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akaashioppa · 3 years

Text

Forever Will Never Be The Same

pairings: oikawa x reader

summary: The reader finally confronts her husband Oikawa after cheating allegations in the male locker room. angst!!!

warnings: curse words, mentions of the reader having a son with Oikawa, confronting of cheating.

w/c: 1736

A/N: first time writing for Oikawa :)

Haikyuu Masterlist Masterlist

“Everyone get out now!”

Your voice echoed off the metal lockers of the locker room. Eyes widened as you made your way into the changing room, not because of the fact that a girl was entering the male’s locker room. It was the fact that Oikawa (Y/N) was coming to kick her husband’s ass. Just as every man passed you to flee, their musky scent filled your nose making you cringe.

After the final whistle of the game, people were scavenging to take pictures with Oikawa Toru except you. Each morning that you woke your husband up he would give you one of those cheeky grins that he was giving the fans right now, the stupid grin was fake. Laughter, jokes, and cries filled your ears, for what reason? The Great King made his grand entrance back to the court, winning both sets with the help of Iwaizumi. The Great King himself showered his fans with love and pictures while you stood from afar, anger flowing through your veins. Knowing the Poker Face King for ten years and having been married to him for two, it was easy to mimic the grin. As girls would pass by screaming about the pictures they took with him you would shoot them that famous grin.

You timed each moment perfectly, celebrating the win, pictures with fans, interviews with the sports commentators, more fan interaction and now he hits the locker room for a shower. Luckily for you, he was beginning to take his sweaty jersey off, beads of sweat from the previous game were still prominent.

“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was one of a kind, it was a mixture of panic and anger. Nothing to be afraid of, it’s not like he didn’t give you the same look when you caught him at the bar with another woman. Or the time you were driving down the road with his phone constantly going off, every other minute he’d get notifications, this would go on for hours.

The yelling of the men from the locker room made you come back to reality. Have they not seen a woman before or was it because you were standing there looking at their dick prints? A white tint cast over their knuckles from how hard they were holding their towels around their waist. ‘What a sight to see

“You can either tell me the truth or you can tell me the truth there’s no in-between.” You barked at Oikawa, men were still scattering out of the locker room. You barely gave them time to leave before you bombarded your husband with your question.

The panic on his face was quite entertaining, he moved in front of you so you couldn’t see his half-naked teammates running out of the locker room.“What are you talking about!?”

“When were you going to tell me that you went to a nightclub with Iwaizumi!? He told me everything so I’m giving you the chance to come clean about it!”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were going to be mad.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You got straight to the point, there was no need for you to sit here and procrastinate any longer. This has been on your mind ever since you got those three attachments from Iwaizumi.

“No” He scoffed, “Why would I sleep with her? I have too much respect for you to sleep with her.”

“Oh really, the way you were holding her waist makes me think differently. The way you kissed her neck makes me want to snap yours!” You held up a photo on your phone with him and another girl at the nightclub. His head was in her neck, you could see that he was kissing on it, his arms were wrapped around her waist but his hands were dangerously low.“Respect? Do you even know the definition of respect because if you did you wouldn’t have me out here looking stupid!”

He sat down on the bench of the locker room, his arms were tightly around his chest. Oikawa was already over this conversation, this wasn’t the first time you blew up in the face about this. Nor the second, he respected you in a weird way. He never laid hands on you, or even yelled at you but he couldn’t keep his hands off other women.

“How do I make you look stupid!? I give you everything you want!”

“Everything but love.” You yelled desperately, the thing about arguing with him about these situations was that he’d always claim that he knew what you wanted. He’d always try to bring light on the situation when he clearly fucked up. He was a great husband, you guys had been dating since high school. Since he got the fame and money things turned upside down, he became a legit monster.

“I show love to you every day, I make love to you every week!” His voice rose an octave, his hand was flying all over the place when he spoke.

You were appalled, sickened, offended, that he could say something like that. It hurts to know that he thinks this way, it almost makes you feel worthless. Does he really consider having sex as love? “That’s not loving Toru, that's lust.”

He sighed, his hands were on his knees, he got up to finish packing up his things. “Well, I’m over it. I don’t want you here anymore. Leave”

“How can you give up so easily on us.” You forced his hands away from his bag, he looked at you with a confused face. You poked him hard in his chest slowly provoking him, “I forgave you so many times after you treated me like trash. All the times you cheated and came home with women’s numbers falling out of your pockets. Many sleepless nights just to make sure that your knee would stop bothering you. I wake up every morning to make you your special breakfast so you can be game ready and yet I haven’t given up on you.”

“I’m just tired of arguing with you. All you do is complain about my lifestyle. If you can’t keep up then we shouldn’t be together. How can I keep consoling you after you get all jealous about me hanging out with fans or me taking pictures with my fans? It’s just toxic (Y/N).” He spat back, he didn’t seem angered. It was more of an annoyed look.

“Because you only hang out with female fans, it’s fine and all but when they’re posting sexual pictures with you, it’s a different story. I scroll down my feed to see you with more women than see pictures of us together. It’s like I don’t exist”

“Whatever (Y/N) I need to get ready for the after-party.”

“What about us? How are we going to fix this?”

“There is no us!” He screamed, his voice echoed off the lockers. He placed his hands on his hips trying to compose himself. “It’s only you and Torio. And me, Torio and volleyball! There is no us, not anymore and that’s it!”

You took a step back, each word was like a dagger in your heart. He would often bring your son into the matter. Ever since your son was born you’ve always felt like you and Oikawa had grown apart. It was like you were forcing yourself to stay for Torio’s sake. There would be days where things were good, on those days you and Oikawa wouldn’t argue. However, when days like this occur he’d make you hurt, you’d always end up questioning your ability of loving. Deep down you felt like you guys were drifting apart but you didn’t want to admit it. It was too painful, Oikawa would have been left if it weren’t for Torio. He wanted his fans and the sports media to look at him as a family man.

“Why is it so hard to ask someone to love me!?” Your breaking point had finally come, you held your hands over your mouth to stop the loud sobs. It was hard to know that your husband and high school sweetheart didn’t want you. You gave up everything to support him with his dreams, family, friends, work, school, and even your fucking sanity and yet she still treats you this way.

He stood there watching you beat yourself down, he didn’t do anything but place a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged it off, the last thing you wanted was for him to touch you. “Listen I loved you back in high school but now high school is over. You’re still basing this love off of that and I’m not here for it. All these insecurities you have are a bit annoying in my defense. Maybe this relationship would work if you grew the fuck up.”

“You can’t give up on us now. We need each other. Torio needs his dad. ” Lie, you needed him. Yes, Torio needed his dad but you needed your husband. It was crazy to think that you would go back to him but it was just your toxic ways. You never loved anyone but him, he was all that you had. Your life that you lived was based upon him.

“Look, we can talk about this later if you want, but right now I have thousands of fans waiting for me to show my face. You can either suck it up and go out there with me or you can hit the back doors and go home.”

“Toru…”

“What do you want?” He groaned, he turned back around with an annoyed face. He was fed up with you and even the situation. You knew he wanted you gone, he was waiting for the minute you’d leave so he could go and party.

Obviously an answer, he was too consumed with himself to even realize that. It was the reason why you came in here yelling at his teammates to leave, you wanted to ask him a question in private. The thought of getting your feelings hurt in front of everyone was not ideal.

“I just asked a simple question. Did you sleep with her?”

You looked up at him for the first him, your vision was blurry but you could see him well enough to see that stupid smirk.“What do you think?”

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thatweirdoleigh · 4 years

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Frozen Love

#February2021promptchallenge

Prompt: “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Oneshot / kinda based on daydreams about an oc

Procrastination is a bitch, but here you go!

Little editing. WE DIE WITH PRIDE. Sorry if this is scientifically impossible. or just impossible to read.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, implied Hypothermia, some swear words Feel free to @ me if I missed any.

Italics represent thoughts

Kol x Reader

Her tears felt like fire against the freezing air. It had happened. He did it. He finally fucking did it. Her boyfriend, now ex, had finally snapped and showed his true colors. Her bloodied lip and quickly bruising face a testament to his cruelty. He confessed that he was cheating and that he liked it. He called her a worthless excuse for a lover, then threw her back out in the snow without so much as a coat. The winter temperatures had continued dropping below freezing for the past several weeks and as shivers raked across her spine, she quickly realized she would surely freeze if she didn’t pull herself off the ground.

Ok Y/n where can you go?

Taylor is already stressed.

Dave will be angry.

Klaus will outright kill me if I go to Cami or Marcel.

With a groan, y/n pushed herself off the brick wall and up from the ground. Her stomach twisted in knots, as she resigned to her fate. Pulling out her phone only to find it dead, she cursed at the sky. Damn it. And so she walked, vigorously rubbing up and down her arms, hoping to whatever god would listen that she was going the right way.

Kol groaned as he stripped off his coat. Tugging a hand through his hair, he informed his brothers that he was going to go shower off the blood and then crash, and that he wouldn’t be joining them for there celebrations. Klaus only waved his hand, mumbling that there wouldn’t be one, he himself being eager to join his very pregnant wife in bed.

Although neither party were on particularly friendly terms, Marcel and the Mikaelsons were not actively trying to kill one another. This however, did not persuade a group of extremists from attacking the Mikaelsons in the name of “freeing Marcel from their compulsion”. Marcel was not compelled.

They were exhausted. This was the 4th attack in a week and it was only Wednesday. So Kol trudged up the stairs, careful not to track mud across the carpet (Rebekah would have his head), stripped his clothes and got in the shower where he allowed the hot water to relax his aching muscles.

Kol opened his eyes, consciousness slowly swimming back to him, as shivers ran down his spine. After having scrubbed off all the blood in the shower, Kol had gotten in the tub figuring he deserved the joy. Must’ve fallen asleep. He acknowledges. The water now cold, Kol gets out, and dries his hair but not after putting on gray sweatpants and his favorite sweatshirt, the one that y/n had gotten him for his birthday. His lips involuntarily curl into a smirk at the thought of his best friend and secret crush.

Regardless Kol yawns and flops onto his bed relishing in the warmth of his room, grateful for the modern invention of indoor heating.

I’m hungry. Should probably go eat s’mthin.

Just as sleep starts to wrap around Kol like a warm blanket, the door bell rings.

He frowns against his pillow and listens intently for the front door, trying to figure out who would be here at this ungodly hour. He is rewarded with a familiar voice pleading with something he can’t quite place, “Please Kol, just open the door”. Y/n?

And so Kol makes his way out and into the entryway, exasperated and sleepy, trying to figure out why his best friend would grace his doorstep at this time of night.

“This better be good” he said playfully as he swung the door open. However both his mood and face dropped quickly as he saw the state of the woman he loved. Her eyes were glossy as if she could she right through him, her eyelashes were clumped together where her tears had frozen, her lips and nails were a concerning blue, complementing the purple and black that marred across her cheek and she was shaking as if a gentle breeze could push her over.

“The hell? y/n?” he pulled the door wider, shock and panic starting to take hold.

“Sorry” she murmured, seeming genuine in her apology, “didn’t know where else to go”. And with that she collapsed into his arms.

“Fuck!”

When y/n woke up, it was not with a sudden gasp from her usual, frequent nightmares, or with the same clarity that one had after a good night’s rest. No, when y/n woke up her senses swam back like molasses. The first thing she notices is, its warm. She is wrapped in something warm and soft. Blankets, she concludes. The second thing she notices is the taste of copper and how thick it feels in her throat. Kol. gave hes blood i guess….Kol. She hums his name gently as she gets the vague feeling that she is forgetting something.

“Y/n?” Following the voice, the next thing she notices is the body pressed against her back. She hums again as she rolls further into its warmth. Her eyes flutter open and she is greeted with the face of her best friend and the man she has secretly loved while her boyfriend messed with her mind, filling it with lies. Lies claiming the she could never be loved. She smiles, “Kol”.

Pulling her closer to his bare chest, y/n now wearing his sweatshirt in an attempt to keep her warm, Kol gave a breath of blessed relief at the sound of her voice, “you had me worried, you were so cold, I didn’t think you were breathing.” He gave a half hearted chuckle. Y/n hummed happily as she snuggled backwards closer into the warmth of his body. Kol shuffled the blankets higher over her shoulders and took and careful breath.

“So do you wanna tell me why you appeared on my doorstep half frozen and bruised, without a jacket, in the dead of the night?” His words had an edge to them that he hadn’t intended, as he desperately tried to push away the image of her face marred by black and blue.

y/n stilled, suddenly wide awake, as her memory of tonight’s events came back in a flood. The pain, the heartbreak, the cold, all of it.

“y/n?” She choked back a sob, as the hatred of her boyfriend’s words starting echoing in her mind.

You’re useless and a waste of my time. Guess I was wrong, you can’t be loved. Not even by me!

“y/n”

The crash of the beer bottle was jarring but what was more jarring the punch thrown shortly after the bottle hit the wall.

“Y/n.”

His fist was in her hair now as tears streamed down her face. “Let me go!” she begged. “You’re hurting me. Let me go! Please!”. The door opened and she landed in the snow, as she was thrown out into the icy cold. “AND DON’T COME BACK YOU USELESS BITCH”. The door slammed shut.

“y/n!” Kol was now hovering over top of y/n, desperate to break through her distress. She took in a sudden breath and then a sob as she clung to him. Kol swore under his breath as he started rubbing up and down her sides and legs trying to get her to calm down.

“hey, hey. Its ok. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ll take care of you. I’m going to take care of you okay?”

Another breath, “Okay”.

“okay?”

“Okay.”

Several minutes passed before either spoke again. Y/n because she was to overwhelmed to speak and Kol because he was terrified he would scare her again. As y/n’s breathing evened out Kol laid back by her side and wrapped her leg over his hip as he pulled her closer to him. The intimacy of the gesture caused y/n’s guilt to bubble through into the silence.

“I’m sorry.” Kol was taken back by this.

“For what? Crying? Princess, Its OK, I shouldn’t have asked, I should have just let you sleep and then waited to talk in the morning.”

Y/n’s throat swelled tighter at the sincerity in his voice. “F-For being weak. For being a coward. For showing up on your doorstep at ass o’clock at night!” She said thickly.

Kol pulled back to look her in the eyes and he saw the pain and anguished guilt in her eyes, and all he could think of was how much he wanted to make it all go away.

“Baby girl, I love you, but you’re scaring me. What’s going on? Why were you outside? Why didn’t you have a jacket? How and where did you get the bruises from?”

“J-JJ kicked me out for being home late. A co-worker volunteered me for overtime. H-He hit me and confessed he was c-cheating.” She explained her tears were flowing freely now.

Anger flashed behind Kol’s eyes, and he pulled her tighter against him, like he was using his body as a shield from the outside world. “I’m gonna kill him,” He vowed lowly. “How dare he. How dare he fucking treat you like that”.

Y/n froze, not because of Kol’s vow, that was to be expect of any Mikaelson, but because of something else Kol just said.

“Wait, you love me?”

Now it was Kol’s time to freeze. His anger quickly over-taken by shock and the fear as he realized his slip up. He avoided her eyes in shame.

“y-yeah” his heart stuttering, “yeah I do. “ he whispered.

“Oh thank god. “

And then she kissed him.

#kol mikaelson x reader #february2021promptchallenge #kol mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol x reader #kol x y/n #kol mikaelson fluff #im kinda proud of this #please be nice i'm more confident with poetry #leigh wrote a fic

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

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I graduate high school next year and don’t have an idea of what i want to do with my life. I recently got this opportunity to volunteer at a library, torturing younger kids who need extra help with language arts and it’s something I think I would enjoy.

But it’s obviously going to he very time and energy consuming and I don’t know if it’s worth it, not because I don’t like it but because I COULD use that time to study and boost up my marks. I do a few other notable extracurriculars but my grades aren’t ALL A+ yet.

The thing is I procrastinate a lot and based on experience, chances are I won’t use that time to study but to think about it I COULD.

Having a commitment like joining clubs or even going to school helps me because it pushes me to do a specific task at a set time and so it gives my life a structure that’s otherwise hard for me to have (possibly because I MIGHT have undiagnosed ADHD).

But the thing is that i cant rely on that forever because then how would i function as an adult?

It’s so frustrating to have all these expectations and I know everyone says to just screw the expectations and the ones who have met the expectations always talk about how “it didnt make them happy” or “fulfill their lives” but the thing is that they ARE all already successful and if I adapt that “I live for myself and dont do things i dont enjoy” at this young age that there might be a higher chance of failure.

The thing is I can feel all this potential that I have and that everyone says i have but I’m just so tired and I’ve been so tired for a few years and I don’t even know how to stop being tired.

I spent my entire spring break doing absolutely nothing productive and school starts on monday and there’s so much i have to do that the anxiety is draining all my energy and the stress is making me panic so bad and I’m freaking out.

I feel so helpless and useless and I hate it but it’s like a really deep hole and I can’t seem to get out of it but only dig and fall deeper.

It's this thing, you know. You feel useless when you are not productive.

As if, "I didn't contribute anything so I am worthless."

Or even, "I didn't give something to the world today and therefore I don't deserve to feel good today."

We punish ourselves for not having our shit together.

I don't really know what to say. I sincerely hope you feel better though. I hope it gets easier.

But as someone has anxiety and has the same fears and who is now an adult, I can tell you this.

1. The fact that you feel like you need to have your shit together is not fair. Remember that. It's not fair. You are in school. You are LITERALLY a child. Be a child.

2. The assumption that "I'm gonna go to college/I'm gonna be an adult" and therefore "I need to figure out what to do or I need to have my shit together" - it's a bunch of bullshit.

Adults DO NOT have their shit together. I promise you.

But these intrusive thoughts are rather hard to get rid of. Just try to control what you can and take the rest of it as they come.

It's gonna be okay.

PS - The library thing sounds fun. You said you feel like you'll enjoy it. Make room for things in your life that will you enjoy. Cause the bad, stressful shit, it's not gonna go away. So, you are going to have to look for good shit yourself.

Sending love and strength!

#support

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buns-with-a-book · 4 years

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An Unexpected Visitor

For @dmcsecretsanta, I was the secret santa to @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate! So, here’s your gift!

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lady, Vergil, Nero (minor role)

Summary: It’s one snowy night, Lady and Dante are sharing a drink, and a stranger comes knocking at the door. Set after DMC3, based mostly on ppan_kyu’s twitter comic

Dante loved winter. Well, more specifically, he loved the festive season that came with winter. The sparkling lights, the music, the snow (he loved building snowmen, once upon a time), everything just seemed easier with the scent of candy canes in the air. He especially loved decorating the shop for the festive occasion, dealing with Lady’s amused face as he worked on putting up as much festivity as he could afford.

He tried the mistletoe. He got a punch in the face for that.

There were nights he wondered what became of his brother, Vergil. Six months prior, he had dragged his (screaming and writhing) brother from the crumbling Temen-ni-Gru, from the edge of the Underworld, back to civilization. He knew his brother hated it, being denied power, but he still cared for his twin. He certainly cared enough to drag his ass away from his own destruction in a world they had no idea what lay within.

After that day, he disappeared from his life. Dante was waiting for the news that his brother raised another weird hell structure and he had to go take care of it...but it would mean his brother wasn’t dead nor in the Underworld. A sliver of good that he would gladly take while on the way to whoop his twin’s ass again.

It was one snowy night, Christmas Eve, that he found himself in his office. Lady had brought in peppermint beer, a reward for one of her jobs, and brought it to ‘celebrate the season’. He figured she actually brought the beer to see how he would react to it.

Well. He drank it. That wasn’t really indicative of it’s quality or taste but he drank it.

“Well. Christmas.” Lady mused, as if it was one of those weighty subjects that held a significant amount of personal history that Dante never liked talking about. Some things could only really be talked about with family and Lady, although they were friends, was not family.

“Yep. The best holiday.” He said, trying to lighten the mood.

“What, because of the possibility of free shit?” Lady huffed, taking a swig. “Keep dreaming.”

“Aw, come ooon!” Dante whined. “Not just the possibility of free stuff! Although I’m not going to say no to free socks.”

“Why socks?”

“Can’t have enough socks!” Dante grinned. “Nah, I just...you know, awaiting my brother to come home. He liked Christmas too.” Lady let out a sigh.

“I would shoot him in the head.”

“Yeah, you can do that. Tell me how it turns out.” Dante replied lazily as he took another swig of peppermint beer. Lady let out a frustrated sigh, knowing well how it would turn out: not particularly effective. “But it’d be funny if you put a bullet in his skull like you did to me. We’d match, for once.” That pulled a small laugh out of her.

An aura suddenly caught Dante’s attention: familiar but damp from the snow outside. He fell silent, slowly standing from his desk. Lady noticed the change in his demeanor, the slow careful way he pulled himself up off his chair, and immediately pulled out a pistol. Dante slowly crept towards the door. He raised an eyebrow: why did he sense two? They were so similar...no, it couldn’t be.

He opened the door.

Standing in front of him, wrapped in a worn cloak, was his brother. He looked worse for wear than when he last saw him (but then again, what could be worse than a twin that looked like a cat that had just gotten soaking wet?). It was obvious he had been places, to where he did not know, but why was he here? And if his twin didn’t think he noticed the tiny bundle of black in his arms, then he was sorely mistaken.

“Dante.”

“Vergil.”

He heard Lady gasp behind him. Based on Vergil’s flinch, she must’ve held her pistol up with full intent to shoot.

“So.” Dante crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to bring out Ebony and Ivory, not yet. Vergil scowled, a hand reaching up to wrap around the back of the black bundle. “What brings you back here Verg?” Vergil didn’t immediately correct him which was...interesting.

“I need your help.”

“And why should I help you?” Dante leaned against the doorframe, eyes narrowed at his twin. More specifically, he was focused on the bundle that was starting to stir-

“He went this way!” A voice shouted a few alleyways away. “Don’t let him get away with his Holiness’ prize!” Vergil glanced back, a quickness that Dante knew was from terror.

Vergil? Terrified? Perish the thought.

“What the hell did you do this time.” Dante hissed. Vergil looked back to his twin, obvious panic in his silver-blue eyes. At that moment, the bundle began to make noise. Vergil pulled back the top, revealing a baby with snow-white hair and-

Oh. That would explain the second aura. That would mean- Oh.

“They’re after my son, Dante.” Vergil said, his voice soft like the snow that fell around them. “I don’t know how they found out he’s related to me, to us, to our father. I’ve been chased for days, I need a place to hide to protect him. You know I wouldn’t come here unless I was desperate enough-”

“Just get inside.” Dante said, standing aside. “You better tell us what happened.” He added as he quickly reached over to snap the lights of his shop off, to make it look like they were closed. Vergil quickly got inside, ignoring Lady’s shocked glare. Dante shut the door quickly (and actually made sure to lock it!). He guided the two upstairs to the spare bedroom, the only clean room in the building. Closing the door behind them, he turned on the light. Vergil carefully sat down on the bed, still on edge, still looking surprisingly frazzled, before he laid the babe on the bed. The infant, now freed of the black blanket that he had been wrapped in, wiggled and looked around with wide blue eyes.

“What’s his name?” Lady asked, finally breaking the quiet. Vergil glanced to her, suspicious for a moment before forcing himself to relax.

“Nero.” Dante looked to the wiggling baby and immediately noticed suspicious pinpricks in his arm. He looked to Vergil, who met his gaze. Vergil let out a sigh and returned his gaze to Nero. “When I returned to Fortuna, I sensed him. I thought I was being fooled but…” He pressed his lips into a thin line, a hand stroking Nero’s snow-white hair. The infant grabbed his fingers and began to gum on them, something that Dante would’ve expected Vergil to recoil in disgust. To his surprise, Vergil didn’t move his hand away from his infant son. Perhaps, already, Nero had wormed his way into his brother’s stone cold heart. Vergil let out a sigh and continued. “The ruling force of Fortuna, the Order of the Sword, they had already found out who his grandfather was. I found him, screaming for someone to hear him but being ignored.”

“So you sauntered on in and casually committed a felony. Or multiple.” Lady interrupted.

“They were hurting my son.” Vergil growled. “I could not let that stand.”

“...I’d do the same, to be honest.” Dante admitted sheepishly. “But look at him!” he gestured to Nero, happily gumming at his father’s fingers. Lady let out a sigh.

“...yeah…” She looked to the twins, both enamored with the baby Nero casually gumming on his father’s fingers. “Look, Dante, this place isn’t even close to ready for a baby-”

“I know.” Dante nodded, stretching. “I know. I’ll call Morrison tomorrow to update him on the news, tell him not to smoke here and all that.”

“It’s not just that Dante.” Lady pointed out. “Making the place safe is one thing. Actually raising a kid is another.” Her eyes glanced to Vergil, who was busy with Nero. However, Dante knew he was listening. “This is going on your tab.”

“Aww come-” He paused. “Actually, nevermind.” He waved his hand. Lady blinked, normally he never just...took whatever debt she threw on him without complaining. “Best Christmas ever.”

“Better than free socks?” She asked, with a hint of a grin on her lips.

“Better than free socks.”

#dmcsecretsanta2020 #dmcsecretsanta #devil may cry #devil may cry dante #devil may cry vergil #devil may cry lady #devil may cry nero

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taetaespeaches · 5 years

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“You know, in Casablanca he lets the girl go.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.6K

a/n: Hi lovelies! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but some of my Yoongi fics are kind of based around the same couple, and this is a continuation of that. This drabble is how Yoongi and reader meet, which is briefly mentioned in my drabble, “You do know you’re not actually a grandpa, right, Min?”

In addition to it being their first meeting, this is also where Yoongi first calls reader, Kid. I hope you all enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

THE corner shop wasn’t very busy for it being mid-afternoon. Grabbing a bag of baby carrots from the produce section, you made your way through the store, humming the tune of “Sir Duke” by Stevie Wonder, which had been stuck in your head for a couple days.

You scanned the aisle descriptions, searching for the greeting card aisle. It was your best friend’s birthday and despite having gotten the present a month ago, you put off getting a card until the very night of her birthday.

Still humming, you stopped at the end of the greeting card aisle, briefly getting distracted by a display of chocolate bars. Looking over the different flavors, you settled for a plain milk chocolate one, picking it up as you hummed. Turning into the aisle, you noticed the man standing further down the passage, his eyes directed towards you as you halted your humming, your cheeks going red in slight embarrassment.

The man’s gaze lingered for a moment before he turned back to the cards, a small sigh sounding from him. Your eyes stayed on him as you slowly walked further into the aisle, closer to him. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he scrutinized the cards, his sneaker adorned foot pointed outward toward you.

His bleach blond hair was parted in the middle, tucked underneath a blue beanie. He sported a black and white striped turtleneck underneath a red and blue plaid button up with ripped light wash denim jeans. Most of his face was covered by a white face mask.

Reluctantly, you shifted your gaze from the man to the cards on display, searching for the categories to find birthday cards.

Transferring your bag of carrots to the other side of your body, tucking it in under your arm, you picked up a card. The front was hopeful, but when you flipped it open and read the inside, you physically cringed at the sentimental sap it contained.

“Jesus,” you huffed as you put it back. Leaning towards the cards, your eyes were squinted as you slowly scanned the options.

However, your mission to find a somewhat decent card was compromised when you noticed the man stepping closer to you, placing himself within arms distance as he stared at the cards. For some unknown reason, his proximity made your stomach flutter in nervous fancy.

With him so close, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him, taking in his side profile. With the mask on, most of his features were concealed, but you were fascinated by the triangular shape of his eyes, appearing almost catlike. Do I know him? You thought, the longer you looked at him.

All but gawking at the poor man, he must have felt your peering eyes as he slowly turned his face toward you, making you panic, your eyes snapping back to the card display and picking up the first one your eyes landed on.

You swore you could hear the man chuckle underneath his mask as he slowly looked back to the cards himself. As you pretended to read the card, the man next to you sucked in some air through his teeth, almost sounding like disappointment or frustration.

Distracted by your embarrassment of being caught staring at the stranger, you didn’t feel the carrots slipping from your arm. When the bag fell to the floor with a thud, the man was quick to casually scoop them up, coolly tucking the bag back between your arm and your body before you could even react.

“Sorry, thank you,” you mumbled quietly, the man nodding in response, casting his eyes to the cards rather than you.

“Of course,” he spoke through his facemask. Something about him was very familiar but you couldn’t place it. A few more seconds of silence went by before he spoke up again. “Was that Sir Duke? Earlier,” he asked.

“Hmm?” You asked, snapping your head in his direction to meet his amused eyes. “Oh, yeah,” you nodded, looking back at the cards as he nodded as well.

“A bop,” you said quietly.

A small chuckle left the man’s lips making you smile in response. “What kind of card are you looking for?” He asked as he reached for one.

“Oh, a birthday card for my best friend,” you told him. He cast his eyes to the card in your hands that read So sorry for your loss. “Mm,” you hummed, holding back a laugh at the realization you were holding a sympathy card. “She hates birthdays,” you explained as you tapped your fingers against the card, the man letting out the cutest breathy laugh that made his shoulders shake.

“She must,” he quipped, putting the card he had looked at back. “When’s her birthday?” He asked, his eyes staying on the cards.

“Today,” you replied, wondering if you should defend your procrastination by explaining you’d had the present for a month. Before you could share your defense, he cast his gaze to you.

“Looks like quite the party,” he nodded towards the carrots and chocolate bar you held.

Looking down in confusion, you took a moment to realize he was talking about the two random items you held. “Oh these?” You met his eyes for the first time without either of you looking away nearly immediately. “Please, I’m not sharing this with her,” you grinned. “Do I look like the kind of girl who shares her baby carrots?”

At that, the man stood up a little straighter, his eyes crinkled at the corners making you want to see the corresponding smile underneath the mask. As if reading your mind, he pulled it down to rest underneath his chin, flashing you the most amazing smile, gummy, sweet, and adorable.

I know this guy, you thought as you registered his face, just trying to figure out where exactly you knew him from. “You know, it’s more difficult than you’d think,” he started, “to figure out who would share their baby carrots and who wouldn’t. You know, simply by looking at them that is.”

You bit back your ever-growing smile as you cocked your head at him. “Is that so?”

Nodding, he looked back at the cards. “You almost gotta get to know a person before you can just go around assuming they will or won’t share,” he said, an even bigger smile spreading across his face.

You allowed yourself to laugh at the silliness of the conversation before you put the sympathy card back. “What about you?”

“What, do I share my baby carrots?” He asked, flashing you a grin.

“No,” you smiled, a blush meeting your cheeks. “I am of the opinion that you can tell who would and wouldn’t share their baby carrots just by looking at them. Therefore, I don’t need to ask you that. I meant what kind of card are you looking for?” You asked him.

He flashed you an intrigued look, his eyes searching your face before he answered. “Ah, my friend is working on a pretty big solo project right now, I thought I might bring him something to congratulate him. I thought maybe a card?” He said while simultaneously asking for you thoughts.

“Oh, good for him,” you responded, looking around for the congratulation cards.

“Do people actually like cards anymore?” He asked as you quirked an eyebrow.

“Um, I hope so,” you giggled. “If not, I really fucked this birthday gift.”

The man’s shoulders shook again as that same breathy chuckle sounded from between his lips. Wow, that laugh is brilliant.

“No, yeah, I think people like cards still,” you returned to his question. “What’s better than getting a card with a handwritten message just for you. Whether for your birthday, or for one of your successes,” you gestured to the man, referring to his friend. “It’s special,” you shrugged.

A soft smile overtook the man’s features as he nodded once in either understanding or agreement. God, where do I know him from? Have we met before?

“I’m sorry,” you started, “You just look so familiar, have we met before or something? I apologize if I forgot, I’m not the best with faces,” you explained. “Or names really.”

There was a noticeable shift in his demeanor in response to your question, making your stomach churn in regret for whatever you said wrong.

“Uh, no, I don’t believe we’ve met,” he told you as he pulled his mask back over his face. The gesture felt like needles pricked your heart as it appeared he was hiding himself behind the mask.

In an attempt to return the easy-going banter you two had started to fall into, you grabbed the same sympathy card from before as well as the corresponding envelope. “Fuck it,” you shrugged, “she’s getting a sympathy card.”

The man’s head shifted the side as he let out a small giggle, a different laugh from before but just as cute.

“I think she’ll like it,” he responded, relief flooding your body at the sound of his voice. “It’ll at least give her a laugh.”

You nodded, looking at him as he allowed his gaze to find yours. “What’s inside is what matters anyway, right?” The man stared at you gently, his eyes full of curiosity and thought as he finally gave you a single nod. Cute.

It was at that moment that you placed where you knew him from. He was right, you had never met him before, but you had seen his face many times. Suddenly, the guard the man kept up made sense. It must be scary letting people in, never knowing their intentions. You observed the man for a moment, taking in how beautiful his eyes were. They were deep, wise, soulful. He was definitely guarded, you could tell that, but you knew discovering the real him would be worth the effort and time.

Breaking eye contact, you leaned towards the cards. “Ok, for your card,” you started as you scanned through the congratulatory ones. “How about.. this one,” you pulled one out and held it out for the both of you to look at.

The front of the card said a simple, “Congratulations!” with balloons. Opening the card, you both read the message, “Hard work, determination, perseverance, you are a rock star!”

“Ugh,” he groaned in disgust. “Rock star?”

Giggling, you pulled the card out of his reach so he couldn’t put it back. “Hey, I think it’s sweet,” you told him. “What, you never call your friends rock stars?” He rolled his eyes at you, showing the first little bit of his sassiness, and you couldn’t help but think you would love to see just how sassy this man could get.

“It doesn’t really matter what the card says, it just matters what you write inside. That’s the part your friend will care about,” you told him, making him raise his eyebrows.

“You’re a wise one, aren’t you,” he told you, his eyes crinkling, a smile hidden behind the mask.

You simply shrugged, beginning to walk down the aisle, the man coming with you, your arms bumping against each other’s.

As you both checked out, you with your three items, and him with his one, you kept stealing glances at each other, each of you sporting shy smiles, though you still couldn’t see his.

Exiting the store, you stood in front of each other, not knowing what to say but not wanting to walk away from each other.

Yoongi looked to the ground shyly and you could tell he was mulling over his options. Before he could overthink too much, you decided to break the silence.

“I have to be upfront with you,” you started nervously, not wanting to hide anything from him. He looked at you with widened eyes. “It took me a bit to figure out how I know you, but I finally made the connection in there. I don’t know, I just thought I should tell you that,” you finished worriedly, not sure how he would react.

Yoongi’s eyes scanned your features, pausing on your eyes as he studied you. He must have picked up on your nervousness, because he shook his head seemingly dismissing your concerns.

“You know of me, but you don’t know me,” he told you, holding his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Yoongi.”

There was that relief again, rushing through you as you reached your hand out. When your hand touched his, the relief was replaced with electricity, lighting you up. You told him your name, and he repeated it cutely.

“I would like to know you, Yoongi,” you told him, your cheeks heating up the longer he watched you, Yoongi’s tongue swiping over his lips as he intently listened. “I’m going to ask you out, but I don’t want your answer now.”

Yoongi continued staring at you in silence as he awaited your next words, intrigue and confusion swirling around his orbs.

“Are you free tomorrow morning?” You asked him, a bashful smile meeting Yoongi’s lips as he shyly touched his ear, nodding his head. “Ok, so if you want to get to know each other, meet me here tomorrow morning at 8:30. There’s no pressure, if one of us doesn’t show up, there’s no hard feelings.”

Yoongi’s eyes crinkled, and you once again wished you could see the gummy smile. Yoongi simply nodded before telling you, “Ok. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

You nodded, both of you giving each other an awkward wave before you turned around and started walking away, a dull ache in your chest. With every step you took, the ache became more prominent as the fact that you may never see Yoongi again made itself more present in your mind.

You almost looked back. And then…

“Hey,” Yoongi called out to you, halting your steps as you eagerly spun around to see he was already walking toward you. “What do you think? Am I the type of person who shares my carrots or not?”

Smiling widely, you looked down at your bag of carrots as Yoongi appeared right in front of you, within arm’s reach. Tearing open the bag, you held it out to him. “I think you’re like me,” you started, Yoongi’s eyes on the bag before they flickered up to your face. “You just have to trust a person, and once you do, you’ll give them all your carrots.”

Yoongi laughed, a completely different laugh from his other two, this one much fuller and less inhibited than the others. You gestured to the bag, silently telling him to take a carrot. Shaking his head, he reached his long fingers inside the bag and pulled out two carrots, offering one to you.

Pulling down his face mask, he flashed you that beautiful smile you were convinced you would never get used to. “Here’s looking at you, Kid,” he told you, tapping his carrot against the one between your fingers before bringing it to his mouth to take a bite as he started walking backwards away from you.

“Yoongi, was that a Casablanca reference?” you asked in pleasant surprise as you began walking backwards as well, Yoongi smiling widely with a shrug. “You know, in Casablanca he lets the girl go,” you told him with a smirk. “Is this gonna end up being a, we’ll always have Paris scenario? We’ll always have the corner market,” you teased, gesturing to the little store.

Yoongi shook his head, biting his lip to conceal his growing grin. “I’m no Humphrey Bogart,” he told you. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow, Kid,” he assured with a big smile. And with that, he had turned around and started walking in the opposite direction as you. You watched him for a moment before turning around as well, making your way towards your friend’s apartment.

“Kid,” you whispered to yourself. I could get used to that.

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positivementalaxolotl · 5 years

Text

Sand Boy 2.0 (Ripped Out)

Thanks to @gale-of-the-nomads for this fanfic idea and @papyreads for the support! Knowing you're interested is very motivating and uplifting! Also fuck you, Gale because I have other fanfics to be writing and you inspired me to procrastinate those. (Lol jk thanks dude for your permission!) Hope you enjoy! (Warning: Blood and descriptive injury and lots of angst)

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Another day, another akuma, another miraculous ladybug and another pound it. Hawkmoth had been very lacking in creativity. He'd been akumitizing so many of the same people, and giving them the same powers, not altering them or anything. I mean, yeah their powers are based off of the victims emotions and trauma, but Hawky could change the power and still fit in, not to mention you'd think there would be more people in Paris going through some real emotional shit that could really make a powerful akuma. Not that Marinette was complaining of coarse. It all made it so much easier to handle being a superhero and a high school student and a bakers assistant and a fashion designer. A nice nights sleep would be sure to help her out in her duties. It was crazy, really. She had gotten so used to everything, it was always Mr. Pigeon, Lady Wi-fi, Miracle Queen, Volpina, all of them. Though in reality there was one she forgot she hadn't seen in a while. She woke up to a panicked text from her parents. She had it so her phone would chime louder if her parents called her or texted her. She was super lucky she did. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have gotten info of an akuma. *Marinette, are you okay?* After that, her father seemed to spam her. *Please answer, Marinette!* And it went on and on until she assured him she was okay and asked why he was so scared all of a sudden. *We got a call that you had been kidnapped by Hawkmoth! With all of these akumitizations we had to be sure.* She looked to her purse and shook the chain that was looped around the edge of the foot of her bed. She assured him that she was safe and he should go back to sleep, and wished him goodnight before going onto the room to see if she could see anything. On the room, she looked around and saw a familiar mist. Glittery yellow and going into peoples homes. It could only be Sandboy! That poor kid had to have been watching scary movies again. It probably took so long after the first time because he was too scared to do it again, especially after finding himself in the middle of nowhere that very same night. "Tikki, we have an emergency!" She declared in a hushed enough tone that no one else could hear, but still got across the fiery determination she always felt when she was needed. "Tikki, Spots on!" ------------------------------ When she arrived to the fight, Chat was already there. He was trying to slow the boy down, but those wafts of sand moved on their own and avoided Chats baton on every hit. "M'Lady! Glad you could finally join me!" He called, smiling as he used that same metal stick to vault his way over to the spotted heroine. "Last time we beat him because of how dumb my nightmare you was. This time... I'm not entirely sure that we'll have that kind of luck. Nightmares change all the time after all." "And what's your nightmare, Chat?" The lady asked out of pure hope that they could use it to their advantage again. Totally not concern. He smirked, deciding it wasn't important to be serious in such a moment. "Well, not being able to call you my bugaboo, of coarse!" Giving his normal wink. His lady of coarse rolled her eyes. How could she not see that coming? "A nightmare? Then you're living in one, Chat." Despite her harsh-ish words, she didn't sound mad or upset or even slightly annoyed. Maybe a little bad, even. "The sand boy just checked in, now nightmares can begin!" The boy chimed, looking to the two superheroes. Though blue eyes noticed that the villains gaze wasn't directly at them, more like he was looking behind them. With a quick turn, she saw a mother and her baby in a stroller. The mom was shaking and covering her baby as she frantically tried to pull the baby and run, though Sand Boy shot a bullet of sand towards them. What could a lady do other than save a mother in need? She was brave, jumping in front of the line of fire, but she knew it would come at a cost. At first she was worried she wouldn't be able to call onto her lucky charm, but when she noticed her Yo-yo working fine, she seemed confused. "What? But it wasn't working last ti-" Her words cut off. With the simple sound and yet another familiar voice caused the girl to freeze. Luckily the mother was able to run, but Ladybug found herself unable to as she heard a little diddy sang. She could tell it was soft and farther away, yet it sounded like it was playing directly next to her ear at the exact same time. She shook, and she could tell Noir was staring. "A little kitty on a roof," the voice played, "All alone without his lady~" She slowly looked up to a nearby building to see those eyes. Disturbingly blue and icy gaze looking right back. "There you are, M'lady!" He called as he jumped down. "I have to admit, I've been fee-line lonely since you abandoned me in that other time line. You never came back to me and I was left all alone!" She backed away, shaking her head as tears threatened to prick out of her eyes. She needed to look strong! For Chat and Hawkmoth. "I-I'm not-" "Scared of me? Oh but M'lady I think you are. You're so scared that... You might fail me. Fail Paris- the world even. You know that if I find out your identity then you will have to go through the same thing... Over and over and over-" "Stop it!" That same voice interrupted itself, but it was far less cold. "M'lady, what's going on? I thought your worse fear was losing your-" And then before another word was spoke, before anyone could finish a single sentence, Sand Boy shot another pound of sand at the Chat, smirking. "Shit..." He called. He could already feel it. The bracelet on his wrist. His trust in Ladybug represented so clearly on his arm- if anything happened, he knew Ladybug would figure him out. But it was far too late anyways. "Chat!" His lady called from an entirely different direction than she was already visibly seen. Right behind him, in a state much like the Ladybug senti-monster was when he first came to her aide. A peacock flying away as she laid on the ground. "I... I don't feel too good... My Chat Noir-" Both the heroes now occupied, Sand Boy could easily use these nightmares to get those jewels for him. That in itself would be far worse than any nightmare they could even know. The real Ladybug was being backed up and taunted. "Oh Bugaboo, you know if you give me your miraculous we can fix everything! We can get rid of all the negativity in the world and make peace with everyone. We could be happy to together like we were before!" Finally, our spotted heroine was against a brick wall. Her heart was racing and her limbs were trembling. She couldn't fight him- it was her partner. Even if a nightmare, she felt so guilty- like she deserved any heart break that came to her, like she deserved to have harsh words thrown at her, like she deserved this torture of knowing she let everyone down. No, none of it happened. It was all fixed, but it just showed how capable she was of fucking up again. And as Chat Noir bent down to cradle his fake lady in his arms, his own nightmares, the real one felt the rough terrain of brick against her back move as she slide down, silently sobbing as she stared at the twisted grin her akumatized partner shared with her. "M-M'Lady?" Noir cried as fake bug reached up and caressed his cheek. He couldn't lose her- not again. So many times watching her disappear in front of his eyes, he couldn't do it again. And yet, as she faded away in a wisp of dust, still knowing what would happen, he reached down to that piece of metal at his wrist. But it was no longer there. In actuality it was never there to begin with. It was never meant for him, it was meant for Luka. Looking up, he watched Ladybug running to him, she looked panicked and lost. He quickly stood and reached to grab her, but his hand only met air as the limb of the woman slowly disappeared, fingertips to shoulder, then shoulder to chest, and spread through her body like blood pumps through veins. His heart ached as and dropped, every time his lady appeared and died...He felt himself get lost in what to do. He could only stand and watch as they all fell down, screaming to himself as he reached for his bracelet over and over again, knowing what the outcome would be but hoping it wouldn't. And yet through the haze of dust and tears, he saw her. One white clawed hand reaching down, followed by another for the sides of her head as they went in for the earrings. And suddenly, all the others didn't matter. She had been staring at him, whereas he knew her eyes were previously on the other. She saw him reach, she saw him panic and saw him scream the words he was so tired of using. After over twenty-five thousand times, it gets old. But he needed to focus. Right now, there was a bigger problem to solve. "Ladybug!" Noir called. Dashing to the others side, he used his metal baton to flick the white cat to the side, to remove him so he could pick up his lady, support her and help her stay balanced. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry for-" "Not now, Chat! Right now we need to get rid of this nightmare..." She spoke through quivering lips. As expected, the nightmare wasn't wasting time to come back up, strutting to them from the other side of the street. "Tsk tsk tsk, M'Lady. You're still fighting it? Still fighting me? Against the inevitability of your partner finding you out?" She gulped, pigtails bouncing with the force of her throat as it processed her saliva. Chat Noir didn't flinch, instead held himself in front of her, keeping her safe from him. "Whatever you mean by that, leave her alone." "Oh of coarse! You weren't there... Or shall I say it... Wasn't the place and time." He snickered, distracting them from a looming threat getting closer, step by step. A paw out, a small energy ball erupted into existence. "She's not afraid of a little kitty cat. She's afraid of love, and afraid of what it would do to the world as a hero. You see," He continued, not once looking over to give away anything sneaking up behind the two. "I found out who she is. And although she doesn't know how since she doesn't know who you are, she does know that if you find out her secret identity before the right time, you'll destroy the world, kill everyone, explode the moon and make the ocean drown everything. And she's scared, because she knows our love did it. It was all because she fell in love with you." She flinched, looking down at the ground. Because it was true. But... Now she knew something she hadn't before. "Chat Blanc," The heroine called, "Maybe I'm scared of him finding my identity out. Maybe I'm scared for my future, but I'm not longer scared of love. I know who you are now, and I think I know how you came into existence." She took a deep breath, stepping forward away from Noir, watching her steps carefully. Of coarse, she wasn't stupid. "You saved my life so many times, Chat. I never meant to upset you, and I never should have let you find me out, but now I know how to stop it. How to keep you from making my nightmare an irreversible reality." Turning around, the hero looked towards the black cat. She reached up and gently rubbed her friends cheeks with her thumbs. "Adrien. I should have known it was you all along. Brave and smart, funny when you want to be. That one time you solved an akuma attack speaking Chinese and fencing, even having the same allergies. I should have found out sooner." She pulled her face closer and closer to the others, who was nervous. Ladybug... She really was in love with him? She loved him now that she knew he was Chat. She didn't love him for him. "LB, Chat Noir is more 'me' than anyone named Adrien could be." She smiled, shaking her head. "I'm afraid of what my love will cause. Well... I was. But now I don't need to be. I'm in love with you Chat. I was just so scared of what our love would do, like when it destroyed the world in another time line. I wanted to tell you but I've been so terrified." There seemed to be a never ending train of water escaping her eyes as she went on. "Scared that I would hurt you. But now I know how to stop it, how to avoid it." This time, Adrien didn't stop her. He didn't tense or shake or pull away. He held her close, and pulled her closer, until finally their lips- -Didn't meet. Something happened. Something that he couldn't describe. One moment, Ladybug was there leaning up to kiss him, the next moment she was yanked away from him and on the floor as she appeared to transform back. She wasn't unconscious or dead, she was very much awake- though from the looks of her ears she probably wished she were. Her earrings were yanked from her ears and her cries were now pained and nearly screams as blood ran from them. And suddenly, his Ladybug became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Eyes went wide, he had forgotten all about his own nightmare. Losing the love of his life and forgot that there was still another threat. And right next to his own evilized self was his own image of Ladybug. But now, she had holes where her earrings should have been, and she wore pink pants, a white shirt, black jacket, and no mask. She smirked just as eerily as her partner as they bumped fists, mocking their normal victory 'pound it.' "Of you scatterbrained cat, you really forgot about me? How could you..." She looked away, lost and upset. This version of her had died so many times, she seemed to have a hazy hole through her stomach, as if impaled. "I'm hurt... You never saved me. Not once in over twenty-five thousand times, months of work. All for nothing and proof that you aren't meant for me. We aren't made for each other, and that's what hurts the most." After that and seeing Marinettes sobbing form on the ground as she profusely apologized for not paying enough attention, he lost his normally cool temper. Using his baton he would swing and clash and smack every chance he had to get rid of these monsters. Several minutes of trying and attacking for naught, as he failed each time. He was losing breath, and Marinette needed medical attention. But before he could pick her up, she pushed him away. "My earring, Chat. Get them back- I-I can't use my miraculous ladybug- You have to do it. My ears- I can't put them on- I'll be better when you use them, please." She sobbed. The dark haired girl couldn't bare the pain as her ears rang, irrefutably getting more infected as time went on. Chat trusted her blindly, as he always had. He went over those damn nightmares and gave it his all- his lady needed him and he couldn't help but put everything he had into it. And finally his hard work paid off. He hadn't caught them, but the faded girl had tripped and thrown one of them by Chat. With only one earring, he couldn't transform, but... He did have an idea. It was a very sharp object. And his baton would again, save the day. Using said stick, he extending himself into the air, Sandboy had been caught off guard as Chat jumped towards the pillow and used said sharp object to tear the pillow. He had almost dropped the earring since the material was so tough, but he managed to get a big enough hole that his hands could tear though it the rest of the way, catching the little boy before he fell to the ground. Rushing over to where Marinette was- well the fake one, he found the missing earring and ran back to Marinette. "M'Lady? Can you hold this for me?" He said as he removed his ring and handed it to Mari. "I don't want to accidentally cause the end of the world by bringing them together, you know?" He laughed softly, hoping the happy sound might draw out a smile. And although she tried, her head hurt too bad to smile or laugh. "Silly Kitty, thank you." He smiled and put the earrings on, a small and familiar creature appearing. "Marine-tte..!?" The kwami started as a yelp, but ended in a question, as both the holders were very much unmasked and seeing each other. "A lot happened, okay?" Plagg started, having been able to tell what happened based on Marinettes state. And the fact that his miraculous was still on his wearer so he could see everything that happened. "Don't worry, bud. Just do what you have to." He grinned. He knew what would happen. Adrien stood, not really realizing what exactly would happen. He called on a lucky charm which gave him a paper and pencil. He was a little surprised, but Plagg seemed to know what to do. Taking it, he wrote a little note. The boy was bewildered, but nonetheless let the black creature scribble away. Once it was handed back, with the note torn out, it was tossed in the air, words were spoken and ladybugs appeared out of nowhere. But when faced with it, Adrien couldn't remember what happened. Why was Plagg holding a piece of paper? Why was he in Bug boy form and why was Marinette crying on the ground? "Oh my- what happened?" He panicked and watched as Plagg looked, noticed Marinette there, and handed Adrien the note. Bug Boy didn't have time to read it though, he just picked up the sobbing girl and carried her all the way to the hospital where they quickly took her in. They kept asking about what happened, why was she all beat up and had her ear lobes torn. He answered as truthfully as he could, but he didn't know a lot of answers. So he referred to the note, hoping it would enlighten him. "Dear Chat Noir, I had entrusted Marinette with the Ladybug Miraculous for an emergency on my end that was unavoidable. If I hadn't, it would have given away my identity. I was informed by another kwami I had brought with me that something was wrong and I saw everything that happened. Hawkmoth almost got her earrings but you saved them. She couldn't perform the Miraculous Ladybug with her ears in the shape they were in but you stepped up. I wrote all of this down and had it sent by the horse miraculous to let you know what happened, since I knew that everyone would forget with the power of the miraculous Ladybug. Thank you, Bug Boy again for saving the day. I'm sorry but I will be back soon. In the meantime, have Plagg send me back the earrings. He knows where I am since I rushed back just in time. Please remember to get the black cat miraculous back from Marinettes finger. You had given it to her to protect herself after her earrings were stolen. Love, Ladybug." The hero smiled. He was glad he could be of service. He let the nurses know what happened and took the ring back, then went off home and de-transformed. "Here, Plagg." He said and laid back against his bed. He felt a little... Shaken and he didn't know why. His heart was racing, he was tired and scared. Though he passed it off as being worried for his friend. When the kwami came back, Adrien told him about how he was feeling about what happened. He didn't know what happened, but it still seemed to have some kind of affect on him. And once Marinette woke up from the surgery that had to be performed on her ears, she knew that whatever happened had affected her too. Her ears were fixed but she was told not the wear the earrings for at least six weeks. Six whole weeks of not being allowed to save Paris, and it sucked so much. Luckily, the two kwamis were able to arrange something so the two could switch earrings secretly and not find out about each other, but it was so weird. And she still couldn't help but think about it. How she felt. The night they met in the catacombs under Paris, they were on either side of a turned edge so they couldn't see each other, and gave each other the miraculouses by sliding them across the floor in their boxes. Who knows how Plagg was able to convince Adrien that Ladybugs ears were fine but they needed to trade miraculouses. "Hey Chat?" The lady question. "Yes, M'Lady?" He answered. She felt so much less afraid of her feelings. How they would affect their mission. "I may be a bit late on this, but I just wanted you to know that I'm in love with you." It sounded so much better in her head, blunt sounded like a girl confessing her love to a boy that shared his oreos with her. "I mean-" "I understand." Chat said, putting the earrings on. "And I'm happy you feel the same. If I'm to be honest, I feel more myself as Chat Noir. Though, I guess for a while I'm going to have to be Bug Boy again, huh?" The two laughed. It lasted a few moments, and then it died down. "I'm still in love with you. You're not late, but... How would this whole thing work? We aren't allowed to find out our identities and we can't use our miraculouses for personal use." The sigh Lady Noir let out was dragged out. "I didn't think that far ahead." It was true though. "I guess we don't have any choice but to wait until Hawkmoth is defeated." And suddenly, the blond felt an impending doom fall over him. He knew that they would be fighting Hawkmoth for a long time, as Time tagger had taught them. He felt so hopeless. But he knew it was for the best. A least until he saw a black flutter stop in front of him.

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ivyquinzel · 4 years

Text

I’m bored, so The Killjoys based off of how I’m writing them in my fanfic

I’m doing this purely to procrastinate. I’d take pictures of my notes, but my handwriting is small and pretty dense so it doesn’t show up well on cameras. They all have actual backstories and shit, this is just my personal reference to try to keep them all in character

Also, they are not the band members. I’m writing funpoison but I don’t ship frerard. They act the characters, but the killjoys are different people, so while they might be influenced by their actors, they are not the same. Like Misha Collins with Castiel, or any other actor.

Party Poison (they/them)

· Loud

· Adventurous

· Probably ADHD

· Bold

· Strong Willed

· Remembers random things about their friends

· Natural leader

· Snappy/Angry when upset

· Confident

· Dramatic

· Loyal

· Whiny when tired

· Energetic

· Insults like a fifth grader, points for trying though

· Ambitious

· Artist, gets carbons from commissions

· Distractible

· Doesn’t sleep much because of nightmares

· Likes to pretend they don’t have emotions instead of dealing with them

· Stubborn

· Argumentive

· Disorganized

· Likes to keep hair tied up

· Scared of heights

· Fidgets a lot

· Kids like them

· They like bad jokes

· Good at cooking

· Favourite kind of art is sketching/pencil art

· It annoys them to no end that Kobra is taller

Fun Ghoul (He/Him)

When he first escapes the city

· Quiet

· Skittish

· Confused about pretty much everything

· Worried about getting in trouble with other Zone Dwellers

As he gets used to the Killjoys

· Still kind of skittish

· And he moves almost silently, which startles the others often

· His voice is naturally quiet/soft, but he doesn’t like silence, so he yells a lot

· Sarcastic

· Impulsive

· Likes to climb things just to see if he can

· He’s terrified of being alone, he gets at least a little anxious if he can’t see at least one of his friends

· Adaptive

· Refuses to sit properly or in the proper places

· Doesn’t sleep more than a few hours a night, but you’ll often find him curled up on the couch taking a nap

· He’s basically a cat. But louder. Also, he loves animals

· Self-doubting

· Good with technology and mechanics

· Always alert and a light sleeper

· Hard working

· Slightly gullible

· Jet teaches him guitar

· Most prone to panic attacks

· Tilts head when confused

· He’s almost always warm

· Knows and will recite random facts

· Likes to help the others with pranks

Kobra Kid (He/Him)

· Petty

· Irritable

· Smart

· Decisive

· Likes to plan things out

· Dedicated

· Generous

· Honest

· Neat

· A nerd, and he reads the same books and comics as me because fuck you

· Productive

· Rational

· Good with math and numbers

· Skeptical

· Will fight a bitch

· Likes fantasy and superhero comics/books

· Surprisingly good with kids

· Isn’t allowed to drive because he can’t drive

· They just like him, nobody knows why, but he likes them too even if they are annoying

· “Fight Me”

· Like 99% of Poison and Ghouls impulse control

Jet Star (He/Him)

· Agreeable

· Very good at fighting but doesn’t like it

· Calm

· Clever

· Empathetic

· Clear-Minded

· Focused

· Tags along on the dumb plans so the others don’t get too impulsive

· Won’t talk about past unless he has to (Haha I know what it is motherfuckers, I wrote the backstory)

· Born in the Zones

· Logical

· Reliable

· Morning person

· Teaches Ghoul guitar

· Resourceful

· Accidentally blunt

· Selfless

· Keeps a journal

· Thinks out loud

· People think he’s the mom friend, but he’ just doesn’t get caught

· Dislikes holding still or sitting down, paces often

· Ace/Aro

· You can never tell if he’s being serious or not… it could be a joke, but he could also be 100% serious. He thinks it’s funny to watch them try to figure it out

· He’s always cold and will lay on his friends to warm up, especially Ghoul because he’s warm

Show Pony

· Crop tops and dresses

· Roller Skates

· Bad plans that shouldn’t work but do

· Likes to think things through

· Switches between living with the Killjoys and Dr. D/Cherri

· Likes to do other peoples make up and dress them up

· Cannot fix anything mechanical or electronic

I don’t really know how to describe Pony. They’re gay and they just want to vibe.

#jet star #fun ghoul #party poison #kobra kid #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #the fabulous four #the fabulous killjoys #killjoys headcanon #danger days #danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys

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a-secondhand-sorrow · 4 years

Text

when things start changing (we'll be changing with them)

(read on ao3)

The night of her graduation, Zoe steps into her backyard and is greeted with the sight of her boyfriend sitting at the base of a tree, eagerly demonstrating to her little cousin how to fold the dandelions sprouting around the base of the tree into a proper flower crown.

She can’t help the smile that comes to her face at the sight of him, sprawled out onto the grass as though he were designed to be there. Zoe has seen Evan Hansen in almost any scenario: folded into chairs, cross-legged on harsh tile, standing in a crowd and by himself and tucked neatly by her side. She considers herself well-versed in the many ways he can occupy a space. It’s something she prides herself on, her general knowledge of him and how he may look in any given scenario. There’s something so beautiful about the way he exists - even though it can be cramped, contained, and achingly hopeful that he’ll just be ignored, she can see the beauty even in those moments. And when he unfolds it’s even better. When he sits up a little straighter, lets his legs rest unlocked, and his hands - moving even when completely relaxed - make slower, more confident journeys around their surroundings, she’s reminded of just how far he’s come from the anxious senior tripping over his own thoughts every time he opened his mouth in the course of two school years.

From where he lays sprawled on the grass, he looks almost relaxed. The grass doesn’t seem to bother him, and his legs are crossed gently with one foot under his right knee while he leans over, his always-moving hands quick and gentle over the stems of the dandelions. She can hear snippets of his words, quick and defined but still somehow low and soothing. He’s actually a very good storyteller, especially around little kids. By the sharp giggles that float over her mom’s gardenias and the stone patio pavement to greet her, he’s pulled out his skills to wax poetic on the method.

In one fluid motion (and wow, she never thought she’d be using the word fluid to describe any movement Evan Hansen made) he twists off the crown and drops it onto the little boy’s head. For a moment, the light caught by the dandelions seems to radiate through the kid, and she can only stare while he hops up and runs off to boast to the other kids, who are playing on the old, creaky swing set. Evan watches him run, the amusement and gentleness on his face fading so slowly a person less versed in Evan Hansen wouldn’t have even noticed. His eyebrows furrowed, meeting to deepen the crease in his forehead, and her stomach dropped with his hand’s descent to trail at his shirt hem, twisting and pulling in his constant, quiet gesture of anxiety. Before she tells her legs to move, she’s already across the patio and halfway to where Evan sits. Her footsteps are nearly silent in the cushioned grass, but Evan’s eyes turn to her before she can fully reach him anyway as though he could feel her nearby. Automatically, she feels her lips curl into a grin, one that his gaze lingers on for a moment; she’d applied a new, slightly darker lipstick for the occasion, redder for spring and for graduating and for the yellow sundress she also donned, and she knows that he thoroughly enjoys the novelty of it just as he seems to enjoy her in all forms.

She sinks to sit next to him, indifferent to her dress, letting her legs cross at the ankle stretched out in front of her. “That’s cute,” she says, by way of greeting.

The responding shrug is felt against her shoulder, where the fabrics of their respective tops snag a little with Evan’s movement. “It’s easy. Little kids are cute, so whatever you give them is cute too.”

“Tarantulas? Scissors? Stomach flu?”

“I...yeah,” he mutters, and she laughs. “I guess those aren’t so cute.”

“You’re right, though. Mostly. They are cute.” She turns her head away from her cousins and looks to his face in profile. The summer sun seems to soak into the smooth brown skin stretched over his cheeks, and he blinks quickly. “I didn’t know you could make flower crowns.”

“I am a man of many talents.”

“Hidden depths, as they say.”

“Like an onion,” Evan lets his head drop so his cheek rests on the top of her head.

“An apt metaphor. All of those onions lying around with their depth, no layers to be found. Point to the writer for the fantastic metaphor.”

He laughs, but it’s a little weak. When he responds, his voice is low. “Shrek has me mixing up my metaphors.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” she murmurs back. She drops a hand to his thigh, warm even through his jeans. “What’s up?”

He shrugs again. “Parties just - they aren’t really my crowd.” And then, as though realizing a possible situation in which anyone could take a bit of offense, he rushes to neutralize it. “I mean, I didn’t mean to, like, take off, I just. It was kind of a lot and it sucks because it’s your party and I want to celebrate you but, you know.”

Zoe is just thankful he’s not apologizing - even a few months before, that would’ve been riddled with apologies that he didn’t need to give. “No, I get it. It’s a lot of people, and they’re not even nice, they’re just - my family. There. Being a lot. I’m glad you left when it was too much.” But he doesn’t un-tense, and his fidgeting persists, so she does, too. “I’ve barely had a chance to talk to you today.”

“Well, it’s been busy.”

“I know, but I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” he says immediately, with a sudden ferocity in the tone she never would’ve expected. His hands still, and he lifts his head from hers to pull back and look her in the eye. “Zoe, please don’t - don’t feel bad for living your life and accomplishing things, okay? Because I’m here even when none of that is happening.”

She blinks once, slowly, and nods a top-to-bottom nod. “Okay,” she says, her eyes flicking over his expression. His lips thin into a line, and it’s then and there that she decides for blunt honesty over anything else. “I don’t - I don’t feel bad for that. I don’t...that wasn’t the right word to use. I just meant that I...I miss you. And it’s stupid because I’ve seen you all day, it’s not like we’re long separated and pining or…” She thinks of the acceptance letter sitting on her desk, the train tickets already booked for mid-July, the textbooks and purple-and-gold paraphernalia she’s yet to buy, and she wonders if the trove of emotion she’s just struck in her own chest is the same one that Evan is feeling. “I’m proud of myself and I’m happy to graduate, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rather be sitting here and making flower crowns with you.”

Evan shakes his head, a quick, uncertain thing. “I don’t - you can’t mean that.”

“What?” she responds, trying to duck her head to catch his eye, but he won’t look at her. “I mean it. I mean it wholeheartedly. We only have...we only have so much time left. I don’t want to miss it.”

He swallows harshly, and Zoe realizes that this is what was really on his mind. Her departure date for NYU is scheduled for a little over a month later. She reaches for his hand.

“I know things are changing,” Evan says finally. “And that’s...that’s okay.”

“‘Change is okay,’ said Evan Hansen, never,” Zoe says, only half-joking.

“No, I...I mean it.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I’m okay with it,” he says more firmly. “I know it has to happen. I know it’s good. NYU is your dream, Zoe. I’d never dream of not wanting you there. We’re changing along with everything else.”

This time, she’s the one who swallows harshly. “I know we are. I wish that…I wish that you could come with me. I want NYU, but I don’t know if I’ll make it through without you.”

“You will,” he says. “You’re the strongest person I know, Zoe.”

“But-”

“You can - please don’t let me hold you back.”

She stills. “What?”

“I-” Evan looks so different than he did before, so much more uncertain. His hands are fidgeting again, and she reaches over to rub circles into the back of his hand. “I can only think that I could be holding you back. I mean, I’m working at Pottery Barn, the most boring of all stores. Community college is the best I’ll ever do. I don’t know if I, I’m not certain when I’m gonna leave this town. So don’t - I would absolutely hate it if I thought you were waiting for me. It’s the other way around. I’m waiting for you, okay? Because I want you to - to go to NYU, and have the time of your goddamn life. And I just want you to know that I’m always here, no matter how long it is, no matter how much you change. I’ll change with you. I’ll learn. I’ll-”

“Hey,” Zoe says gently to cut him off. She reaches forward to him, and he reaches for her like a little kid clutching a stuffed animal, like someone coming home after years away, like he’s afraid she might disappear. As he buries his face in her neck and her arms tighten around him, she realizes that this is not Evan panic. This is - this is Evan sadness and Evan worry. About her.

After stroking his hair for a moment, she speaks. “I promise you, I won’t stop doing things on your account. You have my word. But I’m not going to get up there and forget about you, Evan. I’m going to think about you - probably too many times to be healthy, to be honest, and I’ll force you to Facetime with me at all hours when I’m procrastinating and you’re trying to convince me to just do the damn work, and I’m going to keep loving you and I’m not once going to doubt that you’re still here.”

Evan nods against her shoulder, and she continues. “You’re my North Star, Evan,” she whispers. “I could pick you out from anywhere, and you’ll always be the brightest light I see.”

“You’re the same for me,” he whispers, his breath hot against her skin.

“I mean it. I’m coming back to you no matter what,” she says, her words low but her tone sharp. “Nothing could stop me from coming home to you.”

He pulls away after another moment and sighs. “We should probably get back in. I know your mother spent weeks planning this.”

“More like planning since I was in elementary school,” she says with a sigh to match Evan’s. As he moves to stand, she reaches out to grab his hand and halt his progress. “Not so fast, though,” she says, tugging him back down towards her. She’s not quite ready to give up this, his skin on hers under the June sun.

When he just raises an eyebrow, she raises one to match it. “Don’t I get a flower crown?”

His laugh is sudden and bright, an explosion of color against a grey conversation. “Of course,” he says around a wide smile. “It’s your day, after all.”

“Along with the other two-hundred students.”

“Yours and yours alone.”

“Oh, well, if you insist.”

As Evan sits down again and his fingers find purchase with the many small flowers popping up around them, Zoe allows herself to just look at him and be okay. There’s no pressure in their little haven around the tree, and in that comfort she thinks of her words from before. I’ll come home to you.

She can’t help but think that the boy across from her is more of a home than the house they sit outside of, and when he presents her with her flower crown and presses a kiss to her cheek, she’s only more certain of it.

#deh #dear evan hansen #bandtrees #zoevan #evan / zoe #evan hansen #zoe murphy #mine #dear evan hansen fanfiction #dear evan hansen fanfic #my work #so will i #inspired by #ben platt

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act-addict-actors-matchups · 4 years

Text

@lcst-at-5ea said,

Could I have a matchup please? I'm kinda short, I have dark eyes and short, straight black hair in a pixie cut. I'm a pretty chill ambivert, and I like art! I like to think that I'm funny, haha, but I'm also a massive procrastinator. I don't really have a type, other than dumbasses. I love them. I LOVE cuddles!! I'm obsessed with pirates, and I like acting and mythology, and drawing. I'm a Taurus, a Ravenclaw, and I'm an INFP, I think. Also, I'm a minor!

✧ Thank you for requesting a matchup, love. Stay safe and positive! 💞

✧ WARNING: there will be spoilers about Tenma’s backstory in ‘How You Two First Met’ part. Read at your own risk.

I’d match you with: . . .

➜ HOW YOU TWO FIRST MET ; Your first encounter with each other was in your elementary school. You weren’t close with each other though. In fact, he didn’t even know you existed back then. You, on the other hand, knew the name Tenma Sumeragi. I mean, who wouldn’t? Even from such a young age, it was possible to see his face on TV. His acting abilities were far from normal for a boy in his age. From his gestures to his facial expressions to his voice, everything was as good as it could be. So, needless to say you were not surprised when you heard that he got a major role for his class’s play for the the school festival. Something you were very excited for. Not only you were going to be free from some of the classes, you’d also get to see a play. Basically two birds with one stone. Even from such a young age, you were interested in the art of acting. So it really wasn’t that surprising when your friends found themselves getting dragged to somewhere near the stage the school put out. You really wished your class would do a play too but sadly, that wasn’t the case. After a while, the play started and you found yourself getting sucked into the story. That was until a boy with orange hair got to the stage. Tenma Sumeragi, to be more exact. You’ve seen the movies he was in before so you excitedly waited for him to say his line, just like everybody else did. To your surprise though, he was standing still, his purple eyes full of fear and panic. The red curtains closed on the other children who were on stage, indicating that the play was not to continue. A disappointed sigh escaped from your lips as everyone around you started to murmur about the poor boys accident. If you haven’t clearly seen the look in Tenma’s eyes, you would be probably whining just like everyone else. You really didn’t want to leave the school without checking up on the boy so you ran towards one of the cotton candy stands, leaving your friends behind and confused, and purchased two fluffy, sweet confections. With both of your hands full, you tried to make your way towards the backstage. It was now nearly empty, with a few students still talking with each other and some teachers. Your eyes immediately locked on the boy who was sitting on a box, head hung low. His orange hair covered his face but there wasn’t any people who could have that bright hair color. Putting on a smile, you ran towards the boy and sat down on the floor, giving him a little hello. The boy looked at you without saying anything and looked back down, clearly ignoring you. Getting up, only to sat down next to Tenma, you offered one of the cotton candies to him. His eyes shot back at you, surprised to receive something from a total stranger to him. Regardless, after hesitating for a second, he took the spun sugar confection from you, mumbling a thank you. You two ate the cotton candies in complete silence before you grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. On the way, he was shouting at you out of surprise, asking you what you were doing but you didn’t pay any mind to him. That day was spent going from one activity to another with each other. After that day, even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was stuck to you like a glue at school. He would occasionally come and visit your classroom on the breaks and you two would spend the entire break together or sometimes, you were the one who visited his classroom. With the blink of an eye, you two were very close friends, best friends even. Yeah, after graduating from elementary, you went to different middle and high schools but Tenma, despite his hectic schedule would always make time for you. You knew about the stage fear he developed, so in your second year of high school, when he told you he was going to try and get over his phobia, you were delighted and gave him your %100 support. Needless to say, you were given a ticket from the first row to Water Me!, his first stage play since elementary.

➜ PERSONALITY COMPATIBILITY ; Did you say you love dumbasses? Here, you can have him. Jokes aside, since you didn’t include that much of your personality, I’m going to base this part on your MBTI. I hope you don’t mind. Tenma is what you would call a 'tsundere.' He is a confident, arrogant boy who is not afraid to tell other people what he thinks but despite that cocky and self-centered attitude of his, he often feels pressured by the success of his parents and fears of disappointing them. Most INFP’s don’t just want to find a partner– they want to connect. So when Tenma tells you about his worries, which is harder for him than usual people, it’s your duty to make him feel safe and welcomed. Make him feel like he can tell you everything. Since he generally has trouble connecting with other people, he appreciates it and it means so much for him more than you can guess. INFP’s respect their partner’s independence, which is very important because Tenma is definitely not your usual high school boy. He’s always auditioning for a movie or a series, maybe even a commercial. On top of that, he has both school work and theater. Needless to say, he is a very busy person. Sometimes, this can lead you two not seeing each other for weeks, only some texts here and there. The reunion is always something you can look forward though. Don’t worry about being a procrastinator because Tenma will constantly remind you do to the things you have to do. Maybe he’ll even put a prize at the end, something like “If you manage to finish your assignments until Friday, I might take my precious time to come and visit you.” Listen, I know Tenma’s generally easily flustered but if he is able to say "You want attention that bad? Then practice a kiss scene with me." without any problems then he can easily say the former. No I don’t take criticism.

➜ SHARED ACTIVITIES ; Public and Tenma don’t exactly go well together since his face is basically everywhere so your dates are usually indoor ones. From watching each of your favorite childhood movies to making plans for the future, although the later is usually only when he’s particularly feeling soft. Movie nights are a classic for at-home dates, but one way to give it a particularly fun and connective spin is to pick out movies that mean something to each of you. For example, you take turns watching each person's favorite movie from when they were ages 5, 10, and currently. It's a great way to learn more about each other and can spark some interesting conversation and rediscovered memories to share. Planning for the future gives you something to look forward to, makes you feel more in control, and can make you feel closer as a couple because you're spending time thinking about a shared future together. You can also make other kinds of plans. For example, what if you spent an evening thinking through what you want to be doing one year from now, five years from now, and 10 years from now? You can write down what you come up with so you can reflect on it later. You love cuddling?? Ask this boy for some! He will try to be smug about it but deep down, he just wants to feel you close too! His arms would wrap around your shoulders, his chest pressed firmly against the muscles of your back. Slowly he would rub his hands up and down your arms, warming your skin, yet leaving more goosebumps than there had been previously. He wouldn’t always insist on conversation, it‘s enough for him usually to just have you in his arms. Both of your breathing would start to grow steady with sleep. Before you knew it, both of you were in the dreamland in each other’s arms.

➜ ZODIAC COMPATIBILITY ; Tenma’s birthday is on June 21th which makes him a Gemini. This pairing of consecutive signs frequently works out because the two share similarities by season, while still bringing different elements to the table. Taurus and Gemini are spring signs, and when they combine forces, we can discover a lot about how the world works and why life blooms on this planet to begin with. Both of you are content with time spent away and time spent together. Try using this cycle to your advantage. Know when to nurture each other and when to give each other space. By putting your best effort into this, you can strengthen your relationship ties. Taurus should not give up or get annoyed with Gemini for having too much flexibility in their mind. Taurus needs to be patient when possible and comfortable being more decisive. Neither of you can manipulate the other. Work to compromise and balance out your strengths. In a healthy Taurus-Gemini relationship, this combination will be a major team. They both have strong mental focus and, together, they can accomplish whatever they want. Bring about world peace? Sure! Bring about the world's end? Sure! They have the skills to link up and become truly united without feeling as though they are losing themselves.

#act! addict! actors!#a3! matchup #tenma sumeragi

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arilumen · 4 years

Text

20th May: Fiery Kind of Love

It is me, your friendly neighborhood writer(?)

So this was meant to be ready the 20th but my lazy ass wasn’t able to finish it on time, lol.

So here you go, a little moment between Thalia, my OC (not MC, not the apprentice) and Lucio, from my fanfic Hurt, on Ao3. (you can find it here) Following the beautiful idea coming from @lovelikeyoursfest <3

Thalia was walking in the woods, the peaceful afternoon sun warming her skin as she looked around, comfortably surrounded by nature. The birds were singing happily from the trees, and sometimes a calm breeze played with their leaves, rustling through the branches making a delightful sound. She loved the peace permeating the place and how everything was quiet in there. Even time seemed a distant thing, somehow suspended. It was undoubtedly ideal for unwinding and thinking, far away from the Palace's jumble of sounds. Thalia was having a hard time adapting to the lifestyle, always too crowded for her likings, everyone eager to help, following her no matter in what room she chose to try and hide to carve out some moments to herself. The constant attempts to get away led her to the woods at the edge of the garden, finding it located ideally not too far Portia's house but still providing enough distance for Thalia to feel safe and at peace. Putting up with Lucio the whole day was already challenging; she didn't need anyone to come and stress her even more.

Her thoughts drifted to the Count. Lately, his behavior shifted from the initial self-absorption to a more moderate self-appreciation, with a hint of occasional interest in others' feelings. Since she'd been able to take him back in his body, the man showed her that he was capable of gratefulness and hadn't missed an occasion to manifest his affection or appreciation. Not that his words mattered to her, she knew better to value his empty praises or compliments, for he didn't seem to consider them significant.

Besides, she always used to measure someone's worth based on their actions, not words. And that was why her stomach knotted into a ball, recalling the look that sometimes lingered in Lucio's eyes. She couldn't quite place when that feeling had begun, but the sensation was so harsh and sudden that her cheeks could do nothing but flush. Thalia always dismissed it by shaking her head, turning away from his expression, or concentrating on the things she hated about him, hoping that Lucio didn't notice her strange behavior.

And she was rather certain that he hadn't: the Count didn't pay attention to her reactions, maybe because he took them for granted, or perhaps because, despite his slow-changing, he was still too self-absorbed to acknowledge them. Thalia decided not to linger too much on those thoughts since they brought some strange sadness in her chest.

She was so lost in thought that by the time she noticed goosebumps forming on her arms and the chill caressing her skin, she was already deep into the forest, and surrounded by high trees blocking out the warm sunlight. Shooting a confused look around, Thalia turned on her heels and headed back, trying to remember where she came from, but as she proceeded, the girl eventually found out she was wrong, and still couldn't locate the edge of the forest. Thalia took a deep breath and gulped down the panic rising in her throat, reminding herself what she'd learn the hard way alone in the desert: anxiety just made things worse.

She stood still, trying to detect any sounds in the distance that may guide her towards the Palace. That place being terribly loud all the time was one of the reasons she had escaped into the woods, but in the time of need, everything was quiet.

Suddenly, she heard dogs barking, and happiness made its way to her face as her lips curled in a smile. In a minute, she could spot Melchior running towards her.

"Melchior! What a good boy!" she welcomed him, kneeling on one leg and opening her arms to hug the dog, which hit her full speed, knocking her on the ground.

The animal was waggling and yelping with joy, barely stopping as he licked her face. Chuckling, she raised on her elbows and sat on the grass, stroking the dog's fur with contentment.

"Ah, there you are! I knew Mercedes and Melchior were looking for something in the woods. What a prey they got this time!"

Thalia rolled her eyes, staring at Lucio as he came into view from the trees, Mercedes trotting right behind him. He regarded her with a pleased expression, and she realized that her dress was quite revealing, as she was trying to bear the insufferable hotness of Vesuvia by wearing fewer clothes. Thalia blushed furiously, looking away and trying to hide it, focusing on Melchior beside her, stroking his fur. It wasn't like she was planning to meet anyone, throughout a walk in the forest, least of all the Count himself. Why was it so hard to have a single day without having to put up with her body reacting in strange ways to his manners? Her brows furrowed, and she let out an exasperated sigh, burying her hand further in the dog's white coat, the feeling of his fur tickling her fingertips.

Lucio's clawed fingers stretched out before her eyes catching her attention.

"What are you running from, all alone in the woods?" She looked up into his face, placing her hand in his, and standing on her feet, the cold feeling of his metal limb lingering on her skin even when he left her palm.

Lucio eyed her, curiosity filling his irises. She liked that color, bright as a sunny sky on summer days, and the way they were always so expressive reminded her of the disarming candor of a child's gaze. He was so blunt with his emotions, pouring them on people without care, as he didn't understand that his childish behavior was cutting both ways, giving anyone the power to use his desires as leverage on him, manipulating and twisting them. Along with his carelessness, that was what led him into the unfortunate deal with the Devil: of course, the deceitful Arcana took advantage of his foolishness.

"Thalia, are you ok?" his tone was confused as he regarded her, his brows furrowed and lips parted slightly. Her gaze lingered on the soft curve of his mouth, but she recoiled abruptly from her thoughts, focusing on the ground instead.

"Oh, yes, I just came here to think... I was trying to find peace outside the Palace; I'm not used to being around so many people." she shrugged.

And I miss the desert, she thought, but dismissed it quickly, ignoring the feeling of longing blooming in her chest. And then, as she suddenly remembered something important, her head shot up again, anger burning in her eyes. "But what are you doing here? You shouldn't. You're not allowed to wander around the castle; people may see you!" she hissed.

"I am still the Count, I can do whatever I like as long as nobody sees me!" he pouted. "Anyway, I'm here because I was looking for you, and unlike everyone at the Palace, I am fun to be around." he grinned at her. "I also heard that Asra needed your presence, so you may consider heading back... Unless you want me to tell him that I couldn't find you."

She shot him a dirty look but considered his tempting offer.

"No, it's fine, I'll go meet Asra." Thalia eventually let out the words with a sigh; she didn't want to procrastinate and prolong the situation more than necessary.

"Let me escort you to the Palace then so that you don't get lost again." he said, nonchalantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her with him as they started walking.

A heavy sensation settled at the pit of her stomach, but while Thalia's cheek reddened considerably from the intimacy of his gesture, Lucio, on the contrary, didn't mind the close contact. She cleared her voice and spoke. "Just to let you know, I wasn't lost. I was perfectly fine, wandering, and thinking."

"You looked pretty stray to me. And surely Melchior and Mercedes noticed that too. They seem fairly fond of you, you know? I was impressed the day we finally met, seeing the three of you hanging around as you've known each other for ages."

She looked at the dogs that were cheerfully waltzing ahead of them and chuckled lightly. "Those two are just adorable."

Turning her head to Lucio, she met his gaze, filled with an intense expression she couldn't identify, more warm and intimate than usual. Thalia found herself blushing again and averted her eyes, spotting the Palace coming into view beyond the edge of the wood.

"I can get back on my own now." she stated, twisting and shifting her elbow, weirdly stuck between them, and poking at his ribs while finally slipping out of his arm. She wanted to get away and put as much distance between them as possible, but when he looked at her, she stopped in her track.

"I said I'd escort you to the Palace, there's no need to go alone, Thalia." he put his hands on his hips, scowling. "Besides, Valdemar, Vulgora, and Volta should still be around. You may need protection."

"I am capable of handling them by myself!" she lied, shivering at the thought of the three. "You can't stay at the castle with them around, and let alone you should be here, walking around like they aren't trying to kill you!" her volume escalated with the last words, worry dripping from her tone.

He arched a brow at her.

"Looks like you do have a heart, after all." his face relaxed in a satisfied grin. Thalia was angrily glaring at him, arms crossed, but he came closer until their noses were just an inch apart, and she could feel his deep breaths on her skin.

She flinched, taken aback by the sudden proximity, breaking eye contact. His hand shot out, preventing her from running away by clenching her wrist and sliding it towards him and away from its tight position on her chest, while his other arm circled at her waist, holding her close and erasing the space between them.

Thalia was tense under his grip, her heart beating so fast in her chest that she felt it in her ears. She was looking at him with wide eyes, surprise and embarrassment showing on her blushing face. "A-After all we've been through to g-get you back to your body!" she muttered, stuttering on her words.

Despite the awkward way her body was responding, she was able to regain enough composure to shot him a deadly stare. “Let go of me!” she growled.

"So, you care about me." he was so close that Thalia could see all the different shades of grey and blue in his irises, how they got darker around the pupils, and the way his lashes curled slightly at the ends, caressing his cheeks when he blinked. Lucio regarded her intently, but she couldn't utter a single word with his scent permeating the air, filling her nostril and clouding all her senses. She was bathing in it, and the contact amplified every feeling so much that if he wasn't holding her so tight, she feared she would have just collapsed to the ground like an empty shell.

She felt so heavy, but at the same time, weightless, and the confusion of her feelings let her speechless.

"I... I don't care about you, it's just... I want to go back to my life!" she cried out eventually, her eyes filled with unshed tears blurring her vision, while she tried to slip out of his embrace, palms shoved into his chest.

His grip loosened immediately at her words, letting her go.

The moment the words left her lips, Thalia regretted them. She wasn't entirely lying because she really wanted her life back as it was, less complicated, just focused on surviving, on her own, in complete control of her feelings. His presence was changing it, it was clear to see, and she was scared. Thalia was so frightened to fall for someone who didn't seem worth it, someone as evil as Lucio had been the past years. Three weeks of being slightly better were not enough to make up for everything he'd done.

She brought a hand to her mouth, muffling a sob. Tears were streaming freely down her face, and she regarder his wounded expression shifting into worry. He stretched a hand towards her, the space between them heavy with silence and tension, but thought better of it, letting his limb fall to his side. Maybe her rejection had struck deeper than what he was letting on.

"You don't care?" Lucio's features hardened, eyes glaring, and full of anger and betrayal as he took a step towards her. The argument looked more like a dance, their bodies near and then far, and suddenly closer again. Thalia stood still, shoulders trembling under her sobbing, unable to stop crying.

"It's not that I don't- it's just... You're so moody and full of yourself... Your words are kind, lately even kinder than usual, but you don't seem to understand their importance, nor you care about your actions..." the words left her mouth against every logic she still clung to, her voice drifted off, and she dried the tears with her palms. Lucio's presence was no longer intrusive; he wasn't forcing the proximity on her like before, almost like he understood her words.

"You're not used to it." he concluded, nodding, then sighed, backing just to give her air as he ran a hand through his hair, disheveling his always perfect hairstyle.

She regarded him, breathing hard from the cry. He looked so vulnerable with his blond locks falling into his eyes, and when she felt the urge to come closer, she didn't fight it. Lucio caught the movement with the corner of his eye and turned his head to her. She lifted a hand and brushed back the strand covering his face, looking at him while she did so, letting out a shaky breath she didn't realize she was holding, and he grinned.

"I am too handsome to resist, even for a cold-hearted person as you are." the words stung a little, and she frowned, lowering her gaze to his collar.

"I'm not cold-hearted, I just don't trust easily." she concluded, still refusing to look him in the eye as her hand slipped from his soft hair to rest on his shoulder.

The contact was pleasant, and the moment seemed to stretch endlessly, until two clawed fingers reached for her chin, tilting it up and forcing their gaze to meet. His eyes, now two quiet pieces of blue sky, were full of tenderness, and they clashed with the bold grin tugging at his lips. They were close, but it wasn't unpleasant or forced, she realized, as she understood that with his delicate touch, he was letting her free to pull out if she wanted.

But Thalia looked too absent to do so, and instead, she raised on her tiptoes, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Lucio's hand let go of her and shot to where her lips had just touched, his wide eyes regarding her, but the surprise was quickly replaced by his usual smug expression, as a broad smile spread on the Count's face.

She took two steps back and turned towards the Palace, as Melchior and Mercedes accompanied her. "Come on, Count, wouldn't want to be seen, would you?" she teased, and he caught up willingly.

#the arcana lucio #count lucio #lucio's route #the arcana visual novel #the arcana #the arcana fanfiction #the arcana fandom #lovelikeyours2020 #oc #oc is not the apprentice #lucio x oc #writing #fanfiction

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go-events · 5 years

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GO Rom Com Spotlight: @wantedfangirl

The engaging @wantedfangirl (also wantedfangirl on AO3 and Discord) has claimed Love, Simon to adapt for Good Omens in the Good Omens Rom Com Event.

For reference, here’s a little background about the source material!

About Love, Simon: Everyone deserves a great love story, but for 17-year-old Simon Spier, it's a little more complicated. He hasn't told his family or friends that he's gay, and he doesn't know the identity of the anonymous classmate that he's fallen for online. Resolving both issues proves hilarious, terrifying and life-changing.

We spent some time chatting about how the adaptation is coming so far, as well as future plans for it! Now, get to know @wantedfangirl a little better!

* * *

goromcom: Starting off with a little about you, the tags Tumblr associates with you are #miraculous and #lol. Those are very lighthearted tags! Are you an optimistic person in general?

wantedfangirl: Haha, that’s very funny! In real life I am actually quite a cynic, but Tumblr and general online culture can get very depressing if you let it get to you, so I try to maintain a more positive online presence.

goromcom: Yeah, I like that. Concentrating on things that can be a little more uplifting can sometimes help offset the more troubling things in the news and online.

But now, let’s talk about your project! You chose to adapt Love, Simon as your rom com. Has this movie been a favorite of yours, or is there some other reason you chose it?

wantedfangirl: Oh, this movie is definitely a favourite of mine. As someone who was a closeted teen when it came out, this movie was painfully and reassuringly relatable, and seeing this movie in cinemas with friends and how popular it subsequently became was very encouraging. It’s also interesting rewatching it now, despite it only having been a couple of years, and seeing how different it is to watch when I’m at a very different place with my life and my sexuality. However, the main reason I chose it is that I finally read the book the movie is based on, and it really inspired me to rewrite this romcom with our favourite angel and demon.

goromcom: What's your favorite moment of the movie, and are you looking forward to presenting it in your adaptation? Any loose plans for that scene that you can share?

wantedfangirl: SPOILER WARNING FOR LOVE, SIMON--There are several comedic moments in the film that I love, like the skit about straight people ‘coming out’ and every scene with relatable Queer Panic, but at heart I am a sap, and so my favourite scene has got to be when they finally meet on the Ferris Wheel and share that stunning kiss.--END SPOILERS

I am very much looking forward to that scene, because I feel like I’ve blended all my favourite elements of the book, movie, and Good Omens to keep the essence of the original scene but make it more distinct to Ineffable Husbands.

goromcom: Do you plan to stick very closely to the beats of the original story, or make bigger changes?

wantedfangirl: I feel I have gone for something between the two. I’ve kept the main plotline and relationship the same, and all the essential ideas surrounding sexuality and homophobia that were very integral to the movie. However, the movie also includes a lot of High School Drama that I really didn’t want to write, and writing Aziraphale and Crowley as teenagers just felt too weird, so I changed the setting to an office, to try and keep it in an enclosed environment while ever so slightly heightening the maturity level of the characters. Curtaincall’s wonderful Office AU also got me binge-watching the show, so that probably also has been inspiring me.

goromcom: What's an interesting decision you've made in your planning so far--a notable casting decision, a changing of venue, or some other plan you have to paint Good Omens all over your rom com?

wantedfangirl: As I mentioned above, I changed the setting because Crowley and Aziraphale were literally born middle-aged, and writing them differently really didn’t feel right. I’ve also replaced a lot of the subplots that originally involved High School Drama to more Good Omens inspired ideas, as the office-like structure of Heaven and Hell in the show really transferred beautifully to this fic. I’ve also been keeping those details we all know and love (*cough* “I gave it away”), that are so much fun to include in every Good Omens fic. I also found that some scenes in my romcom work brilliantly with the ‘break up’ scenes in the show, and I cannot wait to write those.

goromcom: I am blatantly stealing this last question from The Good Place: The Podcast, but here goes: Tell me something "good". It can be something big or small. It can be a charity you think is doing good work, or you can talk about how great your pet is.

wantedfangirl: Ah, I love that podcast and that show, definitely recommend them both! I don’t want to sound preachy, but I would say something I’ve found ‘good’ recently is taking a break from social media. I’ve found that consciously stepping away has been surprisingly helpful, both because I have a strong tendency to procrastinate on it, and it can get very negative, which really isn't great when you're prone to a variety of mental issues.

And, to lighten up a bit from that, here's a picture of my friend's adorable bunny:

goromcom: Before you take your next break from social media to take in the world around you (or pass out from the cute of that bunny) make a note to check out the GO adaptation of Love, Simon, coming soon!

#goromcom #goromcom spotlight #good omens #wantedfangirl #love simon

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the-caldwell-family · 4 years

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Prompt Writing

Hey guys, what's up? I'm back and horribly procrastinating writing. The good news is that I procrastinated writing so much to the point of going back to writing. I saw a prompt I liked on instagram and decided I wanted to write it, so here it is. It's silly and stupid and really meant to be more of a writing exercise, but I liked it, so I decided you share it with you guys. Hope you enjoy it!

Based on this prompt:

Story below the break!

He had a problem.

Okay, that was wrong. It wasn't a problem, so much as an issue. Just a tiny, little issue that can be fixed in an instant. There was no reason to panic. No reason at all.

The flame reached the cabinet.

Nevermind, it was time to panic. He scrambled off the floor and rushed for his phone. His fingers shook as he put in his password and searched his contacts. He clicked the first one he saw. The phone rang against his ear before he could have the thought to check who he had called. It was unnecessary, anyways, he would have recognized the slurring voice that answered from anywhere.

"'ello?"

He lifted the phone from his ear to check the time. 1:32 am. Shit. Drew was going to kill him for waking her up so early. He couldn't back out now, though. The flames were charring the bottom of the cabinet now and he was definitely not getting his security deposit back. He took a deep breath, and braced for impact.

"So, we may have a problem."

"A problem?"

"Yeah."

"Let me guess. You caused it?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that–" He cut off with a yelp as the stove threw out more sparks. "Okay, I absolutely caused it and now I don't know how to fix it. Hello? Hello?" He dropped the phone from his ear, and his contact list stared back at him. He groaned and threw his head back against the wall. Of course she hung up on him. Of course. The fire beside him whooshed dramatically, but he was already getting sick of it. Dialing the number underneath Drew's, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited.

Just as he heard another, "Josh?" in his ear, the glass besides the stove shattered, the sound echoing in the relatively small kitchen. "What the fuck was that?" the voice demanded. Trust Darryl to have his priorities in order.

"Hey, so you won't believe this, but we have another problem." The words barely left his mouth before he regretted it.

"No, no. WE don't have a problem. You have a problem, and I have an idiot who keeps getting into them." Josh tried to interrupt because he did not get into that many problems, but he was cut off.

"Please, there's a fire and I don't know what to do. They never went over this in high school."

"What do you mean fire? Hell if I know what to do, pour water on it or something. Try calling Randy, he probably knows what to do." The call ended as the other glass on the counter exploded.

He decided to do as Darryl said and rushed to the sink. The handles were warm, but they still poured water, which was a blessing he'd take. Filling a cup, he threw the water at the fire, which absolutely did not help. Why was the fire getting bigger?

He did not sign up for this. He just wanted to do the right thing, and now he was in the middle of an inferno with no friends that wanted to help. Though Darryl did have one good point: Randy would probably be able to help with this. He designed kitchens, which was close enough. Scrolling to the 'R' section, he pressed on Randy's icon.

The phone dialed for so long, he thought Randy wouldn't pick up, but a second before he was going to give up, Randy's voice filtered through the phone. "What do you want this time?" He was screaming into the phone, and the sound of deafening party music filtered through. Josh knew exactly where Randy was. He spent more time at Elizabeth's Bar than he did at home, which was amazing because he worked from home.

He didn't even try to soften the blow. "We've got a problem."

"And it's Tuesday, what's your point?" The response was immediate that it took a second for Josh to answer. The second was enough time for another person to join the conversation.

"What's happening over here?" Kevin asked. Of course Kevin was there. Randy rarely went anywhere without Kevin, especially Elizabeth's. He didn't understand what they did there all day. They could hardly pick up strangers after they declared their relationship exclusive. He wondered if they just sat at the bar all day and made friends. He almost laughed at the picture in his head. Randy with his thick leather jacket and cowboy boots chatting about the weather at the bar. Or Kevin stuttering through an explanation of planetary orbits. God, they were perfect for each other. The smell of burning wood brought him out of his semi-hysterical thoughts and back into the conversation, which hasn't progressed at all.

"Joshie's got a problem."

"Of course he does. Give me second, I'm not nearly drunk enough to listen to this yet." Josh heard Kevin order another round and Randy ask to double it.

"Guys, not helping." The cabinets were definitely not fixable at this point. It was sunken in a way it hadn't been this morning. "Just, what do you know about putting out an oil fire?" His words met silence, the party music louder in the absence of voices. He could admit there was a better way to have said that, but he was in a bit of a hurry. The smoke was starting to choke, and the fire was still not any closer to being put out. "Hello?" he repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

"Sorry, I thought I heard you say there was a fire." Josh winced. Kevin did not sound happy, and it was never a good day when Kevin wasn't happy.

"I know, I know, but there really isn't time for your lecture today, professor. Just, any suggestions 'cause my cabinets are not supposed to look like that. I tried throwing water on it, but I think it just got bigger." A sharp laugh came through the speakers, a harsh sound compared to Randy's other laughs. Josh winced again and hoped they'd help soon. He was in for a long lecture come tomorrow, but he had to see through tonight before he even started worrying about that.

"You idiot, water's not going to help. It's fucking grease. Here, hold on, let me get Elizabeth, she'll probably know what to do. Elizabeth!" Josh had to hold the phone away from his ear from the sheer force of the yell. It somehow managed to overpower the noise of the ever-growing blaze beside him. After what seemed like an hour, but logically couldn't be more than a few minutes, Elizabeth's complaining became clear.

"What do you bums want? I've got a job, unlike you lazy sacks of shit." Her words produced the strongest image in his mind: a hip cocked to the side, hands lazily wiping at a cup that was mostly there for show, bushy red hair barely staying contained behind her head. He wondered if he was hallucinating from all the smoke.

"Josh has a problem. Again." Which was unfair, he did not have that many problems. Everyone was over-exaggerating a bit too much, and Kevin was just angry about the broken mug from last week. He had no way of knowing that it was his favorite mug.

"If you meant the leaky pipe under the sink, that's the solution to last week's problem. How he managed to get a chicken bone stuck in his pipe is a mystery I never plan to solve." Josh didn't even know there was a leaky pipe under his sink, but he'd have to take her word for it until the kitchen wasn't on fire.

When Randy didn't laugh at Elizabeth's weak attempt at a joke, Josh knew he was in the dog house. Literally soon, if someone doesn't help him with this fire. "His house is on fire."

Which, no. "Not my house, just my kitchen. My stove. The grease caught on fire, and now the fire won't go down."

Elizabeth let out a string of curses that were definitely not all English. He hadn't even known she spoke another language. The more you know.

The cabinet above the stove began to make creaking noises that sounded suspicious, and he really couldn't waste anymore time. "I swear I'll invite you all over tomorrow to yell at me, but I need a house to invite you, so could someone please tell me what to do."

"You idiot! What the fuck were you cooking at one in the morning? Don't answer that, numb-nuts." Josh wondered if he was that predictable or if Elizabeth had telepathic powers. "Did you turn the stove off?"

Josh scoffed lightly. "Of course I did. I'm not that stupid."

"I wouldn't say that." Josh really needed Kevin to let that mug go. An unhappy Kevin was an unhappy Randy and he couldn't take that kind of stress in his life. Especially not with a kitchen currently on fire.

"How big's the fire?" He needed to remember to send a gift basket to Elizabeth. Or maybe he should just pay his tab at the bar.

"Well my cabinet definitely needs to be replaced, but it hasn't reached the ceiling yet, so I'm calling it a win."

"You idiot," she repeated. "Spray it with a fire extinguisher."

The sudden laughter that boomed through the phone startled him, but he should have expected it. He really needed new friends, not friends who hung up on him or laughed while he faced death. Randy spoke through his chuckling, "You really think he has a fire extinguisher at his house? The only reason he had a stove is 'cause it came with the house. He'd buy takeout everyday if he had the money." He couldn't even deny it; he really did eat takeout for a month straight until he had run out of money and resorted to stealing food from his friends' fridges. More importantly, though, was that they were right about the fire extinguisher.

"Any of you guys got a spare extinguisher I can use?" If possible, the laughter got louder, and Josh could really use some support right now.

"You live like twenty minutes away, what good does that do you? Go to your neighbors, borrow his." God, he could kiss Elizabeth right now. Wait, nevermind, he definitely could not. He would pay his bar tab, though. "God, I'm surrounded by fucking idiots."

"Okay, stay," he said to his inanimate phone before running out his front door to his neighbor Jeffrey's door. He knocked rapidly, and only realized the time when Jeffrey opened the door with a glare. His deadbolt stayed locked, but it felt more like it was protecting him than it was protecting Jeffrey.

"If you don't give me an acceptable reason for waking me up at one in the morning, I will shoot you right now."

He felt like a naughty student being stared down by the principal. "I, uh, I have a bit of a problem."

"Would shooting you solve the problem? No? Then leave." That was not an empty threat, as he had found out last year when he had needed sugar. The landlord was still angry about the bullet hole in the wall. Jeffrey started to close the door, but Josh stuck his foot against it. A horrible idea in hindsight when his foot got painfully squished between the door and the wall.

"Just, do you have a fire extinguisher?"

Jeffrey's brow furrowed. "A fire extinguisher? What for?"

"Extinguishing a fire." Jeffrey's stare held the promise of a thousand deaths. All he wanted was to put out the fire in his kitchen, and now he was going to die.

The staring contest lasted another minute, a minute where he really thought he was going to die, but Jeffrey just disappeared into his apartment and came back with a shiny fire extinguisher in his hand. "If you burn down the building, I will make good on my promises." God, he really needed new friends.

Extinguisher in hand, he squared his shoulders and braced for battle. The door to his apartment had stayed open after he'd left, and the light from the fire illuminated the walls. Somehow, the cabinet had stayed stable despite its completely charred bottom, but its creaking noises were not hopeful. Ignoring the screaming from his phone, he aimed the nozzle at the fire and squeezed on the handles, bracing for kick-back. Nothing. The trigger wouldn't move, and the fire kept burning around him. He decided he was going to take a fire safety class after this. Maybe even get a fire extinguisher for the apartment.

The fire grew in size with a loud crack. He grabbed his phone off the counter, and put it up to his ear. "I think it's broken, it won't spray."

Elizabeth, as always, was the voice of reason. "Let me guess, you didn't pull the pin, did you?" He stayed silent, which was answer enough. It wasn't like he'd ever needed a fire extinguisher before. Or at least, he'd never had to be the one to use it. "There's a pin in the top, pull it out, then aim and spray." She was shouting again as the music around her grew louder. It almost felt like she was in another world, his own consisting only of the room around him and the fire blazing in front of him.

He found the pin with a victorious shout and pulled it out. He yelled out a thanks to the phone as he set it down again. He managed to hear Elizabeth's final shout to spray side-to-side, which seemed pretty specific, but he couldn't fault her advice now. The sudden burst of foam almost threw him off his feet, but he planted them wide and set to spraying the fire, which was much harder than he expected. The nozzle was ridiculously hard to control, so it took a minute of trying to get it aimed at the stove.

The room was filling with shades of white, smoke and foam mixing in a weird combination that reminded him of flying through a cloud. He pressed on the handles as long as he could, until the foam came out uneven. He couldn't see any flames left, though he couldn't see much of anything in his kitchen.

The counter and stove were invisible beneath the sea of foam. The cabinets, previously a dark brown, looked as white as the stove below it, though he could still see the charred black surface shining through. He panted, standing in the middle of his kitchen at one in the morning, wearing pajamas and staring at the ruined remains of his once clean stove.

A buzzing from the counter drew his attention away from the cloud he'd created. Elizabeth had ended the call, and was now video calling him. He answered, not taking his eyes off the disaster in front of him.

"How'd it go?" Randy's voice was light-hearted, but unexplainably gruff. It barely registered in his mind, and he flipped the camera. The foam seemed to have grown in the few seconds it had been there, and the entire countertop was hidden under it. Randy let out a low whistle. "Houston, we have a problem."

He felt a smile grow on his face. Maybe he was hysterical, maybe he breathed in too much smoke and foam, but nothing could stop the laugh that bubbled up his throat. Standing in the middle of a charred, foam-covered kitchen, a stupid, wide grin plastered on his face, he said, "You call it a problem, I call it a solution."

#writing #writing blog #writblr #writeblr #writing prompt #prompt fill #dialogue prompt #short story #im trying guys i swear #i'm procrastinating

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one-good-day · 4 years

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Executive dysfunction is a lack of an ability to "execute" tasks and in my case is caused by my abuse as a child. If the caretakers don't teach the child how to do tasks (or just yell at them until they cry), it can stunt the growth of executive function.

My caretakers mostly just forced me to do tasks using a threat system and thus it lead me to associate tasks with threats and punishments and not doing tasks with threat and punishment as well. Kinda a catch-22, since now doing and not doing anything causes anxiety and panic.

It feels like a torturous form of procrastination but I don't actually want to procrastinate.

For me, most days I'm unable to do much other than sit in bed. Small tasks take so much effort for me. One example is that I could spend two days "wanting to take a shower" but I wouldn't be able to. So I'd sit there in anticipation of "taking a shower" and not do anything else but still not be able to get past the mental block to actually take a shower. This could lead me into panic attacks if I'm not careful and during this time I scroll through my phone but still be begging myself to take a shower. Thus my day would be spent doing nothing but "trying in my head".

This cycles into depression because I base my self worth off my productivity and when I'm doing nothing I feel really worthless, ashamed and "lazy". This is me internalizing everything my abusers told me.

I have been able to break out of this in really stressful or critical situations and "do multiple things in a row" like you said. My theory is that my brain precieves it as a "threat" and goes into that "ptsd defence mode" where you turn super calm in times of danger and shut down all emotions to complete the task (survive) in a cold logical bulldozer manner at any and all costs.

Some things I found that can temporarily "snap" me out of it is if I find that someone else I love needs me to do this task more. For example: If my friend asks me to do a little something to help them a lot, I can almost instantly do it (on a good day of course). This is probably because my friend is a form of positive external motivation, not just something internal (like motivating myself to take a bath).

Most days I still can't really do much or maybe just one task but it can help if I tell someone to gently encourage me over text by saying something like "I choose you to do this task!" . It kinda breaks the wall for me because it feels like "oh, out of everyone, they chose me! I'm their chosen Pokemon for this task! I must be good at it! They need me! Yes I can do it!". It's a little brain hack that works for me. It might not work for others but hey it's hope that the invisible wall can be overcome once in a long while.

Note: It kinda only works if I don't feel pressured by the person and I feel safe around them. If I'm scared of disappointing them or I think they have power over me, I still would fall into executive dysfunction.

TL;DR: I was raised to value productivity over all else but not taught how to actually do tasks. This lead to a cocktail of executive dysfunction and debilitating self performance anxiety.

#actually traumatized #cptsd #actually cptsd #actually ptsd #executive dysfunction #actually depressed #actually anxious #i made this as a comment on reddit but i have too much social anxiety and deleted it cause i had a panic attack #hopefully it helps someone here

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ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is · 5 years

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1/? Hey. Need help with my mbti and ennea types. For mbti i’m SFJ and ennea either 9w8 or 2w1. Quick note, i have bipolar 2 as well as BPD. I used to type myself as a perceiver because of how much i procrastinate, how lazy and disorganized i am, etc. until i learned about the functions. When someone is relying on me, i am extremely responsible and do my best not to let them down and beat myself up if i do. I also love helping people and get great joy from it. I’m very light-hearted and humorous

2/? but extremely serious inwardly (people don’t see that side unless very close to me). I like to think of myself as outgoing but part of me always feels kinda detached. I love socializing and love meeting new people and have a very family mindset with my friends and even their friends who i’ve hung out with. I love being responsible for people. I’m always seen as the “dad” of a lot of my friend groups. I’m the one who doesn’t do drugs or get wasted and always offer them care and advice.

3/? I always need a LOT of external and social affirmation from other people to know whether or not i’m doing things well. I love hearing compliments and all that , feeling loved. This is why i’m always easily hurt by criticism and rude people. I tend to define a lot of myself based on what others think. I also need details to do a job well. But i also take it many details of the things that matter to me.

4/? I can tell you everything about certain shows, even knowing an episode just by looking at the character’s clothing. When i’m not responsible for other people, i can be really impulsive with my words and life choices. I’m a careful person but get easily to that point of making stupid decisions. My family, however, sees my extreme laziness. I also have trouble sticking to things, like school. I need a lot of alone time in my life.

5/? I love doing things that interest me and that i find comfortable, like playing old games or watching old shows that remind me of better times. I stick to those comfort zones unless i’m with other people, which is when i’m much more likely to go along with it, unless it’s too extreme. I’m a rule follower for the most part. I’m also ruthlessly judgmental of people based on behavior, but can be a hypocrite because i completely ignore it when the person is good to me.

6/? I believe in social responsibility, like being a good parent (being there for your child, etc.). I feel really insignificant in other people’s lives. That’s why it matters to me so much when someone reaches out to me or shows me appreciation. I have a lot of anger in me. A lot. I hide it really well. I keep it all inside because i don’t want to kill the mood, but i’m fuming inside. I have a great fear of losing people. I’m heavily influenced by my past and has made me very jaded.

7/? I greatly value human independence and individuality and despise fake people and assholes, a lot due to past experience. Under stress i become pessimistic and negative, question the purpose of what i’m doing and why this is happening, i panic, as well as get angry and be a dick (most only shown at home). I have a great fear of being controlled or overpowered. I used to be weak and spineless as a child and i’m trying to make sure that never happens again

8/8 Despite all this, i’m not really controlling. I let people live their lives and won’t say anything unless they’re hurting others or me. I also let people be alone if thwy need to. I’m in no way a pushy person, even when i want to help them. I can go a while without contacting people. I usually wait for them to text me first so i know that they care. I’m very indecisive, and always need other people’s input to make a decision. Thank you. (Anon had a limit so i had to switch)

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I think SFJ is a reasonable typing but I am not sure whether you’re an ISFJ or ESFJ - most of what is here that supports that typing is just generally high Si and Fe, I don’t see a whole lot of either Ne or Ti, and you mention both a lot of socializing and needing a lot of alone time so there’s not a clear introvert/extrovert line there (which is normal - everyone is ambiverted to an extent - but I’m not sure which one it is).

I am also not sure for enneagram, and I think that is complicated by the bipolar disorder and BPD you mention - a lot of what you say lines up very much with 2 (although I don’t see much evidence of a 1 wing and would look more at 2w3), but some of that overlaps considerably with the characteristics of BPD and so it’s a case of you needing to determine for yourself what is enneagram and personal fears and what isn’t.

While the fear you mention of being controlled does line up with 8, the behavior you mention doesn’t match the 8 expression of anger and it also doesn’t sound like 9 in that you are too aware of it; I think you may just be angry. So while I’m not positive, 2 seems most likely as your enneatype.

#mbti #enneagram #esfj #isfj #enneagram 2 #Anonymous

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readyourimgaines · 5 years

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Chapter Seven: A Whole New Side

Here’s the seventh Chapter I promised the Anon that made my week. @mayonnaiseismycomfortfood @board-certifiedbastard @iamnotbrianmay

“So what’s wrong?” Grantaire asked, sitting on the counter of Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s apartment.

“Okay. So, Ferre doesn’t get home from work until around six and I need someone to talk to Enj. Jehan is out of town so they’re not in the question, he won’t tell me anything, and you’re the only other person aside from Jehan and Ferre that he actually talks to.” Courf put down his coffee mug.

“What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

“He hasn’t spoken today and he won’t come out of his room. I tried to argue that aliens were real- nothing. It wasn’t until I started talking about the US government and he didn’t respond that I realized something was really wrong.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Grantaire hopped off the counter and made it to the younger blond’s room. He knocked on the door and it swung open. He was greeted with the balmy scent of pine needles and muffled music coming from Enj’s phone.

“What’s up?” Enjolras asked, folding clothes and dropping them into a pile on his bed.

“I came to ask you the same thing. Ferre and Courf seem worried about you. I got a text from Ferre saying you seemed down and Courf doesn’t really know what’s wrong. He’s one of the few blessed children of the group that doesn’t have depression or anxiety.”

“They don’t need to be worried. I’m totally fine.” Enjolras shook out his hair from the loose bun it was in, flipping the blond strands back to retie them.

“Is that why you’re refolding all your clothes and working up a sweat? If you wanted a workout we could have for a run or filled water balloons with watercolours and thrown darts at them. You wanted to do that, remember?”

“I’m not refolding. I’m unpacking. I never unpacked all my stuff so I’m doing it now.” Enjolras closed the top drawer of his dresser, bending down to open what appeared to be his T-shirt drawer.

Grantaire took a seat on Enj’s bed and studied the blond. “Procrastination doesn’t sound like you.”

“You’re right. It’s not. I didn’t know if my living here was going to be permanent. It’s come to my attention that it is, so I’m fully unpacking now. I’m not breaking down and crying over it anymore because they’re not worth it. My parents aren’t hurt by this so why should I be?”

“Because you’re more human than they are, Enj. I’m not saying you should be breaking down and sobbing every night but if that’s what you need to do to heal, then that’s what you need to do. There’s nothing wrong with that.

“What they did was fucked up, sure, but you’re coming out on the better end, I think. They can’t try to poison how you think anymore, they can’t control you or whatever the hell they were trying to do. You’re completely free from them. The thing to remember is that you can’t force yourself to get better like this.” Grantaire lay back on the bed with a content sigh. “The more you think about them and what they’re doing, the less you’re going to be able to focus on how amazingly you’re doing.”

Enjolras stopped moving, his hands still in the dresser drawer. He hadn’t thought about it like that. By stewing over how he wasn’t going to let them win- whatever it was they were winning- he was letting them win anyway. They still had the control they always did.

“You’re right.” Enjolras nodded. “How do I stop thinking like this?” Grantaire shrugged.

“It’s hard, but it’s possible. It just takes time and support. You’ve got all the support you need. Now the rest is up to you, Enjy. Don’t rush but don’t drag it out either. Listen to your body and your heart. You need to do something, need some self-care, take bubble-baths or whatever it is you do. If you need to go on a drive to clear your head, get away from all this you know I’m a call or text away.”

Enjolras turned from the dresser and knelt on the bed next to Grantaire. He wrapped his arms around R and Grantaire was quick to return the hug. Neither of them knew how long they held each other before they ended up lying together. It wasn’t much longer before the two fell asleep, still in each other’s arms.

*****

It was an hour later when Courf knocked on the bedroom door before entering. He chuckled under his breath when he laid eyes on the two. They were still curled up in each other’s arms, soundly sleeping. He took his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of the two before promptly sending it to Ferre.

“Enjolras?” Courf’s voice was soft as he shook the teen’s shoulder. “Enjolras.”

The blond hummed and curled a little tighter into R’s side. He nuzzled his nose against R’s neck and Courf chuckled at the younger’s actions.

“Dude. You have to go to work in an hour and a half. You should get some food before you go.” Courf spoke, slapping R’s head gently.

Grantaire jumped, pulling Enjolras closer to him in shock before coming to his senses. Enjolras’s eyes were wide and clearly disoriented.

“What?”

“You have work soon, Enjy. Get some lunch before you go. I think my boyfriend would break up with me if I didn’t make sure you ate something before you left.” Courf turned to leave the room. “You two are too cute.”

Enjolras laid back down next to R, the two looking into each other’s eyes. Enjolras curled up against R again. “You’re warm and comfortable.”

“Thank you?” Grantaire chuckled.

The painter revelled in the feeling of the boy in his arms. For all he knew, Enjolras regularly cuddled his friends and this could be completely platonic. But he’d never seen the blond cuddle with Ferre. Ferre kissed his forehead every night before he went to bed, but it was usually Jehan he cuddled with, Jehan almost always initiated it first. Thinking about it, Enjolras wasn’t an affectionate person, verbally or physically. Then again, having met his mother and based on what he knew about his father, Grantaire could see how the younger wasn’t.

“Let’s get some lunch and I’ll bring you to work.” Grantaire prompted. “We can cuddle more later. Don’t worry.”

As if on cue, Grantaire’s phone went off. He glanced at the text and shook his head in disbelief. “Guess I’m working with you today. One of the newer workers broke her ankle so I’m filling in for a while.”

“What do you usually do for work?”

“I’m sort of a jack of all trades, you know? I do commission paintings and logos, I work when I’m needed in a couple different stores and restaurants. I don’t have one designated job. I’ve helped my old boxing teacher with lessons in the past. It’s weird, but I get paid. Good enough for me.”

“Sounds interesting enough. You want some grilled cheese for lunch? They’re pretty much the only thing I know how to cook other than warming up a can of soup.”

“Sure. I’ll help. Have you ever made a grilled cheese with mayonnaise instead of butter?”

“No…”

“Come on. It’s going to blow your mind.” Grantaire lead the way from Enjolras’s bedroom.

*****

“Have a nice day.” Enjolras gave a small wave as the customer left the cafe. “Why is it so busy?” He huffed a sigh.

“It’s kinda chilly out. The colder it is, the more they want hot drinks.”

“It’s chilly? It’s like 70 degrees out.” Enjolras shook his head.

“70 degrees in July, yeah. People panic when it hits below 75.” Grantaire pulled his beanie off in one smooth motion, ruffling his own hair. “I should grow my hair out so I can tie it back like yours. Stupid regulations.” He put his beanie back on.

“I’m pretty sure people don’t like to find hair in their drinks or on their muffins.” Enjolras smirked, turning to face the taller man. “Besides, you look cute in a beanie. The curls poke out and make your hair look fluffy.”

Grantaire glanced at his shoes, the tips of his ears feeling warm. He was glad his hair was covering them, otherwise he was sure Enjolras would have been able to see the blush.

“We’ve only got an hour or so left, anyway. Then we get dinner and annoy the hell out of Ferre and Courf. I think Courf gets off around eight tonight.”

“I think so.” Enjolras commented offhandedly. “Ferre gets off around six. He’s more dedicated than I am. Can you imagine getting full-time hours during the summer? Sure, the money’s nice, but swapping eight hours of school time for eight hours of work. That’s gross.”

A comment like this would potentially turn someone away from a relationship with a younger person. If they’re still in high school, that’s a no can do. But for Grantaire it was comforting. This young man who had been through so much still had some innocence left. He still wanted free time in the summer, and didn’t think that because he was out of the house he had to take everything on his shoulders by himself. He wasn’t making himself grow up too fast. There was something admirable in that.

“We can text Jehan and see if they want to come down and play a board game or something between customers and dishwasher cycles.” Grantaire suggested.

“Jehan’s out of town this week, actually. They’re visiting their grandma upstate. She used to come down and visit their family for a couple days, but she got hip replacement surgery, so they and their mom are helping to take care of her.”

“Jehan’s parents got a divorce, didn’t they?”

“Mhm.” Enj shook his head. Second grade. Their dad cheated on their mom and she ended it right off the bat. It was a rough time, but they got through it alright. Their mom got full custody and their dad is now living a couple states over with his new...partner?” Enjolras scowled. “People can be disgusting. You swear you’re going to be loyal to a person and then go and do something like that.”

*****

The bell over the door sounded and both baristas looked up. It was Marius and Cosette. Enjolras was half surprised to see Cosette’s adoptive father wasn’t hovering over them, chaperoning.

“Hey guys. What can we get you?” Grantaire tightened the ties of his apron behind his back.

“The banana bread latte sounds interesting,” Cosette said.

“Alright. What about you, Marius?” Enjolras prompted.

“What’s the...Almond Joy latte?”

Enjolras clapped his hands together once. “That’s personally my favorite drink on the menu. It’s a latte but with chocolate, almond, and coconut flavoured syrups. It really does taste like an Almond Joy.”

“I’ll try that, then.”

Grantaire was already working on Cosette’s latte so Enjolras could start on Marius’s. Once Cosette’s was done Grantaire went back to the counter and asked if the drinks were together, to which Marius replied that he was paying for them.

“That’ll be $7.30,” Enjolras punched everything into the computer.

“Oh Enjy.” Grantaire stepped by Enjolras and pressed a button on the screen. “Friends and Family Discount.”

“Gotcha. Thank you. $6.57.”

“Out of ten.” Marius handed the bill over the counter and Enjolras gave him the $3.43 change.

“How long have you two been going out now anyway?” Grantaire wondered. “I haven’t heard a lot of the tea about you guys.”

“There’s not much to spill.” Cosette shrugged. “We’ve been together for two months. I had a crush on Marius for a while but never really got the chance to talk to him because my dad’s a little overprotective. But I was walking around downtown with a girl I...sort of grew up with and Marius came to say hi. He asked me out and we’ve been together ever since.” Cosette looked at Marius with a dreamy look in her eyes. “But you and Enjolras are both single, right?”

“Yep. I’m the only gay in theory so far.” Enjolras sighed. “Well, I guess getting kicked out isn’t a theory… I’m like 75 percent there.”

Grantaire chuckled. “My longest relationship was maybe four months but that guy was weird as hell on a number of different levels.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll both find someone you care about soon.” Marius said, giving Enjolras a look he hoped the blond would understand.

*****

“They’re completely blind aren’t they?” Cosette asked as she and Marius sat at a table with their drinks.

“I think so. I also think I creeped Enjolras out…”

“With that look? Yeah. It would have creeped me out if I didn’t know you better.” Cosette took a sip from her drink. “I think they just need a little push towards each other. They already look at each other like they’ve been in love for years.”

“Maybe they have been. Just not in this life.”

“What are you talking about, Marius?” Cosette’s confusion was clear on her face and in her voice.

“Well, I was watching a video on YouTube about reincarnation, and it isn’t impossible that the two of them could have been together in another life.” Marius scratched the back of his neck. “You’ve known Enj longer than I have- almost as long as Jehan and Ferre- and he hasn’t bonded with the rest of us like he has with R.”

“I guess you do have a point. Reincarnation, though? It’s a fun thought, I’ll give you that. How do you know you’ve been reincarnated?”

And the conversation soon spiralled away from the two pining baristas.

#snafu and freddie's imagine shoppe #read your imagines #les mis #modern les amis #enjoltaire #enjolra #grantaire #courferre #courfeyrac #combeferre #marius #cosette #jehan prouvaire

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