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catboybiologist · 8 months

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Random actual vent that is probably more venty than my usual random little things, but occasionally I have to step back and think how asinine the salary system for PhD students can sound to people outside of academia. I really just want to like... lay it on the table, because it really is fucking dumb and I occasionally want validation that its fucking dumb.

Note that this is all coming from a traditional lab sciences, in the US perspective. Also, I'm really fucking ADHD and have a really, really shitty brain for bureacracy, so this is a rant and isn't really intended to be informative and might be wrong in places, its just me word vomiting.

Let's start with something straight off the bat- grad school isn't really school. It's work that creates value for the university, and you happen to take one or two courses on the side that the university has determined will make you better at that work (your mileage may vary). It's an entry level job, essentially. You create value for the university in one of two ways- you either contribute to research that gets them grant money, or you teach undergrads that pay tuition. We'll get back to how that affects you later, but first lets talk about something else: what the university claims they pay you vs what you actually get paid.

On paper, my income is approximately 3 times as much as my actual, take home income. There's two reasons for this. The first is that I am technically charged tuition by the central university, which is then immediately paid off by the source of my income. In official job titles, that's technically included in what you're getting paid, although most universities don't even bother advertising that. The other confounding factor is that you're literally always considered part time. The exact % time varies depending on your exact schedule, and of course your university, but its actually weirdly consistent even between universities. Technically, the work you do on your thesis isn't "work", and the university doesn't technically pay you to do it. Even though the work you do on your thesis literally generates revenue for the university in the form of grant overhead. But we'll get to that. If you're a researcher for a given appointment term, you're expected to also do research activities that are unconnected to your thesis- which is ridiculous, because there's no lab in existence where the work isn't all interconnected in some way.

Half time appointments are common, but lots of different percentages exist.

So, if you ever see a figure that says that a grad student position is paid at about $80k a year, that's whats going on. The highest take-home income I have EVER heard of in the US for PhD students is $54k, at Stanford neuroscience. I think its a bit higher now, but that at least gets you a ballpark. Most STEM PhD students on the high cost of living coasts are paid 30-40k ish, and in cheaper areas you can expect to take 5k off of that. These are for degrees that usually make six figures on the job market.

And then there's the other convoluted problem- the source of the funding. This is where the academia salary model really has a unique brand.

Basically, when you're a PhD student, you're not working one job for the full 5-7 years. You're constantly flipping between job titles within the university, and who exactly is paying you changes as a result.

The most basic distinction is researcher vs teaching assistant. TA is easy- you work "part time" (but oh my god those workloads are not part time sometimes [although the class I'm TAing now is very chill so its w/e][fuck you molecular genetics at my master's uni tho]), and the department you're teaching for pays for your tuition and your salary as a result.

Researcher is a bit weirder. Basically, each lab is conducted as its own independent financial unit, managed by a Principle Investigator (PI, or to any grad student, the professor/boss/research advisor/liege/monarch/authority of the lab). The PI is constantly writing lab wide grants to supply the core funding of the lab, including the salary of the grad students. Grants can be pretty general, but there are also very specific ones that check in how the money is being spent. These include training grants/fellowships/tbh the name is arbitrary for a lot of these. Those are grants that are written to supply the salary of a specific grad student.

Couple things to note- the university charges the PI in a lot of ways on this. Notably:

They charge tuition on every grad student, as mentioned previously, which under a researcher appointment is paid from the PI to the university.

They charge overhead on grants- basically, they take money out of every grant the PI gets.

If the previous two sources aren't enough, oftentimes universities will pay rent on the amount of building space a lab takes up (although this is very inconsistent between universities)

Researcher appointments are considered favorable to teaching appointments, because they mean you can spend more of your time on your thesis. But, its dependent on whether your PI has the funding to pay you all that, which is a big if. So, every quarter or semester or year or however much your university decides to renegotiate it, you essentially switch jobs, in a way. Obviously its a lot more simple and streamlined than actually switching jobs, but your title, responsibility, source of income, and sometimes your actual pay changes constantly.

And to anyone who has been through a PhD, you're nodding along like this is all the basic stuff, because all this is so NORMAL. Like this is all the normal system, and this is the bare basics of it as well. And it's weird that it's normal, right? Like, most of my career has been tied to academia, so I don't have a fantastic benchmark for this, but this isn't how it works outside of academia like... at all.

Over the course of late last year and bleeding into this year, multiple graduate student unions have had strikes or negotiations regarding pay scale, but its been a very difficult situation for the average grad student to untangle because of how weird the source of pay is. Because technically, even though you functionally work a single, salaried job with slightly changing obligations, what's happening behind the scenes is that you're essentially hopping between jobs every couple of months. In an ideal system, those jobs always have the same pay, but that's increasingly becoming not the case. Sometimes that means getting paid more overall, sometimes slightly less. Union negotiations have made this pay slightly higher overall, but its still a mess of a system.

And obviously, there's paperwork associated with so many of these steps.

So in my last post, when I said "getting a grant", that was what I was referring to- applying for training grants that will guarantee that I don't have to teach extra or get extra money from my PI for the time I'm here. I'd love to get more teaching experience, but ofc I want to do it when I want to, not when I have to. I'm applying for multiple training grants over the next couple of months that will hopefully fund my salary specifically, and hopefully I'll get at least one of them. And tbh, I don't even care that much about teaching, I more want them because it'll dramatically simplify all this for me.

I love what I do to death, but untangling this shit is what gives me imposter syndrome more than anything. I think my arrogant streak shows when I can genuinely say that I've never felt imposter syndrome based on my scientific knowledge. I have felt it over two things- my motivation/productivity (which is a different rant entirely), and the fact that I am really, really bad at untangling the level of bureaucracy required to just... exist here. Just give me my fucking paycheck and let me do my science, and tell me when you want me to teach.

#vent post #like an actual one lol

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todaviia · 2 years

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"We came to Prague to make some money and found a genius waiting for us - Homo sapiens in his highest degree of self-torture. Kafka wanted to be a Jew, but he didn't know how. He wanted to live, but he didn't know this, either. 'Franz,' I said to him once, 'you are a young man. Do what we all do.'

There was a brothel I knew in Prague, and I persuaded him to go there with me. He was still a virgin. I'd rather not speak about the girl he was engaged to. He was sunk to the neck in the bourgeois swamp. The Jews of his circle had one ideal - to become Gentiles, and not Czech Gentiles but German Gentiles. To make it short, I talked him into the adventure. I took him to a dark alley in the former ghetto and there was the brothel. We went up the crooked steps. I opened the door and it looked like a stage set: the whores, the pimps, the guests, the madam. I will never forget that moment. Kafka began to shake, and pulled at my sleeve. Then he turned and ran down the steps so quickly I was afraid he would break a leg. Once on the street, he stopped and vomited like a schoolboy. On the way back, we passed an old synagogue, and Kafka began to speak about the golem. Kafka believed in the golem, and even that the future might well bring another one. There must be magic words that can turn a piece of clay into a living being. Did not God, according to the cabala, create the world by uttering holy words? In the beginning was the Logos."

Isaac Bashevis Singer, "A Friend of Kafka & Other Stories"

#this short story ends with the very nice words #if there's a god he will reward you #and if there isn't who is playing all these games with jacques kohn?#posted solely bc of all the jewish kafka discourse ive had on my dash recently #unfortunately i couldnt find a yiddish version so far #even though the english version says it was translated

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madaramee · 10 months

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@rangikuxmatsumoto: ⚔️ I DEMAND PROTECTIVE IKKAKU

How'd this happen? --Ahh, right. He's just lucky.

The war never ended with Yhwach's defeat. Remnants across time surging on the very rare occasion, dispatching the best of the best to the scene to prevent any potential damage. It may have only been the King of the Quincies' remnants, though the danger his mere presence posed a year ago was enough to sound an emergency of the highest degree in the Seireitei.

It just so happens that the first to arrive at the scene was the only vacant Fukutaichou at the time; sent as the vanguard to the scene. Natually, a Fukutaichou that's been in service as long as she was, would manage to hold her ground; especially considering the urgency of such alarm would garner the arrival of several others, as well as Captains to boot. In other words, help was on its way.

Despite that... This wasn't the first time this alarm struck, though a tad too close to the last one. And strangely enough, specifically when she happened to be nearby with a group of nobodies. He trusted in Rangiku's abilities, of course. She was well-rounded in just about enough fields to protect herself and her squadmates should anything happen, and should be able to hold the remnants enough for the reinforcements to arrive. In this instance, it happened to be himself, Iba, the Kotetsu sisters and Yadomaru. All others were, unfortunately too far; though that roster by itself, including Rangiku, was enough. Under every circumstance observed on surface level, this was well within manageable scope. And even so, Ikkaku couldn't shake the feeling that something was, off. And not only him.

Speed was never in his best attribute. Even now as a Fukutaichou, he had trouble spamming Shunpo the same way his peers probably preferred to during combat. Though the uneasiness urged him to push faster, eventually finding his girlfriend within sight - the same time as the rest of the team. What laid however was, much less desirable. The sight of at least one of her subordinates downed, laid alone by a single tree in the outskirts of this Rukon district. As he observed her form rushing to their aid, her protectiveness over her squad members apparent as one who would take responsibility for their injury; the swirling black energy began to form behind her.

The other squad members weren't around; this was this nobody kid and her, alone. By every means, this was perceived as a targeted assault. But not one they wouldn't be able to interc--

"RANGIKU--!!!"

Without warning, the black swirl protruded one sharpened edge in almost perfect timing, directly aiming to pierce her. Though the attempt thankfully failed; as the blond was forcefully pushed to the side, forced to smack against the floor as the freshman from the 10th knocked over as well. The attack thankfully missed. It could have been bad if she took that -- it's a good thing they got there in...

"..."

...Looking down, his vision failing for a split-second, registering what had happened. Watching the shadowy appendage piercing through his abdomen, red tainting his Shihakusho and splattered over his golden plated arm. Wincing as the urge to vomit turned stronger than him, coughing out blood. The strong scent of iron overtaking, before it disappeared entirely; as the black appendage sharply exited his abdomen and back, only to be assaulted by the aiding troops. At least, that's what he perceived as his hearing dimmed out.

--Oh, right. That hasn't happened in a long time. Maybe the peacefulness of daily life dulled his blade, perhaps the sense of urgency dissipated at once and left him dizzy; though the bald man found himself unable to stay on his feet, giving in and falling to his knees with a gaping hole in his abdomen bleeding profusely - spilling red further down his Hakama. Very quickly, he could feel himself losing his consciousness. He's been there far too many times to mistake this. Dulled, dimmed voices, maybe calling his name. Maybe calling for a medic. Maybe chasing the shadow. Alone with his thoughts, strangely regretting putting himself in such misery; but not for the outcome. Rather for how pathetic his demise ultimately ends up being.

Her voice eluded him, but acknowledging his throat would fail him - Ikkaku remained only wishing in his mind, and strangely, being grateful. If somehow he wakes up from this, he'll undoubtedly get his head chewed off. But... He made it in time, after all. In the end,

He's just lucky.

Lucky that she's safe.

#rangikuxmatsumoto #intoxicate me now {||} ikkaran #tw blood #blood tw #yeah this was fun to write #SPOILER ALERT: 4TH DIVISION EXISTS

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the-maidofgevaudan · 2 years

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Love in the First Degree

Requested: Yes. (@maybankangel - I hope this is to your liking!). Not my Gif- creds to owner. This has no warnings beyond what shown in the show.

A/N: JJ is taken with your extensive criminal law knowledge... poor summary, but it was a very specific request haha. Also this is pretty unedited, so sorry if it is not the best. I just started my next semester of graduate school back up.

Word Count: 1.7 K

“So what’s going to happen now that you’re off the hook?” JJ asks John B.

“I guess it’ll be Rafe in jail next once they can charge him.” The brunette shrugs.

“Why haven’t they done that yet man. I mean they had no evidence, but Ward's word and you were thrown in the clink. Damn kooks always win.” JJ replies angrily as Kiara approaches with a girl he’s never met or seen before.

❊

“What’s JJ so worked up about?” Kiara says walking towards the two boys with you in tow.

“They haven’t charged Rafe yet.” John B answers.

“They probably haven’t charged him because Ward’s trying to cover it up.” You interject into the conversation. You’re met with a few quizzical expressions and continue, “Sorry- I just assume that’s what’s happening. It would make the most sense.” You smile at both of the boys.

“Kie, where’d you find the brainiac?” JJ asks, giving you a once over.

“Her name is Y/N, and we've been friends for a long time. We met at a sea turtle hatching.”

“Well, Y/N, What other ideas do you have?” John B asks.

“If Rafe is convicted of killing sheriff Peterkin then he will most likely be charged with first degree murder and” you begin before rudely being interupted by the blonde boy.

“First degree? Why not second?” JJ asks

“First degree applies in the case of a police officer. It would also apply if Peterkin had been a firefighter, judge, or prosecutor or anything along those lines.” you explain.

“So first degree is good?”

“If you want Rafe charged, then yes. First degree is the highest. Second degree murder is a step down. With Peterkin being a sheriff- he could also be charged with capital murder and receive the death penalty- although if it’s his first offense this may be less likely. He would be tried as an adult, but given his age and social standing the death penalty would likely be dropped. First degree is still good though because it would likely give him a sentence to life in prison.” You word vomit the information out.

You look around and notice everyone is staring intently and you begin to blush. “Sorry, I am really into criminal law.” You explain.

“No, don’t apologize. This is good, so what if Ward gets involved and takes the blame?” John B asks.

“Well the charge would stay the same pretty much, but since he’s older its more likely he could get the death penalty.”

“What if there was another murder?” JJ finally speaks again, still staring at you with those blue eyes. He’s looking at you so intently it feels like he’s looking into you.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Gavin was supposed to fly the Camerons plane to the Bahamas and was present that day on the tarmac. He was supposed to get rid of some evidence, but held onto it to get more money out of Ward. Ward found out and killed him.” Kiara explains.

“Oh wow, then he would get two charges of first degree murder- assuming he covers for Rafe.”

“Is there a way they get away with this?” JJ asks

“Claim insanity?” You let out a small laugh, “but that's pretty unlikely unless they have an amazing lawyer.”

“So, they’ll both go down for this unless Ward takes the blame.” John B says with a far off look in his eyes like he’s coming to terms with the fact that this chapter in his life may finally be coming to a close. JJ jumps on the boy and is smiling so big it looks like it hurts.

The moment is interrupted when your phone dings signaling a text, you turn to Kie, “I have to go, but it was nice meeting you guys.” You give Kiara a hug bye and head outside to start your walk home. Then you hear the door open and slam closed behind you- it’s JJ.

“There’s a party at the boneyard tomorrow. I didn’t know if Kie told you, but we’ll be there and you should come.”

“Yeah, I was planning on going. I’m always there.” You answer unsure of why he is giving you such a formal invitation.

“You’re a local?” He says in disbelief

You nod your head, “JJ, I had homeroom with you last year and I'm pretty sure we had the same fourth grade teacher.”

“Oh, my bad. Well, See you tomorrow then.”

“See you tomorrow JJ”

❊

You had been at the boneyard for hours now and hadn’t caught sight of Kiara or any of her friends. You wouldn’t admit to anyone, or even yourself for that matter, that you had secretly been scanning the area for a certain blonde haired boy all evening.

❊

“John B, hit the gas man. What’s taking so long?” JJ complains from the back of the twinkie.

“Chill out JJ. You’ve been on edge all day dude.” Pope calls back from the passenger seat in the front beside John B.

“He’s too anxious about seeing Y/N.” Kie teases.

JJ turns to Kiara and flips her off, “I’m trying to drink weed and smoke beers and the faster we get to the boneyard, the faster I can make that happen.”

Upon arriving at the boneyard the pogues file out of the twinkie and head out onto the beach. They all grab drinks and spend their time mingling with other people from school, dancing, and playing games. It takes a few hours, but JJ finally spots you. From his spot where he had been dancing by the bonfire with Kiara, he can see you clearly. You’re sitting on a blanket in the sand with a coffee mug in your hand. It’s somewhat of a ridiculous sight, a coffee mug on the beach, but it looks so natural being you and that brings a smile to JJ’s face. You’re sitting peacefully looking out over the crowd and JJ almost leaves his spot where he’s dancing when he sees a boy sneak up behind you, scaring you. You jump quickly from being spooked and then laugh wholeheartedly when you see who it was. The familiarity and history that it is so clear you share with this boy puts JJ in a poor mood and he spends the rest of the evening shotgunning beers and avoiding looking in your direction.

His plan works for a while, that is until he happens to glance in the direction of where you had been earlier and only sees an empty spot on the blanket you had been perched on earlier. He starts frantically looking around for where you could have gone when it's you who comes up behind him and startles him by saying his name.

“Ah! Jeez. You can’t sneak up on a guy like that.” He says somewhat out of breath.

“I’ve been looking for you.” You chuckle out.

“Oh, I hadn’t even noticed you had came.” He says looking out over the crowd of people.

“I told you I was coming.” You explain. You can tell something is off about him and just when you are going to ask you are interrupted.

It’s your brother who has arrived at your side with a small scowl on his face as he says, “We need to go home.”

“Can’t it wait a minute.” You ask, trying to indicate you were in the middle of something with JJ- who is now giving your brother a rather serious glare.

“Dad’s home, Y/N. I’m positive he wants us home after the day he’s had.” Your brother explains.

You can feel a shift in JJ’s mood as he’s figured out that the boy in front of him is your brother. “Fine, go grab our stuff and I’ll meet you at the car.” You say and then you turn to JJ, “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Y/N, come by the chateau tomorrow.” JJ states, in what you feel like you’re mistaking for a pleading tone. This is JJ Maybank afterall, why would he be so desperate to spend time with you. You give him a small nod as you walk away.

❊

The next day you do as JJ had asked or demanded and go by the chateau. He’s waiting out on the front porch for you when you arrive. You walk up and join him sitting on the couch beside him. “Hi.” You say as you sit.

“Hey.” He says looking at his hands.

“So I am really sorry I had to leave the beach early yest-” you stop short of finishing your sentence because JJ has moved so close to you that you think he is going to kiss you, and then you realize he is going to kiss you. You instinctively put your hands on either of his shoulders and stop him from coming any closer. You can feel his strong shoulders tense under your palms, he quickly backs away, and his face is now visibly red.

“Sorry, I uh-” He begins and then you also begin to try and sputter out an apology. The both of you make eye contact and begin to laugh. You are awkwardly fixing your hair and trying to compose yourself, and he looks like he is trying just as hard to figure out what he should be doing in this moment.

“I like you.” JJ eventually blurts out.

“I like you too, JJ.” You say feeling a blush come to your cheeks.

He has a confused look on his face that you can only attribute to your action of stopping him from kissing you, so you explain, “I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

“Okay.” He says slowly still trying to put together why this piece of information would have prompted you to stop him.

“JJ I've never kissed anyone either.”

The expression on his face only grows more intrigued and you mistake this for him mocking you so you scold him, “You don’t have to mock me JJ.”

“No, I’m sorry. I am just trying to process what world it makes sense that someone as pretty as you hasn’t had their first kiss.”

His words make you blush further and you’re both sharing a smile. “I have a plan.” JJ says and you nod for him to continue. “You let me take you out on a real first date, and when you’re ready for your first kiss, you let me know.”

You sit in silence pondering his words over for a moment and then finally say, “It’s a date.”

#jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #john b routledge #obx #outerbanks #pope heyward #kiara carrera #outer banks #jj maybank x you #rafe cameron

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anika-ann · 4 years

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Attached: Hurtful Words Pt.1

Type: (mini)-series, Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5600

Summary: Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

You knew for a fact that it was a load of BS. The truth is that words can break your heart. And that realization hits you full force the day you have your last exam to earn your bachelor degree.

If you pass, it will be a cause for great celebration. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

A/N: Attached: Hurtful Words is an addition that loosely followes the series. Will be in two (or three) parts. You don’t necessarily need to read the mini-series as a whole, but you will understand much better.

Warnings: I did something in here which I’m usually trying to avoid at any cost; in this story, I used Y/N Y/L/N. Does that count as a warning?

Warnings II: name calling, humiliation, panic attack!, bad poetry, mentions of vomiting and alcohol, the briefest mention of self-harm, angst, swearing, threats of violence

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You released the breath you had been holding, all your willpower put into not sinking into the chair in relief as Professor Phillips announced your grade – one that meant that you hadn’t failed.

In fact, you had just passed your last exam of your bachelor program so you were entirely in the right. In your head, an overexcited monkey started playing cymbals and you didn’t mind the noise despite how sleep-deprived you were from the past few days. A barely contained mad smile fought its way to your lips instead.

Mind you, as you thanked Professor Phillips and rose to your feet – your knees almost giving out, because HOLY SHIT YOU JUST GOT YOUR BACHELOR’S – you would swear you saw a brief smile on the professor’s face too as if he was amused at your antics.

But who cared if he was having fun at your expense?! You PASSED! You had been losing sleep, terrified of this exam, because everyone knew Phillips was a hard-ass – a fair one, but still a hard-ass – and you just passed his examination!

Time to pop the fucking champagne! The one Penny had been saving at the dorm from yesterday when she had finished her own degree; she insisted that she would wait for you, because you were in this together.

You couldn’t leave her waiting any longer and you didn’t have any intention to do so.

Leaving the room and walking into the empty hallway – because of course you came the last as if to prolong your torture – you breathed in and out and deliberately let the grin finally spread on your face fully.

You were free, you were ready to take on the world despite not being ready at all and you had Steve, who you suspected would be proud as hell and would celebrate with you tomorrow, graciously letting you and your roomie do it first-- and gosh, life was beautiful.

Making your way down the corridor, with a grin ever-present, a leaflet that hadn’t been there before caught your attention. It appeared a handwritten note, styled in a regular column – a poem perhaps.

Still smiling, the curiosity took the best of you and you walked to it, peripherally noticing that along the walls, there was even more.

You froze in your step when your gaze fell on the first line; your very own name was staring back at you and it confused you at first, a brief surge of excitement lighting up your body, a naïve belief that perhaps Steve somehow decided to surprise you.

But Steve’s last name came next, which you found strange.

And then came the word ‘whore’ and your heart stopped, your gaze automatically flickering all over the page.

Your stomach made a painful somersault, your mind turning blank.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of that nightmare materializing in front of you, reading and re-reading the poem that almost resembled a twisted nursery rhyme over and over.

Y/N Y/L/N Rogers’ whore Bet she’ll get The highest score For sucking dick Having fucked her ass Let’s hope she’ll soon Be eating grass

Darkness battled to cut off your vision, the world swaying off of its place. Involuntarily, your trembling hand reached out and touched the paper, smooth under your fingertips, your frantically beating heart and the vertigo threating to overpower your sense of balance tying you to the reality, screaming at you that this wasn’t just a really fucked-up dream.

You tore the paper down, lump growing in your throat as you looked around for watchful eyes in sudden paranoia of being followed, only to find the hallway deserted aside from you.

Just you and many papers hanging on the walls.

As if you were just a puppet to a spiteful master, your feet carried you to the next leaflet, tears filling your eyes as you found the very same words written on it; a precise copy.

Your breathing picked up a furious pace, your chest crushed under a weight of an invisible elephant stomping on it. The corridor swam in the dampness of your eyes, your mind too quiet and yet screaming with millions of question marks and exclamation points, panic squeezing your lungs, nausea attacking your stomach.

What the hell was happening? Who would do that? Why? What was the goal? Was it just to ruin your triumph?

Because if that was the goal, it was a roaring success; the thousands of questions swirling in your head and the unexpected sting in your heart turned the fact that you had passed an exam into a faint memory.

All you saw was the words.

Rogers’s whore

Was that what you were? Was that how people who knew about the relationship saw you? Was that how Steve saw you?

The highest score for sucking dick

Was that what you were doing? Using Steve’s position to your advantage? Was that how you got through every exam including the one today, even if unwittingly? Was that what Phillips’ little smile had been about?

Hope she’ll soon be eating grass.

Was that a threat? Was someone wishing that happened to you or were they actually about to hurt you? Why?!

Hearing your own wheezing and feeling your fingertips prickling, your foggy mind did the only reasonable thing it could come up with; it led your steps into the nearest bathroom at lightning speed with no regard for how shaky were your feet.

You stumbled into the open stall, smashing the door shut and leaning onto them with your suddenly damp forehead, feeling the cold beads of sweat gather in your hairline, your cheeks drenching in tears.

When did you start crying so hard?

When did the trembling in your limbs begin?

What the fuck was happening?

What-how--why-but-

Your palms rested on the door as you desperately tried and failed to ground yourself and take control of your breathing. Your temples were pounding irritatingly, your gut painfully clenching--- and exactly in that moment that could have lasted a second or an hour, your fingers brushed over a piece of paper stuck on the door.

Darkness curled around your brain like a treacherous friend, another wave of nausea twisting your stomach.

It took you one blurry glance at the paper and you knew precisely what it was, choking on your sob, ripping the offensive poem off and tearing it to pieces which you blindly threw to the toilet, the flushing sound deafening to your ears.

Your shaky legs finally gave out, knees buckling, your body sliding down the stall wall, fingers pulling at your hair as you felt the dizziness engulfing your head, a bitter taste in your mouth.

You gripped tighter, hoping that the pain on the surface would overpower the pain and gaping hole inside, as another violent sob erupted from your throat.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

An eternity later, you felt your whole being float.

Your breathing was still frantic and interrupted with sobs, but a sensation resembling serenity spread in your very core—or perhaps it was just numbness?

You couldn’t seem to be able to tell the difference anymore.

The creak of a door made you cover your mouth to muffle the noises still escaping your lips for the fear of being caught – either being found in this state in general or found as in found by the person who wrote---that – being stronger than the subdued power of your previous breakdown.

It was probably too late for the newcomer to miss your presence, but over the slowly fading ringing in your ears, you could hear a few steps that came to a halt and then they sounded a bit quicker as the woman left.

Thank FUCK. You couldn’t do human interaction of any kind right now.

You removed your hand and breathed out shakily, blinking away the tears.

Shaking your head wildly, you gritted your teeth in a feeble attempt at bolster yourself. You had to get up off your ass and leave before there would be no longer way of avoiding a confrontation – god forbid a confrontation with Steve, who was probably still in a class, testing his own students.

You climbed to your feet, wiping the remains of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand and went to fix your ruined make-up, hopefully enough to look little less suspicious when walking through the campus.

It was probably a vain effort, because you were a walking epitome of a mess.

Rogers’s whore, sounded in your ears and you shook your head again, inhaling sharply through your mouth.

It was time to run and then break down again at the dorms. With Penny preferably--or did she think you were a whore too? You were fucking a professor after all-

Stop that!

Penny wasn’t like that. She understood. She’d be willing to listen all about this outrageous act of terror and would sympathize. Right?

Yeah, you’d talk about it with Penny, your amazing friend, who needed a celebration and a very generous amount of alcohol, which happened to be exactly what you needed too.

Yep, that sounded pretty good.

With one last determined glance on your horrible reflection in the mirror, you headed out.

The door nearly hit you in the face on its way back as you threw it open and froze in the doorway.

You did not expect to see someone so soon after leaving your improvised safe space… let alone him.

“Prof-professor Wilson,” you choked out, clearing your scratchy throat as he stood there, unmistakably waiting for you.

Because that was what you needed at the moment. The university counsellor and professor of psychology in one person.

Fuck.

He said you name in a mild tone, almost as if trying to tame a wild animal, but not quite – all his voice made you feel was shame at getting caught. And a bit of anger at the whole fucking world, because why couldn’t you have a tiny piece of peace after seeing that? Just a little shred of luck, huh?!

Oh, right, you were a whore who were only using Professor Rogers, paying for it in sexual favours.

“Mind if we talk in my office for a bit?”

“Not like I really have a choice…” you mumbled automatically, the realization of how rude it sounded dawning to you oh too slowly, your brain too tangled up in a web of self-pity and self-loathing. “Sorry. Of course. Lead the way.”

“Good. Thank you,” he replied, appearing unoffended. “And for the record, you do have a choice.”

Hadn’t you been a wreck with burning tear-stained cheeks, your face might have felt hotter at the kind remark.

At the slowest pace possible, you followed Professor Wilson to his office, dread and exhaustion filling every fibre of your being.

You noticed however that the walls that had been lined with odes about you, put up for everyone to see, had disappeared; possibly Wilson’s own work.

Somehow, it didn’t make you feel much better, the image of the previous addition to the corridors’ decor stuck in your brain. But hey, it was supposed to be the thought that counted, right?

And Professor Wilson was a nice guy. He offered you a drink – sadly a non-alcoholic one – attempted a joke saying that no, it was no trouble getting you one, which was the reason he offered.

Generally, he treated you as if he wanted to provide you with a safe space.

And then he kindly told you that he knew about the poem, because his cousin who’s in her first year here at the uni, texted him what the heck was the e-mail she received on her uni account about.

In other word, he gently broke to you that whoever had done this possibly sent it to every student in the database too.

You nearly threw up hearing that; the pit you had climbed up from and of which edge you were balancing, deepened. But you didn’t fall back there.

Yet.

It was probably because you were still too shocked at the information.

“I hate asking that question, but do you have any idea who did this?” Wilson asked quietly and you had nothing but a helpless shake of a head for a reply. You felt your vision blurring, dizziness fogging your brain again. “Can you think of anyone who holds a grudge against you for some reason?”

A scoff escaped your lips, cynical as you found the answer obvious from the verses.

“Besides dating Steve, you mean?” you noted sarcastically. Wilson waited for more, his eyebrows twitching in surprise and expectation before he got it under control. “Sorry, I meant Professor Rog-“

“Hey, you can call him Steve,” he assured you, so damn sweet and diligent. “I met him, you know, I’d go as far as calling him a friend. And right here, right now, he is not your professor, but your boyfriend. I’m talking to you as a counsellor so feel free to call me Sam if you’re comfortable. And to answer your question, I assume that it is as good motive as any, but the fact that the two of you are dating is practically a public knowledge at this point, so it doesn’t really narrow our field of suspects.”

Despite his openness and kind approach, you once again could only shrug, growing desperate by the minute. The urge to leave – because suddenly it made even more sense, him taking you here, he was friends with Steve, he was stalling – became unbearable.

You didn’t have the strength to see Steve now. You couldn’t. You would question every gesture, analyse everything and perhaps came to the conclusion that he agreed with the author of the poem and you desperately didn’t want that. You needed to forget about this, preferably with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, you needed to cry some more, you needed ice-cream and a hug and to bitch about everything and you needed a fucking nap that would last at least a week.

“I don’t know who hates me that much, I swear. Can I please go now?”

Sam cocked his head to side, a minute frown creasing his brows. “Is that what you want?”

Do you really want to leave before Steve gets a chance to get here?

You should probably feel guilty. You wanted to feel guilty, because that was you being a coward and it was downright mean to Steve, who would no doubt learn about this very soon and from someone else, but you didn’t have the capacity to think about anything at all besides feeling like you were going to explode any second.

“Yes. Thanks for being nice and all, but I—I’d rather go.”

“You have a roommate? A friend you live with and who’s in?” he fussed, voice gravely, amiable chocolate eyes observing you with worry. Did he think you were about to hurt yourself? Did you look like the type? Were you? You mentally shook your head. Jesus.

“Yeah,” you creaked, already rising to your feet, endlessly grateful that he was letting you go. “Penny. We— uhm, we were supposed to go celebrating.”

You nearly choked on the last word, feeling like everything but going out tonight. The idea of going out and facing all the stares cause by the widely-spread e-mail made your stomach clench.

You kinda lost the appetite to celebrate anything to begin with; all the relief and joy, which had filled every last bit of your being post-learning your grade, vanished and was replaced by a dark sticky substance filling your lungs, your gut, your veins, muffling the outside world.

Perhaps Penny would agree to a loud night in?

“You can still do that, that’s up to you. But please, get some sleep and don’t be alone. Here,” he stood up as well, handing you a card. “My number, even if you just need to talk to a sort-of outsider and word-vomit all over someone, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with his offer – you had a feeling you’d vomit soon, either verbally or literally. Still, you charmed a shaky smile that probably turned out a grimace.

“K. Thanks… Sam.”

“Any time.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Of course, Wilson’s unspoken question about moving quick to avoid an encounter with certain professor was painfully on point.

You bailed on Steve whom you were supposed to wait for even if just for a hug and congratulations, practically running to the dorm, your unsteady feet and tears still clouding your vision be damned.

You ignored the ringing of your phone, assuming it was Steve himself; bile rose to your throat at the idea of hearing his voice at that moment. He tried twice before you smashed the power button and threw the phone back to your purse, breathing out in relief and wanting to puke at the same time.

You truly couldn’t find the capacity to deal with him momentarily – you needed to be alone and safe from any prying eyes, preferably in the comfort of your shared dorm with Penny. You cried harder when you finally reached it, your feet hurting from attempting to run in heels.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that Penny somehow already knew, probably from the e-mail – it was written all over her face. And hadn’t her expression been enough, instead of a celebratory champagne she handed you a shot of a transparent liquid the moment you opened the door.

You turned it bottoms up without questioning it and asked for another. Penny grabbed the bottle of vodka waiting on the shoe rack and poured one for you and one for herself. You didn’t bother clinking the glasses.

Though the burn in your throat felt pleasant, it did nothing to sooth the burn in your eyes and heart. Penny’s embrace made it a bit better.

So did the third shot of vodka.

You didn’t switch on your phone that day again – and when it was nearing midnight, after a four-hour nap, you convinced Penny to go celebrate to the Freddy’s as you had originally planned to do. You pretended that no one stared at you and instead you danced and drank until your mind was swimming enough for the sorrow and anger to drown.

You were one lucky bitch to have Penny walk you home.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve was sitting at his desk at the faculty office he shared with Bucky and was working hard at what he excelled at for these past days despite his genuine efforts at not doing so; getting absolutely nothing done at all.

His hands had grown somewhat unsteady, a reflection of how he was feeling, how torn and absurdly broken he had become. He was spilling drinks on a regular basis, items kept falling from his flimsy hold. His brain felt foggy these days as well, most likely a consequence of the shitty sleep he was getting.

His bed felt too big despite his rather large frame and too cold despite his body temperature usually running almost too high; the sheets smelled strange and foreign despite being his own and the bed screamed with emptiness on a volume that kept interrupting his already deficient sleep.

Four days.

Four days since one stupid poem knocked his world out of its orbit and everything that mattered crashed down. Well, perhaps not everything, Steve happened to like his job too and he still had it, but such detail seemed insignificant; it certainly did in comparison to the fact that he had been attempting and had failed to reach you.

Calls.

Texts.

Few e-mails when he felt particularly helpless and frustrated.

His messed up sleeping and eating schedule and the irregularity that came with the exam period would make a perfect case of him losing any notion of time – yet Steve knew about every second without you, practically counting them.

He could still see Sam Wilson standing outside the classroom he had been testing students’ knowledge in as if it happened yesterday. He could recall with painfully stark clarity the unreadable expression on his face and the ominous “Steve, man… we need to talk.”

Steve still remembered Tony Stark waltzing in the next day with a baby in some sort of a front backpack, agitated that someone had gotten into the database, let alone to send all the hate-emails, and how he announced he found the culprit and their accomplices in an hour, which apparently happened to be too long to his liking.

Steve would smile at the memory of the technical genius’ antics, but the gaping hole in his chest caused by the deafening silence from you prevented it. Hell, not even the vivid picture of Carol Danvers from the faculty of law, moonlighting like a member of the legal department of the university, made the corners of his lips rise.

And hadn’t it been quite a show, a downright uplifting experience.

Steve was watching the screen with a frown, a stone-solid clench to his jaw and a firm clench to his fists.

It was almost amusing really; Bucky kept going about Fury being a creep and not a spy, but despite the lack of a one-way glass, the space Carol and the girl was in – just like two other rooms, each with one man – resembled an interrogation room. Steve never had been more grateful for audio and video feed in his life, but he sure as hell wasn’t laughing in delight at being proved right.

In fact, it had been taking all of his willpower not to burst into those rooms and give a piece of his mind to every single person guilty of being involved in hurting you. In causing his life to collapse on itself.

Steve couldn’t quite recall the brunet Carol was roasting, but he suspected he had seen her in one of the classes he was teaching. She didn’t stand out from the crowd of students and he didn’t see anything special about her worth remembering; then again, he tended to forget to take notice of other pretty faces ever since he had laid his eyes on yours.

And right now, all he saw was a face of a vicious bitch who forced you into pushing him away and a single look at her had his blood boiling.

Steve truly wanted to punch the living daylights of her and that said something, because he prided himself in having moral objection to hitting women, especially from sheer anger.

However, the desire was growing with each piece of information he learned. Because Yvonne Whatever-Is-Her-Name was a piece of work for fucking certain.

She talked a guy number one, whom she was attending Introduction to Social Studies 101 and who had a very apparent teenage-like crush on her, into reaching out to his friend, guy number two, whom he often played some online video game with, into hacking the database, sending the e-mails and finding out when and where exactly your exam was, just so Yvonne herself could redecorate the corridors and bathroom and make sure you wouldn’t miss her work of art.

Carol was alternating between visiting each of the ‘suspects’ and man, did they sing like birds.

Steve wanted to strangle them all, but fuck, the hatred for Yvonne Burton specifically was already consuming him and gnawing at his very soul; yes, he found out her last name just so he knew his mortal enemy. He was going to burn her to the ground, one way or the other… not that Carol hadn’t been doing a fine job so far.

That damn brunet had tears running down her face, sobbing occasionally, but still rarely sassing back. Somehow, seeing her like that wasn’t half as satisfying as Steve hoped, because his mind kept wandering to you and wondering if you looked about the same and every time such picture formed in his head, he hated Ms.Burton a fraction more.

She had used a guy who liked her, which Carol blatantly pointed out. The lawyer didn’t seem to hold back her own snark if the question about how the culprits met – via some forum for bruised ego, was it? – was anything to go by.

“I might be a lawyer, but I’m begging for every art professor and author I know – stay away from poetry. What you wrote is a child’s rhyme really, but like every writing, it says a lot about who you are. And it gives me a plenty of ammunition. We have two names, one full, one last name pointing out a specific person from the context. If I play my cards right, we have defamation on our hands, libel to be precise. Congratulation,” Carol remarked in a surprisingly calm voice. The other woman visibly paled. Good. “And what about the last line? Is that… is that a threat of violence? I can make it harassment, but if I try hard enough, perhaps we can consider it something more serious…?”

“You don’t get to threaten me! You’re lying! I’ve done nothing wrong and so serious!” the girl – and really, in Steve’s eyes, she was nothing but a stupid girl who somehow managed to kick his life in its balls – exploded, jumping to her feet.

Carol levelled her with a glare and an irritated hiss. “Sit down.” Burton did, clammy hands curled up in trembling fists. “And you’ve done more than enough.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Oh don’t I? Be my guest then. Explain it. Your motivation, the legal side, anything. I’m all ears.”

“I love him!” the girl exclaimed and Steve grinded his teeth as a surge of rage shooting through his veins.

Like fucking hell she did. He didn’t remember even talking to her if he ever had to start with and she loved him?!

Was that really what this was about? This girl somewhat liked him and got obsessed? Decided to wreck his girlfriend? To what end? To drive the two of you apart? To make you hate him so he would run to her? To simply ruin your future? What the fuck was wrong with her?! She was a damn kid with hurt pride and zero efforts put in so far, because he couldn’t even remember her-

“Oh you really don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have done this,” Carol responded with a cold edge to her voice, apparently agreeing with Steve’s thoughts and being equally unimpressed with Ms.Burton dramatic confession.

“I’m fighting for him! Ain’t nothing wrong-”

Oh Steve would argue with that so hard. He could feel Sam watching him from the corner of his eye, but neither of them said anything as Steve gripped the edge of the table the monitors were on.

He was sure he was going to be sick, the edge of his vision doing something he only read about; as if truly turning red, crimson with hunger for blood. He never ever craved tearing someone in half, not a single one of the guys who bullied him in school, not the girls that laughed at him when he said he liked them; and make no mistake, he had always felt mad enough.

But right now, he tasted undiluted rage and it tasted like acid with a bitter aftertaste of iron and copper, searing hot on his tongue and spreading through his body, turning it heavy and nauseatingly light at the same time.

“No, you’re ruining his life,” Carol emphasized, leaning onto the table and glaring murder at the girl. “If this is your idea of fighting for someone, it’s pretty twisted. You could have done literally anything to make him notice you, hell, pick you, but leave if he still said no, because that’s a sensible thing to do. But instead, you hurt someone he cared about. And that means you hurt him too – not to mention that his name is in there, possibly putting a scrap on his reputation. If you did love him, you’d want him to be happy.”

Steve gulped and looked away, unable to bear the weight of Carol’s words, feeling the jab on his own person. Because he was familiar with being accused of ruining someone’s life and future despite seemingly loving them. God knew that on a rainy day, he wondered about his own ‘love’ and its purity too – and now, it was fucking pouring and Steve had been forced to question everything he knew.

Was this little brunet Satan a godsend in fact? Was she supposed to tell him to stop lying to himself about not being your doom? Just what kind of a mess this stunt would have made had you been working a steady job and this got to your employer?

A gentle hand reached for his shoulder, a silent support, and Steve found himself torn between irritated, grateful and deeply ashamed.

No matter how much he hated it, he should be on the list to get punched for hurting you too.

“So, sorry to break it to you, but you don’t love him,” Carol continued and with Sam’s palm on his shoulder, Steve forced himself to watch the scene, the grand finale. “You’re just a little girl with attitude issues, a crush that got out of hand, and a ton of luck for knowing a guy willing to help you. Guess what – you just ran out of that luck.”

Heavy silence fell on the interrogation room and Steve’s eyes slid shut, hearing Carol and Yvonne’s parting words.

“And just so you know, she didn’t get the highest score. She got a B.”

Steve didn’t even know that and despite all the shit they were in, he felt a surge of pride for his g- hopefully still his girl.

At the same time, the fact that he learned it from Carol and not from you as he still couldn’t reach you, felt like a punch to his solar plexus.

Carol entered the monitoring room with a discontent expression on her face, wordlessly telling Steve and Sam that the conversation, no matter how harsh, wasn’t satisfying enough.

Still, Steve glanced at her and nodded with severity.

“Thank you, Carol,” he rasped, surprised by how hoarse his own voice sounded; for the burn of rage in his stomach and the tension in his muscles, he almost forgot about the lump gradually growing in his throat with each hour of silence from you.

“My damn pleasure,” Carol huffed with slight irritation, one clearly not aimed at Steve. She subtly raised her eyebrows. “I kinda want to punch her, but I guess I’m not the only one, huh?”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes, his hands almost shaking with the said need. Still, it was surprisingly relieving to be called out on that and to learn that he wasn’t the only one. And when he opened his eyes again, the look on Carol’s face told him that she wasn’t blaming him one bit.

“You have no fucking idea, I- Jesus, I never wanted to—to-- so much in my life.“

The rise of one corner of her lips was sympathetic. “We’ll handle this, Steve. I know it’s hard to hear, but you can’t really help us here. Go home. Rest.”

The lump in Steve’s throat grew nearly suffocating at the idea of going to the empty apartment, where his uselessness became even more evident. Steve eyed Sam, searching with hope for any sign of a better advice, but the counsellor only nodded to second Carol’s thought.

“Go home and try to call your girl. She’ll pick up eventually.”

At that time Steve had done exactly that – however, the result had remained identical to those with his previous attempts. You hadn’t picked up and he had left a voicemail and a pathetic text that somehow seemed to be reflecting all of his insecurities and doubts about your relationship and it hadn’t turned out at all as he had planned – and then it had been too late to take it back.

He had sent another and another, almost hour after hour and he was gradually realizing that he was forgoing all hope and his faith in what you two had and what it could become in the future; and god, did he want the future so badly.

But he couldn’t always get what he wanted, could he? He thought that a miracle had happened when he had first met you and later heard your yes to the date. But here you were.

Four days from that terrible incident.

Did Steve even believe that you two were supposed to be together? He didn’t even know anymore. Perhaps it was an intervention from some higher power and you two breaking apart was meant to be, saving you a heartbreak and disillusions which were about to come later.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought and the sensation that felt like a punch to his gut, his insides cramping.

That was not true. You two loved each other. You had found something truly amazing in each other and you were about to reach out to him any minute so you could continue to your brighter future together.

…right?

Except a minute passed by and nothing happened, the phone Steve was toying with remaining silent.

No received text or e-mail.

No incoming call.

Another minute and then another ten, the phone still spinning in his hand in almost a reflex at that point and still not lighting up.

The knot in Steve’s gut turned tighter and tighter, the tension in his shoulders and jaw growing, his mantra of you surely contacting him gradually falling silent.

Finally, he came to the decision that only fools kept doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.

He was supposed to do that a long long time ago, the moment he had convinced himself that coming knocking on your dorm could be considered harassment… and would break his heart in case you’d shut the door to his face telling him you were done with him.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Steve swept through his contacts and dialled your best friend and roommate in one person.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 2

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading!

Let me know what you thought! I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ doing something with randomly timed shots to a series, so… you know. I’m a bit nervous. And I guess that this is very different from what this series was so far too, so I hope it’s okay. Thank you :-*

237 notes · View notes

dramagguks · 4 years

Text

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 & 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 : yoongi x reader || fluff and a tiny bit of angst

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 3.1k

𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : yoongi had never been brilliant at talking about his emotions and feelings openly. so, when he realises he’s in love with you, he tells you it through different colours, rather than saying those three words out loud.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : yoongi is just an awkward shy kultz, mutual pining, very brief mentions of sex, mentions of argments and swearing

—

You knew a man, who went by the name of Min Yoongi (Yoons, or Yoongles, to some others, although he despised being called Yoongles). A shy man who took pride in his work and everything he did, holding it all to the highest of standards, wanting to show that he was as smart as a whip. And he was. He worked in an old music store, but before working there, it used to be one of his favourite places to go, and he was the shops most valued customer. Who else would spent hours on end, admiring the equipment, and the all the racks of vintage vinyl's that begged to be taken home? If it wasn't for the rising and setting of the sun everyday, he could stay there forever, that's if such a time frame even existed. But forever felt a mere moment when he was in the shop.

He loved the smell of the shop, as odd as it sounds - the cedar wood smell that hit him every time he walked through the large door, then greeting his boss, Jun, with a wide smile. Sometimes, he’d even bring a paper for Jun to read while he sat in the back. Although Yoongi was extremely introverted, and shy to the highest degree, working at the shop had brought out the best in him. It was almost therapeutic helping people find what they were looking for, trying not to vomit out his words when someone asked him about something he was rather interested in. Instead, he kept a calm face and spoke gently, with professionalism, albeit throwing a few fun facts in for the customer. Even Jun could see that Yoongi made the shop so much more warm, and vibrant, like a lit candle, blazing in the depths of a deep and dark cave.

Though, his favourite part of working in the shop, was seeing you walk through the door everyday, around lunchtime. He wasn't able to hide his shy and pretty gummy smile, when you had got his café order right. An iced americano, with a lot of ice because he liked to chew it once the caffeine was all gone, a chicken and cheese panini (extra toasted so it was still hot by the time you arrived), and a croissant to snack on for the rest of the day.

You wouldn't forget his order though, he was too particular about certain things that you didn't want him to spiral. Plus, the two of you had been best friends for years, so you knew every single one of his orders off by heart.

His heart felt warm whenever he saw you, grin dancing on your cheeks.

If he was going to be honest, when he sat down with you at lunch, his hands got a bit clammy, and he felt shy. Not because you were intimidating or mean, no, you were just as soft as he was, it’s because he was in love with you. He had been for a lot of the years the two of you had been friends. He could barely be around you without doing something ridiculously clumsy. Like one night, you had gone to his house for dinner - a takeaway meal because you were a terrible cook, and although Yoongi was a good one, he felt like takeaway was just the better option. He had sat with you on the couch, watching Game Of Thrones, and got too much into it, and accidentally spilt his wine all in his lap. A blush had settled on his soft and round cheeks, clearly embarrassed for being such a klutz in front of you, but you didn't mind, you thought it was endearing, in a ‘red wine staining your grey sweats’ kind of way.

He had waddled to his room, tail between his legs, and changed into a fresh pair of sweats, not refilling his wine, and keeping his next drink, which was a glass of peach flavoured soju, at a safe distance.

Yoongi had never expected to fall in love with you though, because he thought you were always going to remain one of his best friends, and you thought that too. But the feeling was mutual, the two of you both pining over each other secretly, only telling one other person - Kim Namjoon, a scholar, one of the smartest men you both knew, and a shared best friend between you and Yoongi.

Namjoon loved the fact that you both went to him for advice and support, but he wanted to smack you both upside the heads for being so stupid.

You were both so clearly in love with each other, but just couldn't admit it.

It was frustrating for you, knowing that you were so helplessly in love with the shy man who you had become so accustomed to, but not being able to do anything. You weren't scared, you were always open with your feelings, sometimes having no filter and just saying whatever you were thinking in that moment. But with Yoongi, it was so much more complicated. He didn't know how to handle his own emotions, as he wasn't the greatest at handling affection, for he had grew up in a home that was loving, just not affectionate. Him being shy didn't help his case either, so, you decided on not telling him. You didn't want to be too full on and scared him off, and instead just became one with your feelings. It would happen one day though, but you couldn't help but feel selfish for wanting that day to hurry up.

All you wanted to do was tell him how much you loved him, and how much you wanted him to be yours. But you couldn't, you had to play the long, waiting game.

Loving him was liberating though, as he wasn't the usual man a woman would go for. He hated the club scene, and would much rather stay at home with a glass of wine, or just crawl into bed and sleep the night away, and a lot of the nights you would join him, feeling safe in his embrace. The two of you always had lunch together, almost like a tradition now, and although you see each other everyday, the conversation never fell short. You always had something to talk about, whether that be the weather, or what one of the customers had asked for that day, it was always something. He had taken you on holiday once, a getaway to Jeju in a gorgeous rental house, the sea in view from the windows, just so Seoul was far away for a while, and so were all your troubles. That's when you kissed him for the first time.

His lips were soft, like velvet, and his skin was on fire under your hands. It was all he had been waiting for, to finally feel your lips against his. There was no real rush when you kissed him, taking things slow and savouring the precious and intimate moment.

Yoongi wanted to tell you how much he loved you too, feeling like he owed it to you, after leaving you in the dark, because it was so painfully obvious how much the two of you loved each other. He knew that you loved him, and you knew that he loved you. A confusing and sometimes annoying spiral, but, neither of you had seemed to mind all that much. But, he couldn't let it go. He didn't sleep that much, often finding comfort in being awake during the early hours of the morning, when the sun is almost ready to rise and people are just starting to get ready for work. That's when he thought the most, about how much he loved you, but how scared he was to let you know. He didn't want things to change, fearing that once you knew, it would all be different. Although the two of you already acted like you were a couple, saying those three words out loud made it seem so much more real, and he didn't know if he was ready for that. He hated not being fully capable of doing something so grand as confessing his love for you, but he could wait. He was a patient man.

He had ways of showing his love for you though, and that funny way, was by using colours.

There was a purple blanket, that he had bought you for your birthday one year. It was supposed to be a silly gift, as all you did was complain about how cold you were, finding it difficult to warm your body up, and no matter how many hugs Yoongi showered you with, nothing seemed to work. So, before coming to your house for the annual movie night, he had stopped off at a furniture store, having a look around at something that could help you. He felt like a madman, walking around the shop aimlessly, touching every blanket he could find to see if it felt okay, or if the material was itchy. He didn't miss the way the assistants eyed him up though, probably wondering why he was acting so odd. Yoongi had almost given up on looking for decent blanket, and just when he was walking out of the shop, he spotted a rack of purple, weighted blankets. “Perfect,” he had muttered in triumph, but almost falling over when he took one off the shelf, He forgot how heavy the blankets could be. But that was it, he had found the perfect present for you.

He had arrived at your house, after dousing the blanket in his aftershave so it would smell like him (he knew you were a sucker for his aftershave, after he had found a bunch of his hoodies missing from his room after you stayed over). With a tiny, tiny sense o pride in his chest, he had handed you the blanket, with a soft kiss on your forehead too. You had felt your heart swell, almost wanting to cry at his small gesture, telling him that you loved the blanket. He was happy, and before you knew it, the two of you were asleep on the couch, the large blanket draped over the both of you, both Yoongis embrace and the weight of the blanket making you feel more safe then ever.

Since then, you've used the blanket every day. It stopped smelling like Yoongi after a while, but he was more than happy to put even more aftershave on it. His scent help you slept, because it was so warm and comforting, and the blanket smelling like him was just a bonus. You took it everywhere with you, like when you and Yoongi went on a road trip, you took it with you then. You had fallen asleep in the front of the car, in the passengers seat, shaking in your tired state as the AC was on, but Yoongi was too hot to turn it off. So, he pulled over and got the blanket from the back, placing it over you, and then gently kissing your head when you stirred in your sleep. He didn't want to sound so smug, but the blanket was one of the best things he had ever given you, although it was just a blanket.

Then there was black mixtape cover, that just so happened to be Yoongis own mixtape.

Outside of work, and behind closed doors, Yoongi was quite the rapper, He liked to say that it was his alter ego, something that made him feel powerful, that made him feel different to the shy Yoongi that everyone around him knew, Agust D was the name for his rap side, a name fit for a king, and a king he was when it came to spitting bars and making his music, Despite acting to shy and coy a lot of the time, his tongue was sharp and dirty, formulating sentences that had girls weak at the knees, and men wishing they were him. Although his songs sounded dirty, and the lyrics were harsh, every single song was written for you.

You were his muse, the one that kept him going when the nights felt dark, and when he felt more alone than ever. He had only let you inside the ‘genius lab’ once, not wanting you to see too much of the world that felt like his own, but you loved it in there. It was so quintessentially Yoongi - a basketball jersey hanging off of the desk chair that sat at a large desk, a few bottles of whiskey on one of the many shelves, and a lot of recording equipment. He had wrote his first song about you in there, a beautiful piano medley that he coined as ‘first love.’ It was when he first started realising that he was in love with you, and he needed to open up to himself about his feelings, and the only way to do that was through making music. The song spoke about his unshakeable feelings for you, and this aching and burning desire that kept him awake at night. It spoke about your first kiss, and where you had met, but most importantly, what loving you felt like - it was everything he wanted and so much more.

First love made it onto the mixtape, showing his most vulnerable side that he didn't always like showing, The lyrics made it so obvious that the song was about you, so as you listened, you couldn't help but cry. He had done this all for you, the song saying what he wasn't able to.

And finally, there was a pink sparkly pen, that didn't seem like much, meant a lot more to you then people would expect.

Of course, you and Yoongi didn’t always see eye to eye on things, often clashing and arguing. Though, he never raised his voice, as it was rare for him to ever speak in such a volume, he always kept his baritone voice soft and quiet. But one night, the two of you had this dreadful fight in his living room, you on the verge of tears. You hadn't seem him much, and you missed him, but Yoongi didn't feel he same way, and he spoke to you like he was fed up of you. And you didn't want to stay somewhere where you didn't feel wanted, so after what felt like another 20 minutes of arguing, you tried to up and leave, but Yoongi stopped you. It had been raining, quite hard and he didn't want you to walk home and end up catching a cold, so he offered to drive you home. You refused at first, not wanting to be near him, but he didn't give up, so in the end, you gave in and had accepted his offer. He left you downstairs, allowing you to calm yourself down, as he went upstairs to give you some room.

While he was up there, he scrambled for a pen and paper, and he found both, but unfortunately, the pen was pink and sparkly, but it was all he had in that moment. He wrote up a letter, not taking too long because he didn't want you to be down there alone for ages. Once he was done, he grabbed one of his hoodies and took the letter with him, and went back downstairs to you. After a moment, the two of you were bundled into his car, on a silent drive to your house.

You arrived at your house, the silence suffocating, and left the car without a firm goodbye. You’d more than likely see him in a couple of days to sort things out, so a goodbye wasn't really needed. He stayed outside your house, watching until the living room light switched on, and once he knew that you were safe, he drove off, feeling empty that you weren't coming back with him. You went to pull his hoodie off, that he had kindly let you wear, and as you did, something fell out of the pocket. Confused, you had bent down to pick it up, and when you unfolded it, you were met with the pink words that said ‘dear (Y/N), please read this.’

That bastard was so sly, but as much as you wanted to throw the letter away, you just couldn't.

So, you got under your purple blanket and started to read.

He knew you had read it, because you had turned up early the next morning, and he pulled you straight into his arms. He felt like a prick for treating you so coldly, so the first thing he did was apologise for acting like he didn't care, because it was so clear that he did. A blind man would be able to see how much he loved and cared about you. He kissed the top of your head, taking you to the living room where he lay down with you, and you felt content.

Just before Yoongi could fall asleep with you safely in his arms, you cracked a joke about the sparkly pink writing, that had the both of you laughing.

After that, he used that damned pen for everything, feeling it was too precious to let go of. He took it to work with him, to scribble on the customers receipts, he went to the convenience store to refill on the ink cartridges so they would never run out. He wrote you notes with it, and the most important thing to you was that he wrote his lyrics with it, all his dark lyrics in sparkly pink ink.

In the grand scheme of things, to any other person, the blanket, the mixtape cover and the pen may not seem special, but they meant everything to you and Yoongi. He loved that the blanket he bought you made you so happy, and that it helped you sleep better, and that his mixtape brought you great comfort and had you feeling like you were on cloud nine. That the inside joke about the pink pen made you laugh still, and left many other people confused. Yoongi made you so much more happier, seeing him was enough to put a huge smile on your face, and being with him felt safe. It felt like home. He was your home. His smile gave you reassurance, his soft voice that offered kind words that rolled off his tongue with ease, were enough to put your mind at ease. And his kisses were to die for as he kissed you so gently, like you were a porcelain doll that could break into tiny pieces at the slightest touch.

You loved him so much, and he you.

And although the two of you weren't ready to say those three words yet, the purple blanket, the black mixtape cover, and the pink pen were all signs that he loved you more than you could ever know, and that was all you needed.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi scenarios #bts fic #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts fanfic #bts fluff #btswritersclub

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chick-from-nz · 3 years

Text

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 10)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (slowburn?)

WARNINGS: swearing, military talk/slang. Carrillo will not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC. awkwardly written moments, flippy floppy points of view. OC’s are back baby. Sexaul tones/actions. Swapping between metric and imperial units lol

AUTHORS NOTE: holy hecka team im sorry for how long this took for me to get out, honestly this is just a whole heap of word vomit, barely any plot lol, Ash and Henry are not related so don't worry about anything weird going on, i swear i have an addiction to the coffee cup (IYKYK), might have accidentally repeated a scene from a previous chapter lol. hope y'all enjoy

WORD COUNT: 7k (yeah idk how i wrote this much)

CHAPTER: 10 OF ?

TAG LIST (OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

The week continued without a hitch, while the tension between the two officers continued to grow, the awkwardness that occurred after their last incident never returned, a somewhat confusing signal that to Ash meant that the relationship between the two of them had changed for the better, at least that's what she predicted. She had lost count of the amount of times her mind had wandered back to the steamy moment in the kitchen,that and she often woke from her dreams wound up and teetering on the edge of release. She almost wished she had had the guts to push the bounds of the relationship and defile the kitchen that day, but she was sure that with the ever mounting tension between them that one day her wish might just come true

The outside loop of the property had become her best and latest distraction. Every morning she woke at the crack of dawn to run at least a few laps of her personally carved out track, exhausting both mind and body and taking her thoughts off the hunky officer that she shared a house with. While the runs were a peaceful place to clear her mind she couldn’t deny that her thoughts would reflect on the small moments shared between herself and her commanding officer since their jarring encounter in the kitchen. From the subtle brush of his hand against hers when she’d deliver him one of his many coffees throughout the day, to the soft wandering touch of his fingers along her hip as he made his way round her in the kitchen to grab something, each little thing seemed to have a more than professional meaning to the young officer now, it was as if there was an unspoken agreement that a line had been crossed, but neither one of them was ready to push the boundary to the extent they had once before, something that both frustrated and baffled her to no end.

It was times like now, as she was running meters deep in the tree line, dodging branch after branch, that she wished she had the courage to go back in the gym. Her body still had tremors whenever she thought of working out, it seemed, much to her dismay, that the assault many weeks ago in the base gym had scared her to her core, an upsetting thought at that.

Shaking herself from her thoughts Ash urged her legs to move faster, running at a speed akin to her level before the assault, many things were taken from her that day, the biggest loss she found was her fitness. There was nothing Ash loved more than working her body to the point of exertion and then pushing it just that little bit further, now she was lucky to even get half of her usual routine in before she was crouched in the grass hurling up whatever was in her stomach, or clutching her side that was sparking in varying degrees of pain depending on the day.

Head spinning and stomach clenching she made her way back to the house at a moderate speed, only slowing when she had to key in her code to the front door to make her way inside. She made quick work of showering and getting ready for the day before heading to the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on and wait for the Colonel to get up for his day, something that was now a comforting routine for her. It seemed, like most mornings, that Ash would not be waiting long for her commanding officer to make an appearance from his office.

It was as if the smell of coffee brought the aforementioned man from his room, as a mere few moments after the first cup was poured he graced Ash with his presence. The joys of living away from the rules and regulations of base and being the commanding officer of his own unit meant that the dress standards of a regular operation did not apply for the currently unnamed task force he had in play. While ranks and marks of respect were still very much ingrained in the team, albeit questionably with the junior officer currently in his presence, the standards he once held so high were relaxed in this environment. The states of dress were not complete uniform or daily working rigs, but instead were that of an office rig. While their boots were still polished to the highest of standards and their pants ironed pristinely their working shirts were foregone and replaced with that of a dark green t-shirt with the insignia of their respective ranks printed on the right side of their chest and ‘army’ printed on the left side of their chest.

While many of the force would remark that every soldier looked their best in the ceremonial dress uniform above all else; Ash would say that she much preferred this look on the Colonel. While he still carried the grace and posture of a man who earned his rank it was nice to see him in a seemingly more relaxed state, although Ash was sure that would change when the rest of the team arrived and their sanctity of peace would be interrupted when the work actually came rolling in.

She greeted him with a warm smile, holding his fresh cup of coffee out towards him, while her traitorous mind briefly wandered back to the way he had pressed her against the bench and lit the spark to the now raging fire within her days ago. Ash could not conceal the small delighted shiver that wracked her body when his hand briefly covered her own while he procured his cup, nor could she deny the rush of heat that trickled out from where their bodies touched to where she craved it most. She might have thought it embarrassing, if not for the expression on Carrillo’s face which could only be described as a look of pure unadulterated primal desire that he was so obviously trying to suppress.

They worked together in comfortable silence, both knew the routine for breakfast like the back of their hands by now, not much had changed since they had first stepped foot in the house nearly five weeks ago, yes Ash had finally healed and yes there was some odd relationship escalating between the two of them, but nothing felt more right to her than standing side by side with the notorious Colonel Carrillo cooking breakfast and stealing fleeting lust filled glances at him when she was positive she wouldn’t get caught, despite secretly hoping she would.

Ash was first to finish breakfast which was not an unusual feat, whether it from eating ration packs and questionable food for weeks on end in training or just due to the fact that the food Carrillo cooked was some of the best she’d ever had, there was never a meal where food was left on her plate; hungry or not the food was always demolished, his cooking was just that good. Ash gathered her plate and started on the clean up, it was in how she was raised that the cook never did the washing up so with that she never allowed the handsome Colonel help out once he was finished, something he used to protest but now just brushed off with a thankful smile before he grabbed what was left of his coffee and left to his office without a trace.

This morning however went a little bit differently from the rest. Instead of standing from his chair to take his leave Carrillo rounded the bench to stand opposite Ash, while there was maybe a few feet of space between them she was now hyper aware of his presence. If he were to step just that little bit closer to her she could perhaps throw caution to the wind and enact her deepest fantasy; determining how tight of a grasp he really had on that control of his. As if sensing her thoughts the Colonel took a step closer to her. For a moment she dared not breathe, least that be a give away to what she was really feeling, her heart was beating in an erratic melody inside her chest, threatening to burst out and proclaim its desires to the man in question.

Ash jumped when a hand came to rest on the small of her back, it being the last thing she had expected to happen. The searing heat of his palm seeped through the thin layer of her shirt and burrowed deep within her muscles relaxing her more than she'd care to admit. She shot him a wide eyed questioning glance as he settled against her side, a raised brow and a brief half smile was all she got in return as he took a sip of what was left of the coffee in his right hand.

Ash tried to act nonchalant but internally she was battling her thoughts, she was unable to determine if there was some ulterior motive behind his actions or if he was genuinely interested in her but if the rumour mill was anything to go by, he was not the kind of man to fuck around with someone for a selfish reason. Ash just wished there was a way where she could get some kind of definitive reaction from him so she could finally sus out his true motive, what reaction she wanted she wasn’t quite sure but anything was better than their subtle touches and nearly there encounters.

So lost in the mess that was her own thoughts Ash failed to recognise the almost pained thoughtful look on the officers’ face before he closed the rather small gap that was already between them, their bodies now seamlessly slotted against each other in a way that was intimate in ways it shouldn’t be, but craved secretly by the both of them. He was testing boundaries he wasn’t quite sure still even existed between them, he was just far too cautious to step a foot in the wrong direction and make the younger officer uncomfortable, he needed her on the team more than he needed her to be his; at least that's what he told himself.

Ash did not flinch nor shy away from the comforting weight of him against her side, not even when his hand lifted from its welcomed position on her lower back so he could reach around her left side to grab at the coffee pot. It was a move that made Ash want to so desperately cuddle up into his side while his arm was around her like that, there was just something about the quiet confidence and deliberate softness of his actions that drew her in more each day. With a calculated movement he drew his arm back towards himself, stepping briefly away from her to finish pouring his now fresh cup of coffee before once again reaching behind her to replace the glass pot back to its original spot.

Ash felt rather than heard him turn around to lean his back against the bench, she had refocused herself onto the task at hand to not let herself get carried away with the ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’ behind his actions. He was a man of very few words but the intent and weight behind his actions was always methodical and intentional, that was perhaps the only thing that Ash could rely on to find some truth behind his actions. She could feel his eyes on her the entire time she was washing the dishes, the heat of his eyes travelled the length of her body multiple times, stopping in the odd place here and there before continuing on their path. It was now as she was finishing up the final few utensils that she felt his eyes on her face, she felt her face heat up at the thought, no doubt blushing a deep shade if the small huff of amusement from her right was anything to go by.

Ash didn’t glance his way until she felt a few short taps against her hip, when she did glance his way she nearly choked on her own spit. His feet were outstretched with one ridiculously glassy boot hooked over the other, accentuating the length of his legs and showing just how well he filled out the fatigues, in more than one place. His hips were resting against the edge of the bench with his left palm flat on the countertop, coffee cup discarded just a few centimeters away. The way his arm bent accentuated the unbridled strength beneath the skin that was toned from all those years of vigorous work. She was unsure how a man could look so intimidating yet enticing at the same time, all she knew was that if she was given the chance she would let this man further into her life in a heartbeat. When her eyes finally made their way to his face she was met with a smirk and an amused glint in his eye, there was absolutely no denying she had been caught checking him out, but at this point she was beyond hiding it. In the half second she took to admire his face he was already speaking, though she never heard a word of what was said because she was too caught up in the rich honeyed colour of his eyes. It was only when he tapped her hip once more than she snapped out of her trance.

“Ash” he spoke softly, the tone commanding yet captivating, drawing her in, “I’ll be in my officer working on posting forms for the team if you need me..” he trailed off for a moment, seemingly deep in thought before adding “for anything, anything at all” with a flirtatious smirk and a well timed wink. He grabbed his cup off the counter before strutting off in the direction of his office, leaving a stunned wordless Ash standing in the kitchen mouth agape and staring in his direction.

“God do I need you. In my bed. Naked.Preferably” Ash muttered under her breath, silently thanking the gods that the man the comment was directed at had already departed leaving her to run her mouth uncontrollably, like she tended to do around the Colonel. Taking a shaky breath and picking up the dishes to place them away in their respectful places Ash felt her mind wander. There were many a time she had woken from dreams of being pressed against the kitchen counter or his desk while he was balls deep inside her whispering sweet nothings in her ears, but now these little flirty moments were making her want to act on the situations, no matter how unprofessional that may be. She stood up straight from putting a cup away under the counter and was struck with a wave of dizziness, suddenly wary she made her way to the couch lowering herself slowly before closing her eyes to let the room settle. More tired than she though she was she felt herself drift off slowly, this time not fighting it, she definitely needed the rest.

----

The Colonel had to admit to himself that he was getting more and more worked up around the stubborn young officer he resided with. Whether it from her lust filled glances she threw his way when she thought he wasn’t looking, to the subtle fleeting touch she would grant him when handing him files or a new cup of coffee. Each and every little touch and smile she threw his way was getting under his skin, and as much as he prided himself on control and professionalism, he wasn’t sure how much longer each was gonna last around her. There was just something about her that drew him in and made him want to throw out the years of by the book work he had done just for what could be the most rewarding relationship he would ever have.

He had left the kitchen warm all over from her touch, even the briefest brush against her side had been enough to heighten the ever mounting feelings he had for the girl, lust or otherwise. Deciding that doing paperwork in such a worked up state would only serve to make him more frustrated he decided that a workout in the home gym was exactly what he needed, it had already been a few days since his last workout and after cooping himself in his office it was definitely what he needed. As he made his way from his room intent on making it to the gym unnoticed his attention was drawn elsewhere. A soft sleepy sound came from the couch, too quiet for him to hear at this distance so he made slow quiet steps closer, not wanting to make a noise and accidentally wake the sleeping soldier who most definitely needed the rest.

Creeping closer to the noise just might has been his downfall, for when he got closer he noticed the frazzled state the girl was in. she was sweating and rolling round on the couch, seemingly uncomfortable, but just as he went to wake her. He froze. What he heard made his heart race, stomach dip and shorts become uncomfortably tight. The quietly moaned “Carrillo. Sir, please. Harder'' that escaped the sleeping girls’ mouth might have been the sweetest sound he’d heard his whole life. He let out a slow drawn out breath in an attempt to recenter himself, if anyone asked if he was affected by the words that tumbled out her mouth he would deny it at all cost, but his physical reaction to such words was something he couldn’t hide. Grunting lowly as he readjusted himself in his shorts he knew he needed to leave the room, the gym was now calling his name, as was the young officer on the couch before him, but that was a thought he needed to expel from his brain. He spun on his heel and headed for the gym, jamming his headphones in his ears and selecting one of the many pre-made workout playlists he had saved, he needed to focus on something other than the sweet sounds that fell from Ash’s mouth and the very prominent erection he currently had. Losing himself in a workout was the only way he knew how, so thats exactly what he did.

--------

Ash was pretty sure she was stuck in a dream loop when the sounds of her dreams were suddenly plaguing her reality. Muted grunts and groans were echoing throughout the house, bouncing from one wall to the next and sending delighted shivers down her spine and a flurry heat straight to her core. She sat up abruptly, taking in her surroundings, there was only one or two places noises like those belonged, the gym or the bedroom, and given Carrillo’s bedroom door was wide open and she could see that the room was empty it clued her in to the fact that he was in the gym. The sudden bombardment of impure thoughts that clouded her now very awake brain were distracting to say the least, how often did one wake from a dream like she just encountered only for the exact scenario to practically be playing out in reality, whatever force was egging her on really knew how to play on her desires.

Ash pushed up off the couch and wandered towards the gym on shaky legs, whether from the residual gratifying feelings of her dream or the current overwhelming sounds coming from the direction she was heading, she knew she had to get a grip on her feelings before she did something that could be considered dangerous. If Ash didn’t know there was a gym in their current residence she was sure there would be a string of jealousy coursing through her veins right now, the varying depths of the grunt and groans were a melody to her ears, ones she wish she could hear in another kind of physical situation. When she reached the open archway of the gym it was like all the air was sucked from her lungs, the sight before her like a devious punch to the gut.

From where she was standing she had the utmost perfect view of the most virile man she’d ever seen. Drenched in a layer of sweat and huffing out the occasional grunt was Carrillo, delectably shirtless allowing Ash to drool at the tantalizing display of raw strength as the muscles bunched and twisted under his skin. There was no man on earth that could make bench pressing two hundred pounds look as easy as the Colonel did, the bulge of his biceps and bunch of his pecs as he brought the bar down had Ash subconsciously squeezing her legs together at the feelings it invoked in her, no man had the right to be that enticing, neither did the veins in his arms, which somehow seemed to become more prominent after each pass of the bar. Ash was glad for the fact she was leaning against a door frame for she was sure she would have either been on the floor or mounting the man before her if that was not the case.

Ash only knew she had been staring too long when the room suddenly went quiet, so far in a hormone filled trace she had failed to notice her commanding officer stop exercising for a moment and sit up and watch her from his position. She felt the warm caress of his eyes take in her form from across the room, body heating further when she watched his tongue dart out across his lip before he delivered her a mind shattering smirk that made her knees weak and her pussy weaker. She watched as he stood from the bench, smirk still plastered on his face, and made his way in her direction, stopping short a mere few feet away.

From this close Ash was able to watch entranced as a few drops of sweat trailed down from his temple and along the curve of his jaw before dripping onto his chest, flowing over the curved expanse of his pecs and further down his perfectly toned abdomen to the waistband of his shorts. Shamefully, or maybe not, she let her eyes travel just that tad bit lower, barely concealing an unintentional moan of her own as the lasting effects of her dream combined with the tempting god of a man standing before her. Swallowing down the sounds that so desperately were trying to escape her throat she tilted her head back to meet the polished amber eyes of the walking heroine that was Carrillo. The richness of his eyes had been engulfed by the lust blown soulless depth of his pupils which were no doubt a positive reflection of her own enamoured gaze.

They stood there staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity before he finally broke the silence with words that might just haunt her for the rest of her days, “I couldn’t help but overhear, nice dream there was it Ashy” he questioned with an all knowing gaze, a small jolt of pride flowing through him when he realised he had her perfectly pinned down by his words. He watched bemused as multiple emotions crossed the face of the woman before him, her face flushed as she tried to find the appropriate way to address what he had said, but instead she just stood there for a moment gaping like a fish, he almost wanted to make a comment about her using her mouth for something else but decided his previous comment was torture enough.

“Sir, I..., oh my god...” she trailed off, turning to face slightly away from him in an attempt to hide her face, even though she knew he’d already caught her expression, it would be hard not to this close. She had never felt so simultaneously embarrassed yet turned on by a situation, damn him and his stupidly handsome face. Luckily for her it seemed that Carrillo had had enough with his teasing for now as he turned away to move to the open space in the gym, doing a few deliberately slow stretches to catch her eye, before starting on what she guessed was a core workout, not that he needed it from his figure. Frustrated both mentally and physically Ash decided that she too should crack on with a workout to try and let out her tension in a way that didn’t involve jumping the bones of the only other person she lived with and further complicating the already questionable situation they had placed themselves in.

She made her way towards the boxing bag hanging in the corner, stopping to sit down on a lone chair to untie and remove her boots and socks and roll up her pants to a more practical level, she debated briefly on taking off her shirt to workout in just her bra and pants but thought against adding more fuel to the already roaring fire between the two of them. She wrapped her hands with a practiced ease, eyes wandering over to the other side of the room to admire the view while she worked autonomously. It was like the universe was playing a cruel joke on her today as she watched the Colonel move gracefully from situps in to pushups, she could only imagine herself underneath him as he powered through the pushups like they were nothing, her mind, ever the traitor, briefly flashed back to the time she was once underneath him while he was in a similar position, oh how she now wished that towel of his had just slipped off and that damn phone hadn’t rang that day, although she was sure that moment had kickstarted whatever was now lingering between them.

Finished with wrapping her hands and quietly admiring the shirtless hunk across the room Ash got up and began stretching out her muscles, it had been a while since she had done anything more than run around the edge of the property, so a full body workout such as this would do her in if she didn’t warm up her muscles beforehand. She started with a few simple combinations on the bag that she knew like the back of her hand, having practiced since she was only young, from there she slowly increased the amount of punches and kicks per combination, so far in the zone she failed to see Carrillo leave, much to her future disappointment.

She was unsure how long she had been going before an unusual cold feeling overtook her body, the shakes of her muscles were no longer that of exhaustion but that of what she would assume was fear, her vision was tunneling on the bag, heart rate increasing to beyond that of physical labor and onto something more. Stubborn to a fault Ash pushed on, shaking out her arms and legs ever now and then to rid herself of the ghostly feeling. It was after one particularly bone rattling kick that she felt a presence behind her, thinking it was the man of her desires she spun around, only to be met with an empty gym, shaking her head at her own stupidity, she carried on. After the third feeling of someone behind her and Ash checking and failing to find someone she felt her vision darkening, she was dizzy beyond belief, beginning to hyperventilate and shaking all over when she felt herself fall to the floor, seconds before impact she could have swore she heard a male voice whisper “This is for my brother bitch” before she succumbed to the darkness.

--------

A wave of panic shot through the normally emotionally stealed man when he saw the younger officer lying on the floor shaking and babbling. He'd seen similar things before back in Columbia after raids had gone wrong and comrades had been killed, there was no doubt in his mind that the poor girl before him was suffering from flashbacks and potentially even PTSD, something he wouldn’t wish upon anyone with his dying breath. Bending down he carefully scooped Ash up into his arms, being careful not to jostle her and give her a fright, before he hugged her tight to his chest, exaggerating his breaths in an attempt to get hers to even out and match his own.

He made haste for the couch knowing it was one of her safe spaces, the last thing he needed was to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was. Rounding the corner into the lounge and taking a few quick strides into the room Carrillo went to place Ash down on the couch, only to have her cling to him desperately while shaking her head, the flash of pain that crossed her face and the small anguished cry she made had the man’s heart leaping into his throat. He was a man of duty and honor through and through, he looked after any team he commanded to the best of his ability, but seeing this girl, whom he had begun developing feelings for, in such pain was sending him for a loop, something which hasn't happened since he too was a junior officer.

With Ash still bundled in his arms Carrillo snagged the blanket hanging off one of the smaller couches before wrapping it around the girls shoulders in an attempt to warm her up, she was shivering furiously, no doubt in shock from rehashing the trauma of her attack. He slowly lowered himself onto the couch, getting as comfortable as possible, before allowing a still slightly incoherent Ash to settle against his chest. He began slowly rubbing up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her, while whispering sayings in his native tongue that his mother used to use to calm him down as a boy. It took a while but Ash slowly started to breathe normally against him, her shaking ebbed away and the babbling that she had been doing when he found her had disappeared. Even as her body began to relax she made no move to get off his lap or out of his arms, something that signalled her trust in him and also managed to put him at ease.

Ash was hyper aware when she came to, her body was unusually warm on one side and deceptively cold on the other, she took note of the blanket around her shoulders and the strong anchor of an arm wrapped securely around her, providing great comfort when she definitely needed it. Her head was resting comfortably against the strong plane of his shoulder, his breathing seemed deliberately slowed in a far too practiced way, as if he was used to dealing with situations such as this. She cursed herself for being so weak that she needed to be, what she guessed was, carried from one room to the next because she allowed her emotions to get the better of her, a small part of her recognised that this was uncontrollable after the trauma she had faced, but a larger darker part of herself felt ashamed for needing to rely on the comfort of her commanding officers’ arms to calm her frenzied mind and frayed emotions.

Ash swallowed thickly, tears coming to her eyes, as a wave of deep seated shame overtook her senses. She felt bad for Carrillo, he never signed up for looking after a broken soldier like herself, there was no need for him to be so kind to her, maybe it was best she asked to leave the team, lest she make him shoulder the burden that was her broken soul. She made a move to climb from his lap, only to be brought impossibly close to his warmth when the solid weight of his arm tightened momentarily in warning. If there was ever any doubt that she didn’t belong right where she sat then in that moment it was wiped away, such a simple action had her wanting to bare her soul to the man before her, so broken and touch starved she was that she almost laughed at the humility of her thoughts.

She sniffled despite not wanting to show the emotions that were clouding her thoughts, she wanted to be strong in front of her commander, not some weak girl who couldn’t cut it in the force. It seemed that the attack that day in the gym had had more of an affect that anyone really could have imagined, so far the doctors had left her in the capable hands of her CO, not that she was complaining, but there was definitely something underlying that was worrying both Ash and the Colonel respectively, neither could put a finger on what though.

Carrillo felt the sudden staggering of her breaths, she was trying to hide something, and he gathered it wasn’t something that should be hidden. He lifted his left hand slowly and gently grasped her chin to tilt her head up from looking at her hands clasped in her lap to somewhat awkwardly making eye contact with him. The sight of her watery red rimmed eyes made him ache in an uncomfortable but somehow not unwanted way, he wanted to be the person she could come to and vent out her concerns without fear of what might come of the situation, he wanted in every way possible to be that stable force in her life, for better or for worse. He knew from experience that he should quickly disregard these kinds of thoughts, it was entirely too early to be getting this deep with a fellow soldier, let alone a junior officer who he was in command off, but despite knowing all that was stacked against him he just couldn’t stay away, this was something he would pressure until his dying breath.

Ash could see the wheels in his head turning, his thoughts no doubt flying through his head and being batted away for another time, the formidable Colonel was known for his hard exterior but in this moment she wasn’t sure she could believe the things she had heard. His hand had only just barely moved away from her face, just kind of hovering in her space, a gentle reminder that he did, infact, have a compassionate side, one that she was beginning to see more and more. From this angle meeting his eyes was uncomfortable, feeling brave Ash decided to shift the position into something teetering the edge of the forever thinning professional line between them. She moved quickly but still giving him time to push her away, gathering one leg from underneath her she shifted it to the right so she was straddling his lap, chest to chest and nearly overwhelmingly intimate.

From this new position she had the perfect opportunity to really take him in, subconsciously her hand came up to cradle his face, lightly tracing over his brows before flowing over his cheekbone, Ash smiled softly when his stormy eyes fluttered shut as he lent into her palm, touch it seemed was something they both craved, she continued lightly tracing over his facial features finally coming to a halt with her palm resting along the side of face, thumb hovering just a few millimeters away from his lips. With his eyes still closed she was almost tempted to close the gap between them to thank him for looking after her, but also in a selfish need to fulfill a small portion of her desires. Instead of following through on that thought, she spoke quietly, not wanting to break this small moment of peace, “Sir, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done, I.... uh...” her voice broke, emotions overwhelming her, “Its just, no one has done this much for me since i was a kid, and i know you didn’t sign up for this so...” her speech was cut off when he placed his finger against her lips, effectively silencing her.

“For one..” he started off strongly “I’m just doing what any good commander would do, you’re part of the team Ash, we look after our own, and two” his voice dropped just that little bit lower, taking on a rough gravelly tone “Please call me Horacio”

Ash just stared at him blankly for a moment while processing his words then at nothing more than a quiet whisper she breathed out his name, a jolt of understanding and desire coursing through her body when a lazy smile overtook his features. Whatever was left of the line of professionalism between them had been shattered in that moment, the overwhelming warmth of his eyes made her heart beat faster in her chest, decision made she leant forward slightly while tilting his head up to meet her own, the first brush of their lips against each others was brief, testing in a way, she went to pull back to assess his reaction but just as she began moving her head away he surged up, reconnecting their lips in a kiss that was all consuming.

He was everywhere and nowhere all at once, too close but somehow too far away, everything that had led up to this moment was poured out in one deep soul shattering kiss that would be burnt into her memory for years to come. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, methodical and thorough and by all means gratifying. He kissed her like a man starved, thrusting his tongue past her parted lips and drowning himself in the taste and feel of her body, committing her to memory while she did the same with him. His hands had moved from her face down to her ass, pulling her even tighter against him in an attempt to satisfy every waking desire he held for her. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders as she ground down on him, the small moan of satisfaction that escaped her lips was soon drowned out by the gravely moan that left his throat when her hands came up to tug on his hair.

The sound of a camera shutter followed by the sounds of barely concealed joyous laughter had the two of them breaking apart, Ash climbing rather hurriedly from his lap and Horacio’s hands flying out to steady her as she stumbled slightly, her mind still sluggish from the intensity of their kiss . Ash looked towards the front door where the noise had come from only to find Henry standing there with the smuggest smile he could muster plastered on his face, that little bastard. Even while annoyed from being ripped from her moment of bliss she couldn’t be angry at him, but appearances were everything, so without a noise of warning she bolted for the barely older soldier, tackling him to the ground and cursing him out only loud enough for Henry himself to hear.

Having had enough of being beat down on Henry flipped them over, effectively pinning Ash to the ground and already setting his plan in motion, he was entirely too eager to start pissing the Colonel off, especially now that he had caught him and Ash sucking faces on the couch, making him jealous just might be too easy of a feat now. He smiled cheekily down at Ash, the look in his eye no doubt sending the message to her that he was ready to cause mischief, that smile of his grew when she imperceptibly shook her head at him. Ever the annoying older brother type he was he began tickling her, delighting in the way she tried to escape and started screeching at him to stop, instead of doing that he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and he made haste towards her room, already knowing which was hers from the messages his fiance had received from the giggling girl over his shoulder.

Reaching her room he kicked the door shut with his foot before not so gracefully throwing Ash onto the bed, trying not to curl over dying of laughter when she began rolling round on the bed clutching her stomach and laughing breathlessly while trying to speak. Her laughter suddenly stopped when there was a slight banging noise from a few rooms over which seemed to sober her up, looking at Henry with wide eyes she gulped, “Omg, you idiot, he’s gonna bloody kill you for that!”

Henry just shrugged while flopping on the bed beside her, “That's the plan Ashy, we are gonna make that man so jealous he doesn’t know what to do with himself, then you’ll really be enjoying yourself” he said with a jovial wink.

Ash just groaned before smacking him square in the face with a pillow, she really did love him like a brother but sometimes Henry was an idiot, “Lemme guess, you and lisa made a bet on the Colonel and I, and then you being the idiot you are decided you wanted to take it to the extreme?” she questioned, rolling her eyes when he nodded while giving her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. Throwing her hands up in the air she huffed, “ok fine, but nothing that’ll weird either of us out, and we only do this until something solid happens between Carrillo and I, deal?” she stuck her hand out to seal their little deal.

“Definitely deal kiddo, now, wanna see Lisa’s reaction when I send this scandalous photo of you and our CO kissing through to her?” The boyish smile he sent her way had her smiling like an idiot. Yup, her brother really was a dumbass.

#horacio carrillo #horacio Carrillo x oc #horacio carrillo x reader #narcos fanfic #paper scissors rank #chapter 10

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hraugur · 1 year

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re: last reblog + further thoughts on it here are some of my recent fandom posts and how they’ve been doing numbers wise

this is obviously a lot of attention (for me) anyways but the ratios here are a bit, uhh. uneven, i guess. and that’s fine, y’know. the validation definitely feels nice, still. i’m not super concerned with numbers in general but, for stuff like this, especially fandom stuff, i wish it got more reblogs because, y’know, i’m making stuff for other people to enjoy and if it gets reblogged more, more people see it and yada yada and that’s kind of what it comes down to, i guess. i want people to like my stuff, obviously. i mean i’d probably still draw it even if they didn’t, but getting attention is a really good motivator! i guess i don’t really understand why people don’t reblog stuff and are satisfied with just liking it. pretty much everything i press like on, i’ll also reblog it. or maybe my stuff is just not palatable, i dunno

#hmm #word vomit of the highest degree

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serpentinerose · 4 years

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hi! this isn't supposed to be ship or character hate, I'm just genuinely having a conflictual time reading 2ha. i'm on chapter 60 (so obviously I'm already pretty invested lol), but how do people get past the fact that cw is in love with a 15yr old disciple? maybe I'm just not at the part in the novel where that is somehow justified (i know he doesn't DO anything to moran, really its vice versa, but it's still kind of the thought that counts). does this q make sense? rly not supposed 2b hate!!

Hello anon! Thank you for your question. I think this is a morally gray point and surely will be one of the most common criticisms levied at 2ha, especially once it gets big when Hao Yi Xing is released. Some people would definitely classify Chu Wanning’s love for 15-year-old Mo Ran as very clearly immoral. I don’t love the minor thing due to my own ethnic Asian but Western-raised perspective, but I can kind of see why Meatbun made this decision. Keeping in mind how Chu Wanning was written as a character in the context of fantasy ancient China, I have a few thoughts on this. I tend to ramble a lot, so here is my word vomit:

1. Modern Western age of consent vs. classical norms. I think it is worth examining our own understanding of various constructs of the modern age, including the age of consent. It is no surprise that there was pretty much no such thing as an age of consent in the past; for women, it was whenever they started their period, and then they were eligible to marry. I think it is great that we now care a lot about age of consent; there is an enormous differential of power between a relatively young person and a more established, mature person, and knowing what we now know about prefrontal cortex formation (continuing until roughly the age of 25), it is good that we establish some boundaries. However, there does seem to be a mismatch between the biological point at which we are counted as fully mature and what we consider to be an appropriate age a person can be eligible for guilt-free sex. The age of consent is arbitrary to the point that it still varies in many parts of the world. What is considered immoral varies depending on context. Meatbun wrote 2ha following an established tradition in wuxia novels following the norms of that world. In the world of ancient China and especially fantasy ancient China, the fact that Mo Ran is a minor will not make anyone blink an eye. What is very scandalous, however, is that Chu Wanning is his teacher. One of China’s most famous wuxia stories, the Return of the Condor Heroes, features the love story between the protagonist and his female martial artist master. It has been some years since I returned to this story, but I am 99% sure that the disciple Yang Guo was a minor when their relationship began. Even removed from the Eastern world, Western classical traditions also extol the virtue of the erastes/eromenos sexual relationship. This does not mean I am saying it’s ok for someone to be attracted to whom we consider minors if we just move everyone to a historical setting, but we also have to be critical about how future generations will look back at our current norms and how we, too, will become abhorrent to them in some respect.

2. Chu Wanning as a person and the concept of love. The xianxia world of cultivation seems to de-emphasize the concept of sexual love even as sex itself is widely acknowledged as a method of cultivation. However, dual cultivation is also thought of in-universe as an inferior technique of cultivation, with self-cultivation held to the highest standard, meaning abstinence (I cannot find the reference for this, sorry, but probably somewhere in Book 1). I do not read Chu Wanning’s attraction to Mo Ran as sexual at all in book 1. [minor spoilers] Chu Wanning was raised by monks in a removed temple at the top of a mountain [/minor spoilers], and sexual desire is considered taboo and suppressed. Chu Wanning was so successful at this suppression that he quite simply does not even think about sex or sexual matters until [minor spoilers] book 2, when Mo Ran is much older and way hotter [/minor spoilers]. I think for Chu Wanning, the love he feels for young Mo Ran is romantic and protective, in that he would do anything to keep Mo Ran safe, puts Mo Ran’s interests above his own, and is quite divorced from sexual interests. One may note that every romantic touch between Chu Wanning and Mo Ran at that age was initiated by Mo Ran himself, and Chu Wanning just kind of sat there in shock, and if he did take comfort in those moments, I can’t really blame him with the heavy amount of seemingly unrequited love going on. Chu Wanning saw a spark of something pure and good in 14-year-old Mo Ran when Mo Ran first became his disciple, and through their time together, the spark only grew stronger and fueled Chu Wanning’s love. I don’t think Chu Wanning considered Mo Ran as a sexual being, nor did Chu Wanning consider himself a sexual being. Until book 2. Also, a re-emphasis that it is just so arbitrary that an adult having feelings for a 17-year-old is not ok, but it’s fine when that person turns 18, which leads me to...

3. Thoughts vs. actions. This goes into a philosophical slash kind of religious point about at what point does sin begin, at the thoughts level or at the actions level. Chu Wanning quite clearly believed it is the former. He suffered tremendous guilt over his love for Mo Ran because Mo Ran is his disciple, even if everything I said about the age thing did not count. The master-disciple relationship in ancient China is as sacred as the father-child relationship. There is a famous idiom, which goes “One day as a teacher, a lifetime as a father,” signifying how well this relationship is valued under a Confucian system. Flash forward to 1984 and the thought police, and then taking into account how Meatbun is writing this novel in censorship-happy Communist China, I think it is a pretty deliberate choice on Meatbun’s part to make Mo Ran’s starting age in the novel below the 18-year-old threshold of acceptability. Do we condemn Chu Wanning for what is in his heart, unvoiced, or for what he does? For all that Chu Wanning pines for Mo Ran, what he ends up doing can only be seen as virtuous. Even if someone reads his love for Mo Ran as sexual, does it negate what he chose to do instead? Contrast this with Nabokov’s treatment of the narrator in Lolita, which is a clear example of abuse. Chu Wanning loved Mo Ran at all ages, through all stages of both of their lives; it is not a fetish for him to seek out youth. It just so happened that Chu Wanning met Mo Ran at that point in both their lives. Overall, I think the moral judgment of Chu Wanning’s feeling is up for each reader to answer for themselves.

With all that said, my own context is that I’m a woman in my late 20s with relatively little trauma history raised within both the Sinosphere and “the West,” and so my experiences reading this novel and my own understanding of the characters and their motivations are colored through my own lenses. I am of the opinion that literature (I don’t think I’m being too generous in saying that 2ha counts as a piece of literature) should challenge your perception, expand your horizon, and get you to think critically about what you are consuming. Of course, I would prioritize your own mental health and safety if reading this novel is traumatizing to a more serious degree than feeling conflictual about the subject matter. Thank you for the very thoughtful question. It really helped me work through my own feelings about this pairing and Chu Wanning as a character.

#2ha #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan #erha #meta #ish

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nonasidesstuff · 4 years

Text

the dimension travel au

aka Virgil’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

so this is like half bullet fic half outline half word vomit but here it is!

this is based on a set of art drawn by @greenninjagal-blog that you can find here with the original version of this au

i dont mind if anyone wants to use any of these ideas just tag me/send me a link if you do!

this got SUPER LONG so its going under a cut

ok lets start with

virgil

his world is medieval-with-magic

the magic here tends to take on different elemental forms depending on the user

people who use magic are called witches

his is storm based (lightning, rain, wind, etc) and is good for both offense (shooting fucking LIGHTNING at someone is great in a fight) and gardening (the ability to call rain at will is pretty nice)

he can also make potions but in his world ANYONE with magic can make potions

the thing is,,,,, magic is illegal in the kingdom he lives in

so when he found out he had magic at like age 11 he fucked off in the middle of the night

he found another witch (a water witch) fairly soon after he left and they taught him how to control his powers and how to make potions

also how to hunt bc hed planned on living out of cities

5 years later hes 16 and has learned all he could and leaves to go to the woods in the middle of nowhere

his teacher had told him about a cottage they had built in a clearing in the woods and said he could go there bc they were leaving the kingdom

they left behind a lot of books on magic and he learned more reading those

the cottage was actually in pretty good shape? the roof was a little leaky but the furniture inside was fine

the outside was a nightmare though. overgrown plants all over

as the years went on he restored the area around the cottage and found a bunch of neat stuff

like a vegetable garden that had been overgrown and wild but still had healthy plants he could cultivate for food. there were also some spice plants that had gone out of control that he harvested and dried for later use

he found out the woods around his home were full of berries (wild strawberries and blackberries. shhhhhh idc if they dont grow in the same places this is a Magic World) and discovered that one of the trees in the clearing was actually an apple tree so yay fruit!!!!

so he was living the good life

cut to 3 years later

hes 19 now and a full-blown weather witch and potion maker

he has sectioned off his garden into 3 parts: spices, vegetables, and potions ingredients

unfortunately some ingredients just wont grow well in a garden and have to be harvested from the wild

virgil realizes hes running low on a couple of said ingredients and decides to make a run to the patches of potion herbs he knows of

he only gets halfway there

a swirling blue-and-yellow vortex opens up 20 feet in the air to the right of him and something falls out

something human shaped

holy shit its a PERSON

he rushes over to make sure this person is okay and.

they have reddish brown fox ears?????

and a reddish brown and grey tail????????

he pokes one of the ears and it twitches

holy shit theyre REAL????!!!!!!!!!

he gathers up this person and takes them home

he puts the strange person in his bed and tends to the minor injuries they obtained from falling 20 feet

this is when he realizes that this person is dressed,,,,,, very strangely

now, people in virgil’s world have some freedom in what they can wear. they can wear whatever the FUCK they want. virgil is partial to dresses and skirts himself

but what this person is wearing is different. the material was like nothing hed ever seen before and in a strange style

(it suits him. its really cute)

he slept for a little over 9 hours

(virgil slept on the floor)

and when he woke he was disoriented and woozy

so he ate a small meal and drank some water and fell back to sleep for another couple hours

when he wakes again, he feels much better and is able to introduce himself

“I’m Patton Baker! Where am I?”

patton

his world is like if you took every single magical girl/boy anime out there and mashed it into one world.

so its chaotic

theres aliens/demons/monsters attacking every other week

this attracts magical creatures like a magnet and they start giving magical girls/boys powers. these are called magical guardians

these people are public figures and are treated the same way idols are in our world (not allowed boyfriends/girlfriends etc)

its a tough job

patton became a magical boy when he was 14 and has been for the past 3 years

the powers his magical guardian are able to give are based off of endangered or threatened animals (yes im sort of copying tokyo mew mew shhhhhhhhhh)

patton became infused with the dna of the island fox

his transformation is triggered by a small tattoo-like marking given to him by his guardian. it’s on the base of his neck

he Absolutely has a magical girl transformation

when he’s transformed, he has the ears and tail of an island fox as well as claw-like nails. his hair is the reddish-brown of the fox and his eyes are silver

his outfit is light blue with silver and white accents and dark blue sleeves

when detransformed he has blond hair and blue eyes

his magical boy weapon is a bow that he can shoot arrows of light from

his group was based out of florida and has been going strong for about 15 years. magical teens come and go as they gain their powers and retire or, tragically, lose their lives fighting

at the moment there are six people including patton

their most recent foe is a monster that has the ability to make people and things disappear, and they’re not sure what happens to them

theyre fighting this thing at night when it happens. the creature has already taken the streetlights out and the teens are fighting in heavy darkness. patton, who has better night vision due to his fox genes, sees the monster about to grab the leader, and strongest, of their group

and he makes a choice

he pushes her out of the way and gets grabbed by the monster instead.

there’s a single moment of searing pain and then the world dissolves into swirling lights and dizziness

when he wakes he’s in a strange house. he introduces himself and the person who’s taking care of him introduces himself

he’s told he fell out of some sort of portal and virgil tries to help him figure out where he is in relation to his home but. virgil doesnt recognize any of the places patton is talking about. and patton doesnt recognize any of the ones virgil says

virgil asks patton about the fact that He Is Part Fox and patton talks about the magical system back home and thats when they realize theyre dealing with dimension travel

patton stays in bed for the rest of the day and by the next hes feeling much better! so he helps virgil around the house and they get to know each other

the day after that, virgil remembers that he really needs those herbs, so he tells pat hes going out for a bit to gather them

he gets about a quarter of the way there when Another Portal Opens and dumps out a person. this time right in front of him

this person is also wearing odd

clothing, but in a different style than pattons

he checks to make sure theyre not injured (they knocked their head a bit but other than that seem fine) and carries them back home

the person is unconscious in virgil’s bed for a couple of hours longer than patton was, but he wakes up entirely coherent

he introduces himself as “logan croft”

logan

his world is one full of magic

magical creatures of all sorts live there and magic is a welcome part of society

there’s elves, fairies, merfolk, unicorns, any you can think of

magical schools are also big parts of it

people who have mastered their magic to the highest degree are called mages

everyone else are called wizards

the way magic works in this world is with spells (think harry potter but without wands)

some people are born with more magic than others and as such have a harder time controlling it when it manifests at around 10

so theyre sent to magic schools where they learn how to safely do so

if they want to stay at these schools after they learn control then they move on to higher forms of magical education to continue learning

logan is one of these students

he was born with a MASSIVE amount of magic and when it manifested he. accidentally leveled his house

everyone was fine!!!!!!! but the poor boy had absolutely no control

so he stayed at a school for people with high amounts of magic and by the time he was 13 he had enough control to leave if he wanted to

of course this being logan he Absolutely wanted to keep learning so he moved on

he was so good actually that he ended up in the best magic academy in the world

he consistently learned magic at a faster rate than his peers and so by the time he was 18 (people normally didnt until they were like 21/22) he was a mage in all but name

so he was ready to take his mage exam

the mage exam is considered both easy and the hardest and most dangerous thing you could do

its easy in the fact that you only have to cast a spell correctly

its hard and dangerous bc its a spell that NO ONE outside of historians have ever seen before and you only have 10 minutes to memorize it. things go wrong Frequently

needless to say there arent many mages and people tend to either quit before reaching that stage or fail

and failure can be painful

so logan decides to take the mage exam

the spell they are given is a long string of words dug out of an ancient book of spells and historians arent entirely sure what it does

so ofc its given to the best in the academy

logan takes his ten minutes to memorize the spell and begins chanting

now in this world, when spells are used a runic circle made of light appears under the person casting

small spells have small circles and bigger spells have larger and brighter ones

the one this spell called forwards was massive and so bright that it blinded the exam practitioners (i think thats the word?)

when the light died down logan was gone

theyre unsure whether it went right or wrong but unfortunately theres no trace of where logan had gone so theres no way to see

when he wakes hes somewhere he doesnt recognize and is being taken care of by two people

they all introduce themselves and logan gets the story about what happened to him

and he realizes hes in a different dimension with different magical rules

naturally he wants to learn everything

so he and virgil have long discussions about the differences in their magic systems

(with patton chiming in every once in a while with how bonkers magical girl powers are)

after logan gets back on his feet virgil really REALLY needs those herbs and so he decides to go back out

logan tags along this time bc he wants to see the differences between the flora and fauna of this new world

they get about half way there and once again.

a portal opens

its light blue and yellow

virgil goes “jesus christ AGAIN??????? am i a MAGNET for these things??????????”

and a person falls out

theyre another animal person. this time with scales covering the side of their face and down their arms

virgil and logan carry this whole other person back home and as soon as they walk in

patton is like “janus????!!!!!”

janus

turns out

janus is from pat’s world!!!! and the same mg group!!!!!

he became a magical boy about a year before pat did and was merged with the dna of a golden lancehead viper

so hes been a mg for like 4 years

his outfit is white with yellow bows and a black cape thing with a yellow inside. his scales are bright yellow and his eyes are heterochromatic. one is a normal eye (brown) and the other is a bright gold color with a snake-like pupil

his marking is on the inside of his left wrist

his weapon is a set of knives made of light that he can call at will and either slash with or throw

he and patton got along rather well in the current time

in the past, they,,,, didnt

it wasnt violent but they were kinda snippy at each other and janus was aggressively sarcastic which pat Did Not Appreciate

but after working together for a few years they got to know each other better and saw each other through low points in their lives and became close

janus was still a sarcastic little shit but now its more playful

he likes to suggest “pushing it down a flight of stairs” for any problem

“man i have a big math test tomorrow with a mean teacher that i didnt study for im screwed”

“push it down the stairs”

“the teacher or the test?”

“yes”

he will also aggressively remind you that Self Care Is Good And Needed

(“patton youve been patrolling for hours every night this week. go sleep”

“but i-“

“go 👏 to 👏 sleep 👏”

“bu-“

“go sleep or im going to knock you unconscious and THEN youll sleep”

“ok fine”)

anyways the dimension monster came back and despite the whole group being more careful, it got janus

luckily (to every one else) this time they managed to defeat it

once again, the pain of dimensional travel fucking SUCKED and janus was unconscious for about as long as patton was

he woke and ate a small meal and fell back asleep for like an hour

when he woke up that time he was shocked and happy to see patton

they reunite and everyone gets to know each other over the next couple days

and then virgil remembers that he STILL HASNT GOTTEN HIS HERBS and they all decide to tag along when he leaves to get them

virgil just like sighs and said “nothing better happen this time i swear to god-“

and they make it most of the way there!!!!! virgil feels a little hope!!!!

then another portal opens

its red and green

(virgil: “GODDAMMIT”)

this time TWO people fall out

the group gather up the two portal people and take them home to heal bc

holy shit they are in bad condition

theyre unconscious for a solid 2 days

Roman and remus

their world is BAD yall

the world is very scientifically advanced, and a group if scientists decided that they wanted to prove the existence of alternate universes

and they did!

but they accidentally opened a portal to a hell dimension and they couldnt close it

so the whole world became an apocalyptic nightmare

this happened when the twins were 15

theyve been surviving on their own in an apocalyptic hellscape for just over 4 years now

remus is the close range fighter with a variety of Large Sharp Knives and roman hangs back and snipes the ones going in for remus’ blind spots with a modified rifle. or if he has to fight closer range he has a modified pistol

roman also is the one to carry their medical supplies bc remus did Once and never will again

they travel together bc even though they cant stand each other some days (remus makes gross comments a Lot and roman likes to complain about the lack of conditioner)

(roman once found an old bottle of perfume and dumped it on remus’ head. in retaliation, when they were relatively safe remus found a dead squirrel and chased roman around with it for a solid 15 minutes)

theyre still twins and theyre all each other have left

currently, roman and remus are running from a creature that caught them off guard while they were sleeping

it had managed to get a few good hits on them before they managed to fight back so they both have a couple injuries

roman has a long slice down his arm and remus has some real bad claw marks down his back

the two of them find a building they can hide in while they wait for the creature to move on and discover that its some sort of science lab

they decide to explore for a bit bc they have 0 braincells between the two of them

what they dont realize is that this is one of the labs that the scientists were using to build their dimensional machines

what they do realize is that the monster found them and it starts chasing them through the facility

the two of them are in really bad shape

malnourished after living on just what they can find for 4 years, both bleeding profusely from open wounds and various injuries from other run-ins with the creatures

they arent able to run as fast as they usually are able and so they get cornered in a room with a large machine

they back up to it to stay away as long as they can and

one of them presses a button

the machine behind them whirrs to life and the two are sucked into a portal oh so similar to the one that ruined the lives of everyone on their world

roman wakes first

he wasnt hurt as badly as remus so the portal didnt take as much out of him as remus

everyone introduces themselves and roman has the his first full meal in. a long time

(he might cry a lil bit but shhhhhhh)

and now that hes awake, virgil can give him a potion to help speed up his healing

thats when romans like “holy shit MAGIC?????”

bc there was none on his world

and they all talk and get to know each other

(the other four are Horrified at how awful his world was

bc like, patton and janus’ wasnt very good either but it wasnt an apocalypse

the next day virgil leaves logan in charge and FINALLY goes and gets his GODDAMN HERBS

nothing happens this time :)

and when he gets back remus is awake

hes fed and virgil gets him a potion too

the two heal and just kind of marvel at the fact theyre safe for the first time in years

also that theres GODDAMN MAGIC!!!!!!!!!!

they still can’t believe theres actual magic

the five dimension hoppers eventually meet thomas, virgil’s talking magic cat

(virgil: “he can think and talk like a human hes not my cat”

thomas: “im totally your cat stop denying it”)

he decided to wander around the forest for a while (he does this often) and only got back after all of the portal shit ended

he is the only cat with magic and says he ALSO fell out of a portal but it was a few years before he met virgil

i dont really know what happens after this

maybe they go try to figure out how to get home?

maybe they decide to stay and live in the woods for the rest of their lives

maybe they decide “you know what? FUCK the government” and stage a coup to make magic legal

whichever it is definitely has a lot of found family goodness

can you tell i started running out of steam like 3/4 of the way through

#My posts #sanders sides #tss dimension hopper au #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 138 prt 2

“I don’t think I want to imagine that”

Mami would have rocked it. Keith imagined her sneaking her chocolates with a bottle of vodka giving the double finger to Sendak if she could have. Chocolates and her abundant supply of love were the only two things she zero self control over. Lance nodded, sucking down a breath, tone slightly dejected before levelling then growing wobbly

“Probably safer... but, yeah. I... the family gave me a lot of things that she’d left behind when we moved. I tried to go to the nursing home, you know, to thank them, but Coran made me stay in for observation. Luis cleaned her room out and took her things. He had the nerve to lose it at me for paying for her funeral...”

Lance started shaking again in his arms. Keith rubbing the top of his arm as if he was trying to warm him up

“Babe. Don’t go there. Luis isn’t your responsibility”

“I know, but without Mami... I won’t hear about them again”

That was true. Luis wouldn’t be rushing to call

“Pidge could change that. She can stalk down thin air and pull up all its credit card charges”

“I think Pidge would bite his ankles in real life if she knew. I wanted to... to be able to talk to them at the funeral, but Coran pulled enough magic to get me there as it was... and I wasn’t ready yet. She and Papi are together now. I wanted her buried in Garrison, but she’s in Platt. I’m talking too much”

Lance wasn’t talking too much. He’d held all this in as he waited for Keith to come home to him. He was glad Lance was telling him what he wanted in his own words instead of by letter

“You’re not. You miss your mum. From what you’ve said, you’ve made a lot of good memories”

“I suppose. I mean, I did. I know I’m very lucky I had all this time with her... really lucky considering all things. I wish I hadn’t broken my phone”

“Shouldn’t it back up?”

“I don’t know how it really works. It’s like one of your Blade phones but it’s pin locked instead of iris encoded. Laptop’s kind of the same. It’s a Coran special”

“We can ask him”

“I hope it’s backed up... I need to stop talking about this... I can’t... I’ve been so whiny. Even when I came back from Sendak, through to now, my mental health’s been shit and all I’ve done is worry everyone. Four months isn’t like long for a vampire but it is for a human”

“I literally think you’re entitled to let it out”

“I keep showing... I keep showing the wrong sides”

There were no wrong sides to Lance. Okay. Maybe 4 months wasn’t that long to a vampire but it was a fucking looooong arse four months. They’d barely had three weeksish before he was off to Rome... meaning... it was like 6 weeks he’d had quality time with Mami... and shy of a month since her passing.

Lance was allowed to have feelings. His feelings made him who he was. It wasn’t like Keith didn’t feel guttered over the loss of Mami too. He kind of wanted to just lock Lance away and cry until his head throbbed and the pain was gone

“Because I’m so much better?”

“You are. I haven’t asked you much about Europe. I haven’t asked if you’re okay. I haven’t asked how things went down. I haven’t asked about the court case or this thing about Lotor killing Zarkon. I... haven’t... even asked you... how anyone is...”

“Babe. I only got in last night. This is our first proper conversation. I want to know what you’re feeling and thinking”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling. Running seems so much easier. But... then there’s all the things I’m waiting to hear back about. Mami’s will. Her accounts. What to do with her things she’a got stored at home. If the nursing home got the flowers I sent as a thank you for all they did for her. If I chose the right clothes Mami. If I did the right thing. If it wasn’t her time to go and I did nothing...”

Lance kept telling himself to shut up. To stop talking about Mami. That Keith had been through so much away from him that he was probably more tired than he was letting on. He tried to shut up but he couldn’t not think about Mami. She’d adored Keith. She kept a photo of him on her nightstand. Well, it was him, Keith and an ultrasound photo between them.

When Keith started leading him away from the kitchen, Lance didn’t want to move. He had to have breakfast, have his shot, then have something actual to eat. Instead Keith tugged him along, pulling him down to sit in his lap on the sofa. That Keith had come back was a miracle. That he’d stayed... Lance couldn’t describe how much he’d needed to see Keith. Then he went and ruined things because he couldn’t stop thinking about his Mami...

“You’re overthinking”

Geez. No shit. He’d expected a joyous reunion with Keith. Mami teasing them. Not Keith coming home to this. He wanted to feel happy so badly, but Keith... Keith made it too easy. He’d feared last night they’d never talk again as they had. Now he’d word vomit... after too much actual vomit

“I think I’m... not being strong enough”

He’d cried as he confessed his sins to his Mami. How he’d killed Sendak. His Mami taking his hands and telling him that it wasn’t fair for him to be blaming himself. She went to church with him. Before God he’d prayed. He’d confessed everything, as if it’d offer some absolution for his sins. He did feel marginally better when he didn’t burst into flames. It was hard to accept that the world was safer by taking a life. Mami pointing out that Sendak was the worst of everything a vampire could be, though she got it. She got that he grieved not for the monster he’d killed but at the loss of Sendak ever changing his ways. Vampires didn’t really work that way, but she... she got it because she wasn’t a hunter. She could see that he was worse than Nyma and Rolo, but she could see that he felt worse about the actual ending of potential than killing the monster inside Sendak’s skin. She was a better therapist than Coran.

They’d headed to the beach that morning, after his nightmare. Blazing hot sun didn’t exactly lure vampires out for a spot of sun baking and spontaneous combustion between snacking on the necks of tourists. Setting up the umbrella, chairs and fetching drinks, they’d settled down and Mami had told him about his first time swimming there. Rachel carried him everywhere. Made him a “hat” out of seaweed. He’d screamed and screamed, until Mami took it off his head. The sun had felt amazing. He wasn’t too pregnant looking, so he enjoyed taking his shirt off, only to burn himself for his efforts. Mami had laughed at him as she rubbed aloe vera on his sunburn.

It’d been hard to hear about times when they’d been so happy together. Just kids doing kid things. But a lot of Mami’s stories he hadn’t heard before, and some stories he heard over and over yet didn’t mind in the slightest. She was so proud of her brood. Making all these future plans and laughing over how he and Keith were going to be clumsy parents, but that was okay because no one knew what they were doing at first.

“You’re strong. You’re so strong”

Keith kissed his cheek. Lance knew he was starved of physical affection. He knew because he’d been depriving himself of it. He felt like “King Douche” that his boyfriend came back to this. That he needed to stiffen his upper lip and carry on. He knew he’d been a total dick not contacting Pidge or Hunk, but to begin with it’d been for their safety. He hadn’t let them see him at VOLTRON, though knowing they were also grieving Mami’s loss. Asking for more space on top of so much space already granted to him seemed incredibly selfish. He loved Pidge and Hunk, but it was like with Sendak again, he was scared of losing himself in his grief and hurting them.

He’d never wished he was more human than in the aftermath of that shit with Sendak. Lance knew if it was his friends going through this he’d be telling them it was okay. To let go. To grieve for as long as they needed and that he’d be there the whole time for when they were ready. But that didn’t apply to him. He had... he had o carry himself a certain way... anxiety fed paranoia that if he wasn’t the perfect friend they’d never speak to him again. Keith... Keith just... all he had to do was breathe and Lance was falling more in love with him. He’s tried building his walls back up when he set his mind to Keith never coming for him, but all his walls were sandcastles, crumbling under Keith’s feet as he trampled over Lance’s attempts and wrapped him up in love. He... he’d been so awkward and embarrassed how easily he’d caved into Keith. Now Keith was taking the time to fix his broken bits. His boyfriend hated the tourist masses but that was Varadero’s main source of income.

Placing his hand on his belly, Lance settled his breathing back down slowly. Keith didn’t hate his belly. He’d felt their twins starting to move. Like little has bubbly gas bubbles. When he’d spotted blood coupled with weird stomach pain, he’d thought he was dying but his Mami explained to him about things stretching and moving to make space. Coran was worried about his body not being strong enough to make it to term. Despite brewing in a vampire filled with vampire blood, both their kids returned human DNA. Never did he want another long arse needle in there again. Their babies passed their genetics tests. They just had to put up with him and Keith now

“Babe?”

“It’s okay. You said you wanted to see Cuba?”

“Well I came all this way. I’ve never been here before and I’m already madly in love with my tour guide”

Lance groaned at his boyfriend. If Keith turned that charm on everyone he’d probably be an unstoppable conman of the highest degree. His ego loved the flattery. He and it had many an mental disagreement. Now Keith was fanning it back to life

“You’re a menace. I have to eat. I’ve... been going through the motions but I have to eat before we go out. And... we’ll drive. I’ll drive. I don’t have much to hide this bump”

“I don’t mind it. I think it’s cute”

“The world isn’t ready for a pregnant vampire and his lover. This is Cuba. I’ve got a jumper I use if I absolutely can’t avoid going out...”

“In this heat?”

“You get the boyfriend with a covered outside or you get the boyfriend inside with the bump showing. You can’t have both”

“I definitely want both. I love your stomach. You looked so good bouncing on my dick with that bump showing”

Lance choked on air. Keith was a damn horn dog!

“I’m going to punch you in the dick if you don’t start thinking things through. I’m going to put you in “Horny Hunter Jail” if you don’t settle down”

Keith shrugged

“I can live with that”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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lannee · 4 years

Text

even my phone misses your call (by the way) - part 1

jo yeong x koo seo ryeong fanfic

AO3: link

It’s only 9:30 and the Prime Minister is already on the verge to implode.

If she has to endure another unnecessarily stupid conversation with the men existed within 10m of her seat, she might truly lose it. So she shuts them up, and walks towards the door. She can hear it vividly in the air, through the look in their eyes, “What a cocky brat, leaving again in the middle of an important meeting, with so many elite people twice her age”. As if she actually cares, as if she has the time to ponder over whatever nasty things they think of her.

She gave up doing that years ago. Koo Seo Ryeong did not crawl her way out of a fish market and become the youngest female Prime Minister of Corea to put up with some 60 year old men’s bullshit. So of course she leaves, whispering death threats to Secretary Kim for not doing his job properly and forcing her to attend another useless meeting that can just be a goddamn report on her table.

Back to the office, she walks straight to her private balcony after taking out a pack of cigarettes she secretly keeps in the room. Seo Ryeong is not a regular smoker, not silly enough to sustain an addictive habit that can damage her impeccable skin. But here she is, stressed out of her mind, holding the lighter so very close she can almost feel the nicotine coming in like waves. Then out of nowhere, she thinks of him.

She thinks of 20 year old Jo Yeong, to be exact. Standing in front of her under the heavy July rain while carefully taking the cigarette out of her soft lips. Jo Yeong with his navy umbrella. Always managed to find her at her worst, always be there next to her without saying anything because words were usually wasted when you talked to Koo Seo Ryeong.

God, he really ruins cigarettes for her. She throws the whole pack into the trash bin along with the one on her lips.

She hates him so much, it almost makes her want to see him just to say that to his face.

But they do not do things like that anymore.

When Yeong passed the entrance exam of Corea National University, Seo Ryeong was books deep into her Master degree in Political Science and International Relations. He instantly became popular in the campus for being the King’s closest friend, with rumors about him floating around every lecture that she attended. She studied with Lee Gon for years and never met him or his friends outside, but whenever they talked he always mentioned Yeong’s name and stories about what they did together in the palace.

She listened tentatively to everything he said not because she had a huge crush on him and wanted to be his Queen, as every jealous fangirl in the campus always thought of her, but because she needed to know every deep dark secret of the King of Corea. She knew it would tremendously help her career as a politician in the future. That was the reason why she followed him around like an innocent puppy, the pretty girl with a lovely figure who came from the dirty market and scored the highest grade on the insanely difficult entrance exam. She beat out Gon fair and square, sometimes late at night she even dreamed about taking the throne of his to herself. If people knew about her thoughts, they would laugh at her and spit on her face but frankly, she thought if she wanted it enough, she could be the Queen of Corea. With or without Gon by her side.

When Gon introduced Yeong to her for the first time, she could not read his face at all. She was used to be so good at knowing people after the first meeting, but Yeong stirred her curiosity and she felt strangely intrigued by him. Maybe it was because he did not talk much, he had an incredibly calm expression and most of the times he only looked at Gon. He acted like a well-trained bodyguard around the King, which she found quite hilarious. Gon already had an army walking around him every step, and with Yeong by his side it felt even impossible to her how she could still hang out with them so casually. She and Gon both knew they worked perfectly together as a team. Even when they had zero interest in each other romantically, she earned her place to be by his side and let’s be honest, he would never pass any group project without her insights and intelligence. It took Yeong a while to understand this, he was always careful and silent when she was around. She could feel him trying to crack her facade, as if he was able to see through her 10 year plan of becoming the Prime Minister of Corea.

He did not trust her, and it annoyed her how she cared about that more than she thought.

It started out with Seo Ryeong simply wanting to earn Yeong’s approval. She tried to ask him personal questions, which he only gave out vague answers that did not satisfy her at all. They even went together to a few field trips exclusively for the university’s top students, and girls followed him around all day hopelessly asking for his phone number. Sometimes he intentionally tried to find Seo Ryeong and asked her to go out for a walk in order to escape their horny fellow students. Everybody seemed to be intimidated whenever they saw her. She made fun of him every single time, “How desperate you are to come to me for help”. Gon never went with them on those trips due to security reasons, obviously. It surprised her how much she enjoyed having Yeong all for herself. He bought her food after their walk and one time somehow they ended up drinking beer together in Gyeongju. He told her about his family, mostly to subdue the awkwardness between them, and even asked her about things she never cared to share with anyone. They were both not a fan of getting deep and personal, their stories ended quickly and strangely left her longing for more. She did not know how to talk to him without sounding premeditated. Only with him did she feel like maybe she was not good enough. Maybe she needed to live life differently, to drop the act and let him see all of her calculations.

That was when she unknowingly started flirting with him a bit. She tried that with Gon years ago until they both realized the true intention of being in each other’s life. Then she did it with Yeong because there seemed to be no other way to get closer to him, she was kind of impatient and definitely not herself. She started drinking a lot around that time because of all the essays she had to write, relationships with important people she had to maintain while staying alert around Yeong and waiting for him to be under her control.

A week before she submitted her final thesis, she did the most stupidly cliche thing ever, and that was drunk calling Jo Yeong while she was out drinking alone. She was fed up with reading and writing and living alone in the city. Most nights she could not sleep peacefully and had no idea when the last time she ate a proper meal. So she drove to the closest bar she could find and drank half a bottle of expensive whiskey which would cost a lot of the money that she made working part time. She counted in her head how many days were left before she could stop with the pretentious studying and actually start working on her long overdue plans. Five glasses led to nine, then some guys came over offering to buy her drinks. She remembered being sober enough to drop mean words and scare most of them away. One guy stuck around for so long and was shamelessly insistent about bringing her home, she had to pull the boyfriend-coming-here-very-soon card. She knew she was completely intoxicated when she pressed his name on her phone. There was no way she would come out of the bar safely if she didn’t call someone she could trust.

“Noona, it’s 2 AM. What’s going on?”, he picked up after a few seconds and said boringly. Like he was about to fall asleep but she appeared out of nowhere and prevented that from happening.

She chuckled, regretting whatever she was doing in the back of her mind, “I don’t know, why don’t you come here and find out?”

“And where are you exactly?”, he signed.

She told him the address, and imagined him wondering why he even answered her call. She was so drunk, the thought of him not coming at all actually scared her. The guy next to Seo Ryeong kept on persuading her to go with him, to leave her fictitious boyfriend behind and stop acting hard to get. She laughed in disgust without batting an eye and continued drinking. The funny thing was none of the guys dared to touch her for too long, she guessed she had that kind of power. Time passed slowly and she was convinced Yeong did not care enough to drive all the way here from the palace to deal with someone he never really trusted. So when he called out her name from behind, she almost fell from the stool where she was sitting. Then everything suddenly happened too quick, too fast.

Yeong held her upright, one hand caressing her face, the other tugging her messy hair behind her ears. He asked for the bill and paid for it. She leaned her head on his chest during the whole card transaction, when he had to sign the bill his arms surrounded her. He was wearing a black linen shirt and dark jeans. Did he always smell this good? She buried her face in his neck absentmindedly and inhaled his scent. She could feel Yeong stopped abruptly in the middle of asking the bartender about something related to her drunken state. He wanted to know if she was alone the whole time, and she kind of imagined him not wanting any guy near her. Then he carried her out the front door, the early summer heat was suffocating and she told him she wanted to lie down somewhere. He quickly put her on the passenger seat of his car and she tugged on his shirt to pull him closer while he was trying to secure the seatbelt.

Seo Ryeong woke up in the morning with the worst headache ever. Her room smelled faintly of vomit. She panicked for exactly 10 seconds while everything from the night before flashing through her mind. She did not remember anything at all after entering Yeong’s car. She still wore the same clothes from last night, covered by her warm blanket. Her room seemed pretty clean, maybe he helped her to the bathroom before she made a mess of herself... For the first time in her life, she wanted to end her existence right there. While trying to grab the phone she saw a bottle of hangover cure on her bedside table. There was a text from him, sent 2 hours ago, “Drink it, cook some soup, text me when you’re awake.”

Could a heart ever get swollen? Because it felt like hers kind of did. She prayed to all the Gods above she did not say anything stupid to him during the drive home.

it’s been awhile since i wrote a fanfic. i didn’t know i needed to write a fanfic for these 2 incredible characters until i read this by @rain-hat - thank you for inspiring me dear. writing this is fun because i kind of know they’ll never be canon lmao. so i just went wild with my imagination. i’ll post part 2 maybe this weekend after the new episodes come out. hopefully there will be some scenes of them together. i literally only watch Eun Chae and Do Hwan’s scenes and skip the rest of this drama. please tell me i’m not the only one!

title is from From the dining table - my fav song by Harry <3

hope you enjoy this!

#woo do hwan #jung eun chae #the king eternal monarch #the king: eternal monarch #fanfic #i will go down with this ship

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golchaworld · 4 years

Text

Panacea | L.BG (Part 1)

➳ pairing: lee byunggon x fem!reader, ft. cix ensemble

➳ genre: organized crime!au, action, occasional fluff

➳ word count: ~3.3k

➳ warnings: cursing, mild violence, mentions of non-descriptive gore, mentions of sex, glorification of crime

➳ summary: Three years ago, they were sitting in the back of their chemistry class, passing notes and giggling. Now they’re fighting to take down the biggest crime lord in Seoul — their own. Who would have thought knowledge about hydrochloric acid would become so useful?

A/N: I got this idea on a whim a couple of weeks ago. I did a lot of research about CIX’s individual personalities to make this story as true to their characters as possible. I hope you guys enjoy. As always, feel free to reblog or reply with feedback, and my asks are always open.

Part Two

panacea (noun): a solution or remedy for all difficulties

The elevator lets out a soft chime before its doors open. As the man walks further into the office, his shoes click against the sturdy marble. His entrance is announced before he opens the door, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The receptionist quirks his head up, smiling widely once he lays eyes on the man. Not quite the reaction he would expect. The man doesn’t let his surprise show, just choosing to approach the receptionist with an expression set in stone.

“Welcome to Adonis, Inc.,” the receptionist greets. His name tag reads ‘Yoon Hyunsuk’ which is quite the fitting name for the boy behind the desk. His smile never once falters. “How can I assist you today?”

“I’m here for a meeting with Mr. Kim.”

Hyunsuk nods, instantly turning to his computer. “Perfect! May I have your name, please?”

“Ahn Taebin.”

“Okay, Mr. Ahn. I have you down right here. I’ll have someone right out who will take you to Mr. Kim.”

The receptionist finishes his sentence with a smile that has a shiver run up the man’s spine. Does this kid ever stop smiling? Apparently not, seeing as he picks up the phone, muttering a few words into the receiver while he still beams. When another man approaches the reception desk, this time from inside the office, Hyunsuk is still smiling.

“Mr. Ahn, this is Lee Byunggon. He will take you to see Mr. Kim, alright? Feel free to let him know if you need anything.”

The other man, Byunggon, sends Mr. Ahn a curt nod, which serves as both a greeting and a motion to follow him.

The two pass through the seemingly normal office. Cubicles are arranged in neat rows, yet only a few are inhabited by people. Mr. Ahn chuckles under his breath. He knows how hard it is to gain employees in a business like this.

The few employees that are at their desks seem to be hard at work. A few pore over files while others type aggressively. The whole office has the same aura. The perfection is a facade; there’s underlying aggression here. The neatness has a messy side. Mr. Ahn just doesn’t know what it is yet.

Eventually Byunggon stops in front of a grandiose wooden door. The words ‘Kim Jaeyong’ are engraved in a fancy gold font, perfectly matching the warm oak door. From the front, there are no windows, indicating that no one can see in or out. Mr. Ahn wonders if he should take that as a threat.

After three knocks that resonate throughout the office, the door is opened to reveal a blank face. Mr. Ahn has heard that Kim Jaeyong never makes the mistake of showing emotion.

Mr. Ahn is greeted with a short bow, which he returns before Kim Jaeyong motions for him to enter his personal office. Mr. Ahn complies, missing the way Byunggon smiles as the door closes behind the two. Byunggon’s not upset about being left out of the meeting, knowing he’ll bear witness to the best part later.

. . .

Mr. Ahn wakes up with a splitting headache. A bright light is shining in his face, making him flinch away. It’s then that he realizes he can’t move. Mr. Ahn looks down to where his arms are pinned to his sides, held down by a thick rope that has his entire body bound to the chair he sits in. He tries to let out a yell, a scream for help, something, but any sound he makes is muffled by the thick cotton that has been stuffed in his mouth.

“Look, guys. The asshole is awake.”

Mr. Ahn instantly searches the room, looking for the source of the words. It’s difficult, but eventually he makes out six figures standing behind the light that shines intensely in his face. He can’t make out specific faces due to the light, but a familiar smile glows even in the darkness of the surrounding room. The receptionist.

Hyunsuk chuckles darkly, clapping a hand on the shoulder of the boy next to him. “I think you’re going to have fun with this one, Jinyoung.”

The boy next to Hyunsuk, Jinyoung, Mr. Ahn supposes, smiles in his own twisted way. He drags his eyes up and down Mr. Ahn’s figure, eyes lit with a certain sadistic hunger that has Mr. Ahn’s stomach recoiling.

“Too bad I’m not going to get to the best part of it all, seeing as this asshole is going to tell us everything we need to know. Right, asshole?”

Mr. Ahn does his best to shake his head no, squirming within his confines. All six figures break out into laughter, even the ones he can’t see.

The boy that approaches him first has a soft smile, one that looks too sweet to participate in something like this. Mr. Ahn knows it’s all a facade. One look at the boy’s muscular arms lets Mr. Ahn know that he’s the real brawn of this group. Mr. Ahn feels bile rise in his throat.

The boy with the sweet smile just reaches forward, removing the fabric from Mr. Ahn’s mouth. He squats in front of his bound prisoner, cocking his head to the side cutely.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Mr. Ahn spits out.

Sweet smile boy chuckles. “We are simple people, Ahn Taebin. So let’s start this simply. Where’s our shipment?”

Mr. Ahn racks his brain for information, but he turns up empty handed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another boy steps out from the shadows, a tablet in hand. With a quick press of a button, staticky audio streams from the device. The boy is stoic, factual, and looks all too much like Kim Jaeyong. He must be a relative. But Mr. Ahn’s train of thought is interrupted when he hears his own voice flutter out of the tablet.

“I don’t give a fuck. I’ll be damned if I deliver Adonis all of that phencyclidine. We could be profiting off that shit. What good is angel dust if we’re not the ones selling it?”

Mr. Ahn wants to vomit. Where the hell did they get that recording?

Sweet smiling boy chuckles again as his other friend returns back to the shadows. “How about I ask you one more time, Ahn Taebin. Where. The fuck. Is our shipment?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Mr. Ahn delivers a sweet smile of his own. He’ll be damned if he lets some kids in on the inner workings of his shipments, even if they already know that they’re hidden.

“You see, I find that pretty hard to believe. When I asked Miyeon, she seemed to think that you knew exactly where our shipment was.”

If Mr. Ahn thought he was going to vomit before, he definitely is now. He spent his entire life trying to keep Miyeon away from this lifestyle, and yet here she is, still wrapped up in Adonis’ tendrils.

“What did you do to my daughter, you son of a bitch?! If you hurt her, I swear my entire gang will have your head.”

At this, the room erupts in sadistic laughter once again. Mr. Ahn hates how much they’re enjoying this.

Sweet smile boy places a patronizing hand on Mr. Ahn’s knee, eyes filling with mirth. “Don’t worry, Ahn Taebin. I didn’t hurt your precious Miyeon. But her pussy might be sore for a few days.”

Mr. Ahn uses all of his strength to fight against his restraints, attempting to lunge towards the boy squatting in front of him. His efforts are futile, though, leaving him to yell frustratedly.

“You twisted fucks,” he bites out.

Sweet smiling boy just stands, retreating into the darkness as another boy takes his place. Mr. Ahn recognizes this as the one from earlier, the one with the sadistic eyes. He holds a pair of pliers in his left hand, in his right, a bone saw. Mr. Ahn gulps.

“Mr. Ahn,” the boy begins. “I think you’ve brought me to my favorite part. So this is your last chance before we really get started. Tell us where our shipment is, and you just might leave with all 10 fingers and 10 toes.”

The light in Mr. Ahn’s face has begun to make him sweat. Despite his discomfort, Mr. Ahn stays strong.

“Go to hell.”

The corner of the boy’s mouth quirks up. “If you say so.”

. . .

“Cheers!”

You clink your glass against the five in front of you before knocking back the shot. The soju burns your throat as it slides down, warming your core to the highest degree. In all honesty, you preferred wine, but Seunghun always insisted on hard liquor after a long week.

You watch as the boys’ faces contort in various ways as they each take the shot. Hyunsuk’s nose scrunches cutely, reminding you much of a baby bunny. Yonghee’s face is twisted into a tight grimace. Jinyoung is the only one who’s stoic, face not budging even as the alcohol travels down his throat. Oh Jinyoung, always the show off.

The plush carpet that you sit on tickles your thighs, reminding you to be mindful of the way your skirt shifts. You remember just how frustrated you were that you had gotten blood on your only comfortable clothes, and thus had to wear this stuffy office getup for the remainder of the day.

“Honestly,” Hyunsuk begins. “I still don’t know how Seunghun managed to fuck every single one of these guys’ daughters. Like every single time!”

Seunghun smirks, leaning back to rest against the couch. “It’s easy when you look like me, kid.”

The group instantly erupts in fake gags and booing. As much as you all praise Seunghun for the inside work he does, it doesn’t mean you enjoy the cockiness. Seunghun’s beauty has definitely gone to his head since he started this work, inflating his ego maximally.

“Shut up,” Jinyoung retorts. “You’re not even the hottest. That’s obviously me!”

Byunggon snorts before knocking back another shot. “You’re both so full of shit.”

You watch as the boys devolve into an argument of who’s most handsome. The only one who is quiet is Yonghee, who just watches the interaction with amusement painted on his face. You wonder if he knows that he could easily win the competition for most attractive.

Yonghee, despite being the handsome guy he is, has always been extremely humble. Part of it stems from being the crime boss’ computer nerd son; he never feels like he’s good enough.

When you meet his eyes from across the small coffee table, you shoot him a small smile. He returns it cutely, making a scene of rolling his eyes at your shared friend group’s banter. Honestly, this is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Y/N,” Hyunsuk calls your attention. “Help us out here. Who do you think is the best looking?”

Jinyoung groans, throwing his head back exaggeratedly. “That’s not fair. She’s just going to choose Byunggon!”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is imminent. Even if Jinyoung is right, that doesn’t mean he has to actually say it.

You’ve always found Byunggon attractive, even when you were younger. His strong jaw and rounded cheeks provide the perfect balance between cute and manly. Paired with his wide shoulders, deep voice, and dimples to die for, it’s obvious that Byunggon is the epitome of perfection.

And just maybe you’re a little in love with him.

What’s worse is that it’s not a secret. Everyone in the office seems to notice. Even Kim Jaeyong himself once made a joke about when you two would finally make it official. And maybe it’s a good thing that everyone knows. Well, everyone except Byunggon himself.

“She is not going to choose me!” Byunggon ducks his head to hide his blush. “You’re her favorite, Hyunsuk. She’s definitely going to choose you.”

Seunghun cocks an eyebrow, looking at you expectantly. “Well…?”

There’s only one way to diffuse the tension, this you’re sure of. You slowly scan over each of the five boys, pretending to think objectively. Eventually your gaze lands on an empty bottle of soju on the middle of the coffee table.

“I think it’s Yonghee.” You shrug.

The room is silent for a second, all five boys seemingly pondering the answer that you gave. Yonghee’s cheeks bloom a brilliant pink, spurred on further by the amount of alcohol in his system.

Seunghun just nods, taking another shot of soju. “You’re kind of right. Yonghee has always been the pretty one.”

The mentioned boy’s cheeks flush an even deeper pink, if possible. “That’s not true,” he mutters.

“It kind of is,” Hyunsuk chimes. “You always get random numbers from girls, even when we go to like the grocery store.”

“Like I said,” you cock an eyebrow teasingly. “No one can compare to the Kim Yonghee.”

By now, Yonghee is shaking his head, making every attempt to calm his pink cheeks. Jinyoung must find it endearing, because he reaches over and pinches the flesh, letting out small coos.

“Okay, but like, Y/N,” Hyunsuk starts again. “Who is second place?”

Although you can tell this is going to be a long night, you wouldn’t have it any other way. When you do the work that the six of you guys do, decompressing on a Friday night is much needed.

It started within the first month of you all working under Adonis, high school besties turned organized crime dream team. When Jinyoung disassembled his first human body, he called for a meeting on a random Friday for emotional support. It’s been a tradition ever since.

By now, it’s gotten a lot easier, the torture and murder. Well, it’s as easy as torture and murder can get. Those of you with the stronger stomachs do the more physical work, and those who are more squeamish work behind the scenes.

Seunghun and Jinyoung work hand in hand when it comes to torturing information out of the prey. Seunghun’s specialty is psychological torture, getting close to the prey’s loved ones and using it against them in moments of weakness. Jinyoung, on the other hand, works purely physically. You’ve seen him break bones like glow sticks without batting an eye.

You prefer the physical work once the prey is actually dead. That means most of the time you’re on body disposal. As a chemistry whiz in high school, you’ve known how to completely dissolve a body in hydrochloric acid since you were 15. If only you knew how much it would come in handy in the future.

Before all of the torture begins, though, someone has to lure the prey into the trap. That’s where Byunggon and Hyunsuk come in. They work as yin and yang, playing good cop and bad cop to both intimidate and provide a sense of security to the prey. Once the prey trusts a little too much, and is a little too comfortable with Hyunsuk’s smile, Byunggon swoops in, letting the chloroform do the work.

The only one who works completely behind the scenes is Yonghee. Sweet, innocent Yonghee pales at the sight of blood, but beams in front of a computer screen. More often than not, he keeps Adonis, Inc. running. He legitimizes all of the documents, wipes the security cameras, and leads any wandering eyes through a confusing hole of technological bullshit.

It’s the least he could do as the heir to the Kim throne.

. . .

Two hours later, the six of you are each in various states of drunkenness, strewn about Seunghun and Byunggon’s shared apartment floor. Their apartment was where you all had always decided to throw your end of week celebrations, but something about tonight has the place looking a little messier than usual.

Maybe it’s the fact that Jinyoung spilled soju on the carpet, twice. Or the fact that Hyunsuk has finished his third bag of chips, and hasn’t picked up any of the wrappers. Even Byunggon has crumbs on the side of his face.

But the messiness seems to match the aura of the night, fueling everyone’s mood. Seunghun keeps looking around anxiously, as if there’s something that’s threatening to burst out from inside him. You hope it’s not vomit.

“Guys, are we really going to do this for the rest of our lives?” The boy questions with a drunken lilt to his words, making them slur together. “Are we going to be cutting up bodies at 50? 60?”

Yonghee snorts. “Some of us don’t have a choice.” Even though he’s tipsy, you can still detect the grief in his voice.

“None of us have a choice,” Jinyoung reminds. “This isn’t a life we can just quit. We knew that before we even started.”

Seunghun’s signature pout takes hold on his face, making him look like a kicked puppy. You always wonder how Seunghun, someone who looks as sweet as he does, can live a life like this. What kind of internal darkness is housed under that mask of sincerity?

“I know, but being around the boss is so draining. He can be so fucking demeaning!” Seunghun’s eyes are red and glossy from the alcohol. “Spending so much time with him drives me crazy.”

You nod understandingly. Being around Kim Jaeyong is nothing short of a nightmare. He’s entitled, cocky, and all too harsh, even when dealing with those who have his back. Even the way he treats his own son is appalling, but you guess that’s the consequence of having so much power.

Kim Jaeyong can end lives with a snap of his fingers, and everyone around him knows that. So no one steps forward, no one takes a stand against him, and no one ever dares to cross him, leaving his power unchecked and absolute.

Seunghun continues, fueled by anger and hard liquor. “It gets so hard to have to deal with his sadistic mind all of the time. One time he said that he likes killing people because it makes him feel like a god. He told me that’s why the business is called Adonis. Who the fuck likes killing people?”

Yonghee doesn’t look up from his lap, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make any move to defend his father. He knows he can’t. His father’s actions have been heinous long before Yonghee was born, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I hate that he thinks of himself as a god. I hate that he thinks he’s so untouchable. Why can’t he show us a little respect? We do so fucking much for him.” Jinyoung’s voice is laced with venom.

“Imagine how I feel,” you say bitterly. “Getting catcalled all day at work isn’t exactly a dream job.”

The dichotomy of working in crime and working for a friend’s dad is a weird one. On the one hand, you expect the lewd, inappropriate manners in which business is conducted. On the other hand, you still have your expectations of being treated like a friend, like family, even. But Kim Jaeyong treats you like a piece of meat.

“Still?” Seunghun throws his hands up frustratedly. “I told him to stop that shit ages ago. I can’t believe he’s still harassing you.”

Hyunsuk rolls his eyes, crumbs staining the left corner of his mouth. “Well it’s not like there’s anything we could do about it. He’s never listened to us. Plus, the man’s not dying anytime soon, so it’s not like we’re changing leadership.”

There’s silence for a moment, weaving in between the bodies in the room in a swirling haze. The glow from Seunghun’s overhead lamp is reflected in Jinyoung’s eyes. Sinister. That’s what his gaze is.

“What if we could?” The boy asks. “What if we could change leadership?”

Byunggon groans in annoyance. “What are you on about now? Hyunsuk just said it, we’re not changing leadership anytime soon.”

“Yeah, but what if we could,” Jinyoung stands up, swaying slightly from the alcohol. “What if we could change Adonis’ leadership?”

Seunghun’s brows furrow, and he shares a confused look with Hyunsuk. “How would we do that?”

Jinyoung lets out a short chuckle. A smirk has taken a hold on his lips, turning them upwards slightly.

“We can take Kim Jaeyong down...all by ourselves.”

[Part Two]

#cix imagines #cix #complete in x #lee byounggon #lee byounggon imagines #escritos #panacea

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emmadutton1993 · 4 years

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Solar Plexus Chakra Reiki Astounding Useful Tips

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Reiki Energy Incense

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Can Reiki Cure Impotence

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