stocked up on toys, some of us have even engaged in threesomes, swinging and discovered the delights of Fetishes. In a relatively short time women have been sexually liberated, and for the first time in history we can finally take the lead in the bedroom and dungeon. In 1981 when Newsweek published its editorial piece 'Just How the Sexes Differ’, it claimed the major difference was 'that men ejaculate, but women do not’. Oh! How naive they were. The actual difference between men and woman is that we can 'shoot’ more, and further than you. Soon teenage girls everywhere could be enjoying their own version of the 'Soggy Biscuit’ game.

Once released, the actual ejaculation itself can be a mind-blowing experience for both partners. Not only does the female get 'THE’ most intense orgasm, but also the lucky partner gets some serious dousing of love-juice. The amount of fluid 'squirted’ can vary considerably in volume. Most Doctors have settled between the 5ml and 100ml volume, but personal experience and others can testify to soaking a bath towel over the course of an evening. The amount varies as much as force of expulsion. My partner in particular will often receive a warm soaking of his balls. But on occasion, particularly during harder 'doggy style’ penetration I’ve managed to drench not only him, but also the soles of my feet and beyond. Something he’s definitely partial to.

In reality many men are fascinated with this so-called 'phenomenon’ adding to the growing 'ejaculating super-female’ urban myth. Legend has it that when Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee started dating a girl named 'Bullwinkle’ it wasn’t her looks he was interested in, but her ability to 'spray her cum across the room’. That may also lead some credence to Pamela Andersons’ claim that guys’ can’t get enough of her 'trick pelvis’.

Equaling the tally for all those 'pearl necklaces’ has its satisfaction, especially ejaculating during oral and I’m becoming very adept at delivering my own version, a 'sparkling-choker’. But a price does have to be paid for all this pleasure. First of all it can present a new slant on the question of 'who sleeps on the wet patch?’ Especially when we are not talking about just a loving’ spoonful, but up to half a pint and bed linen that look like they should be displayed in the Tate Modern. Forget Tracy Emmin’s 'un-made bed’. Check out my sheets, I could give Jackson Pollock a run for his money!

There are a few ground rules to undertaking your quest. Do not set out believing there really is such a thing as the 'ejaculating super-female’, even if I personally would wear the t-shirt with pride. Most women can ejaculate but many don’t. In the same way that all women can orgasm even though some don’t, be it through physical or mental blockage, or just plain in-experience. When you guys first engaged in a 'five knuckle shuffle’ you got a result. It may have taken a while before you managed to produce your 'baby gravy’, but you still got hard and it captured your affections. The climax has always been much more hidden and complex in females, and as such, a source of infinite frustration in men. Giving rise to that ever popular question 'How was it for you?’ You seem to need to ask us!

There are indeed many complexes in achieving female ejaculation but it’s best to start with compatible partners. Both parties have to be sexually adventurous as some women claim that their partners will literally 'wilt when showered’. Other females, especially if you’ve just 'popped their cherry 'ade’, will still dive for the bathroom absolutely mortified and convinced they have committed an indiscretion. If the idea of water-sports has intrigued you in part but you’re not too keen on urine, female ejaculation could be your 'holy grail’.

Now, whoever said that condoms were passion killers has never tried a mattress protector, or jumping up halfway through a really good session to find a towel. Forget that decaying crusty sock you keep under the bed, which is covered in dead cultivations of 'man-milk’. If your girlfriend can squirt you will seriously need to upgrade. At one stage I even started obsessing about staining the mattress. This doesn’t happen but it does raise yet another issue of 'protection’.

Like in Yoga where one is taught to almost reverse ones breathing pattern, in sex the female needs to control another inbuilt reflex. The building of the 'ejaculation’ does feel very much like a desire to pee and as soon as the urethra starts to tingle, second nature kicks in. When squeezed The Pubococcygeus Muscle (try get your tongue around that!), prevents the bladder leaking. It is crucial for your girlfriend to oppose this contraction and actually bear down against it. This is not an easy concept to get your head around because if you bear against the muscle that prevents you peeing, surely that means you do. Not in this instance it seems. Contraction of the muscle in this instance actually stops an orgasm from building; pretty much the same way as squeezing the base of the penis and thinking momentarily of Anne Widdecombe does in men. It does not prevent further ejaculation, just postpones it. This is the first barrier you need to deal with. Don’t be under any illusions that your girlfriend will fill your mouth with milk & honey on command. If only life were that simple. Remember the hunt for the clitoris? Well if that equaled gaining an 'A’ level qualification, getting your girlfriend to 'squirt’ for the very first time is like obtaining a PhD.

The ejaculation itself does come through the urethra, the same tube used for urination. It is located just outside the vaginal opening. If you spread your ladies inner labia and trace your finger from just inside her pussy, up towards the clitoris, after about half an inch you can find a tiny hole. Almost a needle in a haystack, especially if your lady is unshaven. This is where the ejaculation fluid exits, but not where it originates. That’s the job of the 'Skene Gland’. The equivalent to a male prostate, which produces seminal fluid in males and it’s hidden between the G-spot and the clitoris. Although some insignificant traces of urine are evident, the composition is not that dissimilar to the fluid produced by the male prostate to keep all those hungry little 'baby-makers’ alive during male ejaculation.

The fluid can appear like either watered down milk or can be clear in composition. It in no way offers any contraception as the fluid is expelled outside the vagina. Therefore the only conceivable purpose of female ejaculation is for pleasure. And the pleasure is intense, in many cases far surpassing any previous best. Ejaculation can take place during both a clitoral and a vaginal orgasm, thus providing a magical 'third’ orgasm. If you are lost on the difference between a clitoral and a vaginal orgasm, you might want to ask your girlfriend; although if you really don’t know the difference, you probably won’t have a girlfriend to ask.

An ejaculation results from manipulation inside the vagina, as per a vaginal orgasm, but with an added jackpot. Giving the female an amazing double whammy orgasm. Sometimes after ejaculation the female can virtually pass out from the after-glow of forceful feelings. But don’t worry, unlike men, there’s usually more to follow. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be filling up like the office water cooler.

Obviously a starting point to your crusade is required. It usually helps to wait until your lucky lady is already aroused before declaring your honorable intentions. Place a towel on the bed to help absorb your 'baptism’. Each orgasm will deliver a different volume of liquid in all manner of directions and velocity. This can range in spectacle from a trickling 5ml to a turbulent 200ml (I no longer worry about my creative juices drying up, as I reckon with my other talents I could easily always get some freelance work with the fire service).

I would just also like to rectify a point here about another 'urban myth’ that we girls have been swallowing for years. When was it actually decided that the male load averaged at 10cc? Who were these 'specimens’? My boyfriend often cums so much I once actually accused him of being a freak. Bad etiquette I know, but sometimes I resemble the star attraction at a 'Bukakke’ club. I have literally eaten his humble pie though; first time I ejaculated over him he was perfecting his oral skills. I came so much he was thoroughly drenched. His hair, face and chest were totally dripping. The sheet showed perfectly where his head and torso had taken the brunt, leaving an outlined dry patch. He loved his 'baptism’ so much I counted 9 more ejaculations before rolling over, passing out and leaving him with the mess. Now there’s a novel occurrence. On other more adventurous occasions we have actually measured distances, managing up to 5ft of coverage; and I used to think the Bangkok ping-pong ball trick was impressive.

If you haven’t yet introduced toys to your relationship, fingers will be more than adequate for the job. Both can achieve the desired result but for first timers you will need to feel your way around, so you should probably leave the toys until later. Scrub your hands well. Trim and if necessary file your fingernails, you don’t want to cut the poor girl (Welders, Guitarists and Builders take note: your fingers are not often noted as 'hands that do dishes’. But this is one area you can truly exploit those textured fingertips). It can also help to exercise your arms and fingers a little; you do not want to find yourself huffing 'are you nearly there yet?’ Time should not be of essence during sex unless your girlfriends expecting a birthday telegram from the Queen.

Start off slowly with lots of foreplay, for both parties. Maneuver her onto her back with you positioned between her thighs. Using your fingers and tongue stimulate her clitoris. Wet your fingers and tweak her nipples to really get her going, whilst executing the best cunnilingus skills you can muster. When you sense her starting to get aroused, insert two fingers inside her with your palm facing upwards. Enter your fingers up to the second knuckle and bend upwards to create an L shape. Now gently probe around until you find a rough surface approximately 2 inches in length. This is the G-spot and is located directly behind the clitoris but inside her pussy.

When you literally 'hit the spot’, start to stroke this area and it should start too en-large. Ask her to let you know if she can feel any increase in intensity. If she can’t maybe you have the wrong area so keep looking. Don’t go mad, but you may be surprised at your partner’s thresholds. Try out differing degrees of pressure as you are probing, and if necessary use some lube. Massaging the clitoris with your thumb whilst doing this also increases stimulation. If she is having trouble relaxing or is becoming self-conscious be prepared to let her see that it’s also working for you. It helps to see that your fella is enjoying himself, and watching my guy 'box with his one-eyed champ is an absolute delight.

Your stroking may need some variety. You can work the two fingers together simultaneously or they can work in opposition like a finger walking exercise. Work around the whole area. An effective method is to combine the two previous suggestions followed by sliding your fingers in about an inch, before pulling out and sliding them back in. Start off slowly and build in speed. Don’t go too hard; you are not trying to fist her. Try stimulating her clitoris at the same time; trust me this is not a time for idle hands. Keep measuring her responses. Heavy breathing, deep moaning and contractions around your fingers are a good indication that something is working. When you feel her start to bear down, begin pumping your fingers faster. At some point hopefully your girlfriend will experience a desire to pee. This is what you are both aiming for. If she can bear down and positively encourage this, and your handy-work has been sufficient, things should get very wet.

This isn’t necessarily the best position to achieve ejaculation. The inside of a women’s vagina is shaped, sized and angled individually, a bit like the shape of the male member. Penetration from behind may definitely be the key. Do remember however that in this position you need to work palm down. It will be easier for you to work on her G-spot and massage her clit at the same time. Try different variations with hands, tongues and fingers. Remember, if you do become dis-heartened, this time there are prizes for her 'Cumming’ first. If fingers are not working, try using your thumb. Although initially it won’t reach the G-spot, if you stimulate her clitoris it will swell during arousal. Take two fingers and lay them either side of her clitoris, then position your thumb inside her forming a three-fingered claw. This allows for the curve between the forefinger and middle finger to apply pressure and friction to the clit. If you start to move your thumb and fingers in a pumping motion you will massage both clit and G-spot at the same time. When she starts to bear down increase your speed. Over time it is possible to control and even prevent ejaculation whilst still enjoying the orgasm, but that’s just plain criminal! 'Please release me, let me flow’ should be every female’s motto. If your girlfriend does manage to ejaculate it will, rest assured, catch you both by surprise. This is a significant moment for both of you, and if it’s either party’s first time, you will remember that moment of impact forever. The truly amazing bonus that evolution has granted us finally superior to males is that we can do it again and again. Be aware that in the same way we can have multiple orgasms, we can also have multiple ejaculations. Intensity and amount of fluid may vary with each individual orgasm until our supplies are depleted, but the sensations just get better. Being entered from behind whilst 'squirting’ provides the ultimate finishing touch. The smile of the man who is lucky enough to have his balls drenched by his ladies cum is definitely a Kodak moment.

Your girlfriend may not ejaculate every time she orgasms, and indeed a case is even documented where a lady approached her gynecologist believing she was ill because it had stopped happening. Pressure on the female to deliver can be intense, and can prevent ejaculation in the same way it happens to men. Relaxation, an open mind and willingness are the three key factors. If these elements all click the final result will most likely be the most pleasurable and intense orgasm she has ever experienced. Now just imagine being the guy able to deliver that!

After ejaculating your girlfriend will obviously, and hopefully, be a bit delirious for a few moments. It passes way too quickly so let her enjoy it before commencing with your wicked-way. She probably will want you to continue in a few seconds, or she may wish to have a breather. But I’m sure you will also wish to take a couple of seconds to comprehend the aftermath. As for achieving other ejaculations beyond this point, it’s a bit like riding a bike hopefully without the grazed knees.

Once perfected, don’t be surprised when she now starts to hassle you for oral. Yep! Equal rights! Which leads us nicely on to the etiquette of swallowing and taste. Like male ejaculate, the taste of lady-juice can vary from bitter to sweet according to diet, water consumption and a host of other environmental and biological factors. Male porn stars frequently abstain from alcohol or spicy food for a couple of days before a shoot to combat what is known as the 'gag factor’. It’s an assault on the ladies taste buds and will invariably produce a 'Spunk-purging’ reaction. But if you drink a pint of water and avoid spicy food, it’s not quite the delight of Evian, but it’s definitely more palatable. Well the same goes for us girls. On occasion it can taste sweet, on occasion bitter and at certain times of the month metallic…it is generally advised to avoid these times as you could end up earning your 'red wings’. Nuff said!

By dirtyjoe69

Here’s More About the female Ejaculation, written to help men understand that she didn’t just pee in bed. In fact, her body and soul just paid you the highest sexual compliment that you can ever get. Perhaps 90% of men will never know the accomplishment of bringing a woman to this high level of sexual ecstasy. Here’s an essay from Roissy.

Squirting; She Can Do It!

In most stories Its mentioned how the women cum so hard it shoots out of their pussies. Not unlike a guy shooting ropes. It is all in the technique, and you can get there too. Whether you are a man who wants to see his lady just soak the hell out of the sheets or you’re a woman who would like to experience total indescribable bliss. Then you should read on.

A long time ago when the wife and I first started dating, almost fourteen years, we were like any other couple just starting a relationship. We would fuck our brains out every chance we got! The kitchen, the bedroom, the living room it didn’t really matter what room or what place, if we got a moment we took it. We thought our sex life was spectacular. Heck one night I remember ejaculating more than seven times. I couldn’t begin to tell you how many she had. We loved it all; oral, different positions, tie up games, fun with food, and even ventured into the swinging scene. We would read erotic novels or go on the computer to Literotica to find hot stories then play out the scenes. We had tried just about anything “normal” (because normal is relative) two people could do with each other. She would give me mind blowing orgasms with her mouth, cunt, and ass. I would eat her pussy till she couldn’t take anymore. Then one day we watched a movie, I can’t really recall what one it was but anyway, in this movie it showed a technique for making the woman cum so hard that her cum would actually squirt right out of her pussy. And let me tell ya, the look on the girl’s face when she was finished cumming was remarkable. It was a look of pure satisfaction. My wife asked me if I thought we should try the procedure and I said absolutely!

Now that you know how our sex elevated to frequent squirting, and let me tell you it is still a regular occurrence, let me explain how it is done! A pre-step to take before trying this method. Make sure to take a leak before you start. An emptied bladder is more responsive to sexual stimuli. You’ll understand more as we continue.

If you’re a woman who wants a higher degree of arousal and wet, mind-blowing multiple orgasms, let me talk to the man in your sex life. I have some special instructions to share.

This kind of arousal needs more than a massive cock to make it happen. Here’s how to get her off over and over, in a wild and wet session.

STEP 1: Make sure you’re both comfortable. Maybe a little wine, soft music, or perhaps a good erotic massage, it doesn’t matter, just as long as a woman is completely relaxed.

STEP 2: Do whatever it is you usually do to have a nice normal orgasm. If a female orgasm is having problems occurring, just skip right to STEP 4).

STEP 3: Make sure she is feeling very comfortable, it is key!

STEP 4: Start licking the woman’s clit and slide two fingers deep in her cunt. If your woman has a slightly bigger cunt opening, then increase the number of fingers being used.

STEP 5: Turn said fingers so that your palm is up facing you. (If a lady is trying to do this alone, she should have her palm against her pubic bone then bend the wrist so it points away from her body. Almost like are making a scoop.)

STEP 6: Push your fingers toward the ceiling. You want to turn your wrist like you are trying to start a motorcycle.

STEP 7: Run your fingers along this “wall”, feel for a small rough area. Believe it or not it kind of feels like a walnut. She will know the spot immediately.

STEP 8: Keep rubbing, increasing the speed and pressure as you do. Don’t rub too hard or too fast right off the start. Work up to it.

STEP 9: This is probably the most important one. When you do see your woman starting to get real excited, they might tell you to stop because they feel like they are about to pee. Remind them they have no pee in their bladder, and tell them to JUST RELAX and let it Go!

STEP 10: Take cover because you are about to be showered upon. My wife has squirted over three feet in the air lying on her back!!

So there you have it, lovers, ten steps to oblivion. I forgot to mention one thing. TOWELS, TOWELS, TOWELS! Or get a second set of sheets ready. And don’t whine about doing extra laundry, it is totally worth it.

I can’t promise this method will work for you but if you want to pursue a mind-blowing ecstasy, and never have before; why not give it a shot. We did, and the shooting hasn’t stopped since.

Cheers

By Roissy & dirtyjoe69 for Literotica

from How-To Sex Podcast

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aizawasgoodgirl · 2 years

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Headcanon of gang orca and whoever you like with an s/o who wakes them up with kisses

Oooo I haven’t written Gang Orca in awhile! I hope you don’t mind I added some other Pro-Heros to the mix ^^ But just for you Gang Orca First. This will be a SFW version for now :3.

Hit me up if you want more Headcannons!

Minors do not interact.

Gang Orca

You’re going to have to kiss him A LOT. This hero is a deep sleeper.

When you do finally wake him up get ready for cutesy talk. This man will use every pet name in his vocabulary. You are his love, his dearest, his Pearl.

Heres the thing, each morning you wake him up like this be prepared to stay in bed at least 30 more minutes. He will return your kisses ten fold.

When he is finally done peppering you with kisses he’ll pull you to the shower with them. Of course this is a huge shower, I’m talking about one of those comically large showers with two shower heads.

This hero is not going to keep his hands off you. Literally he just wants to be able to touch you, whether it's holding your hand, hugging you from behind, washing your back, any physical contact.

Eventually you would get to start your day, but Gang Orca makes you a promise that there will be much more kissing, among other things, when you get home.

Aizawa

He would ignore you at first, hoping you would stop so he could go back to sleep.

Obviously as you get more persistent you get a soft growl of, “Kitten.”

When he has finally reached his break point Shota, will grab you around the waist pull you to him and cuddle you and allow him to sleep longer.

Of course as you settle he would give you a gentle kiss on the back of your shoulder and hug you tighter. After all you are his favorite cuddle partner.

Eventually you would be forced to get up by your cats calling for breakfast. Aizawa would release you with promises to be right behind you.

He wont be and you know this. After feeding the cats you sneak back in and find a softly snoring Shota. You crawl on top of him and continue your rampage of kisses.

It takes much convincing and promises of naps, but you finally get him out of bed.

All Might

He is instantly awake from your first kiss and gives you the biggest cheesiest grin, a grin you fell in love with.

He will hug you to him give you a big kiss on the forehead and then start the day.

The two of you always start with a light jog, that soon turns into a walk.

When you get home a shower is necessary and All Might always makes you laugh by using the soap bubbles to give himself a beard or a mohawk.

Coffee is required and after a quick swig, you both are out the door to your respective jobs.

Fat Gum

Kisses and tickles are necessary to wake this Pro-Hero up. Most of yours days together start in laughter.

Tickle fights are a must, but its all in good fun and you almost always win and end up on top. Literally.

Taishiro definitely takes his time to appreciate you in the morning, gently holding your face in between his hands and admiring every feature as if to memorize it.

As he gets ready, you start to cook breakfast. Taishiro really likes when you make Imagawayaki. A fried pastry that you had perfected from your families restaurant, you especially loved to fill it with Red bean paste.

You leave a plate on the table as you go to get ready, You suit up to head out. While you hear Fat Gum singing your praises from the other room with a full mouth.

“You are amazing!”, “You sweet dumpling.”, “I could die from this flavor.”

When you both head out a swift kiss and a hug are all thats needed. Taishiro always ask you what's for dinner and you always reply, “Its a surprise.”

#gang orca #shota aizawa #mha #bnha #all might #yagi toshinori #bnha fanfiction #fat gum #bnha pro heroes #bnha headcanons

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tododekucrumbs · 3 years

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Light Novel 6 - Long Notes

🌸 My Hero Academia Light Novel 6 🌸 ✨ Todoizu / Izutodo crumbs ✨ Long Note Version

Longer notes on all the Midoriya and Todoroki interactions in the 6th official My Hero Academia light novel “Cherry Blossom” that just came out October 4th, 2021 in Japan! I posted a TL;DR “short note” version for people who don’t want to read all of this too, check my last post!

These are just notes by a fan, for fans. If you notice mistakes feel free to comment! And VIZ has released volumes 1-5 of the My Hero Academia light novels in English so I bet they will do this 6th one in the future too!

Notes under the cut to protect people from spoilers.

🌸 My Hero Academia Light Novel 6 🌸 ✨ Todoizu / Izutodo crumbs ✨ Long Note Version

Cover

Midoriya & Todoroki are next to each other in the group cover picture under the cherry blossoms

Chapter 1 - Setsubun School Event

The students are randomly broken into two teams for a Setsubun themed training event and Midoriya & Todoroki end up on opposing teams. Midoriya is on the Momotaro Team (“good guys”) and Todoroki is on the Oni Team with Bakugo (“bad guys” who have Eri as a hostage). The Oni Team can beat the Momotaro Team by hitting them with an oni club, and the Momotaro Team can beat the Oni Team by hitting them with beans.

When Bakugo is struggling to befriend Eri, Shoto reminds Bakugo that Midoriya is close with Eri and suggests that Bakugo should base his behavior on Midoriya (Bakugo gets mad at this idea).

The Momotaro Team is trying to rescue Eri, and Midoriya is with Tsuyu going towards the Oni Team base when suddenly a wall of ice appears before them. Todoroki calls out to Midoriya and slides towards them on ice but Asui manages to grab Midoriya before Todoroki can catch him. Midoriya tells Asui to run ahead without him and she does-- but Todoroki immediately freezes her and then chases after Midoriya. Todoroki makes an ice wall to get Midoriya to slide back towards him and tries to hit him with his club but Midoriya turns back and so tries to get Todoroki out with beans. Fighting seriously for the first time in a while, they smile like kids at each other as the battle heats up, enjoying fighting together. Midoriya later escapes.

Bakugo is still having trouble befriending Eri, so the Oni Team decides to all tell Eri good things about Bakugo. Todoroki thinks for a bit and tells Eri that Bakugo takes all his classes properly and is Midoriya’s childhood friend. Bakugo yells at Todoroki questioning why he included that he’s Midoriya’s childhood friend as something that’s good about him.

Chapter 2 - Valentine’s Day

The girls of 1-A, Bakugo, Midoriya, and Iida are trying to solve the mystery of who the “Prince of 1-A” is after a student from another class left Valentine’s Day chocolate for him without specifying who it was. They run into Todoroki and he’s carrying a big cardboard box so Midoriya asks him about it and Todoroki says it’s filled with chocolate that was sent for him.

Todoroki is confused why people he doesn’t know would send him chocolate, and Midoriya theorizes that it might be from people who saw Todoroki’s TV interview after he got his provisional hero license since that attracted a lot of attention.

Todoroki then remembers something and reaches into his pocket and pulls out two small cheap chocolates and hands them to Midoriya and Iida. Todoroki says he heard from Yaoyorozu that you give chocolate to friends on Valentine’s Day so he got chocolate for Midoriya and Iida.

Midoriya and Iida are super surprised and touched, and Yaoyorozu and the girls watching are also all touched at how pure & wholesome it is. Bakugo is disgusted. Midoriya and Iida then run off to the school store telling Todoroki they’re going to buy him chocolate and Todoroki watches them leave with a soft expression on his face.

Chapter 3 - Snowy Mountain Camping

We learn the students have been staying overnight at their internships a lot, and Kaminari is upset they’re not getting to have fun and relax on their spring break. Midoriya, Todoroki, Bakugo, and Kirishima all come back from their internships to find Kaminari complaining at Sero and Iida in the common room about how they’re not having a fun spring break.

Midoriya agrees with Kaminari that it doesn’t feel like spring break since they’ve been constantly on their internship, but then he quickly turns to Todoroki and thanks him for inviting him to intern with him. Todoroki’s expression softens at Midoriya’s words.

Aizawa overhears them talking and so sends Midoriya, Todoroki, Iida, Bakugo, Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima to a special new snowy mountain simulation training facility, saying they can go camp there for one night and use it for fun.

Midoriya notices something seems strange with Bakugo, and then Todoroki notices Midoriya staring at Bakugo. Todoroki asks Midoriya what’s wrong and Midoriya says nothing, but later it turns out Bakugo was acting weird because he had a fever.

They split into three groups to set up the campsite, get fish, and get wood to use for fire. Iida and Todoroki are sent to gather wood and while they’re alone Todoroki tells Iida he’s surprised that Iida came on the camping trip instead of catching up on studying that he’s missed during his internship. Iida tells Todoroki that he did think of that, but thought there would be things he could learn camping too, and Iida says the number 1 reason he decided to come camping is because Todoroki and Midoriya were going. Iida says it’s a rare chance to get to go camping with friends and Todoroki agrees-- Midoriya and Iida coming is the main reason Todoroki came camping too.

At dinner they all sit around a campfire and eat fish they caught earlier in the day. Midoriya is sitting next to Todoroki, and Horikoshi drew a two page spread image of this scene!

At dinner Kaminari says Todoroki’s Quirk is valuable on camping trips but Todoroki doesn’t get why. Midoriya then rambles about how Todoroki can use his Quirk for many things camping-- the fire can be used for warmth, cooking, light, and to scare off animals, the ice can be used for water or first aid, and Todoroki could even make & heat a bath! Midoriya tells Todoroki he could camp all by himself. Todoroki responds to this by saying if he goes camping again he wants to go with everyone again. Sero is surprised Todoroki is saying something so cute and brings up Early-Roki.

In the middle of the night their campsite is attacked by a Yeti-like monster (that later turns out to be a UA robot, the whole thing was secretly training from Aizawa). Students disappear one by one and Todoroki goes with Midoriya and Kirishima to see what’s going on.

When fighting the Yeti-robot, Todoroki freezes it in an ice wall and Midoriya is standing fairly close to it, mumbling and trying to figure out a strategy. The Yeti-robot suddenly breaks free from the ice and Midoriya has a bit of a fever so is slow to react to the ice wall breaking and Todoroki yells Midoriya’s name and shoots fire at the Yeti-robot to try and save Midoriya. The Yeti-robot dodges but Midoriya yells Todoroki’s name and manages to punch the Yeti-Robot in the face.

Chapter 4 - Eri’s Training & Shichi-go-san

No crumbs :)

Chapter 5 - Making Hero Promo Videos

Iida, Midoriya, and Todoroki walk & chat together when class 1-A is heading to meet up with the students from the Department of Management

Chapter 6 - Teachers Cherry Blossom Party

No crumbs :)

The end! :)

#tododekucrumbs #tododeku #tddk #todoizu #tdiz #izutodo #iztd #dekutodo #dktd #light novel #midoriya izuku #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #deku

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one-rosy-sock · 3 years

Text

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt.

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

#abner krill #polka dot man #the Suicide squad #abner krill x reader #polkadot man x reader #reader #therapy #chapter one

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bistevethor · 3 years

Text

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

#steve rogers #fic rec #pro steve rogers #i guess i'll tag the ships #samsteve #thundershield

170 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Note

For the DIFFERENT POV GAME:

I want Javi’s POV on this whole adorable scene.

Okay, my Queen @quica-quica-quica, I want you to know that I suuuuucked in a huge breath when I saw this Ask, because I was entirely unsure if I could do this. It seemed like a really hard challenge, but FOR YOU I’ll try anything.

I dug in to see what I could do, and of course because I can’t just write succinctly I had to start waaaaaay back in the beginning of the story to get Javier where I needed him for the phone number scene… hope that’s okay!!

Thank you for challenging me this way! This went from scary to amazing in just a few days! I love you so much, my friend!!!

---

Coffee Shop Girl (a companion piece to “For Now” told from Javier’s point of view)

Word count: 3000+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Javier Peña x “You” (Austin coffee shop barista; cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: slow-burn; references to previous hiring of sex workers; cigarette smoking; Javier masturbating

Javier Peña felt like he was at loose ends. Not for the first time in his life, but it’s different feeling ‘lost’ as a young man than feeling ‘lost’ when you’re on the wrong side of 40. At least a teenager can still expect their whole life ahead of them. Since leaving the DEA and the fight in Colombia behind, he had been feeling directionless.

Spending some time at his dad’s ranch in Laredo had helped, the way that hard labor and sweat always does. It left him too tired to ruminate, to sink into the blues and feel sorry for himself. He had lined up a teaching job at a university in D.C. but it didn’t start until the fall semester, and Javier wasn’t looking forward to an entire blazing-hot summer on the ranch. So when his friend Bill called from Austin and offered a short contract job doing consulting for one of the state agencies, he jumped at the chance.

Javier landed at Mueller Airport at 2:00 in the afternoon on the second Saturday in June. He made his way out of luggage pickup to the Hertz desk and signed for a rental car. It didn’t take him long to find the apartment complex where Bill had arranged for him to stay. Bill’s coworker’s son had graduated from UT Austin in May, and the lease wasn’t up until August, so everything worked out perfectly. Javi could sublet for the remainder of the summer, and the apartment complex was close enough to the office that he could take the bus, meaning he wouldn’t have to put too many miles on the rental car or pay for parking downtown. A small, blandly furnished one-bedroom apartment near work was perfect. He could make it work for two months, and he had certainly lived in much worse places during his years traveling.

On Monday Javier was introduced around the office and given his portfolio of cases to consult on. He also found out that the coffee in the office was total shit. He had spent too many years drinking government-grade slop at the DEA and other agencies to put up with it now. He wasn’t one to complain, or to order any of the frilly new designer coffee drinks that seemed to be making the rounds among the ladies in the secretarial pool, but he had noticed a coffee shop between here and the bus stop. Some local place, one of those Austin things where they boasted about fair trade and locally roasted beans. If they made a decent cup of black coffee he could splurge, buy a cup on his way into the office each day.

The bus dropped him off at the corner at 7:45, so he could grab a coffee and still be on time to work at 8:00. Punctuality wasn’t always his strong suit, but Javier wanted to at least make a good impression while he was consulting. You never knew who might be a network contact to something good, and he didn’t want to screw Bill over after he had recommended him for the contract.

Tuesday Javier tried the coffee shop and found out that their coffee was not only decent for the price, it was actually good. Wednesday he went back again, this time brushing fingers with the pretty barista by accident. He offered her a “thanks” and then went on his way. Thursday he walked in and stood patiently in line behind two stoner kids trying to make up their minds between breakfast tacos and blueberry muffins. The pretty barista was there again, and she waved him over with a smile, indicating he could skip to the counter and leave the hippie kids in line.

“Black coffee, right?” Her smile actually reached her eyes, and for a moment Javier was very glad for all of the body language and psychology classes he had ever had to sit through. It was nice having a pretty lady smile at you to start your morning, and even better that this one already knew his order. She was quick, he figured, and good at her job if she had his order memorized after only two days as a customer. Not that ‘black coffee, to go’ was a difficult order, but he hadn’t expected to become a regular so quickly.

He smiled and nodded, “That’s right. Thank you.” He looked for a wedding ring and then for a nametag on her black apron, but didn’t see either one. He slid a rumpled $5 bill across the counter, larger than the singles he had paid with the previous two days, but she was nice. “Keep the change.”

He thought he saw her bite her lip as she turned away, and while she was fixing his cup he took a moment to check her out. He wasn’t some kind of pervert who would goose her from over the counter, but from what he could see she was attractive. Hell, most women were attractive to Javier. He suddenly realized it had been a while since he’d gotten laid. His last relationship was years past, and he no longer visited prostitutes regularly. Javier wasn’t a ‘reformed man’ by any means, it was just that that habit had been limited to a specific time and place in his life where he wasn’t stable enough to have a long-term relationship, and it had the added bonus of gathering intelligence.

The barista turned back to him with the cup and when she handed it off their eyes locked and their fingers touched again. He saw her pupils dilate and recognized the little spark that turned over in his own gut. Damn, she really was attractive. But Javier didn’t want to be the kind of lecherous guy who hit on a woman while she was working. Too many men mistook the minimum of customer service friendliness for a sexual invitation. Or worse, like the men who hit on waitresses on purpose since they couldn’t be outright rude to stop them. Javier suppressed a smile and took the cup from her, nodding his thanks.

On Friday when he breezed into the coffee shop he saw the pretty barista smile from behind the counter, and she immediately turned and started pouring his to-go cup. She turned back and gave him the ‘what’s up’ chin nod while holding his cup up. Javier walked up and he slid a few singles across the counter to her.

Javier gave her a warm, “Thanks,” and winked at her. That was at least a harmless bit of flirting, in line with her bright smiles and her friendliness so far. If she liked it, great; and if not, then at least he hadn’t made her uncomfortable by asking for her number or hitting on her directly. When he said, “See you next week,” she smiled that bright smile back. Javier noticed that it again reached her eyes, lighting them up just a bit more than last time. A good sign.

The weekend dragged but Javier filled it up with errands: a run to HEB for groceries and to Highland Mall for a new shirt. If there was the possibility of a date sometime in the next few weeks he at least wanted to wear something other than his work clothes. Saturday night he ordered pizza and watched a movie on TV, some lame action movie with giant muscled guys shooting way too many bullets, and of course all the curse words and a sex scene edited out for network TV. Can’t let the kiddies hear the word ‘shit’ while they’re flipping channels, but watching Stallone blow a guy’s head off is good for their growing brains. He finished his pizza and a cigarette and then felt that tug, the loose ends, a little bored.

Javier took a shower and his mind went to the pretty barista, that smile, the sparkly eyes. He thought about those eyes looking up at him through her lashes, or down at him from on top. He wondered what her skin felt like, imagining the rest of her naked, spread out, touching him all over. He felt a little bit creepy touching himself to the thought of her, hoping it didn’t make him a bad person, hoping he would see her again on Monday. But fuck it, he needed the release. Javier came, spurting hot in the steamy shower as he leaned his head on his forearm and groaned into the cold tile wall. He wished he at least knew her name.

Sunday Javier slept in and then did laundry, tidied up the apartment, and took a jog around the neighborhood. He tried to talk himself out of a repeat of Saturday’s shower. It didn’t work.

On Monday Javier lit up as soon as he stepped off the bus. The first week of the consulting gig had gone well, but today was a big meeting and he knew the agency was not going to like his recommendations. He was constantly trying to quit, but at least he had cut back recently. He was down to a pack a day and only one cup of coffee. That had to count for something, right? Maybe his doctor would finally get off his back about that.

He smoked as rapidly as he could on his way to the coffee shop, and stubbed the cigarette out as soon as he reached the big window that overlooked the street corner. He tucked his sunglasses into the top pocket of his blazer and opened the door to the coffee shop.

The pretty barista was smiling, looking right at him and already holding up his cup of coffee like a game show model holding a prize. Javier felt his heart give a little squeeze, and he smiled and winked at her again as he approached the counter.

“You psychic or something? Or am I just that predictable?”

“Both, maybe.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and gave him a toothy grin.

Javier opened his wallet and saw that his smallest bill was a $10, but he decided not to ask for change back. She was attentive to her customers, she had surprised him by having coffee ready, and she was cute. “Great service, keep the change.”

Her face lit up and she turned to put the money in the register. Javier turned and exited the front door, and then decided to look back through the big plate glass window. She was looking at him, and Javier realized that meant that she had watched him leave. He hoped he wouldn’t have to tip $10 every time to get that look. He lifted his cup, nodded at her, and then made his way to the office.

Tuesday she had his coffee ready again, so he gave her another wink with his smile, and he thought that she purposely put her fingers in a spot to touch his as she handed the cup over. He paid with a $5 bill again, and then thought about her smile and her touch all the way to the office a few blocks north. He didn’t want her to think that the overtipping was him trying to come on to her; it really was nice to have his order ready to go every day.

On Wednesday she had his coffee ready again as soon as he walked in, but Javier supposed that was a testament to the bus schedule more than his own punctuality. This time he paid with singles. But he didn’t want her to think the smaller tip was because of anything wrong with her customer service, so he smiled a little more warmly, turning the charm up as much as he dared without just outright hitting on her. He noticed she was looking again through the glass as he left. But of course the only reason he knew that was because he had looked, too.

On Thursday Javier decided that it wouldn’t hurt to flirt a little more obviously, but to give her an out in case she wasn’t interested. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or fuck up his supply of good coffee, so he decided to take it a little slow. When he got to the corner he glanced into the window of the coffee shop and saw the pretty barista looking right at him. He took that as a good sign that she might be receptive to his flirting. He opened the door and let someone exit, then walked up to the counter. She pointed at his cup sitting on the counter in front of her, smiling that bright smile.

He arched an eyebrow up. “You trying to get rid of me? In and out so quickly?”

She grinned at him. “Depends on how long you were planning to stay. We close at 1:00 a.m. after open mic tonight. After that you gotta go somewhere else.” That was the most that she’d spoken to him yet. Javier decided to take his chance.

“And what time do you get off, after the morning shift?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” She winked and then bit the inside of her lips, like she had said something she shouldn’t have.

Javier decided to be direct. At least that would give her the chance to say ‘no’ if she wasn’t interested. He locked eyes with her and said, “I am.”

He was relieved to see her flash that big smile, all pretty soft lips and sparkly eyes. “I finish at 1:00, after the lunch rush.”

“Good to know.” He stuck his hand out to shake. “I’m Javier, by the way.” She continued to smile as she gave him her name. When she took his hand she gave a good firm shake, not like one of those women who went limp as soon as they shook a man’s hand. Javier liked her even more.

He fished a few bills out of his wallet. “Can I maybe stop by after your shift, take you to lunch sometime?”

“You can do me one better than that.” She reached down to grip the lid and spun the cup. He saw her name and seven digits scribbled in Sharpie. “My phone number’s on the cup.”

Javier gave her the eyebrows, very much enjoying how direct she was. It was nice to get a clear signal from a pretty lady, instead of having to play guessing games and worry about overstepping. He pursed his lips and nodded in approval.

“You do that for all your customers?”

“Just the best tippers.” And there was her pretty smile and her wink again, so soon after the first one.

Javier decided to give her both barrels. He put his hand out again, palm up instead of a handshake. When she put her hand in his he lifted her knuckles to his lips and pressed a soft kiss, giving her a look from under his eyelashes before he let go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Javier picked up the cup and left, and gave her a warm smile through the glass as he walked away. As soon as he got to the office he jotted her name and the number on a scrap of paper and tucked it into his wallet. He felt hopeful in a way that he hadn’t for a long time, and he rolled the cup endlessly between his palms while he considered his options. Options. Something he sometimes had taken for granted in life, until those moments where they suddenly ran out.

Javier drained the last of the coffee and then scribbled over her number with a Sharpie before tossing the cup in the trash. No sense in letting her number out into the world where some creep might find it. He smoked his third cigarette of the day out on the plaza and thought about her smile, the brush of her fingers on his, the way she approached him directly. He could use a friend in town, one who wasn’t a guy at the agency or an old college buddy. One who was soft and sweet and might be open to a date… or more. He checked his watch and calculated the hours until 1:00 p.m.

Normally he wouldn’t go back to the coffee shop until tomorrow morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to pop back over there today at the end of her shift, see if she wanted to grab lunch, right? He hoped it wouldn’t scare her off, going back so quickly. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray by the lobby door and jogged back up to his office, taking the stairs two at a time. He wanted to finish up, get this meeting over with, see if he could get over to the coffee shop before she left. He sat in the meeting, watching the clock hands spin slowly, listening to someone drone on about a budget issue that didn’t impact his work, and which could have been a memo in the first place. He felt his irritation creep up the longer the meeting went on.

Finally the meeting closed and Javier hopped to his feet. He told Bill he was headed to lunch and then jogged back down the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator. He walked the few blocks to the coffee shop, keeping an eye on his watch. He hoped he wouldn’t miss her.

When he got to the coffee shop he opened the door and let his eyes adjust to the dim light for a moment. And then he saw her, slinging her bag over one shoulder and coming out from behind the counter. Javier smiled.

She stopped a foot away and smiled softly, “Hey.”

Javier realized he was still wearing his sunglasses, no wonder it was so dark. He took them off and slipped them into his blazer pocket. He really hoped she wouldn’t think it was weird, him coming back so soon.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you. Are you busy, or can I take you to lunch today?”

Her face lit up. Good sign. “No, I’m not busy. I’d love to go.”

She gestured out the big window, “There’s a sandwich place around the corner, and a park we can go sit in.”

Javier felt his face split into a wide grin. “That’s perfect.”

---

Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

The only tag list I have: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis

#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories

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kyotakumrau · 3 years

Text

2021.04.06 a talk event at Meguro Rock-May-Kan film screening at Namba Hatch with Kyo and Shinya - PART 1 Report by とあ on twitter (topics are not reported in order things happened, I mostly followed the order they posted, 1st and 2nd session bits are mixed together) my comments go in (*…)

Shinya entered the stage in black hoodie, both hands in his pockets. He also had hands in the pockets when he left the stage. Came with a drink.

Kyo came on stage with his arms crossed. He drank some water soon after sitting down, I thought he started to play with the flyer but he made an airplane from it. Q “To Die. Please tell us the secret of your youth.” Kyo and Shinya face each other and laugh. Kyo: Is it okay to imagine what Die is doing? I said that I quit McDonalds, right? Die also said he hasn’t had McD in years. Fujieda: He also said he doesn’t eat ramen. Kyo: and he doesn’t eat spicy food. Kyo: Now he’s just eating, like tofu? Tofu or soybeans. Shinya: he researched and knows a lot. Even when going on a diet in the past he found a good plan. During the rapid question time they also answered another one for Die “I bought Die’s model guitar. Please tell me how can I get better” when reading Kyo answered “tooth guitar”. I think it was when reading about this guitar? Kyo started laughing then Fujieda started laughing and for a bit they both faced each other laughing.

“Coffee” Kyo: I drink it black. Even at home. Using beans from Starbucks. I drink 1~3 cups a day. Fujieda: Kaldi’s coffee is also great. They have many types. Kyo: If you say that they have many different types you have to try them to compare. You don’t say this even though you didn’t drink them, right? Fujieda: I tried quite a lot. There’s different one for each season. Now they sell sakura blend etc. Kyo: Ah, then it’s fine. If you drank it. Shinya: some years back I bought Nespresso coffee maker but I’ve only used it for 2 weeks. It’s still in my house. Kyo (suddenly looking at Shinya): gimme! (くれ!) Shinya: o, okay. Kyo (turning to Fujieda looking happy): he said okay! Kyo: Then I will give you a coupon to get that right side curl fixed. it caught my eye that looking from here that just the right side of your hair has this weird curl. Shinya: No, it’s not weird... Kyo: But I will give you a voucher to get that fixed.

“What’s your routine before the show?” Both of them don’t have one Kyo: Does anyone have? Fujieda: Toshiya is doing muscle training. Kyo: Ah... and doesn’t Die move around a lot? Shinya: He does. Until the start he’s very restless. Kyo: Right? Even when we all gather one is always going back and forth. “Your favourite takoyaki” Shinya: I don’t care. Even though I’m from Osaka I don’t really eat takoyaki. It is said that every household in Kansai will have a takoyaki machine but we didn’t. In the 20 years I lived there I only had like 5 octopus balls. Kyo: That time when you were wearing that long earring? You only had 5? So what type? Shinya: the one that is crispy outside and soft inside

“A difficult song” Shinya: Rinkaku. Because I need to keep kicking. It’s faster than Zan. The drum is nice but it totally kills my leg. Kyo: DIFFERENT SENSE as I said before. I imagined a dialogue as it’s a heavy song when I made it, but when I didn’t get any response, I ended up having to sing all of it by myself so it’s really tiring. I tried control my breathing when swimming but I can’t. Kyo: So in the end it’s like swimming the whole thing without breathing. I was told by Kaoru to try pointing the mic [at fans], but all I get is ‘eh right now?’ (gestures pointing with his right arm) I get ‘eh here?’ The people in front of me try to respond, but the people on the sides (again points with his right arm) go ’eh? Eh? Here? (agitated) so I gave up. I don’t mind if it’s the wrong pitch, just put your feelings into it.

Kyo: I started playing Monster Hunter. On Switch. Takabayashi: I’m also playing. Kyo: Then let’s play together! (big grin) Takabayashi: Okay. Shinya: I bought it on the day DS got released, but I couldn’t understand the objective of the game after playing for a day so I didn’t feel like playing anymore. Kyo: So you just started playing from zero by yourself? No one helped you saying what to do? Shinya: Yup. Kyo: If you told me I’d have helped you. Shinya: So in the end what happens? What is the goal? Kyo: there’s none. Shinya: What? Kyo: You just continue getting your level up. Shinya: And for how long do you continue to play? Kyo: There are people who continue playing until the next game comes out. Shinya: Woah...

"What weapons you're using in Monster Hunter" Kyo: I'm using a bow. It might seem it's because it's huge, but I can attack from a distance and avoid being found. Make a shot from a distance, if you're found out you can run away. Direct confrontation is scary.

“During the Osaka period what studio did you use?” Kyo: Was it in Umeda? Shinya: Yup. Fujieda: What was the name? Kyo: I don’t remember. Do you? Shinya: Yes. It was M4　www.m4-studio.com Kyo: That’s some memory. Shinya: I booked it. I confirmed the date with 4 of you and called them. We made Karma and Aoi Tsuki there.

“About Oboro teaser” Kyo: Could you see me? I only watched it on my phone so couldn’t tell what was what.

“Rock-May-KanGIG" Shinya: there were many problems... no one around me [to help]. When my ear monitor fell out I had to fix it myself. And I made this rookie mistake of not pressing record on camera... Kyo: We don’t remember things like that. Kyo: Do you remember what you ate a month ago? You don’t right? It’s the same. You might remember that the main dish was shrimp but you won’t remember sides. “About SOGAI in May” Kyo: something that will happen in a month...Do you think about what you will be eating in a month? Fujieda: But I think many fans are looking forward to it. Kyo: I guess, but that’s because they’re going to enjoy the food. From the side of people who will be cooking you only start preparing about a week before, no? Fujieda: So you will start feeling motivated a week before... Kyo: Nope. Fujieda: Shinya, do you think this analogy works? Shinya: After hearing it I think so.

“What are some food combinations that you find just wrong?” (*from other twitter reports the question had example like pineapple in sweet sour pork etc) Shinya: as long as there’s no foods I dislike anything is okay. Kyo: I don’t have any food like that, but but I hate when people mix different sports brands. Wearing adidas with Nike shoes and so on. When I see someone like that I want to tell them ‘could you not?’

“What expensive item have you bought recently?”

Shinya: I’ve already answered this earlier. A camera. The camera itself was 40k and lens was 20k yen. Kyo: What do you use the camera for? Shinya: For recording and so on. Kyo: What kind of [recording]? Shinya: For youtube or Haiiro. Kyo: Isn’t iPhone good enough for that? Kyo: When I’m taking a photo I just pass my iPhone and ask someone. Fujieda: I was given a camera for taking photos, but after about 15 minutes I was told to use iPhone in the end. Kyo: Do you know what was different? Fujieda: I didn’t. Kyo: (*going back to the main question) an expensive item... Nike and Garcons sneakers I guess. They were about 20k yen.　(*Pegasus?) I’m drinking coffee while looking at the sneakers.

“Do you prefer indoor or outdoor festivals?” Shinya: If it’s daytime then indoor. It would be too bright outdoor in daytime. Kyo: I hate insects so indoor. Weren’t there so many insects when you had plants? Fujieda: Speaking of insects, don't they get into your mouth when you ride a bike? Kyo: You ride a bike with an open mouth? Silly kid. Fujieda: Instead of having open mouth, it's like there's suddenly an insect in your mouth, when it crashes into you. Kyo: Riding a bike with an open mouth is silly. Why, are you singing? Fujieda: Sometimes I do, actually. Kyo: If you're singing while riding that's okay, if you just have your mouth open while riding that's silly.

"About SOGAI in May" Shinya: We're working on the setlist, it will be great. Kyo: That's why I don't want you to ask me about a concert in a month. Don't ask me questions about concerts next year. I won't answer.

"What's a good place in Hirakata?" Shinya: Hira pa (Hirakata Park) and TSUTAYA, right? TSUTAYA is where I was born. Fujiefa: Eh? Really? I didn't know. Kyo: if in Tokyo you say Hirapa no one will understand Kyo: Do you know? (looks at Shinya) when you just come in and there's a place with dogs Shinya: Like real dogs? Kyo: Yeah. There are about 20 dogs, but all are so tired. Lifeless as if they were abused. Of course they weren't abused, but it's a place where you can spend some time with dogs but they are so tired, so lifeless and tired that it's almost a shame they are kept there. (*I think he's talking about Doubutsu Hug Hug Town)

"What hotel facilities do you find exciting?" Shinya: ...for example? Fujieda: ehm... Kyo: This is not something exciting, but. You know in a shower? When you don't know if you're supposed to move the handle up or down? Maybe this way? And then when you move it the water suddenly comes out from above! (Shinya nods) Fujieda: That's criminal! Was it hot? Kyo: First water came out, but when I turned the handle the water suddenly poured from above, I got totally soaked. How do you use that? Shinya: there are some places where water comes out in 3 places instead of 2. Fujieda: Criminal! Fujieda: Anything exciting? Shinya: Like? Fujieda: Like a big tv. Shinya: I don't watch TV. Dujieda: That's true, you don't. How about a very good pillow? Shinya: I don't care. Kyo: And the shower [head]! Just from one hole the water goes in a strange direction, there's nothing stuck there, just water, but just this one spot. What's that about? (Shinya continued to nod while smiling)

"To Shinya. What time did you wake up today?" Shinya: Around 1. At night. Fujieda: What time did you go to bed? Shinya: I think about 10pm. Fujieda: You almost didn't sleep at all. Kyo: Aren't you an old man now! (*🤣🤣🤣🤣)

"What toothpaste and toothbrush are you using?" Kyo: Any toothpaste is okay, but I prefer small toothbruses. Because I have very complex teeth. Like a maze. You get lost there. That's why I choose a tothbrush with a small head, has good reach. Shinya: I'm using a toothpaste from overseas with an M, any brush is okay for me. But I use one with water coming out of it. Fujieda: Is it electric? Shinya: Yes. Fujieda: Is it painful? Shinya: Well sometimes it gets a bit bloody. Kyo: You're really into it (laughing) to keep using it even if you're bleeding.

Kyo is watching The world unknown to Matsuko every week (depends on the episode but it's interesting), when finishing the 2nd sessiin event Shinya said 'go straight home and from 8:57 watch The world unknown to Matsuko'. It already started and it seems [dir] appeared there.

"Where do you want to tour besides Tokyo-Nagoya-Osaka?" Shinya: Somewhere we still haven't been to... where was it? Takabayashi: ehm... Shimane, Wakayama, Saga. Shinya: There. Kyo: Kyoto. Kyoto is good. Kyoto is the best. Even now I'd love to [have an event] in Kyoto instead. Kyoto is the best or, I want to become Kyoto.

"What animals do you like in the zoo?" Kyo: ehm... sheep I guess. I want to look at them or hold them. Shinya: Animals you don't see in everyday life like giraffes, elephants or lions.

"What do you like in an amusement park?" Kyo: I guess the haunted house? Yeah, haunted house. It's okay when people try to scare me. It's not scary. I'm laughing all the time. Fujieda: So you can enjoy FujiQ no problem? Kyo: I haven't been, but I think it's fine? I would be fine bringing a sheep with me I guess? Going in while stroking the fluffy sheep. Shinya: Ferris Wheel. Fujieda: How about the thrilling ones? Shinya: I don't like them. Fujieda: So Ferris Wheels for Shinya, understood.

"About shooting Oboro PV" Shinya: It was tough. Kyo: You say that? Say that to ME?? Shinya: Well, you were shooting naked. The green stuff got all over my clothes and cleaning that took ages. Kyo: Ah, I guess. But you could've gotten it dry cleaned, no? Shinya: It was a fabric that cannot be dry cleaned. I couldn't remove it in the end so I gave it to Fujieda. Kyo: You did? You got it? Fujieda: Yeah, I passed it to the person who designed the costume. Kyo: I see... Shinya: And the floor was very cold. Kyo: You say that?!?!?! Fujieda: Were you okay, Kyo? Kyo: Yeah... I'm a pro in the end. Fujieda: Oh (claps) Kyo: Are you mocking me? Looking down on me? Fujieda: No! Not at all! I clapped because I think that's great! Kyo: No, you're defnitely looking down on me. It's the same as the 'whats your salary like?' 'this much' 'oh'.

tbc

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #shinya #爆音会 #talk event #namba hatch #translation

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 12: Changes •

A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

- David Bowie, Changes

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

"I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.

As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.

"Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"

"Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"

"You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.

"What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.

"I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."

Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.

He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.

"You still craving fries?"

"Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"

Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.

"Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"

"Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"

"Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"

Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.

"If," he continues. "you take me there."

"Take you there?"

"Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."

Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.

Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"

Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.

She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

"You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.

She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.

"Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"

"Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."

She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.

It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.

"I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"

"Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.

He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.

"Three plays for a dollar, huh?"

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.

"Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"

"And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"

Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.

"Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.

He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.

"No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"

And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.

Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.

The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.

Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.

The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.

At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.

"If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.

Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"

Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"

"Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"

Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.

She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.

"Stuck forever?"

Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.

"Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"

He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.

Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.

"You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."

Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.

"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"

Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.

"Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"

Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.

Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.

She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."

She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"

Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.

Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.

"No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"

"Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."

"You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"

"I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"

The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.

"No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."

"Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"

"Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.

In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.

The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.

"What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"

And thus began the best meal they ever had.

- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.

Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.

"Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.

Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."

The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.

"How's your leg?"

He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.

She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.

"I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.

Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.

"Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."

Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.

"Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"

She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.

"No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.

Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."

Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.

He missed the way things were.

He missed Y/n.

He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.

Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -

"I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."

He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?

Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.

"Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.

"I know, shrimp,"

Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.

"Y/n!"

He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.

"I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.

Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.

"Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"

His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -

Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"

A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.

His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.

It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.

"I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.

"You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.

"Yeah, can you go get me something?"

"Jesus! What do you need?"

"Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."

Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"

The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"

Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.

"I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?

Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.

"Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."

Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.

"Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"

Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.

"Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.

Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.

"Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.

"For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"

Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.

"A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"

Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"

"Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.

There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.

Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.

"So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.

To his relief, Y/n smiled.

"It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"

As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.

"He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.

"What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.

Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.

So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.

"Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."

"You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.

Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"

"How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.

"He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"

Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.

"No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"

Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.

Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...

"Thanks, Doctor K,"

He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."

A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.

"I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"

Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?

But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."

"Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.

"Really, it's okay,"

But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...

A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.

"I'll call you."

There was hope yet.

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debiteful · 3 years

Note

Are you still doin' writing requests? If so, could you write about a giant finding a borrower, with some unintentional fearplay on the giants part?

Content: apparent threat of harm, size difference (Giant/tiny), fearplay, hand held, crying, trapped under a bowl, ends on a positive note

Taking on a renovation by yourself was a monumental task. Thankfully the boundless strength of a giant made it much easier. Will spent weeks planning everything before he was finally ready to begin.

He started with the floors, tearing them up bit by bit. Beneath the boards there were scraps of fabric, bits of metal that seemed to have once been staples, and even an old cereal box. At first Will assumed whoever had built the place had been careless. As he progressed and found more trash, he began to see patterns. Strategic cuts in the cardboard here, nails running in a diagonal line without securing anything, and other such seemingly intelligent designs.

Though it was odd, it helped click some puzzle pieces together. Rustling in the panty, socks disappearing, and soft yet shrill noises in the night. Something tiny was living in his home. By the looks of it they were taking things for their own purposes too! Nothing important of course, or he might've noticed sooner.

Now he had more planning to do. After all, he was tearing apart their home too!

Skip berated herself for the hundredth time for sticking around after that bean began tearing the place apart. Safe hiding places were growing fewer by the hour it seemed. It was impossible to predict where it would go to next, meaning she had to move all the borrowed things hastily. Already she had left a lot behind, and, to make matters worse, it had been found. Thankfully the bean hadn't seemed to catch on.

On the bright side, the renovation left lots of building scraps. Most helpful was the chunks of insulating foam. They were easy to cut and carry, and they could be used to build all sorts of things.

Presently Skip was trying to move them into the shed across the back lawn. She'd never lived out there because the temperature fluctuated too much. With insulation it might be bearable, and it would certainly be safer than in that madbean's house!

Unfortunately, the main house was still the best place to get food. Skip would wait somewhere secure in the evening until she heard the bean go to bed, then sneak out to get what crumbs she could.

Tonight, a fallen cracker tempted her, but it was the crushed cereal on the counter that would be doable to bring home. She darted out from behind the toaster towards it, but she didn't get far.

Something caught her leg. As she fell, there was a grating sound. Then darkness. Something had landed atop her! A bowl? Probably.

Skip walked slowly with her arms out as feelers. Upon reaching the edge she tried to get her fingers under it and lift. That failed, of course.

She tried to fight back panic. Her shim and pry bar lay securely at home- this was supposed to be a quick in and out job! Essentially equipmentless, there were very few options.

She took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Mind a little clearer, she searched her memory for what direction she must be facing. Slowly she walked around the edge of the bowl to the side closest to the edge of the counter. At least, she hoped it was.

Pushing with all her might got her nowhere. Getting a running start for the shove did about the same. Soon, Skip was throwing herself at the bowl in desperation.

Battered and exhausted, she sunk to her knees. Body and tears fell to the countertop.

The rest of the night was spent filled with tension. Every sound was certainly the giant coming. Paranoid thoughts spiraled, centered around what the giant would do to her.

When at last Will did come, the sound was unmistakable to the trembling borrower. She had heard those thunderous steps a thousand times.

Skip envied the ease with which the giant lifted the bowl which confined her. Tilted up on one edge, it could now shove its gigantic hand beneath. She couldn't help but utter a little shriek as fingers as large as her groped around blindly. She didn't dare try to dart through the gap lest the bowl snap back down on a limb.

Dodging the fingers was difficult with no sleep or breakfast. The tip of one brushed her leg. The whole hand rushed her. A massive thumb pinned her to the pointer finger.

The bowl lifted slowly, so she had ample time to imagine the look on its face while she struggled. Her heart was racing wildly. Tears threatened to well up, but she had spent most of them through the night. Stinging eyes locked on to the enormous face.

The giant had quite the satisfied grin splitting its features. Its eyes flicked side to side as the giant took in its captive.

Likewise, Skip's eyes darted frantically. No sign of a weapon. Then again, with teeth and hands like these, it wouldn't need a weapon. Gracious it was absolutely gigantic up close, larger than she had ever thought.

The thunderous voice she had heard dozens of times was deafening at such a close range.

"Hello there," Will said in awe. The borrower was silent and flinched. He frowned and spoke more softly, "Who are you?"

Even at a dull roar the sound was too much. Skip growled like an animal and bit at his knuckles. He inhaled sharply and adjusted the hold to pin her head. It wouldn't take much for those fingers to crush it.

Will put her in the jar he had for this purpose. Being moved through the air was a disorienting and unpleasant experience. If she was lucky, she would be too dizzy to see whatever killed her coming. Skip was genuinely surprised when she landed on something soft in the bottom of the glass.

Left on the counter, she didn't dare take her eyes off of her captor. He bustled around the kitchen humming softly. She was familiar with this habit of his- the sound echoed through the walls in the evening. For the first time she heard the lyrics of his little ditty, "Gonna cook you up, gotta cook you right up! First I gotta chop you up, then plop you in the pot to cook you up!"

Hearing the giant narrate his process sent a dreadful chill through her. He was going to cook and eat her!!

More vigilant than ever, her gaze never left him. Eyes locked onto the shining blade of a knife pulled from the block. Watching the vegetables get chopped up brought to mind terrible images. The ease with which the bean could toss a heap of food into the pot brought to mind just how small she was.

Finally, the tears spilled out. Where they had been held in reserve, she had no idea. Frantic little hands rubbed one eye at a time. Delicate fingers brushed away tears without obstructing her view too much.

By the time the food was filling the air with its aroma, she still hadn't stopped crying. She watched through bleary eyes as he filled a ladle with the sauteed vegetables and brought it over. So she wasn't to be cooked: he was going to heap scalding food onto her!

Skip scrambled to one side of the jar and slid her back up the wall. That one scoop wouldn't be enough to bury her here.

Her warped upturned face looked back down at her as the ladle lowered. The giant stuck it right into the jar, then let go. What was its angle?

Tearing her gaze from his intent face, she eyed the handle of the ladle. Yes, it should be doable. Three bounding steps took her to the ladle. Using her momentum she vaulted over the bowl of it and grasped the flat handle. Like she had done hundreds of times before, she shot up the metal beam.

Just as she reached level with the lip of the jar, the giant reacted. He shouted, a deafening thunderclap. Those enormous fingers engulfed her momentarily, then they knocked her back into the jar. Now one hand lay over the mouth of her prison, effectively sealing it.

Will crouched, bringing the jar to eye level. He spoke gently, "Hey, aren't you hungry? I don't know how long exactly you were stuck on the counter." When she didn't respond he pressed on, "I promise it's good. I didn't know if you ate meat, but I figured veggies would be a safe choice. Hope it's okay that it's cooked- do you cook? Oh nevermind, it doesn't matter. Hey- can you understand me?" As his eyes scanned for any response, he finally noticed the red eyes and wet cheeks, "Oh no, have you been crying? Why? I didn't hurt you did I? Oh- I might've scared you… I'm really sorry little one."

Skip listened to his continuous ramble. It almost sounded good natured… Could she have been mistaken? A small bubble of rage rose up and erupted, "Wouldn't you be terrified if some gigantic brute trapped you and started singing about cooking?!"

Will frowned in dismay, "I didn't think about it like that."

"Beans never think," she screeched, "They just kill."

The frown deepened then flashed to a smirk, "Bean? Is that what you call us? Why?"

Skip rolled her eyes. What a dumb question! ….why did they call them beans? That didn't matter right now.

She walked over to the ladle and picked up a spear of carrot. One eye still on the giant, she took a bite of the tender veggie.

He gave a big grin, "Is it good?"

She nodded, honestly a little surprised. "So, why did you catch me? Why feed me too?"

"Well, as you've probably noticed, I'm doing a little work on the house. I found some of your stuff and I worried I might accidentally hurt you. Considering you've never introduced yourself, I figured just asking you to come out wouldn't work. I wanna help you move somewhere safer- whether it's temporary or not is up to you."

"My name's Skip," she piped up.

"Oh, mine is Will," he said with another big smile. His teeth were hardly threatening now.

She smiled back. "Oh! Actually I was already in the process of moving most of my stuff."

"Really? Where?"

There was a moment of hesitation; her distrust of beans ran deep. "Your shed, outside."

"All the way out there?" His eyes widened.

With a barked laugh, she nodded, "Yeah its pretty far. Not ideal, but I haven't a clue where you're going to strike next."

The harsh choice of words made Will frown a little. He recovered quickly though, "Well now you have the inside scoop! The entire upstairs is going to be left alone. There's also the kitchen. I- well, I still don't know what sort of places you like to live, but I'm sure there's some somewhere around here.

Skip considered her options. The upstairs was rather far away, but it was a big area so safer. The kitchen was prime territory for food and other bits n bobs, but the giant would frequent it. He seemed nice enough, but one encounter couldn't undo a lifetime of learning.

"Up the stairs should do nicely," she trailed off, already scheming on how to move all her stuff.

"Alright! Sounds good. So, is there anything I could help you move?"

The response was an absent nod before she realized what he asked. What was his angle? "Oh! Um, I guess."

They discussed what exactly needed to be moved and where. Though she was on her guard, Skip didn't notice anything untoward. The move went just as smoothly. Soon she was settled into a secluded gap beneath the floor, where she had moved all her stuff herself after he brought it to a nearby location.

By the end of it, Will was very pleased with himself. He had begun to make a new friend. What's more, she was his neighbour! He felt more at ease knowing she would be safely out of the way of the renovation.

#fearplay #giant/tiny #g/t #giant #tiny #borrower #tldr:#Skip 'what is he thinking'#Will 'No thoughts head empty'

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ricksroaches · 3 years

Text

Jungkook - Dysphoria ch. 1

pairing: Yoongi x Reader, OT7 x Reader (platonic)

summary: Jungkook, a burnt out gifted student, comes home from summer camp not ready to start his sophomore year of highschool, but his friends are there to help him feel better. Although not in the best of ways.

notes: This is a Euphoria-ish au but mostly it's just heavily inspired by the show (I use a few quotes), and each chapter is based on a character. There's a few parts where I cue a song title that's because I made a soundtrack to listen to while reading but I deleted it a while ago so :( if you feel like it listen to the ones I did write down. I'm apologizing now bc my writing can be a bit choppy/rushed its just cuz i have a more drabble-like style and don't know how to write between big scenes. THIS IS A DARK FIC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Hope you enjoy and sorry for this big ass paragraph.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: ass-load of angst, mental illness (depression, anxiety, bipolar, OCD, and probably more), drugs (all of them. just all of them), underage drinking, cursing, mentions of self-harm

Next chapter

[Slideshow - Labrinth]

When Jungkook was 5, he wanted to be an astronaut. He wanted to fly into the sky and zip around space exploring things never before seen. His little mind was so strong, wanting to learn anything and everything. When he first learned how to read, he would read every sign he passed in the car and play games with the letters he’d find. It wasn’t long before he was placed in advanced classes with kids he'd never seen before and for the first time in his academic career, he was challenged.

When Jungkook was 10, he wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to wear a white coat and glasses and race around a hospital busy saving lives everyday. He wanted people to look to him for advice and treat him with respect. He wanted to feel needed.

When Jungkook was 14, he wanted to be a paramedic. He didn’t think he’d be smart enough to become a doctor so an EMT would have to do. His classes had begun to pile up in work to the point where he didn’t have the time to think about anything but school. He ate, slept, and breathed homework, projects, and term papers.

When Jungkook was 16, all he wanted to do was graduate. He no longer had any desire to pursue his childhood dreams. When he was asked what he wanted to do when he was older, his mind was a void. He couldn’t see any future for himself past high school. He went day to day not bothering to care about what might happen the next day. He coasted through all of his classes and dropped out of the advanced programs that his parents put him in.

His potential was like a flame. It was small at first, but still had loads of potential, so more kindling was thrown on top. The flame received it well, quickly spreading over the new material. But they kept stacking kindling. Stacking and stacking and stacking putting more and more pressure until finally….the flame died. All because he liked to read.

[Forever - Labrinth]

The clouds inched across the sky and rows of crops and fencing whipped by the car window. A stark contrast between the two. Jungkook rested his head against the glass and watched as the car began to pass more and more houses. The familiar area told him he was almost home. He should’ve been glad, elated even. He would finally get to see his friends again, but after three weeks of summer school to catch up on the class he skipped last year he’d lost the ability to smile or show any form of positivity. To say he felt like a zombie would be an insulting understatement.

The car pulled into the ever so familiar driveway and the rest of his family piled out of the car. He didn’t move. He heaved a long, anguished sigh before snatching his duffel bag from the other seat and throwing open the door.

He was out the front door again before his mom could even ask him where he was going. Speeding his bike down the empty road that he’d ridden countless times before. He could make this route with his eyes closed. The house in question came into view and Jungkook pedaled harder to close the distance. He swung one leg to the opposite pedal and straddled it until he swerved to a stop in the driveway. The house was old, hadn’t been lived in for years, wasn’t on the market, yet wasn’t scheduled to be torn down. It was the perfect place for a group of teenagers to tear apart and put back together. Without knocking, he stepped inside and was hit with the welcoming scent of booze, pizza, and weed with notes of cigarettes and coffee. Music blasting from a distant room in the house led him to the living room where he counted one, two, three, four, five people sprawled about the room. Upon noticing him standing in the doorway, they jumped up and raced to pull him into the room.

“Kook! How you been man? How’d surviving summer school go?” Taehyung was Jungkook’s best friend and unsolicited wingman. He was always trying to set him up with girls so he could get his v card punched. Taehyung was ever the ladies man. Never had trouble finding a date or a hookup. No one could blame him though. If they had that flawless, arrogant face they’d use it too. Despite his fuckboy nature, he was the best friend Jungkook ever had. They’d gone to the same school since they were 7 and Taehyung’s untamable charisma sniffed out Jungkook’s shyness rather quickly. They were inseparable and the rest is history.

“Fine I guess.”

“Kookie, come sit down! I’ve been saving your spot on the couch for you!” Jimin pulled Jungkook to the left corner of the C shaped couch. Jimin was like Taehyung in the sense that he also had no issues with finding partners. He wasn’t near as promiscuous as Taehyung, but he made up for it with his bisexuality. He had an entire other gender to choose from. Jimin was probably the nicest of the group. He always gave the best hugs and was their personal therapist. His aura seemed to coax you into opening up to him even if you hadn’t originally planned on it. He had a way of saying all the right words to make you feel better, even if it was just for a moment. On the other side of him, he was the biggest party animal the group had ever seen. Anywhere else, he was the purest angel that everyone believed could do no wrong. But at a party? Park Jimin was a demon. Seductively dancing in a stylish jacket, pants low enough to show his v-line, sweaty hair flipped back pounding shot after shot until he was the last man standing. That guy could party from sun down to sun up like it was a baby shower.

“Did you at least learn anything you missed last year?” Namjoon. Ever the parent. He was surprisingly humble given his father’s status and money. He easily had the best grades among the friends. School always came easy to him, no matter what it was. However, if you saw him outside of school, you’d never be able to guess he was one of the school’s top students. He carried an energy with him that dared anyone to mess with him or his friends. Although you didn’t see it often, he could make himself scary if he wanted to. All in all, he’s just a gentle giant that made sure everyone turned in their work.

“Absolutely nothing. I don’t know why they keep wasting their time on me.” Jungkook sighed. Hoseok threw a pillow from across the couch, smacking him in the face.

“Yah! Don’t talk about yourself like that!” Hoseok was the human charger. It didn’t matter if someone’s mama died if Hoseok was in the room there would be shenanigans. He was always the one to make some crazy dare that would end up getting them in trouble but they wouldn’t be mad because it was totally worth it. He also had great music taste and almost always was on aux. Hoseok’s vice was coke. Often the driving force behind his hyper nature, it started out as just a thing he did at parties, but slowly creeped into his everyday habits. It hadn’t become a problem yet, he vowed that as soon as he started getting nosebleeds he’d stop, although Jungkook was wary of how difficult that was going to be.

“Where’s Y/N and Yoongi?” Jungkook asked after noticing their usual spots empty.

“They left to get food. They should be coming back soon.” Jin assured him, giving him a comical slap on the thigh. Jin was the eldest, but rarely acted like it. Whenever he wasn’t making stupid dad jokes or eating he spent his time at the classical theater where he worked and sometimes acted. He planned on pursuing acting given his “world wide handsome face.” “It just has to be seen! People around the world need to swoon at my beauty” as he would put it.

No one heard the front door open and shut or noticed Y/N and Yoongi standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Food’s here.” Yoongi finally croaked. Hoseok and Jin yelped and sprung up.

“JESUS! Ever heard of announcing yourselves?! I swear you guys are the exact same person!” Y/N just gave a shrug and plopped onto the large bean bag that she’d claimed.

“Hey, Kooker.” She dragged out.

“Hi Y/N..” His unusual bland reply didn’t go unnoticed by her, but she brushed it off.

“You ready to get shit faced?” A playful grin plastered her otherwise tranquil face. A small smile poked at Jungkooks pursed lips. There was something about her character that always put him in a better mood. She was the one who invited him and Tae into the friend group in the first place, and because of that, he couldn’t be more grateful.

Yoongi tossed him a beer can and his car keys. “Start us off Jungkook.” Yoongi was by far the most terrifying one. It took some time to get to know his true person but there were still times when he still scared the shit out of him. Jungkook remembered when he first met Yoongi. He looked like he’d served time with the seasoned look in his eye that said he’d seen some shit in his day. He hadn’t spoken the entire time the group was talking and Jungkook was beginning to worry that he didn’t like him. It wasn’t til he finally spoke that Jungkook could release the breath he was holding. For someone so stoic and cold looking, he never expected him to have such a low, soft voice. He realized, Yoongi wasn’t scary, he was just quiet like him.

Jungkook took the keys and poked a hole in the bottom of the can. He pressed his lips to it and pulled the tab, sending the amber liquor shooting down his throat. He finished it with ease and crushed the can in his palm while the room cheered and chanted.

The loud music, laughing, and drugs drowned out everything in the outside world. It felt like the world ended and they were the last people left on Earth. Nothing mattered but what was right in front of them. The hours flew by until it came time for everyone to crash. Most of them were still raging drunk or high which only made them fall asleep faster. Jungkook didn’t drink much and he barely smoked. He just couldn’t get in the right headspace to enjoy any of it. So there he was, laying awake among a pile of snoring boys at some ungodly hour of the night. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out to read the text in his notifications.

[We All Knew - Labrinth]

Y/N💜: come to my office

He shimmied out from under Taehyung and Jimin and tiptoed out of the room. He followed the smell of weed through the house because where there was weed, there was Y/N. He stepped into the backyard and found her leaning against the wall, blunt between her fingers. The tip of the dark stick swelled into a bright orange when she took a drag. Smoke rolling out of her nose, she held it out for him. He hesitated.

“You're upset. Take it.” Which was a dead-on observation for Y/N, who’s not normally revolving in the same direction as planet Earth. He hesitantly took a puff from it before handing it back. She spread her arms lazily and looked at him with a beckoning stare. He sighed and walked right into her arms that wrapped around his back. She was only older than him by a year, but her old soul and almost motherly demeanor made him look up to her like she was his idol. Sometimes, he forgot he was a whole head taller than her. “Welcome home, Kookie.”

Hers was the only welcome he got that day that brought a genuine smile to his face. She had a way of making him feel welcome and wanted even if she was in a bad mood. She broke the embrace and without a word headed to the old couch by the empty swimming pool. He eventually followed her and flopped down next to her. Another gush of smoke entered the chilly air and it was handed back to him. Feeling better, he took a healthy drag and sighed out the smoke as he sunk further into the couch.

“Was it that obvious?”

“Was what obvious?”

“Me being upset.”

“Not really.” She flicked the ash off the tip of the brown stick, her gaze not breaking from its spacey stare.

“Then how’d you know?”

“Pain recognizes pain.” Y/N wasn’t one for her genius epiphanies, given that nine times out of ten on any given day she was stoned out of her mind. She wasn’t dumb, god no. He wouldn’t doubt that she was smarter than him, but she rarely exercised her ability. As great of a gift that her mind was, it was an even worse curse. An inescapable tomb of her worst fears, thoughts, and intentions, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. So naturally, she tried anything and everything to silence her mind; alcohol, weed, acid, coke, molly, you name it, she’s done it.

Jungkook wasn’t angry or disappointed by the lengths she went. He knew she was just trying to feel better, and to him, that’s all that mattered. He’d take high Y/N over no Y/N at all.

“Y/N?”

“Yep.” There was a silence while he worked up the nerve to speak.

“How…uh….how long have you felt…the way you feel?” She chuckled and let her head fall back against the couch.

“Well I smoked a blunt with Yoongi in the car this morning and then-”

“No, I mean like…w-without drugs.” Her lazy smile didn’t change, but her eyes unfocused and she grew quiet as if lost in a flashback.

“How long do you think I’ve felt this way?” He didn’t anticipate this question.

“Uh…I don’t know…you hide it really well.”

“I couldn’t tell you when it started. I don’t remember much before 7. I’m told I was a happy kid, but it didn’t feel like it at all. All my life I’ve looked around and seen that everyone was so much happier than me, and I’d ask myself, ‘Why can’t I feel like that?’ It wasn’t until I was older that I learned…I was born to suffer. That’s just my place in the world.”

“When did you finally tell anyone?”

“I didn’t. My parents found my razors.” Jungkook always thought he saw scars on her arms and legs, but her milky skin made it hard to tell. It hurt his heart to know that it was true, and that every one of those once caused her pain. The image of her forearms and thighs slick with her blood brewed tears in his eyes.

“They determined they didn’t have the knowledge to help me, so they asked me to take a tour of this mental hospital and think about their suggestion….” She paused to keep her voice from cracking. “I didn’t make it home that day. Never really forgave them after that.”

There was a long silence after that. Jungkook didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Besides, he knew she hated condolences. “What made you start using drugs?” She took a drag of the blunt and thought about it.

“I was 13.” Really? “I found my brothers stash of weed in one of his shoes. I already knew what weed was and what it was used for, so I took about a gram and a rolling paper and taught myself how to roll a joint on my bathroom floor. I was shaking like a dog shitting peach seeds but when that joint hit, I thought…” She tilted her head to peak at him with an epiphanic smile, “This is it…This is the feeling that I’ve been waiting to feel my entire life. I thought I was sure to get caught and sent to juvie, but I wasn’t. The world went on, and I found a way to live. Now could my lifestyle kill me? Will it kill me? Yeah probably I don’t know, but at least I could’ve had a few years where I wasn’t begging the universe to put me out of my misery.” She paused to take another hit. “People often ask me, ‘Y/N why don’t you try therapy? Drugs aren’t the answer.’ Yeah well, drugs work. Therapy’s a guessing game; you never know if it’s gonna actually help or not and end up wasting your time and money. But when I take that hit, that line, that tab, the world starts to slow…and everything goes quiet…and I feel safe. In my own head. And I can see the world in color again.”

Jungkook watched her blissful face while she was lost in thought. She must’ve been pretty high because this is the most personal she’d ever gotten with him or possibly anyone that wasn’t Yoongi. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“W-what if I don’t feel what everyone else feels either..?” He pinched the skin between his fingers to keep his tears at bay, a nervous habit he’d picked up from her. She reached over and took his hand in hers, the webbing between her fingers had white and pink stripes from years of fingernails digging into the flesh.

“Jungkook,” she didn’t use his nickname, “I know how hard it was for you to say that. I want you to know how much I appreciate you telling me, because if anyone knows how you feel, it’s me. You can talk to me whenever, wherever. Even when you think it’s a bad time it’s not, because nothing in that moment is more important to me than you. I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did, so please, even if you don’t want to talk, maybe I can at least keep you company.”

For the rest of the night, Jungkook told her everything. About the pressure, the stress, the desire to collapse and let the world go on without him, his inability to see a future where he was fulfilled. The words often caught in his throat, having never said them out loud before. Y/N didn’t say much, she just wrapped them in a blanket and stroked his hair while she just let him talk. Sometimes, he’d have to stop to cry and she’d hold him a little tighter, wipe his tears away with her thumbs, and wait til he was ready again.

Eventually, he had nothing else to say, his tears dried, and his body stilled.

Babies didn’t sleep that good.

Y/N nodded off a little later but was woken up by a raccoon tipping a trash can. She rested her cheek on his head and tried to go back to sleep, but it never came. She just continued to rest her eyes while playing with Jungkook’s hair and tracing lines along his features.

She didn’t know how long she laid there but soon the birds began their routine morning songs and she was sure she wouldn’t get back to sleep now. The faint tap of shoes on the concrete perked her ears, but she kept her eyes closed. The footsteps stopped behind the couch where she sat. It was quiet before the person chuckled quietly. A warm hand smoothed back the hair in her face and a little kiss was planted on her forehead. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

“Yoongi, I’m awake you creep.” She cracked her eyes open to see her boyfriend laid over the back of the couch hovering above her, his dark hair tickling her nose. He smirked.

“Well in that case,” he grabbed her chin and tilted her head up before capturing her lips in a playful kiss. When they parted, he glanced down at Jungkooks still sleeping figure. “You guys stay out here all night?”

“Yeah,” she looked down at him and smoothed his hair back, “he just had a few things to get off his chest.” Yoongi almost asked what it was about but her face gave him an idea.

“It’s cold, you want me to take him inside?”

“It won’t wake him up will it?”

“If he’s as out as as he looks, he won’t.” She nodded and Yoongi circled around and slipped his hands under the sleeping boy’s body. Much to Y/N’s pleasant surprise, he lifted him bridal style with ease and she followed him into the house where he placed him next to the other slumbering boys.

When he straightened back up he saw her in the sliding glass door, gazing at the now dusty blue sky. She could feel his body heat on her back against the nippy outside air.

“I always loved the time just before dawn.”

“Why is that?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek to hers.

“It’s so calm and peaceful. And incredibly quiet besides the birds. It’s the only time I feel truly left alone.”

“You want me to show you my favorite time of day?” She turned to him with a curious look. “Follow me.” Not long after, the two were perched on the flat portion of the roof with Yoongi’s bong sitting between them. His angular fingers effortlessly packed the bowl and held it out to her. “All yours.” She took it with a smile.

“What a gentleman~”

Soon, the sky went from a pale blue to pastel shades of orange and pink. He looked over to see her fiddling with a thread on his hoodie she was wearing. “This,” he took her jaw and guided her eyes up for her to see the sunrise, “is my favorite time of day.”

“Why?”

“It gives me hope. Kinda like you.” He was glad she didn’t say anything. She was lost in the color palette of the scene before her, the weed making everything so much more vibrant and striking. He could see the sky reflected in her eyes, making the view ten times better. More time went by and she rested her head on his broad shoulder while they watched the rest of the sunrise.

Back on the ground, Yoongi cleared the bowl and poured out the bong water before setting it on a table by the couch. Y/N was on her back in the center of the empty pool, slowly tearing a leaf above her face and analyzing how it separated cell by cell. He stood on the edge above and watched her do this another four times much to his amusement. “You wanna get breakfast?”

She was out of the pool and in his face before he could finish his sentence. “Like you have to ask.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes before turning and walking to his car. “Hey, Yoongi.”

He turned back.

“Carry me to the car like Jungkook.” He broke into a smirk and walked back to her.

“Yes ma’am.” She let out a yelp when he scooped her off her feet and marched the two of them to his car waiting on the street.

Cover photo: @BIGHITTED on Twitter

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #fanfic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #ot7 x reader #bts fic #yoongi fic #bts angst

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lovelyjasmari · 2 years

Text

Twisted Wonderland Reaction Part 8 ~ #RIPDeucey Edition

First, I want to say, despite the salt exhibited at the end of this, I actually am really enjoying this event. Lots of material for laughs and Cater is as iconic as ever. And since the Rook card isn’t included this time, I can save even more gems for Vil’s birthday. Even more of a win!

Warning: Pic heavy, some swearing, bad jokes, yelling at Cater, farmer on monster violence and personal salt about the progression of EN. Also a question for JP readers/players at the end.

I’ll do my best! Anything to make you happy, Jade!

Now Jade, where were you hiding that cake all this time??

And Yuulan continues to have jokes...

Uh...Sir, these kids’ moral fiber is sus enough as it is, please don’t encourage them!

IS FOOD ALL YOU THINK ABOUT?!

And of course Deuce didn’t notice us hiding. Poor dumbass...

Welp, see you at the crossroads, Deuce...

You may be on the farmer team, but you are a monster. Do you realize that?? DO YOU?!

Disney wouldn’t allow you to say fuck, would they?

SHUT UP STOP REMINDING US BENEDICT DIAMOND!!

Of course Malleus needs no assistance, being an all powerful dragon fae prince and all! Can’t help but wonder how he’d rock the beans camo tho...

Did ya’ll hear that? It was the sound of these monster bastards signing their death warrants!

Those fangs...

Malleus is having none of your shit, Benedict Diamond...

Wait a minute, the first chapter of this stated that Beans Day is in February. Does MC still not know who Malleus is at this point? Isn’t there a Halloween event where they interact as well? So when does MC find out Tsunataro’s identity? Does it happen in chapter 4 maybe? Actually, no. NO ONE answer this. I MEAN IT! I want to be surprised.

If it isn’t Rook’s Beans Day card I don’t wanna hear it, Idia.

You’re guess is as good as mine. Poor Yuulan better go find Malleus for protection before Cater get’s both their asses caught!

Do you feel lucky? WELL?! DO YA MONSTERS?!

Okay! Okay, this right here? This really pisses me off. Like SERIOUSLY pisses me off and let me explain why.

I’m really enjoying this event, but I honestly didn’t think we’d get another event so soon after the cooking one, especially something reasonably big as Beans Day. BUT I didn’t realize that we’d be getting the story bits in parts like with the main story. Was this a thing in JP as well? Even if it was, I really feel like if they were going to do this they might as well begin dropping chapter 4.

At this point, ‘s safe to say that we will not be getting any of chapter 4 before this month is over, especially if this event is going to be 2 weeks long. So my idea that they would begin dropping chapter 5 in time for Vil’s birthday seems unlikely to happen too. I can live with that BUT I read a rumor over twitter that we MIGHT be getting Lyre-less Brawl in April as well! Which means I now have to save for SR Rook AND Vil’s birthday card and no matter what I go for, I will have noting left for when the Pomefiore SSR’s get a rate up when their chapter drops.

Meanwhile JP is getting the last of chapter 6 very soon, like sometime this week and if they release info for chapter 7, it will be over for me, with my Malleus-simping ass.

As much as I’m enjoying Beans Day, I’m a little wary of all these events so soon with little breathing room in between. I’ve been pretty lucky so far being able to get most of the cards I want in 5 pulls or less with some doubles but my luck can’t last for long. Plus I can’t expect to avoid spoilers for too long too.

With all that in mind, I’ve decided that, if there is no main story update by Easter Monday, I will cease being EN-only and begin reading chapter 4 and 5 on youtube. Can anyone suggest a good channel where I can find translations? I’d greatly appreciate it. <3

#twisted wonderland #jas reads twst #long post

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fickleminder · 3 years

Text

the years start coming and they don’t stop coming

In which Lilith’s return distorts her brothers’ perception of time.

Part 2 here

You’ve never seen the demon prince look so embarrassed.

“I can call for —”

“No, it’s okay. They deserve this.”

But you don’t, goes unspoken. You can see the pity in his eyes, feel the palpable disappointment in the air. Even Simeon and Luke make sure to hug you extra tight before stepping through the portal to the Celestial Realm, and Solomon promises to check up on you after you’ve returned home.

Thanking Lord Diavolo and Barbatos for their hospitality, you turn towards the final demon in the council room and put on the biggest grin your breaking heart can muster. “Hey, c’mere.”

Satan doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you. It’s almost like he’s trying to make up for his brothers’ absence, the way he crushes you to his chest and cradles the back of your head.

You can’t find it in yourself to blame them. As far as miracles go, this is a pretty big one. Lilith coming back to life is an unprecedented event, one not even Barbatos had seen coming. Nobody has any answers either. She’s definitely not a demon, not an angel, not human; just an immortal who knocked on the front door of the House of Lamentation three days ago.

Her brothers haven’t left her alone since. You’re happy for them, you really are, but a bitter part of you can’t help but wish her return had waited until after the exchange program ended. At least Lucifer had the courtesy to pull you aside and thank you on his family’s behalf (though you’re quite certain you had nothing to do with your ancestor’s sudden revival), in addition to making a pact with you as a token of his gratitude.

With that, you could have summoned all of them to send you off just as effectively as Lord Diavolo giving the order, but it won’t be the same and you know it. Your only saving grace is Satan, the one brother who’d kept his head and anchored you in the sea of loneliness you’d been set adrift in over the last few days.

“I’m gonna miss you, cat boy.”

“I miss you already,” Satan laughs softly, pulling back with a warm smile. “I’ll stay in touch, I promise.”

You squeeze his arms affectionately and glance past his shoulders at the closed doors. There’s the smallest shred of hope in you that thinks the others will come bursting through any moment now, scrambling for one final chance to see you. You give yourself five seconds, silently counting down to a pipe dream, before pressing a kiss to Satan’s cheek and releasing him.

“It might not seem like it now, but the Devildom will always be here for you,” Lord Diavolo says as the world around you fades to white. “Farewell.”

“Did you lose track of time at the library again? You missed dinner last night LOL.”

“Levi, be nice!”

Satan only hums quietly in response. He can’t be bothered to correct the assumption; it’s a convenient excuse for when his brothers actually notice he’s missing anyway.

The irony of Levi calling him out isn’t lost on him. While the otaku is still obsessed with his games and shows, he’s no longer as shut-in as he used to be, venturing outside the comforts of his sanctuary more often. Satan has passed by the common room on many occasions to find him and Lilith gaming or binging anime together, and the content expression on Levi’s face proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the void from his Henry’s departure has long been filled.

“Oh, but speaking of,” Lilith sets her cutlery down and smiles shyly at the fourth-born, “I haven’t had the chance to explore the libraries here yet. If it’s not too much trouble, can you show me around and recommend a few books?”

Shrugging non-committedly, Satan continues with his meal, not once looking her in the eye.

You’ve always wondered how someone with the Avatar of Lust for a brother can have such terrible fashion sense. It should be impossible to go wrong with dressing for a funeral, but you guess life (along with a certain eyesore of a tie) just loves to disappoint you. Still, you’re too glad to have Satan with you right now to care.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime.”

You lean into the demon’s side as he holds an umbrella over both of you. Your eyes are drawn to the flowers he’d placed on your mother’s grave, the only splash of color against the dull tombstone. For the longest time, all you can process is the pitter-patter of the afternoon rain on the plastic wrap of the bouquet, and the comforting weight of Satan’s arm across your shoulders.

“She was in a lot of pain,” you admit after a while, your voice slightly hoarse. “The doctors had to sedate her. She went in her sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” Satan fidgets awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. He’s no stranger to death, but the loss of someone dear is unfamiliar to him. “Perhaps Simeon can find out if —”

“No, no it’s fine. I just — I need to —”

The umbrella is forgotten as Satan catches you, lowering you gently to the ground when your knees give way. You cling to him desperately, and it’s all he can do to draw you close as you start to wail.

Satan barely makes it three steps into the house before getting pounced on.

“How was it? Where did you go? Ooh you lucky demon, I want to hear all the details!”

“Oi, oi! What are you babbling on about?”

“Don’t act coy with me! Lilith saw you at the florist’s yesterday with the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers!”

“Yesterday? But —”

“How come you never told me someone caught your eye? I would have dolled you up, lent you some of my clothes —” Asmo gasps dramatically. “You didn’t wear that horrid jacket to your date, did you?”

Wrestling a hand free, Satan musses his younger brother’s hair. “None of your business,” he growls, walking away with a smirk when Asmo immediately releases him to fix his appearance. “Who do you take me for, anyway?”

“Aww come on, just give me a hint! Do I know them? Is it someone from RAD? Ooh, did you meet them at the library or —”

Ducking into the safety of his room, Satan shuts the door in Asmo’s face.

“Thank fuck. Who picked your outfit this time?”

“Barbatos. And shut up.”

You grab Satan’s arm with a laugh and lead him towards your table, politely introducing him as ‘Stan from work’ to any relatives who ask about the handsome young man accompanying you. Satan’s usual mask is in place, but there’s no mistaking the gleam of wonder in his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

“Finally,” you sigh, sinking into your seat and grinning sheepishly at the blond. “Sorry about them. It’s just that they’ve never seen me with anyone, so they’re really curious about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you invited me along. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” The romantic in Satan is openly basking in the ambience of the reception. “You mentioned that your niece had gotten married?”

“Technically my first cousin once removed, but yeah.”

“And you’ve not been seeing anyone?”

“You would have been the first to know if I have,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “Apparently a lot of people are put off by the way I dress. Too modest, they say.”

But not without good reason. The pact marks on your body may be slightly faded from disuse, but they’re still discernable if stared at hard enough: Lucifer’s at the back of your neck; Mammon’s over your heart; Levi’s curled around your right calf; Satan’s circling your left arm; Asmo’s dangerously close to tramp stamp territory; Beel’s just under your navel; and Belphie’s on your ribs at the side you like to sleep on.

Passing them off as tattoos without attracting the wrong kind of attention is a little tricky, so you’d rather take a page from Solomon’s book and cover them up. Being called a prude is easier than dealing with cultists.

(It also helps you to keep your mind off of them, because some wounds continue to hurt even after they heal, so there’s that.)

Sensing the drop in your mood, Satan clears his throat to get your attention. It’s only then that you realize there’s music playing in the background, and couples moving from their tables to the floor.

Your companion stands up and offers you his hand, this time with a genuine smile on his face. “May I have this dance?”

Lucifer’s tone books no room for argument. “This will be a family event, so I expect your attendance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little escapades over the past few months.”

“Tch.”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Whatever. I’ll be there.”

Satan has to resist the urge to hurl his hardcover at the back of Lucifer’s head when he takes his leave. That’s no way to treat a book, after all.

Beel’s Fangol team has an upcoming match and it’ll be Lilith’s first time watching him play. She’s been hyped up for weeks, so it comes as no surprise that Lucifer would use the opportunity to turn it into a family outing. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Gone is the stuffy first-born who can spend days in his office if left unchecked. Lucifer is still as strict as ever, still fulfills his duties to Lord Diavolo diligently, but it’s like he’s managed to master balancing work and play overnight. He makes more time for his siblings now, even if it’s to dole out punishments for their endless shenanigans, punishments that vary in severity depending on how cutely Lilith pleads on their behalf.

Lucifer has always doted on her, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. Belphie has even gone as far as corrupting her into pranking him, and she need only bat her eyelashes to get off scot-free.

Lilith was the catalyst for the Fall, her descendent the glue that brought her siblings back together, and her return the final piece in making their family whole again.

But you were family too, Satan thinks sourly, pulling out his D.D.D. to mark the date in his calendar.

When you invite Satan over to your apartment for tea, he never expected to be introduced to your new housemate: a handsome fellow with chestnut brown hair, sharp jade eyes, a runner’s body, and the softest-looking toe beans he has ever seen in his immortal life.

“Satan, meet Satan!” You hold out the tabby towards him with a shit-eating grin.

Both demon and cat blink owlishly at each other. The blond doesn’t know whether to feel endeared by the feline sharing his name or insulted that you would replace him so easily, but all it takes is a single bop on the nose with a curious paw for him to melt.

Satan the tabby, who normally prefers to scale your shelves and nap between your books, spends the entire day a purring puddle in Satan the demon’s arms, shamelessly relishing in pets and massages to the extent that at some point, you have a very real fear they might just end up absconding back to the Devildom together. Thankfully, some kibble and freshly baked treats help you separate the two for a while, at least long enough for you to get some decent conversation in.

You brew a pot of Earl Grey with the beautifully crafted tea set Barbatos gifted you when you had first moved in, and serve the scones you made earlier in the morning using the baking tools blessed by Luke during your housewarming. You don’t know if the little angel had actually imbued them with Celestial magic, but everything you cook somehow always lifts your spirits when consumed.

Satan has to catch himself in the middle of regaling you with Mammon’s latest half-baked scheme. The wistful look on your face is new; you’re usually eager to hear what his brothers have been up to, but something feels off today. He pours you more tea, slides another scone onto your plate, and waits.

“…Are they happy?” You ask after a while.

The demon knows better than to lie, even if it’s to spare you from the truth he suspects you’re already aware of. “Yes,” he admits grudgingly.

“I’m glad.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

Lilith stands outside his room, holding a tray of tea and cakes.

“Hey, um, may I come in?” Her smile is both hopeful and uncertain. It’s a gamble, ambushing the fourth-born when he obviously has no interest in her. At best, he’ll make up an excuse to turn her away or just ignore her completely; at worst, well… she doesn’t really want to think about that. To her visible relief, he opens the door wider and steps aside.

Satan clears a space for her to set the tray down. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation before he drags your favorite armchair over and offers her a seat as well. He looks guarded but not openly hostile, a promising sign so far.

“You’ve been in and out of the house lately, so I haven’t had the chance to catch you. I thought we might sit down and talk,” Lilith says, pouring two cups of the hot beverage as she chooses her next words carefully. “The others told me about how you were born, but I understand that you are your own person. I’d like to get to know that person.”

A part of Satan is acutely aware of their one-sided relationship; he is familiar with her through Lucifer, but she has never met him. It makes sense for her to be curious about him, though Satan isn’t so sure he wants to return the favor. She reminds him too much of you in the way she prepares her tea, how she sits on your chair, her shy lopsided smile —

But she’s not you, and you’re not her, Satan has to remind himself lest he commits the same mistake his brothers nearly did after your lineage had been revealed. Now in a convoluted turn of events, it’s you who’s gone and Lilith here, and there’s no reason why he can’t give her a chance and treat her like the sister she could be to him.

It’s what you would have wanted.

Lilith tries not to let her shoulders slump too much when Satan quietly stands up and heads towards his door. She’s prepared to pack up and leave until she spots him grabbing several books from a nearby shelf.

“Have you ever read Mid-Fall Murders?” He asks, handing her a hardcover with a shy smile of his own.

“What’s it like?”

Satan’s grip on your hand tightens. “I don’t actually know,” he confesses, shuffling closer so that your shoulder and arm are pressed against his. It’s a strange sight, the two of you lying side by side on your bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

“Will it hurt?”

“No.”

You’ve never heard a single word hold so much promise, but you have no reason to doubt the demon’s sincerity. Satan wouldn’t take pity on you just because you’re —

A light knock on the door, and in pokes Simeon’s head. “Ah, little lamb! I’m glad we made it in time.”

“Not so little anymore, Simeon.” You laugh softly, greeting Luke and Solomon as they trail in behind him. Satan brushes his lips over your forehead before getting up to receive your guests.

The day is as ordinary as it can be. You talk and catch up with your friends, trading stories and laughter over cups of tea that neither grow cold nor go empty. When the session turns into a mini book club gathering halfway through, Luke helpfully retrieves the debated titles from the massive shelf in the living room. He takes a while to find them; you’ve accumulated plenty of works over the years: recommendations by Satan, literature published under Simeon’s pseudonym, and handwritten tomes from Solomon to keep you in touch with your magic. The shelf is practically jam-packed with books, the only exception being a corner on the topmost tier, housing a little space that’s empty save for a worn green collar with a rusted bell.

Come sundown the five of you are still neck-deep in discussion, but as with all good things, the get together eventually reaches an end.

“Thanks everyone, it’s been fun,” you say, reclining back in your bed as Satan wordlessly cleans up. You squeeze his hand when he returns to your side and bid the others goodbye. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys soon?”

“About that…” Solomon clears his throat, wearing the smug look that usually accompanies a trick being pulled out of his sleeve, but this time it’s tinged more with excitement than mischief. “Simeon has a little present for you first.”

The guileless smile on the angel’s face betrays nothing as he steps forward and reaches into a small pouch at his hip. “Solomon, Diavolo and I have a theory. Now, keep in mind that this is all very experimental, but if it works, you’ll have more options to choose from, should you so wish.”

And then he brings out a ring.

“Are you, uh, are you okay?”

“Not in the mood, Mammon.”

“Oi, I’m trying to be nice here! Who do you think covered for your sorry ass when you came back past curfew the other day, huh?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“You may think you’re all stealthy and shit, but your eyes were pretty red that night. I thought you were at a book club meeting. Did something happen?”

“None of your business.”

“Argh, fine then! This is the last time I try to be a good big brother.”

“…Mammon?”

“?”

“...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what are you — you can’t just say that and then run off! Get back here!”

“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”

Lilith’s countdown echoes along the deserted hallway, prompting Beel to nudge the deadweight on his back. “Belphie, go get your own hiding place.”

“Mmngh… zzz…”

“Come on, or she’ll win this round with a two for one. Again.”

“…Just dump me somewhere she won’t find me then.”

A tall order, especially since Lilith can easily track them down by listening out for Beel’s stomach and/or Belphie’s snores. Still, the sixth-born lumbers through the house as quietly as he can, doing a one-eighty whenever he hears Lilith’s cheerful hums coming from the opposite direction. Technically they can avoid being caught if they keep moving, but that would be cheating. They hid in the attic previously so that’s a no go, their room’s too obvious, the kitchen too tempting, the common room too exposed…

Maybe Levi’s room? The otaku had sound-proofed his walls to avoid distractions from the outside world when he’s gaming, so it’s an ideal location to hide. He can stash Belphie in the bathtub and run interference until time’s up.

Backtracking, Beel breaks into a light jog towards the other wing, keeping his ears open for their seeker. It’s only because of his heightened senses that he’s able to pick up the faintest traces of magic on one of the walls, causing him to pause in his steps.

“Hmm? Why’d you stop?” Slightly more awake now, Belphie rubs his eyes and slides off his twin, who’s studying the blank space intently. “What’s wrong, Beel?”

“There’s something here, something…”

“It’s just a wall —”

“No, don’t you feel it? I know you weren’t around then, but it’s the same glamor as that time Luke went missing and we —”

Beel goes white. He whispers a name, a name not spoken in the house for years, and a door flickers into view. One hand grabs Belphie’s in a death grip as the other twists the knob and pushes the door open, revealing an old yet familiar room.

The place is devoid of life. Most of the furniture are covered by sheets, resting under thick layers of dust. In the middle sits a tree, sagging with age and soft with rot. Sunken footprints mark the demons’ furtive venture into decrepit memory, and the creaking of floorboards with every step only tethers the growing nightmare closer to reality.

A photo frame crashes to the ground.

They deserve this.

Satan feels it the moment the spell concealing your room was broken. It had been his way of protecting your memory, ensuring that your sanctuary would only be accessible to those who made the effort to remember you. He cast it about a year after you had left the Devildom, after he realized that leaving your door in plain sight wasn’t doing you any favors.

Hidden away in an alcove at the back of the garden, curled up with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea, Satan slides a bookmark between the pages of his latest novel and leans his head back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

Even this far away from the house, he can hear the cacophony of screams and shouts, objects being flung and shattered into pieces, a muted bang suggesting that a wall has just collapsed. The fallout comes as no surprise; waking up after living the past hundred years or so in a daze will do that to a person – or in this case, demons.

Although the sounds of fighting call to the rage bubbling within him, the vindictive thoughts of his brothers getting their just desserts cool it to a simmer. He knows he’ll have to face them eventually, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Meow?”

Emerald eyes blink open. There’s a faint rustle from the nearby bushes as a tiny Calico wanders out of the foliage, peering around the garden curiously. Upon spotting the blond demon, it perks up and makes a beeline for him.

“Hm? You’re not Callie. Are you new here, little one?” His mood considerably improved, Satan extends a hand towards the kitten. It skips the finger sniffing step and goes straight to headbutting his palm, begging for attention.

“You’re an affectionate one, aren’t you?” Satan caves immediately and scritches away with a delighted chuckle. He examines the markings on its tri-colored fur, wanting to recognize the friendly feline if it comes back in the future. The Calico is mostly white with patches of brown and black splashed over the back of its neck, near the base of its tail, just under the side of its ribs, and several other spots that seem to collectively resemble a familiar pattern…

Satan’s hand stills. He whispers your name, trembling with hope, and the kitten practically leaps into his arms, nuzzling his chin with a happy purr.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me replaced mc au

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darlingpetao3 · 3 years

Text

Thank You For Ruining My Life: An Homage to Tom Cavanagh

“You’ve ruined all my future expectations of men.”

The costume-clad woman had the courage of steel to say this to the then 53-year-old actor, Tom Cavanagh of The Flash, in front of a ballroom filled with a couple hundred people. This brave utterance was spoken during the 2016 Fan Expo Vancouver convention during a Flash question and answer period with actors Tom Cavanagh and Candice Patton. In its third season, the show was undoubtedly still hitting its stride in popularity, and the room was packed to hear these two speak.

The brave woman whose turn it was at the microphone was referring to Tom’s role as Ed Stevens on the NBC 2000 hit, Ed. I had not known of this show previously, but having now heard such a proclamation intrigued me. “You’ve ruined all my future expectations of men.” That was a tempting notion, and as I continued to listen to this disarmingly charming and wittingly funny man steal the stage, Tom intrigued me even more. I’d watched him play three different versions of Harrison Wells on The Flash since the show’s premiere date, yet I hadn’t truly noticed him in a “life-ruining” way before.

Little did I know that Tom Cavanagh would not only eventually ruin my expectations for men as well, but he would change my life in other ways, too.

After the Q&A, I had this urge to buy a S.T.A.R. Labs T-shirt from one of the vendors at the convention. In my head, I thought I would purchase something so that I could have an excuse to talk to Mr. Cavanagh at his signing booth. Again, he intrigued me, and I wanted to experience more of his incredibly likeable personality. So, I dragged my friend with me to wait for what was maybe ten minutes in a queue. Shortly, I was paying the assistant for my autograph I would soon acquire. They wrote my name on a sticky note so that Tom would know how to sign a personalized message to me. And then, it was my turn.

His eyes sparkled when he turned his attention to me. I instantly had a feeling this was just the way he was naturally. Oh yeah, and I swear to God I’d never seen eyes that blue in my entire life. It genuinely stunned me.

“Hi!” he greeted me.

“Hi!” I responded, equally as thrilled. Tom admired the T-shirt I had brought and took note of my name on the piece of paper. I remember us joking together about the extremely lax security in and around S.T.A.R. Labs on the show, which prompted his message to me on the heather-grey cotton. He wrote my name, [followed by a heart!] and a very welcoming, ‘Come on by, just walk right in!’

I had official clearance from Harrison Wells himself.

I thanked him very much, leaving with my treasure folded over my arms. My friend and I walked towards the hall’s exit, and I couldn’t shake this feeling inside me. It felt strange—I couldn’t name it for the life of me. It felt like an odd fluttering with a simultaneous yet contradictory slightness of breath. My head was confused and would continue to be so for the rest of that weekend.

As I waited at my gate in the airport on that Sunday evening to head home, all I knew was that the moments at the con featuring Tom were the highlights of the weekend for me.

And that I was going to begin watching more of the other films and television shows he’d been in. What was the show the brave cosplaying woman had said ruined her expectations of men? Oh yeah, Ed.

Maybe I’ll start there…

***

Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad…

In my house, it’s never really Christmastime until Michael Bublé croons through the speakers of the wooden stereo system in the living room. It felt especially festive as it was now Christmas Eve—a month and some change since the con. It was late, possibly ten o’clock. I was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree with my trusty laptop, a word document open. I was writing three holiday-song short stories featuring the new muse in my life, Harrison Wells. I wanted to be able to post them the next day, so my fingers were taptaptapping away.

I had written a handful of things before 2017, most of which had been Marvel-related, under my second, ‘rebirth’ pen name online. I was a little fish among all the grand and fabulous writers on Archive of Our Own, and in many ways, I still feel like that little fish. I was only just learning and feeling out the psyche of the Wells characters. Each one is so different. In my rewatch of the previous seasons of The Flash, I’d taken diligent notes, and as I’d later learn with each following rewatch, I would know them all—what they think, how they talk and behave—like the back of my hand. It was fun to suss out these guys, and I found that I was growing to love the act of writing even more.

One month later, in January, I would post all the stories I’d written thus far on Tumblr. I’d just created an account and, who knows? Maybe I’d get a wider range of readers on here, too.

Might as well give it a shot, right?

***

Wild horses couldn’t keep me from attending Fan Expo Vancouver 2017, especially when the big news dropped. Not only would Tom Cavanagh be attending again, but so would Carlos Valdes, Danielle Panabaker, Candice Patton, and the convention-elusive star of the show himself, Grant Gustin.

Before the moderator for the Flash cast’s Q&A panel could utter the final thanks to the actors at the end of the session, I bounded from my seat and sped down to the photo op booth where the cast would be taking “Team Up” photos with fans. ‘Sped down’ has to be the most appropriate couple of words because I indeed felt like a true Speedster dressed head to toe as the small screen’s adaptation of Jesse Quick, the angsty and brilliant daughter to Harrison Wells turned superhero.

After waiting in a queue that felt like ages, I was next to stand with Team Flash. As I took a step forward, all of the actors’ and actresses’ eyes—the people I spend time with every Tuesday evening—were on me. I heard a familiar voice approve of my costume. It was Danielle.

“Tremendous.”

Grant even joked that he thought for a second Violett Beane, the actress who plays Jesse Quick, had shown up to surprise them. “I was like, what’s Violett doing here?” he said.

I stood in the back row, happily sandwiched between Tom and Carlos. I dared to let my hands rest on their backs, and I couldn’t contain my joy. Shortly after, when I received my near-instant physical photograph of the moment, I saw Tom had pointed at me. In my mind, it felt as if in his gesture, he meant, hey, look at this cool person. Haha. I couldn’t be further from it.

I would go on to further be uncool in public as I later found myself virtually shaking and almost hyperventilating in line for a one-on-one photo op with Tom. The guy dressed as Kid Flash behind me gave me a few encouragements of the “it’ll be okay” variety. As my turn finally arrived, the lovely man of the hour greeted me with a bright smile in recognition of my Reverse Flash T-shirt (I had done a quick change before this photo op because I had worn a Flash T-shirt for a photo with Grant).

“Great shirt!”

The internet comes up with many hilarious and fitting words, but none such so than the term “Cavanarms.” One of the said Cavanarms found its way around my shoulder in such a casual way. My hand rested on his back, and I have told anyone who will listen about how soft his sweater was. What was approximately a five-second interaction will stay with me forever. And to this day, I will always regret how I’m standing beside him in the picture—there’s a distinguishable gap between us. I could have been closer—should have been!—but I like to use the fact that I felt as if I’d combust into flames if I were any closer to the man.

Maybe I’d have another chance to combust later again that day because, believe it or not, this fan hadn’t had enough of seeing Mr. Cavanagh in person. And since he was appearing at the con for this day only, there was no way I was going to squander any opportunities. Besides, there was still one final thing left on my convention docket: the autograph. In my mind, going to get his autograph was an excuse to get to talk to him and simply be in his presence for longer than five seconds. Here, take my money. I’m a sucker, and I’m proud of it. I saved all year for this kind of thing, and Fan Expo has always been my ultimate nerdy Treat Yoself Day.

Plus, this year I came equipped with a question for Tom (something for which I may have prepared a little too far in advance).

“Which of your characters would win in a lawyering battle: Ed or Miles?”

Miles was Tom’s latest character from his newly released project Darrow & Darrow, a fellow lawyer as Ed Stevens (remember, the man who ruins women’s expectations of men?), whom he portrayed almost two decades prior. What I loved about Tom when I got to ask him this was that he was silent for a moment following the question. He was genuinely putting thought into my question. As he pondered, Tom continued to autograph the photo of us together taken mere hours ago.

“Ed. He would wipe the floor with that other guy. Like, Miles is great, but Ed has a rapier-sharp mind, you know?”

I wholeheartedly agreed with his answer and felt relieved inside for some reason. We thanked each other (as politely as two Canadians can) before I left him to pay attention to the next lucky soul in line. I made the mistake of casting my eyes downward at the signed photo.

Tom had signed two little hearts over the I’s in my name. He really needed to stop adding hearts to my things, or I was just going to melt to the floor. In fact, I started to make these strange noises as I tried not to completely maul everyone in front of me while exiting. My friend ushered me as fast as physically possible on our way out of the main hall. One man took one look at me and asked, “Are you okay?”

No.

“Yep!”

The second I made it out of the herd, I broke out into open space. First came the minor hyperventilating. Then came the squealing followed by laughter. Top it off with various fangirlish comments of, “He’s so beautiful!”, “His eyes are so blue!” and “I love him!” and I was probably quite the sight to see (but at a convention, that’s considered normal!). My friend smiled on as she let me express everything that I had to keep inside until I had the right time to expel my emotions. I was on cloud nine. Ten, if at all possible.

The next day would be the con’s final day, which I would attend alone. My friend needed to catch the ferry in order to prepare for her courses the day after. I did a scan of the convention hall one final time in case there was something I missed purchasing. Afterwards, I sat on the cold hard flooring of the convention centre hallway for a bit of a break. I was wiped out. With my phone in hand, I smiled at the messages from this one Tumblr blogger who had been following my posted adventures at the con. I had seen and replied to many of her comments on my stories I’d written thus far, and I enjoyed her matching enthusiasm for Tom and The Flash in general. I felt her to be a kindred spirit. I had no idea then that I was chatting with one of my future best friends, L.

***

I spotted her.

She was wearing an identical shirt to the one I had on—a light grey T-shirt with a sequinned Spider-Man mask in the corner, which around it read, We met on the Web. A giddy me couldn’t wait for the short escalator ride to end. Her back was to me and facing the baggage claim, so here was my chance to surprise her instead.

I towered over my friend, E, and donned a low, authoritative voice.

“Excuse me, Miss, can you come with me?”

She squealed a greeting to me and I returned it as we hugged for the very first time after two and a half years of online friendship. We would still have about two hours to kill until our mutual Tumblr best friend, L, touched down at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport from across the Pond.

Something I noticed was that E and I carried on talking during our wait like it was second nature, that we hung out like this all the time. Whereas when I met L in person for the first time the year previously, our first meeting was that of quiet, delighted shock, unknowing how to react to one another’s physical presence. It almost felt like a fantasy. The closest thing we’d ever gotten to this was visiting over video chats! I’m not sure what each of these different reactions in these separate meetings meant, but what I do know is that I’ve never had such strong female friendships such as these—so full of uplifting support and love for one another. They are the greatest ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

And as a searching L eventually turned the corner to meet us in the Arrivals terminal, I caught sight of her Tom & Grant bandana tied around the handle to her carry-on bag. It was an item she had received in return for helping fund the short film produced in 2018 (I’d bought the ringtone). Seeing the accessory jolted me to remember that the former of the titular short was the reason for this long-awaited get-together holiday in the Windy City in the first place. Tom Cavanagh, unbeknownst to him, had just officially united three online friends, each from a different country, to spend six full days of in-person bonding and a whole lot of fun.

***

I should have been shelving books.

I should have been doing a lot of library-related tasks, but my head was elsewhere. Anywhere other than the small-town public library where I work. Instead, I sat on the carpeted floor of the Junior/Young Adult section with my phone in hand and a dreadful article title staring back at me.

“The Flash: Carlos Valdes and Tom Cavanagh to Exit after 7 Seasons.”

My world felt like it was falling apart.

Tom was leaving? There had been rumours and wonderings spreading around the fandom regarding whether he was leaving the show. With a storyline ending with a monumental sacrifice and a time-travelling man saying his farewells, it all seemed to point to the fact. I should have known… I could have rivalled Supergirl as being the Paragon of Hope after all the optimism I doled out to my followers and friends who would come to me worried Tom would exit the show. I would always give reasons to deny such a thing could happen, claiming that I’d believe when I saw it.

Well, there it was, and I definitely saw it.

One could feel the ripple effect over the internet of the shards of broken and riled-up hearts around the world.

Tom’s exit was on his terms, having not felt challenged by his character’s plotlines, as mentioned in a recent Entertainment Weekly article. As a viewer—and I am a viewer (Mike and Tom Eat Snacks, anyone?), it has been increasingly difficult to look past the missed shots made by story editors and showrunner, so understandably, the actor would want to seek something more exciting and meatier. That said, Tom has always shone on-screen and taken what he’s been given in stride. He turns unearthed material into diamonds and indeed shines on screen. Steals it, even! Tom easily makes the episodes he’s in better, and when he’s missing, you feel the loss. The few episodes of Season 7 without him only give us a tiny hint at how the show will be without him going forward. It much resembles when you might bring out your favourite jigsaw puzzle, only to find that the one piece you need to complete it isn’t there.

***

On a personal note, as I write this, I am roughly 20 followers away from reaching a milestone of 2,000. I have written well over 200 stories for The Flash alone (whether they be short or long, one-shots or chaptered), and goodness knows how many words I’ve generated altogether over the course of these many years with inspiration from the show and my favourite character. I’ve written and co-written novel-length stories, one monumental Wellsian story of which was done alongside L and E (almost solely done through alternating text messaging in the app, Line) that reached over 108,000 words and consisted of 42 chapters. And when I’m not writing for my blog, I’m also working on trying to accomplish my dream of becoming a published author. Just as I thought before I launched my Tumblr blog, I think again now: Might as well give it a shot, right?

***

I have watched virtually everything Tom has been in that I could get my hands on, both physically and electronically. Sure, a few titles are out of my reach and probably lost to the very early 90's forever, but from what I've seen through Tom's filmography is enough to know that he can do anything. He can play the romantic leading man that will make you fall head over heels for him or a deranged killer that will have you genuinely scared of him. That is talent. Tom always brings something new to the table from each role to the next, and (when he's not playing those psycho killers) you can't help but admire his craft.

Not only is his acting stellar, but from what we as fans have gathered on the man, Tom has got to be one of the kindest men in the business. His humour and sheer ridiculousness could get anyone through a tough time (we’ve seen plenty of bloopers and behind-the-scenes videos to prove this!). He has clearly bottled and stored an endless supply of Fountain of Youth™ and each year continues to wow us with his handsomeness. Tom is charming, dedicated, and yes, arguably holds the world record for Bluest Eyes.

In my eyes, Tom Cavanagh gave me the two best friends I could have ever asked for, as well as plenty more lovely friends I’ve continued to make online. (One day, I hope to meet him again so that I can tell him in person how because of him, I’ve met such very important people in my life). Through Tom, I have truly found my passion for writing, and in doing so, segued me to dare to dream of becoming a published novelist. I wholeheartedly believe all of this would not have happened if it weren’t for those first series of events that led me to meet Tom and love and admire him immensely. He is indisputable proof that there are indeed men like him out there. Indeed, he did ruin all of my future expectations of men. He ruined my life in the absolute best way and I am eternally grateful.

I am very much looking forward to what Tom will do next. I think it’s rather needless to say that I will follow him in his career, as he has gained a devoted fan for life. He represents so much to me and so much of it I have gained since meeting him that fateful day, when I thought to myself, Maybe I should buy this T-shirt and get this guy to sign it. Wherever Tom goes in life, I’ll be here to cheer him on.

I have a pretty good feeling plenty of others will, too.

#i don't exactly want to tag this with his name #but this is a personal essay of sorts regarding tom cavanagh's effect on my life #if you decide to read I hope you enjoy it!

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himbo-kuto · 4 years

Text

i saw this screencap from the manga and knew IMMEDIATELY that i would have to write a lil headcanon of aone and his turtle. he is literally the most precious person who deserves the whole entire world.

i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it!

genre: fluff, wholesomeness, a whole baked bean, college!au pairing: aone x gn!reader word count: 2k warning: language

okay so you ended up being roommates with aone, futakuchi, and mai when you ended up transferring colleges last minute and needed housing

you saw that they had an empty spot and with time not being on your side, you decided to take the opportunity!! apt 205 squad!!

at first you kind of felt left out since they all knew each other from date tech but you soon warmed up to futakuchi since you had a few classes with him and mai because well-- you guys shared a room

HOWEVER!! one person you couldn’t seem to get close to was a man by the name of takanobu aone-- lemme tell u sumn about this Baked Bean

whenever you tried to interact with him, all he would do is 👁 👄 👁 or just Grunt in response

you were a bit discouraged because you thought he didn’t like you so you shied away from talking to him again :(

but futakuchi was quick to ensure you that was just his way of communicating and that he was actually really engaged in the conversation

“oh yeah, he’s a great listener-- i talk to him for hours and he just sits and listens”

“ok futakuchi-san, but have you considered that you talk Too much for your own good?”

he gave you the finger for that one

but omg the first time aone Spoke to you????? rocked ur mf world-- what the Heck!!

you were in the mood to bake some cookies and were looking for the big mixing bowls but you just remembered that futakuchi used it to try and make a baking soda volcano

why??? who knows but all you do know is that he put it ALL the way on the top shelf-- and for what????

but u know-- bein dumb as dirt u tried to use a swivel chair to try and reach for them

and of course it was all the way in the back like wtf curse these tall men--

and so you got on your tippy toes and right as you were about to reach it, Of Course the chair decided to turn

and u were 🤏🏼 this close to eating shit but thanks to the one-- the only-- tol angel baby aone, he stopped the chair dead in its tracks just in time for you to regain your balance

“are you okay?”

you were so shook (one from almost breaking your face and two-- AONE JUST SPOKE AND SAVED YOU!!!)

at first you just stood there blinking down at him with the bowls in your arms like hinata season 4, episode 15 - 15:37

he held up his arms to you and you blushed so hard because was he really about to carry you down????

but before your mind had anytime to roam, he pointed to the bowls and you realized with your real eyes that you were not the one to whom he was referring to

it wasn’t long until you got over your initial iron wall with aone (…. 😏) and he actually ended up being someone you hung out with on a regular basis

mai was always out studying for her practicals in the library while futakuchi… well.. who even knows what the heck that man is up to..

but ANYWAYS!! you guys would hang out mostly in the living room to watch TV, do homework and eat meals-- he always helped you with your math homework and you helped him with his architecture models!!

you didn’t really know what he liked to watch but he didn’t seem to oppose whatever you had on-- however, you Did notice that whenever you put on volleyball he stared very intensely at the TV only stopping when commercials came on

aone Always ate your home cooked meals without fail

literally such a sweet and appreciative boy as opposed to futakuchi who would complain but one time aone gave him That Look™️ and he shut right the fuck up

that day forward futakuchi ate all your meals like a good boy

aone has also become very protective of you-- in high school, he may have locked onto the aces of the other teams, but in college he locked onto his close friends to make sure they were safe

one time you guys got onto a cramped bus to go grocery shopping and all it took was this creepo man to just Look at you the wrong way for aone to stand right in front of you and shoot this man a death glare that said “if you even think about touching her i’ll put you into the ground”

HE MAY HAVE A HEART OF GOLD BUT DONT MESS WITH THE PEOPLE HE CARES ABOUT OR ELSE IT’S HANDS

but know this ladies, gents and my non-binary friends, we MOST DEFINITELY sit next to aone on the bus and engage in the best of conversations because tHATS WHAT THIS MAN DESERVES!!!!!!!!!

not to mention all the times he has saved you due to your clumsiness and overall single brain cell fueled activities

one fateful day you were sitting in the living room as you saw aone come home with a whole bag of groceries

he didn’t put them into the communal fridge so you were a bit confused as to why he took them straight into his room

you weren’t one to just bust in there to try and find out so later when you guys were eating dinner you asked him what he bought at the store

he listed off a bunch of produce and then said that they were for his turtle!!!!

you were all !!?!?!??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 TURTLE?????? WHERE??? HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN HERE??? CAN I SEE THEM?

he goes on to tell you that he’s had the turtle ever since they all moved in!! but it never came up in conversation so you never knew until now

him and futakuchi rescued the turtle but when they tried to let them go, they didn’t go anywhere so they kept them!!

so after dinner you both quickly washed the dishes, and he brought you into their room to show you his turtle

you were honestly a bit nervous going into their room-- like what were you to expect??? was it going to be messy?? stinky?? clean??? were there any secrets????

but to your surprise it was fairly clean and simple-- even futakuchi’s side (which you assumed was aone’s doing)

you looked around his room to find all these old pictures of date tech on the wall, many of them with futakuchi and mai

there was even a photo of all the third years clinging to aone like koalas on a tree and though his expression was faint, you could tell that he was happy

it warmed your heart to see that he got along with his teammates and held these memories close to him-- they accepted him for who he was and that was more than enough for you

he also had plethora of architecture books on his shelves which made you wonder why he picked that major in the first place

but you shrugged it off as you looked over to his desk

there was a table next to it with an enclosure and a cute little turtle sunbathing underneath a lamp inside

you scurried over to the tank, getting down on your knees to get eye level with the animal while you slowly brought your face to the glass

the turtle was half curled into its shell, looking up at you as he gave you a slow blink

you could’ve sworn you felt your heart explode and melt all at once in that Exact moment

you looked up at aone with 🥺 eyes before looking back to reptile to see them poking their head out to fully greet you

you squealed internally as you wiggled your finger as your salutations

“do they have a name?” 🥺

“ichigo-desu...” (strawberry)

you thought your heart exploded before?????????????

oh bitch you felt like you were about to go into full blown cARDIAC ARREST MY G O D!!!!!!

“did futakuchi name them?”

“no i did…”

you literally hunched over, and leaned onto the desk for support as your heart was filled with his soft boy energy because there was no wAY!!! DID AONE JUST NAME THIS TURTLE ICHHHIGOOOO BITCHHH AHHH

but lowkey aone was also being filled with your soft energy and got all blushy-- but thank god you were too occupied by his turtle to notice

“do you want to feed him a strawberry? it’s his dinner time too”

you could not have said yes faster to this man

he went into his personal fridge and there you saw all the groceries he had earlier that day!! he pulled out a single strawberry before handing it over to you

he walked over to the tank and cautiously pulled out ichigo before placing them on the ground

HOWEVERRRRRR!! what came next you didn’t expect at all

he walked around so that he was behind you, gingerly reached for your hand and guided you to hold the strawberry out for ichigo

ichigo craned their neck in the sight of the fruit and started chowing down

and by God you hoped that aone could not hear your loud ass heartbeat and see your red ass face-- (you were surprised that ichigo wasn’t going after you since your face might as well have been a strawberry)

you two sat in a comfortable silence as you watched the little reptile enjoy his dinner

as ichigo drew closer to the leafy bit, you wanted to ask aone if he was allowed to eat that part

so you turned your head to the side to speak but immediately closed your mouth as aone’s face was only centimeters away from yours

you thought you were red back then???? bitch buckle up cause we’re reaching a new LEVEL of red

at that moment you were no think, no thought, head EMPTY as you just stared at his profile

all of his features were strong... the bridge of his nose, his jawline, his expression-- he himself was a strong man and you just wondered how all this soft, fluffy, wholesomeness was packed into this 192cm man

and just as you relaxed into this position

FUTAKUCHI BUSTS THROUGH THE DOOR WITHOUT ANY KIND OF WARNING JUST TALKIN OUT OF HIS ASS

at first he’s so absorbed into his own conversation that he doesn’t even notice you guys in that position

but when he does??? it’s like those moments in animes where you’re all chibitized and you just have circle eyes and a blank expression o_o

you IMMEDIATELY come to your senses, releasing the rest of the strawberry and aone’s hand

if you could peace fade in this moment, you would’ve definitely flashed futakuchi a duces

but alas, you could not..

so you scrambled to your feet-- but not before thanking aone for letting you meet his turtle-- and RAN out TF of that room heart a BEEATTINN

from that day on, you visited aone and his turtle a lot more-- even going so far as buying things for ichigo!!

“hey aone-san, did ichigo like the squash i cooked?”

“mm.”

“hey aone-san, does ichigo like the new hide?”

“mm.”

“look aone-san! he can’t grip onto the cherry tomato!! it keeps rolling around!”

“mm.”

many of your conversations went along like that and he always appreciated the amount of effort you put into them

he wasn’t a man of many words but did his best to make sure you knew that he was listening and engaged

at one point mai and futakuchi said that “he has spoken more words to you in these past few months than he has with us in 3 years”

you were surprised but also flattered by the fact that aone was comfortable enough to open up and have conversation with you

although it was a bit of a rough patch in the beginning, you were glad that you became a part of the 205 squad! it was you, aone, futakuchi, mai and ichigo against the world!!

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq imagines #aone takanobu #aone headcanons #aone x reader #headcanon #im simping for this man know that rn AHAHAH

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