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dadsbongos · 3 years

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Alright, so, I'm well aware that the antag series revolves around her and Hajime, but I kinda wanna know more about her relationship with Nagito, Mikan, and Kazuichi during the tragedy and after the neo world program

I'm really hooked to this series, but can you blame me lmao-

i can’t blame you nonny, antag reader series is literally all i think about anymore, literal brain rot. this is basically just like?? a character analysis essay type thing? i’m so sorry it’s so long, i just got soooo into it

Request for: antag reader (Mikan Tsumiki, Kazuichi Souda, Nagito Komaeda) Warnings: despair things, face swap mention, spoilers, manipulation and bad friending :( ~~~

Mikan Tsumiki (and like a pinch of Junko Enoshima):

The Tragedy: So basically the whole thing with (Y/n) is that her parents were just so overcritical to the point where it rooted her complex and felt like they never loved her, right? So basically, Junko was able to attack that by showing her the bare minimum affection and introducing Mikan into the mix, who was in a similar boat with being unloved. Junko made them both feel as though she was the best love they could ever have and then made them compete for it at any opportunity she could.

Mikan always loved Junko but she doesn’t love (Y/n) the same way and vice versa, despite that, they do both care for each other very deeply. They desire no relationship in each other and even view each other as rivals who happen to find somewhat of a friendship together. Mikan thinks, and always has, that (Y/n) is much more talented and worthy of Junko than she is. However, (Y/n), being deeply insecure far below the surface - never stopped thinking that Mikan was more beautiful and worthy of Junko than she was.

They find both comfort and hatred in each other due to Junko making them act as competition. They both know the pain of Junko’s rejection but they also both know that if the other was out of the way, they could have Junko all to themselves.

When (Y/n) found out Mikan took Junko’s womb, it was a betrayal due to the fact that she didn’t know beforehand, Mikan had never said anything about taking Junko’s uterus. And on top of that, she found out that Mikan had tried conceiving a despair child during their separation. Even though neither of them loves each other, they know their relationship can be viewed as lovers - they often view it as such themselves - and so, (Y/n) felt as though Mikan had cheated on her. She basically had. Even so, she still knows that nothing could make her hate Mikan, she doesn’t love her as she did Junko, but she loves her more than any other woman she’d ever known. Mikan is the only grounding she’s ever known and the only person to ever relate to her on such an intimate level.

Going back to the feeling of Mikan being prettier than her, (Y/n) stole Junko’s face entirely because of that feeling of inferiority. She never told Mikan because she was ashamed to admit that she was insecure, it would make her imperfect to be insecure.

Overall, she’s never loved Mikan as a girlfriend but they’ve always been all the other had during The Tragedy despite their ‘rivalry’ and insecurities surrounding the other.

After Neoworld: (Y/n) is definitely nervous to be around Mikan because of their history with each other and Junko. Before Mikan wakes up from the program she’s constantly worried about if the nurse will hate her or be disgusted by her. The way Mikan had treated her right before her execution hinted at some tenderness buried beneath discontent, but that could always change. When Mikan wakes up she immediately looks for (Y/n) on pure instinct.

They definitely try to help each other heal and cope with Junko’s manipulation and lies. They both have come to realize that Junko never loved either of them and they didn’t love each other - any of the comforts they had gathered in The Tragedy was a lie and they help each other through that realization.

“You’re more than what she made you.” is a common phrase between them because they know she only made them compete for her own entertainment and their despair.

It was cruel and they have to live with every emotional and physical scar from that time. But they still have each other.

Any sense of rivalry has dripped away from their bond and is now wholly intertwined by genuine friendship and connection. By their experiences and how they’re growing away from Junko and into themselves. Eventually, all their conversations stop being about Junko and healing and start being about a pretty shell Mikan found on the beach. Or how the water looks so inviting, they should go for a swim.

Or how the chairs need repainting.

Or how some flowers outside the front door would be lovely.

Or how good breakfast was this morning.

Kazuichi Souda:

The Tragedy: Kazuichi wasn’t as “enamored” with (Y/n) as he was Sonia, but he respected her Ultimate and higher intelligence enough to also refer to her as ‘miss’ when they went to school. Though he largely stopped calling her ‘Miss (Y/n)’ during The Tragedy he still respects her a lot and is even a little scared of her sometimes. Again, she’s way smarter than he is - she’s not a super genius like Izuru but she’s a smart cookie and he’s not so delusional to think he’s near her in intellect. So the fact she can copy his Ultimate status and be smarter than most people in their class is quite intimidating for him at times.

Because of the confidence she projects and her charisma and, again, higher intelligence than his, he often follows her word and example without much thought. Like if he saw her jump off a cliff, he would probably go along with it because he knows she probably has some plan to get out of the situation safely.

(Y/n) views Kazuichi sort of as a little brother - but one that follows you around like a puppy and always bugs you. She doesn’t expect much other than blind support from him and kind of accepts that he’s her “sidekick” so to speak. They didn’t view each other as equals or even true comrades - (Y/n) was always just better and that went unquestioned. She definitely used him to gain without putting much thought into the long-term of their relationship.

After Neoworld: Kazuichi had regained his memories in chunks as they left the program and at least could recall being so-called friends with (Y/n). When they awoke, they didn’t talk to each other that often since Kazuichi was extremely bitter about how she’d treated them all in the program (and him as a Remnant) and so she was left alone with Hajime.

It’s only as she actually begins healing and expressing more humane traits that he starts talking to her again. Neither apologizes for anything specific, they just aren’t those kinds of people and both parties can let it go easy enough - they’d both done horrific things and they know that. He invites her into his warehouse to take apart the Monokumas, he offers to go on walks along the beach with her - he finds it nice to be in her presence again.

Because even after what they’d been through, I feel like he does still deeply respect her due to her talent. He just also has gained more confidence in himself while in the program and therefore has more sense to not let her control his actions. Which, he finds that she hasn’t tried doing and that always encourages him to keep coming back.

Kazuichi thrives on positive feedback and (Y/n) knows this, so every time she can she’s expressing how much he means to her as a dear companion - both of them being hesitant to actually label themselves friends. Especially Kazuichi, who had already been hit by poor friendship and trust issues, remembering that (Y/n) used him during The Tragedy makes his brain go fuzzy on how he feels about her. Sometimes he’s angry and other times he forgives her wholeheartedly because he knows she’s sick and he wants her to be able to maintain the friendships that he’s able to.

I think it’s after she apologizes to everyone, pre-Nagito waking up but post Gundham and Nekomaru, that he really just lets go of everything.

It’s not easy to forget that he was just her tool but he knows that she’s better now and they start hanging out more often, by themselves, having a good ol’ time talking about absolute nonsense.

Respect turns into admiration.

Nagito Komaeda:

The Tragedy: So I’d already mentioned that (Y/n) influenced him into becoming Servant, but I wanna expand on that before digging into anything else. At heart, Nagito is a people pleaser to the Ultimates, and none more than the copycat who can master pretty much anything she wants. During their school years, she didn’t see anyone as her equal and that resonated with Nagito’s inferiority complex and while she hates people who have no confidence, she would hate to be like everyone else more. So she kinda just accepted the servitude that came with befriending Nagito on the first day of school up until The Tragedy where he practically begged her to take him with her wherever she went.

She was the first one to really hold onto his chain, both literally and metaphorically. He joined the Ultimate Despair with Junko to create a despair to overcome, but only (Y/n) was allowed to actually touch him - or else he started throwing a huge fit.

In order to spread despair and crush Nagito’s everlasting obsession with hope, she probably intentionally ignores and neglects him when he needs her.

This largely means when he’s mourning/remembering his parents and dog or his illnesses or when he’s falling into despair and needs her to pull him out, she’s just watching and doing nothing.

In fact, when Nagito had brought up his plans to join the Warriors of Hope he was really hoping she’d speak against it, and she didn’t. She actually encouraged it. Pushing him to leave her alone and join the WOH. It hurt, of course, it would, but he left all the same and they hadn’t spoken since despite their ‘friendship’. (Y/n) never bothered going after him, again to crush his love of hope.

She left him unhinged, alone, sick to fend for himself until he found the WOH, and even when he found them - she didn’t seem to care whether they let him live or killed him.

After Neoworld: Honestly? To say that she mourns Nagito, and her entire relationship with Nagito, is a huge fucking understatement. Especially as the others begin waking up and Hajime helps her grow, she just gets more and more depressed over her situation with Nagito. And as he takes longer and longer to wake up, she begins to accept that she was horrible to him and doesn’t deserve his forgiveness.

Before The Tragedy even, since they’d met. She always treated him with as little human respect as she could - she did it with everyone but especially him. He was basically just a little errand boy she liked to talk to and she didn’t treat him as more. During their time in despair, she was barely around for him, only holding him together when the others pushed her to do it because he was being annoying. She was so awful to the man she always claimed was her closest friend. And she wants him to hate her for it so bad.

Then he wakes up and he sees her and he smiles. He could never hate her and it only makes her feel worse.

Nagito sees how much she’s changed and he begins changing too, she tells him about how Hajime has helped her so much and he begins to follow her around with Hajime. She’s worried he’ll consider himself her lapdog again but it’s cleared up when he doesn’t run to her side one morning out of the few left before they leave.

In fact, it’s when he doesn’t speak to her for hours on end she realizes that every interaction they had was under his free will and choice.

He doesn’t do her chores for her. She doesn’t watch him fall apart silently. They talk like friends do. Not about how talentless people are worthless or how hope is all that matters but about how they can’t wait to rebuild their favorite hangout spots and make better memories there together.

They sort of have an unannounced “restart” where they just wipe the slate clean, mostly on (Y/n)’s part so she can treat Nagito how he deserves. As a true friend rather than a pawn.

#sdr2 x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #mikan tsumiki x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #anon chatter :)#antag reader

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falling-heights · 4 years

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I know that this one is a classic but how about a rivalry between goku and vegeta?

Now, what divides Goku and Vegeta the most in this rivalry, and what most often leads to conflict is the motive behind their actions and decisions.

Goku, though not always morally or mentally sound, is still his golden-hearted self, and will somewhat remain that way no matter the outcome. He won’t cause harm to you in any physical way, and he’ll do his best to heal what mental damage may surface.

Vegeta on the other hand, doesn’t have a limit. He’s calloused and cruel. What happens to you or anyone else is thrown out the window so long as he gets the results he wants.

So to speak: Goku is the light and gentle side, Vegeta is the dark and passionate side.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though, dear. There is much to be discussed before I can satisfy you with the most tempting bits. What’s most important in this moment, is their nature and how this will all start.

Vegeta is very boxed up about himself and how he feels. Though you won’t know half the crazy and grotesque thoughts that float around his head, it’s also likely that he won’t keep these feelings in check until he’s right at his breaking point.

Goku, quite dissimilarly, is openly vocal about his thoughts, and such thoughts will remain mild until he’s threatened. He’s overall friendly and welcoming which results in you being somewhat closer to him from the start. Though romance is equally open to them both.

Goku will be the first to take notice of the other. He’ll recognize Vegeta’s lingering glances quite early on.

From this, Goku will build up a subconscious hostility to the short saiyan whenever you’re around.

This will likewise cause Vegeta to grow an annoyance at Kakarot’s clingy traits. Goku may attempt to herd you around early on. Vegeta will sense paranoia for what Kakarot may be saying when he wasn’t around.

To secure himself safely into your life, and to ensure that his rival isn’t spewing ridiculous rumors, he will make sure to be around you more often.

Though still mild, this is only the start of their true rivalry, it only gets worse from here. They will compete with each other like this for awhile, in a feeble and petty effort to gain your respect before the other.

It is at this point that you will begin to notice the contrasts in their behavior and personalities.

Goku, though being far more open, is careless and aloof. He is outwardly friendly, but it almost never comes across as romantic when he’s trying to be genuine about it. Centered around this issue is his constant physical affection. Goku does it so often and frequently that it only ever comes off in a friendly way. Even something like a kiss may be mistaken as a joke. Goku will be closer to you in a friendly aspect, which Vegeta would struggle with most of the time.

But you can’t possibly think the Prince of all Saiyans does’t have some tricks up his sleeve as well, right?

What Goku lacks on a romantically and physically involved level, Vegeta sets new records.

He’s far more calm and calculating. His humorless and mannered personality will come off as honest and serious. You can’t help but feel drawn to his soft-spoken charm and quiet nature.

Not only that, but a physical gesture, something simple as holding your hand, or him being closer than usual is enough to make you blush. These kinds of moments will always be rare and fleeting, but they mean everything because he’s beginning to break away from his boxed up mentality.

It’s strange how something so elementary can feel so much more intense when it comes from another person. But don’t you worry honey, he has many more things in store for you.

I wouldn’t suggest you try to hide your reactions, though. He’s more than aware of how his body language is affecting you, and with each time he takes it to a new level, it’s a small victory against Kakarot. He’s confident that you’ll be his alone very soon, so long as he remains patient.

Unfortunately, whether or not his words and actions are truly genuine is hard to determine. His desire for you spreads like poison. Your touch, your voice, your scent is like a drug. One that he draws evermore addicted to with each interaction.

Now Goku is no fool in Vegeta’s cunning nature. He’ll know immediately once Vegeta starts his antics, and something will switch in his mind like a light.

He can tell when your gaze lingers on the other saiyan when he’s in sight. He won’t fail to miss the danger and chaos within Vegeta’s eyes either. Without fear without guilt or regret, almost as if it were a silent challenge of authority.

His paranoid behavior will only worsen the minute you ask him about Vegeta.

Why were you so curious about him now? What had Vegeta done to get your attention, even when not around? Why weren’t you as involved when you spent time with Goku?

He will try to convince, or rather plead with you to open your eyes and see the red herring. Goku may be a fool, but he doesn’t joke about the safety of his loved ones, this much you knew. The fear in his eyes is more than enough to make you wary. But, you shouldn’t focus your anxieties just on Vegeta. Because Goku is hardly any better.

He’ll try to isolate you, both from vegeta and the other Z-fighters. He knows what Vegeta is capable of, which will cause his delusions to escalate. A predominant disposition will take ahold of him. He’ll grow over-protective, hardly wanting you to go anywhere without his knowing. This is, likewise to Vegeta, add a factor into your growing discomfort around both men, though at this point, you’re position with Vegeta is much worse than Goku’s.

Now, it would be Vegeta’s turn to notice a shift in your behavior. You’re far more withdrawn, more shy to his touch. You don’t talk as much, and when you do, it’s always unsure and nervous. And worst of all, when Kakarot was around, you’d recently developed a subconscious habit to shift towards that clown if Vegeta entered the room.

This is both infuriating and teasing to the Prince of Saiyans. At one point, you had so carelessly flaunted everything at him, and now you could barely meet his eyes. This is his first tipping point. It’s a surprisingly mild reason, but out of anyone, he’s the most eager to lay claim to you. In his eyes, the sooner he can ward off Kakarot and assert himself as your lover, the better.

He may be unstable, but Vegeta is always calculating, always thinking about the next best strategy. Which is why he’ll be the first to confront you. He will wait for a perfect moment. A moment where no one will be around to hear or stop him. And a moment is all he’ll need.

Vegeta will corner you, most definitely in a physical manner. He enjoys when you get squeamish because of his touch. He’ll want answers. Why had you shut down so abruptly? Why had she been so eager to get away when he got close?

In the same breath, his controlling attitude will take over. He’ll say Kakarot is no more than a bad influence on you, especially when Vegeta would give you so much more.

“What good is a Clown before a King?”

You aren’t off the hook yet my dear. Oh no, Vegeta has much in store. He’ll want some significant sign of compliance. He won’t go all the way just yet, but still, something must be done. A kiss perhaps. He’s not one for constant physical affection, but you’re just asking for it with those large, watering eyes and quivering lips.

Though, perhaps you should count yourself lucky for the ever-watchful Goku. He may not be around every second of the day, but he’s honed his senses well enough to sense your aura from any location. He’ll immediately know when you begin to panic during Vegeta’s intrusion. It’s simply a matter of finding you in time, though vegeta’s presence with your own will give him more than enough motivation.

It won’t take him long. Goku will find you, uncomfortable by Vegeta’s advances, and in a state of minor hysteria. This will be his tipping point. He’d failed to protect you. And it wasn’t even innately your fault. Vegeta had been far more aggressive than he could have imagined, and it was his fault for not being there to protect you.

This sense of failure, this blow to his pride and sense of duty will fill him with a furor that could make the devil cower and weep. It won’t take more than a second for Goku to lost himself, turning super saiyan and ripping vegeta away from you. At this point he can’t even hear or see anything else other than Vegeta, and he was out to kill.

In these few seconds of freedom, you will be given a chance to run. The others, though most likely unaware of what stemmed this fight, will try their best to usher you away from the two saiyans. They can get you away, but they’re helpless to do anything except observe.

A battle between the 12 gods would be nothing compared to the brawl taking place between these two. This wasn’t a simple spar like olden times. No, this was a fight to the death. One that neither party intended to lose, especially when there was such a prize so valuable on the line.

There are only two ways this conflict can end. Compromise, or Death. [For your sake, I split these into two endings]

Death

Both men depraved.

Both men ravenous.

Both men seeking your favor and receiving none.

Nothing good can come of it.

I’d love to give Goku where his credit is due, and he’ll try his best, but he won’t be the one to rise victoriously in this.

You have no idea how capable Vegeta can be when he’s determined enough. And he’s never wanted anything more than he’s wanted you.

This will be a close battle.

He’ll barely have enough strength to survive, but all that matters is Kakarot’s demise. It doesn’t matter what he has to lose in the process.

It won’t take him long to find you.

Whether you’re running or hiding, he’ll find you with ease, and put a stop to your hope of freedom for good.

There won’t be anyone to stop him. They’d all died long ago during the fight, caught in the cross-fire.

Everything was perfect now. He had you, no one to stop him, and the power to do anything he wanted.

Submit before he forces you, it would only make things so much easier in this new way of survival.

You can only hope for another route of escape, or some way for Goku to come back and save you.

But this is unlikely.

Compromise

Yes, how exciting...

But compromise how, you might ask?

Fusion

And the only permanent fusion for these two could be the potara.

Now, we all know that if they fought to the death, only one will come out alive, and even that is a gamble far too risky for you dear.

Vegeta would be unwilling to admit defeat, and Goku is too worried to lose you.

For your sake, Vegeta may be willing to bite down his pride if it meant he could still somewhat have you as his.

Goku wouldn’t like it any more than his counterpart, but for you, he’d give up that freedom. Goku would be the one to propose the idea.

Only at the absolute minute, when he knew neither he nor Vegeta would be able to carry themselves much longer. He’d brought the pair of earrings as a precaution, knowing it may have been his only option.

You won’t have made it far when their forms fused. The pillar of light, that could have been seen hundreds of miles away, blinded you.

But the figure that emerged from this light was familiar. Two side-swept bangs, gloves, earrings, and that bastard smile. His eyes shone with a dark sense of possession. They immediately located your form in the small distance that you had made, his sneer seeming to grow evermore taunting.

The others that stayed behind to help you flee won’t last more than a few seconds against this beast.

You can’t imagine the monster that Vegito really is.

He’s worse than Goku and Vegeta could have ever been. His amplified traits don’t just lie in raw power. His emotions would also be stronger several dozen times over than either of his predecessors.

He may like to play with his food, but he can get serious in the blink of an eye. And keep in mind, he’s far more unstable and dangerous as well.

Vegito probably won’t kill you, but you can’t expect a normal life after he catches you. You’ll be safe, without a doubt. But no one will ever be as much as a threat as him.

Check out my other stuff!

#yandere dbz #yandere goku #yandere vegeta #yandere goku vs vegeta #yandere dragon ball #yandere dragon ball z #yandere #yandere headcanons #DBZ #yandere dbs #Dragon Ball Z #dragon ball #vegeta #goku #goku vs vegeta

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tothemeadow · 4 years

Note

LMAOOO THAT LAST ONE GOT ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY 🥵🥵 If you don’t mind continuing that, Mario kart with pillars and fem reader boys vs girls except it’s fucking battle mode:R e n a g a d e R o u n d u p and the girls are on the dodge the law side, we were WAY too confident in winning and as for punishment for losing...we gotta strip all the way down (just into undergarments I’m not that thirsty I swear-)

‘to claim victory pt. 2′ / Pillars x Reader

hehehe give into your thirst

warnings: spicy

words: 1,211

(a/n): Muichiro is 18+ in this!

“Will you just- fucking stop,” Sanemi growls.

All three of you girls giggle in delight as you successfully maneuver around Dry Bowser. Even Kyojuro voices his complaint, saying how unfair it is that you guys are too good at this. After all the shit you went through with regular races, there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that you girls are out for blood.

This game of cat and mouse only stirs the excitement dwindling in your belly. The stakes are even higher this time, and if you win, then the guys get to be the ones punished. You – nor Shinobu and Mitsuri – were not going to let this opportunity pass.

“Oh, crap!” Mitsuri suddenly exclaims. “Help a girl out here, ladies!”

It doesn’t take long for either you or Shinobu to spring into action. Drifting into a turn, you spin your character around and immediately head for where Mitsuri is being held captive. You shriek in delight as Shy Guy and Donkey Kong narrowly miss you. Thankfully, Shinobu keeps the others distracted as you free Mitsuri from her prison.

“Looks like I did it again,” you taunt, a smirk playing on your face. “You boys should really step up your game if you want to win.”

“Says the girl with hickeys covering her neck,” Obanai huffs.

Tengen hums. “Our victory will be flamboyant, I assure you!”

“Kiss my ass,” Shinobu tells the two. “Time’s going to run out before you even get the chance.”

Off to the side, you hear Muichiro snicker. Cocky little bastard. Even though it’s clear he’s on the losing side, he still manages to act like that. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mui,” you mockingly purr. “Defeat isn’t as bad as it seems. You should try it sometime.”

Looking up from his screen, Muichiro quickly sends you a mischievous grin. You catch his eye briefly; for some reason, seeing his smile makes you frown. You knew that little smile all too well. He has something up his sleeve, you’re sure of it.

It’s because of this that you get captured.

“Don’t mind me,” Tengen casually says.

You huff and bite back a curse. “Girls, if you will-“

“Already on it!” Mitsuri chirps.

You watch as Tanuki Mario gets closer to your character; holding your breath, you wait for the perfect moment to take off.

But it never comes.

Dry Bowser seemingly comes out of nowhere and manages to capture Tanuki Mario. Mitsuri yelps as she’s suddenly put into the cage, her eyes going wide. You grit your teeth. Shit. That only means Shinobu is left.

“Son of a bitch! Stay away, Giyuu!” Shinobu hisses. She gets so worked over this game.

“No,” he simply says. His character captures hers and she’s now joining you and Mitsuri.

Your heart drops to your stomach. No… No, this can’t be. It just can’t. You girls were so close to winning, fingertips reaching out for victory, but only for it to be ripped away.

Again, Muichiro snickers. “What was that about defeat? Can’t say I’m familiar with it.”

“Oh, no,” Mitsuri breathes. She gazes at you with bewildered eyes. “We’re going to get punished.”

Shinobu clicks her tongue. “Fine. More hickeys, right?”

The guys all cast knowing glances amongst each other. Each of them sets of their device, getting comfy in their spot. Tengen’s face cracks into a smile.

“It’s your lucky days, ladies! No more hickeys!”

You exhale a sigh of relief. Then you pause, your body tensing up. If hickeys aren’t the punishment, then what is? You really don’t wish to find out.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Tengen spreads his hands in a warm gesture. “Don’t worry too much, (y/n). It’s simple. Strip.” The way he says it makes it seem like he’s getting a piece of his favorite candy.

Shinobu scoffs while Mitsuri squeaks in embarrassment.

Kyojuro shifts in his seat, seemingly already excited about what was to come. Even Giyuu fidgets around a bit.

“Does it have to be the whole way?” Mitsuri whines, her face now a bright red.

Tengen merely shakes his head. “Just to the undies.” Damn him and that smile.

The three of you girls exchange looks. It’s not going to be simple to get yourselves out of this situation. Plus, you already agreed to do the punishment if you lost. The only thing left to do now is comply.

Surprisingly, Mitsuri is the one to make the first move. In timid movements, her slender fingers grab onto the hem of her sweater and she begins to lift it up. The expanse of her creamy skin comes into view; you swear you can hear Obanai cursing under his breath. As more of Mitsuri’s skin comes into view, you can feel yourself growing warm.

Mitsuri’s always been a pretty girl with an amazing physique. Sure, you’ve seen her without proper clothing, but in a situation like this? It’s like seeing her for the very first time. Your throat goes dry as she lifts her sweater up and over her head. Your eyes latch onto her luscious breasts; they’re only covered by a pink sheer fabric with cute little cherries stitched onto it. Her bra is actually really pretty, but now’s not the time to ogle over it.

Shinobu, on the other hand, only wants to get it done and over with. She nearly tears her shirt as she whips it off. She’s not as well-endowed as Mitsuri, but her physique is equally nice. Her top piece consists of a simple black bralette, its entirety covered by a thin layer of lace. Although she says nothing, her face is also flushed.

You gulp when you realize that it’s your turn. Muichiro and Giyuu already saw your bra earlier, so you don’t play shy as you pull off your own shirt. You’re actually thankful you chose a matching set today; covered in a satiny baby blue piece, goosebumps prickle across your skin.

None of the guys say anything as the three of you simultaneously remove your pants. Tengen bites back his smirk, leaning back in his seat. Sanemi chuckles lightly to himself.

“How lovely!” Kyojuro booms. The blush on his face rivals the hue of the tips of his hair.

“It really is,” Muichiro drawls, his eyes latched onto the hickey he bestowed upon your breast earlier.

Giyuu merely agrees as he gazes at the mark he left above the hem of your panties.

“Is this good enough?” Mitsuri squeaks. She crosses her arms over herself.

“Spin around,” Obanai barks.

With a jolt, you quickly do as you’re told. Shinobu mutters something under her breath. With your asses turned to the guys, you suck in a breath as someone audibly groans.

“I wanna sink my teeth into them,” Kyojuro murmurs.

“Same,” Tengen replies.

Glancing over your shoulder, you notice Giyuu’s eyes lingering on your behind. His cheeks are a faint pink.

“Why don’t we play the next match like this,” Muichiro offers offhandedly. The guys hastily voice their agreement in unison.

With a sigh, you move to sit back in your spot, but Tengen abruptly pulls you into his lap. “It’s comfier this way, isn’t it?” he whispers into your ear.

You shudder.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira #kny hashira x reader #request

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magnoliapip · 3 years

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The Storm Inside

Title : The Storm Inside

Book : Open Heart series (Choices - Pixelberry)

Description : Casey has been pushing everyone away and spiraling since the attack on the hospital and her loved ones are concerned.

Pairing : none established / ambiguous

Characters : Open Heart FMC (Casey Valentine), Sienna Trinh, Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma, Rafael Aviero, Elijah Greene, Aurora Emery, Kyra Santana, Danny (mentioned), Bobby (mentioned)

Warnings : mention of death, mental health

Prompt : “What’s the weather outside your window doing right now?...”

Casey stared vacantly out the floor length windows into the night sky above Boston from her seat against them on the living room floor. The sky was as clear as could be, a rarity for the area, but in a city as populous as Boston seeing the stars was a gift they were never granted. She stretched out her cramping legs to a different position as she leaned her head and left shoulder against the cool glass.

She looked out of windows with alarming frequency now. She had never really done so before, preferring to always be doing other things. She’d always thought of herself as a social person who enjoyed others company, though she could be either out dancing in a packed club or relaxing away a quiet night in with the same level of enjoyment. Friends and loved ones was all she really needed.

The attack on Edenbrook had changed everything, down to her very bones.

Some days her mood was somber but calm, like a cloudy day. Those were her best days and the ones she liked best. The cloudy days could be darker with threat of rain or lighter with the sun just missing the opportunity to come out. It was the closest to her old self she could feel. Unfortunately for her, those days were not only fleeting and the least common, they were becoming a rarity.

More often, her moods were a range of levels of sadness. All the way from a misting drizzle, enough to coat everything in water and make the air humid, to a torrentially pouring rain. Buckets from heavens and flash floods. The only thing those floods never seemed to leave clean was herself.

Other times she was cold. So, so cold. The best of those days were accompanied with a blizzard. Cold, but manageable with a shovel. On the days where she left her heart covered in an inch thick layer of ice and brandished her words like weaponized icicles, frigid and sharp, the people around her knew to steer clear. She was getting a little too good and stabbing them where it hurt.

Her worst moods felt like she should alert the National Weather Service. Tornado warnings and hurricane evacuations were a courtesy she never felt up to extending, adding to her already astronomical guilt. Like a twister, she could feel so angry and out of control she would tear through everyone in her path with no regard for who or what was in it. She had hurt people, especially the ones she loved, deeply but couldn’t bring herself to stop. It was like watching her body act with someone else at the controls.

It was just one more thing about herself to hate lately, and it had a long line to stand in.

The weather in reality never matched what she felt inside. It fascinated and disgusted her in equal measure. It had been sunny (mostly) since the funeral. It was repulsive.

Bobby was dead. Danny was dead. Raf had almost died and would have god knew how many long term problems ahead because of the illness. She had nearly died. And the world just kept spinning.

Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t any of them see that she was stuck there in that room. That she had never recovered. That she couldn’t recover.

At first, when her friends had noticed her strange new affinity for gazing outside for hours every night, they tried to pull her away. Distract her with things like herbal teas, chocolate ice cream and support. They tried to shower her with her favorite pastimes from before. They tried dancing around the apartment to silly pop songs and playing video games with her. But they didn’t understand. And they didn’t stop.

So she bit them. Hard.

Now they left her alone.

She was an awful person. She shouldn’t have been allowed to live. Someone should have realized it at the hospital and just let her die.

She could feel the tears well up again, stinging her eyes as her inner clouds started to rain again. The night sky outside stayed perfectly cloudy.

It was going to be a long night.

Sienna stood around the corner, watching her best friend shatter silently, as she had done every night for over a month. She whispered to those behind her, “Don’t you all see? Nothing is helping and she’s getting worse. After the last time she panicked when I reached out, I thought I’d give her space. We all did. But it’s not working. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

The gathered assembly of those in the cramped penthouse hallway who loved a young doctor named Casey watched her crumble, weeping without making a sound...and no one said anything. Some of the smartest doctors in the nation, and no one had an answer.

Not Bryce, who stood off to the side watching the pain on the face of the first true friend he’d made while at Edenbrook. Someone who had looked past the brash, self-confidence he used as a shield. The first person he hadn’t been afraid of discovering his past.

Not Rafael, who stood at the back of the crowd, down the hall, not able to stand to look at the person who made him believe he was worth as much to her as these intelligent, talented and more well off friends of hers. Not as she could no longer see how much she was worth.

Not Jackie, who was used to facing her problems by cackling at them until they scurried off with tails between legs or tearing them out with her teeth. But this was a problem that required delicacy, the type she had been shown by the very woman who now needed it.

Not Ethan, who leaned against the wall as he saw his protégé, the first person he’d ever believed in this much, destroy herself. She had forced herself, her goodness, into his life and helped fix his hurt self. Now it was his turn and he, for the first time, found himself at a loss.

Not Aurora, her rival turned friend who showed her at her loneliest that having friend was worth something after all. Not Elijah, a beacon of positivity who felt entirely inadequate with this situation that left her emotionally impaired. Not Kyra, desperate to find some way to give Casey the support she had given. Not Sienna, whose heart broke as she watched her very best friend, her dolphin, her rock in many ways fall further and further into herself.

Each one of them loved her. Each one of them cared for her. Each of them had a purpose and a reason to be at Edenbrook, but Casey was the glue that had held them all together. That glue, their foundation, was compromised. This time, they needed to find a way to save her. This time, she couldn’t waltz her way into a miracle seemingly handed down by the divines themselves to fix the situation.

Giving voice to their silent thoughts, Bryce whispered softer than before, “She needs us. She has to know it. She has to know we’re here somewhere inside, but can’t ask. Won’t ask.”

“We’ve already lost so much because of the attack,” Sienna said quietly. “We can’t lose her now. I can’t.”

“None of us can,” Rafael replied softly.

There was practically a flashing beacon over Casey’s head, screaming help me please. It was long overdue for them to stop ignoring it. For a few pregnant minutes, they all looked around at each other and back to her. This mismatched band of misfits and nerds, bound this night by their affection for one single woman. They stared at each other, desperate for answers…

Until the one who loved her most went rigid. Then stepped toward the rest, speaking slowly.

“I...may have an idea.”

[BREAK]

Notes : I left the ending open for interpretation on purpose. This story is not intended to be expanded on or have a second part. Y’all can decide who the person who loves her most is (and if that person isn’t presently named in my story, you can put them there yourself :D)

Also, I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to the amazing writers I’ve talking to lately. Due to some truly awful comments and the way they were affecting me mentally, I recently purged all of my works but a few from fanfiction.net, AO3, and here on tumblr. Talking to, interacting with, and just seeing you lovelies in action has led me to believe I should start to do this again.

Huge shout out to @jerzwriter and @lovealexhunt for being the lovely souls they are. You may have no idea who I am, especially on this blog rather than my main, but I will never stop being grateful for the positivity you put into the world. Thank you.

#choices #open heart #choices open heart #open heart mc #casey valentine #ethan ramsey #bryce lahela #jackie varma #rafael aveiro #sienna trinh #elijah greene #aurora emery #kyra santana #magnoliapip

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tumblezwei · 4 years

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Why Kyoko Mogami is the GOAT

And why y’all are SLEEPING ON HER

Spoilers for Skip Beat, but honestly idk how much of the story I’m gonna get into for this since I’m flying by the seat of my pants. Still, read at your own risk.

Also this is LONG lmao

Kyoko Mogami is a 16 year old middle school drop-out that works two jobs day and night in order to pay rent for the Tokyo apartment that she lives in all by herself 6 days out of the week. Going into the first chapter, there are three things immediately clear about her.

1. She’s cheerful, kind, and also kind of batshit insane. From the first moment we meet her, her personality is throwing itself at our faces and refusing to calm down. (apologies for the bad quality images, I work with what I have)

2. She loves Sho Fuwa, her childhood friend and rising rock-star that asked Kyoko to come with him to Tokyo after middle school graduation to support his career

3. Nothing matters to her as long as Sho is happy. Sure, she laments that her love for girly dresses, cosmetics, and fairy tale princesses will never amount to anything since all of her money is going toward paying the rent on her and Sho’s apartment, but that’s fine. As long as her precious Sho is happy, so is she.

And, as you’d expect, things go to shit pretty quickly afterwards. During one her off days from her night job, Kyoko decides to visit Sho at his recording studio with dinner. After sneaking in past the hoards of squealing teenage girls waiting outside to catch a glimpse of him, she overhears him talking to his manager.

“I’m the heir to a prominent Japanese inn, do you think I’ve ever cooked or cleaned all by myself?” She hears.

“That’s awful,” the manager replies, “you make it sound as if you brought her just to be your maid.”

“She’s basically been my maid since I was a kid, or else I wouldn’t have brought her along with me. It’s not like I forced her, I asked her a question and gave her the choice. It’s only natural that she’d work her butt off to support me.”

And he just keeps going. Once he’s made enough to live independently, he’ll send her back. How dare his parents try to set him up with a plain-looking girl like her. She doesn’t even wear make-up!

As images of flash in Kyoko’s mind of standing in front of make-up stores with no money to buy anything, she takes Sho’s words just as well as one might expect. By unleashing the box of tucked away emotions she’s held in her chest and swearing to take revenge on Sho for using her and throwing her away like this.

. I failed to mention this at the start, but the beginning of the chapter introduces us to the most important piece of symbolism in Kyoko’s character development: Pandora’s box.

For Kyoko’s entire life, she’s held this box inside herself. In myth, once this box was opened, all of the evil of the world is unleashed, never to be put back inside. So for Kyoko, the metaphor is quite apt. Hearing Sho’s words unlocks the box and unleashes a kind of anger that not even Kyoko knew she was capable of, a kind of determination and vengeance that has her dyeing her hair and staking outside of a talent manager’s house for days on end to whittle down his willpower and give her a chance to audition at Sho’s rival talent agency, LME. Every time she hears his name, or sees his picture, she’s filled with myopic sense of rage that no one can calm her down from.

Her sole mission in life is to get revenge on Sho Fuwa, a sentiment that finds her at odds with LME’s top actor, Ren Tsuruga, who sees her one-sided quest for vengeance as an insult to people who truly love acting. But as if Kyoko cares, she needs to get revenge!

I’m gonna drop the pseudo-narration for a bit because I actually need to skip over a fair bit of plot to get to what I think makes Kyoko incredibly compelling, outside of being the funniest female character in existence. We’re going to jump forward in time to Kyoko’s first acting gig. Well, not so much an gig as much as it is a competition. She’s been tasked to play the role of a dignified inn keeper that’s serving tea to the main male character. After having broken her ankle and been challenged by the real lead actress, this is her first shot to prove she has the talent to make it in the acting industry. So in order to immerse herself in the role, she utilizes her experience of being trained by Sho’s mother to take care of the inn that his family owned. It’s here that we finally understand that Kyoko giving up her life back home for Sho wasn’t just a spur of the moment decision brought about by infatuation. It was something she’d been doing for her entire life. Everything she knows how to do, every skill she’s obtained, has been because of Sho. And this is the moment that she realizes that fact too. (the first image is from after the scene is done, wherein Kyoko cannot snap herself out of her character due to the lessons she was taught as a child, despite her sitting position making her broken ankle unbearably painful).

Even her righteous fury at being left in the dust is focused solely on Sho fucking Fuwa. Is there anything that she has than can be attributed to her own success? Does she have any skills that can’t be traced back to trying to make Sho happy? Who is Kyoko Mogami? Is she worth anything without Sho?

And I want to make this clear right now, because I know the term “shoujo” makes people hesitate. THIS is what Skip Beat is about. Kyoko’s journey to find out who she is, and with every new role she takes on and with every experience she gains, she becomes just a little closer to finding out who she is and what she wants for herself.

We watch as her love for acting slowly eclipses her thirst for revenge. A few arcs after this moment, she is contacted about a job to act in a music PV with none other than Sho himself. In the beginning, she accepts the job in order to prove to Sho that she’s climbing the ladder and catching up to him, but her performance suffers whenever she thinks about her revenge. And what saves her isn’t even putting aside her revenge, but prioritizing her own feelings above it. She wants to act! She wants to put on a good performance! So she needs to put aside those feelings of anger and draw from her past experiences to create a character that leaves Sho in the dust.

I’m gonna bet y’all are wondering about the romance, though. Because this is a shoujo, and of course it has romance. But hey, guess what? That romance is equally compelling and is an integral part to Kyoko’s character too. In the first....5 or so arcs, Ren Tsuruga ‘s relationship with Kyoko crawls it’s way out of the it’s rocky beginnings, and he slowly becomes a mentor figure to Kyoko. He’s her superior in acting, and she looks to him often for support and guidance when she’s struggling to perform a role or having difficulty with her fellow actors. To Kyoko, Ren is the goal, his level of acting is what she aspires to be, so she can stand on equal footing with him. Before there’s even a whiff of romance between them, there develops a solid bond of trust and support. And once the romance starts. Hoo boy.

To fully understand why it’s taken 12 years irl for a confession scene to finally take place, we need to bring back the metaphor of Pandora’s box. Because not everything escaped Pandora’s box when it was opened. Pandora was able to shut the box just in time for one thing to stay locked inside: hope. In the myth, this is a good thing, while negative and vile emotions run free, hope still exists within people to become better. But for Kyoko, the box isn’t a safe place, it’s a repressed place. She spent her entire life locking away the negative emotions she felt, placing a smile on her face and hoping for Sho’s happiness. And when those emotions are set lose, she locks the box back up, sealing something else inside. Her hope, her confidence in anything having to do with love.

It’s not just that Kyoko isn’t in love anymore, she feels as if she can’t be in love anymore, that she’s entirely incapable of it. The idea of falling in love with someone else terrifies her. What if she goes back to the way she was before? An empty shell that exists for other people and not herself. The box has been sealed tightly again, and by God this time she’s not going to let anything open it. And like, I don’t want to spoil much in this, as contradictory as that sounds. Because the scene where she realizes she loves Ren? One of the best fucking scenes in any romance manga ever.

And. God. I haven’t even touched on her mom. Kyoko’s desire for love, that became so warped under Sho and so desolate after his betrayal, can all stem back to Saena Mogami. A woman who, no matter what Kyoko did, rejected any affection that her child tried to give, and gave none in return. “Even a mother can hate her own child.” We get bits and pieces of what Kyoko’s mother was like, and the environment that a very young Kyoko was raised in before her mother left her in the care of Sho’s parents. And eventually we realize that Kyoko isn’t afraid of her love being rejected twice, but a third time.

Like, y’all, I’m not good at these kind of essays. I keep wanting to go off on tangents, nothing is ever focused, I spend to much time just reading the manga instead of writing this fucking post. But please believe me when I tell you that Kyoko Mogamis character development is like none other. She’s truly at the top of her genre and it’s an actual crime that she’s so underrated.

I HAVEN’T EVEN TALKED ABOUT KANAE, THE WEISS TO HER RUBY, THE TSUNDERE TO HER GENKI

Before Kyoko gets even a single arc with Ren, she gets two with Kanae. The first with Kanae as a central figure, and the second where Kanae is her support. She’s the one that gives Kyoko the eureka moment she needs to pull of her performance with Sho. They are one of the most developed and deep friendships in shoujo that I’ve ever seen AND Y’ALL NEED TO STOP SLEEPING ON IT. LOOK AT THESE TWO

And don’t take this poorly assembled post at face value, I’ve left out a lot of shit. Starting with how fucking funny this manga is. Kyoko’s special talent for her LME audition is peeling vegetables, there’s a running gag where Ren asks for her advice while she’s in a giant chicken costume, unaware that it’s her, the president of LME is an eccentric millionaire that likes to dress up in different themed costumes every day and loves throwing extravagant parties, Kyoko’s hobby is making voodoo dolls and talks to a miniature Ren doll whenever she needs encouragement or advice.

And it’s all packaged alongside some of the most compelling character development I’ve ever seen (for both Kyoko and Ren), and some absolutely heartbreaking drama. You will never know true pain until “I don’t have a daughter.”

Read this, ya’ll. You won’t regret it.

#I'm not going back over this because I KNOW it's not coherent but FUCK IT #skip beat #rambling #long post

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hphmmatthewluther · 3 years

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" If I had to rate my panic level from 1 to 10, it’d be pi. It’s low level, but always there. "

Name: Matthew David Luther Species: Wizard Gender: Male Physical appearance: Slightly taller and thinner than average with brown hair that falls over his green eyes. Height: 4′11′’(Year 1) - 6′1′’(Year 7) Weight/Body Type: He’s tall and thin, but has no clue how much he weighs. Personality: Matthew is sensitive to other people’s feelings and is very good at reading people, although he is constantly doubting himself. The one thing he is sure of himself in is his intelligence; he is constantly calculating and mentally notes almost everything around him. This comes in handy in a place as confusing as Hogwarts: it may take a bit, but Matthew can always put the pieces together. Date of Birth: 16th February 1973 Blood Status: Half-blood (Wizard Mother, Muggle Father) Family Info: Lucia Doherty was a powerful pureblood Ministry Witch who met and fell in love with Peter Luther, a Muggle plumber, whom she had Jacob with. When Voldemort began to rise she left and wiped Peter’s memory to keep him and their children safe, meaning he forgot about Jacob who stayed with her, but for reasons unknown Peter somehow remembered his wife and eldest son and reunited. Soon after this, Matthew was born, growing up in the Muggle world but enjoying knowledge of Wizardry. Lucia later tried to erase his memories again when the Wizarding War broke out, but Matthew found her and told her to put his father back to normal, discovering his magic in the process. Recently, things have been difficult as Peter has had difficulty finding work. When Matthew attempts to describe Thatcher to his mother, she assumes the Muggle government has been infiltrated by a hag.

He also has wizard Ancestry on his father’s side, with the famous Magizoologist Newt Scamander being his Great Uncle and Queenie Goldstein being his Great Grandmother.

Wand: Cedar wood, 14 1/2 inch, pliant flexibility Boggart: Being stuck somewhere with no way out at all. Animagus Form: Sparrow. Patronus: White Stallion House: Ravenclaw, Prefect in Year 5 Quidditch Position: Chaser Academics: Took Divination, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures into Year 3 Partners: None so far (bar that one time), but the Celestial Ball is on the horizon... Closest Friends: Rowan Khanna: Matthew’s best friend, they have been close ever since Diagon Alley. They both like working on the Cursed Vaults, as well as playing Wizard Chess and Gobstones together. Rowan is always there when Matthew needs him, and even helped him with Merula when nobody else would. Matthew, in return, helps them be more confident, as he’s aware how difficult that can be sometimes. Finally, Matthew is the only one who knows about Rowan’s huge crush on... Penny Haywood: Bonding over their skills at potions, Penny is another of Matthew’s closest allies. Matthew relies on her to keep the Hogwarts rumour mill in check, especially important considering who he’s secretly dating. Matthew did, at first, have a minor crush on her, but always maintained that he wouldn’t intrude on Rowan, which helped improve their confidence in the matter. Barnaby Lee: Barnaby and Matthew met after Barnaby wound up in the Magical Creatures Reserve on his way to Transfiguration. They both do work with the creatures in the reserve there, sharing a love of animals. Barnaby is a great deal of help to Matthew as he can always be counted on to point out the obvious solution when Matthew starts overthinking. He’s also willing to share what happens in the Slytherin Common Room and No, it definitely isn’t so Matthew knows if Merula’s ok and No he isn’t turning red what do you mean Tulip Karasu: Matthew’s only intellectual equal. When Merula tried to get Matthew framed for stealing potions ingredients he quickly deduced that someone in Ravenclaw was working with Merula. In a rare moment of confidence he declared this to his House, leading to a Battle of Wits between the two. Tulip immediately realised how Matthew felt about Merula and worked to get them together. Chiara Lobosca: The only girl to pull on Matthew’s heartstrings before Merula. They became friends after helping to quell the werewolf rumours, and worked together to find the Cursed Vaults. They discussed the idea of them being together (and did more than discuss), but decided that they were happier as friends. Bill Weasley: Really, the one who saved the school. Bill helped Matthew out of his shell, so to speak, and consoled him when things became really tough when it came to the Ice Vault. Together, they defeated the Ice Knight and entered the first Cursed Vault together, and went on to work together more in the future. He also was instrumental in pushing Matthew towards curse-breaking. Merula Snyde: Matthew Luther’s rival in the hunt for the Cursed Vaults. For a while, she was a bully, especially towards Ben Copper, but Matthew was able to win a duel against her and made her never pick on him again. After that, while remaining antisocial, she became more tolerable, as several threats forced the two to work together. The two are very close. They’ve shared an accidental kiss, cast their Patronus together, cared for a Thestral, and defeated many evil magical beings. Recently, Matthew has realised that he had met her before, many years ago, on the day he searched for his mother. After that, they agreed to no longer be enemies, merely rivals. Matthew has come to the conclusion that he has a crush.

Foes: “R”: The dark organisation worked to trap Jacob, thus making Matthew’s early time in school rather difficult. However, there’s more to this cabal than at first glance... Edwin the Changeling: Known as “The Bard”, he attempted to take over Matthew’s body by force, slowly moving to allow more changelings in. However, he was defeated by Matthew and Merula. Controlling, sexist, and rude to everyone around him, he appeared to have been destroyed when Ismelda Murk melted the Ice he had hidden himself in. Preston Crawford: A slimy Slytherin in Matthew’s year who seems to want nothing less than to ruin everyone’s day. Even Merula doesn’t like him, which is saying something. Erika Rath: Matthew’s only foe who doesn’t irritate him. He and Erika became Rivals as a result of being in differing quidditch teams, and this feud only worsened after Skye Parkin spread rumours that she destroyed Matthew’s broom. It’s unclear where they stand after Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup (especially considering she doesn’t talk much). Pets: As of Now (1987) Matthew has a pet Cat named Danny, a toad named Ribby and a rat named Jerma, and has adopted a Niffler, Porlock, Abraxan, Fairy, Thestral and Imp.

Who knows, this sideblog may go somewhere! We’ll see! Thanks to @hogwarts-misery for the template!

#harry potter #hphm #hphm jacobs sibling #hp oc #original character #character profile #hogwarts mystery #fuck jkr tho #jacob's sibling x merula #merula snyde #rowan khanna #penny haywood #barnaby lee #tulip karasu #chiara lobosca #bill weasley #hphm mc

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engaged19times · 3 years

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RHONJ Recrap - season 11, ep 1 - C U Next Tuesday!

Greetings fellow prostitution whores and welcome to my new weekly recrap of American institution The Real Housewives of New Jersey! Before I jump in I’ll introduce myself by saying that I’m a housewives super fan (I even watched DC, an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst sister-in-law), an underemployed comedy writer (I can’t define “napalm” either, Lauren Manzo), and nothing makes me happier than to watch 6 bedazzled hypocrites in Cheesecake Factory mansions argue etiquette and loyalty between physical altercations in the world renowned cultural hub of Paterson, New Jersey. I know essay recaps are a bit of a relic but I am fond of ye olde written word so please enjoy this blast from the past, you scumbags!

We open without fanfare mid-scene to red-eyed Jackie and dead-eyed Teresa sitting in Margaret’s partially finished, wallpaper smothered home. We get the Bad Girls Club black-and-white flashes but unlike in Beverly Hills we’re not flashing to “three months earlier” but instead to “three days earlier.” It might take women of less gumption precious time to build to a production-halting confrontation but it only takes these agents of chaos half a week to get the meatball rolling.

Let’s back up a little to the ominous “three days prior” and catch up with our hot girls. It’s Jackie’s giant hot husband’s 46th birthday so she’s throwing him a party under a tent in the parking lot of a Greek restaurant. We learn that Teresa and Joe’s father has sadly passed in the offseason and Dolores Thee Stallion and Margaret have both had full cosmetic overhauls - Dolores with a second butt enhancement that left her with a giant hip scar rivaled only by Sally from Nightmare before Christmas and Margaret with a boob lift and apparent nipple sharpening (is that a procedure?) that she advertises in a blush silk top with no bra. Never one to be outdone at a parking lot birthday party, Joe Gorga arrives with his storyline - I mean wife, Melissa - also smuggling raisins under a skin tight children’s white T-shirt. Nipples are trending, ladies!

The Nightmare Before Christmas.

A beautiful boob lift.

Tarzan’s headlights.

Margaret’s hot employee Lexi and Teresa’s hot realtor Michelle (both of whom are official friends-of this year), as well as iconic social wrecking ball and Aydin Center for Plastic Surgery mascot Jennifer all saunter in for car park cocktails at this 3D nipple fashion show and as the night devolves we see the cast getting truly shit-housed on shots when out of nowhere storyline sniper Teresa drops the bomb that she heard sexy birthday Bigfoot Evan is cheating on Jackie... more specifically, that he “does stuff” at the gym but mysteriously can’t remember any details or where she heard this head-scratching accusation that draws as many gasps as it does “huhs?” Honest straight people question: do y’all hook up at gyms? And if so, where? Are there co-ed saunas now? Also can one of you explain the allure of Mike and Molly to me? Moving on. Most shocking was that the Perez Hilton of North Jersey doesn’t just drop this wild accusation once, she gleefully skips through this asphalt soiree like a goddamn town crier, addressing everyone she passes like Belle through the town square.

The next day the hard partying crew of Jersey Shore: All Grown Up recovers from their throbbing hangovers and we see cool mom Melissa traipsing through her particle board mausoleum in see-through sweatpants with a visible thong in front of her kids’ friends (you girls keep me young!), Marge Sr. driving a blue Mini Cooper with eyelashes on the headlights (which I assume are like the spinning rims of the Jersey Grandma community), and a flashback of Margaret’s Joe puking next to a tree (relatable, my dude).

Marge Sr.: Fully Loaded.

You girls keep me young!

Over at Jennifer’s palatial child farm we learn that her parents fight so much these days that she moved her father (Carl from Up!) to her multi-generational compound which has only angered her mother more.

Jennifer’s sweet dad.

We then find out Dolores’s dry boyfriend David with whom she shares the burning passion of a melting ice sculpture now lives with her bulging slab of a son Frankie Jr. in the house he and Delores built together but Dolores curiously still lives with her also bulging but slightly slimey ex Frank Sr. in her original house, a near Braunwyn-level web of over-explained but still vague relationship fuckery of which none of them seem on the same page. Dolores hid her surgery from David until the day before, David still works constantly so she hangs out with her ex all the time, and I can’t help but think that we aren’t getting the full story on whatever the fuck is happening under these two roofs. Are they brother-husbands? Is Frank Sr. piping both of them? Can Frankie Jr. DM me his nudes please? The only one being straight-forward in these duel households of confusion is Dolores’s dog who is simply named Dog and I honestly appreciate his refreshing transparency.

Dog Catania, king of transparency.

Finally, Jackie calls Teresa to organize an infamous Jersey sit-down because she somehow got wind of the out-of-thin-air accusations that Teresa all but presented with a bull horn and a PowerPoint at Evan’s parking lot social. They decide to meet at Margaret’s partially constructed house/ wallpaper showroom because it’s neutral territory to hash things out in a relaxing landscape of ladders and contrasting patterns and the tension is so thick you could cut it with one of Margaret’s newly renovated nipples.

Jackie pleads with Tre to clear her husband’s good name and Tre enters a baffling Kelly-Anne Conway bullshit loop which includes such hits as “woman to woman, if I heard this you wouldn’t want me to tell you?” (a reasonable point which is actually working against Teresa because it’s the opposite of what she did), then explaining to Margaret the immediately contradictory “I didn’t tell her and it’s not like I told Evan, I told my friends” (which is an explanation of what she obviously did wrong but said in the tone of a defense), the wacky last ditch nonsense deflection “Alright let me tell you the reason why I did it. This year, now, you know I’m single now. I’ve been approached by a lot of married men that think that it’s OK to have affairs,” and finally just saying fuck it and rewriting history “I did not spread a rumor, I heard a rumor.”

The truth is that Teresa was retaliating for a cheating rumor Jackie entertained about her last year but neither can be held to such unreasonable expectations like addressing reality or admitting fault which is actually ideal because if I cared to see emotionally mature community leaders converse thoughtfully I’d watch Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday not this unhinged turnpike circus.

Jackie’s rival won’t budge so she chooses the nuclear option, looks the reigning matriarch of Paterson in her vacant eyes, and declares confidently “I heard Gia snorts coke in the bathroom at parties” which stopped time on Earth as far as I’m concerned. Is this wild accusation true? Probably not. Was this retaliatory tit equal to the offending tat? Debatable. Do I blame Teresa for immediately whipping into a tailspin and storming out screaming the C-word (no Kathy Wakile, not “canoli kit”) at Jackie no less than 80 times? Girl, no I do not. Jackie has since clarified (backtracked?) that this was an analogy not a rumor she heard which... OK, and whether or not either of the atomic bombs dropped in this breakneck premiere were true, I’m excited to watch our Paterson superstars battle it out for another batshit season!

Esteemed poet laureat of Paterson, NJ.

Join me and my own rock hard nipples next week to recrap a girls trip to Lake George, more developments in the case of Jackie vs Teresa: Jersey Crime Story, and hopefully another cameo by breakout superstar Dog Catania! Please share this recrap with the prostitution whores in your life if you enjoy and follow me on Tumblr (engaged19times), Insta (@engagednineteentimes), and Twitter (@_engaged19times)! I’m recrapping weekly but I don’t get screeners (yet) and it takes me a few days to catch up so please be patient!

XO engaged19times

#rhonj #real housewives #teresa giudice #margaret josephs #jennifer aydin #jackie goldschneider #Dolores Catania #melissa gorga #bravo #bravotv #real housewives of New Jersey #recrap #engaged19times

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bonesaldente · 3 years

Text

Ferocious I Darth Maul x Reader

Chapter 9: Apart

last chapter

all chapters

ao3

words: ~2300

_____

War seems to follow him like a predator stalking its prey. Ever since he was a child, he was waging a war - against his master, against the Jedi, against himself. He knows it is the doing of the dark side that won’t allow for a moment of peace, constantly creating conflict where there is none to further fuel him. The only times he felt something like serenity were the ones spent with you in private, when he didn’t have an image to uphold or enemies to watch out for. These were the most peaceful moments of his existence, for he knew everything he needed to protect was right there in his arms, as safe as you could be.

Then, of course, there were the times of solitude with his brother. They, too, brought a type of peace, but it was vastly different in that they did not hold the same kind of honesty the times with you did. He knew his brother never chose to join him. He knew the nightsisters made him into something he was not and used him as a puppet, yet the feeling of having a brother, family, was enough to quieten the cries in the back of his mind.

Now both of these people are gone.

He clenches his fists to give his insatiable rage some outlet and allow his mind to focus once more. One person is gone forever, slaughtered by no other than master. But the other is still alive, he is certain, separated from him right when he thought they were safe at last.

Being captured by Sidious was a heavy setback, one that drew out your rescue much longer than he ever wanted. With the civil war on Mandalore and his forces spread thin, Maul feels his hopes diminish. How can he rescue you from the Republic if he doesn’t know your location, doesn’t have the forces to effectively fight them or even pose a threat to them, and now doesn’t even have his brother to confide in for advice?

He is overwhelmed. Overwhelmed and exhausted to his bones, wanting nothing more than to go back to the day in the throne room and alter his decision.

A series of coughs from an alcove in the wall snaps him out of his downward spiral of thoughts. There on the ground sits the last remaining member of his family, even though their relationship has been less than familiar in the past. He may not have been able to protect you the way he swore he would, but he would most certainly care for your sister during your absence.

“Have you found anything?” She asks hoarsely and looks up at him with eyes that hold a sadness that could rival his own internally.

“Nothing,” he admits quietly, studying the miserable state of Loa.

“What are we going to do?” She whispers, staring at the wall again while hugging her knees.

“I… I’ll get her back. I promise.”

“How?” She doesn’t trust as easily as her usually light demeanor would let on. It reminds him of you.

“If need be, I will board their cruiser alone and fight my way through. I won’t rest until she’s back with us.”

“We don’t even know where she is.”

She is right and it pains him. He hasn’t been able to feel you at all. It isn’t necessarily a sign that you are unwell, but most likely an indicator that you are far, far away from him. Space is vast and the chances of finding a particular cruiser without any information are close to zero. Now, they don’t even have the crime syndicates to get information from.

His shoulders drop and he rubs his temples, struggling to find the right words to console the one entrusted to him. Eventually, he sits down on his knees beside her.

Her force signature is largely different at first, but the more he hones in on it, the more he can feel the similarities in the small swirls of energy surrounding her and you, and it provides him with the tiniest bit of solace.

When he opens his eyes again, he is almost glad she at least doesn’t have your eyes. If she did, it would be all the more painful to see them wide open now, staring at him like the simple act of sitting on the ground defied his nature.

He clears his throat.

“Your sister is the most competent person I know. She broke out of Sundari prison in less than ten minutes, and even the Jedi won’t be able to hold her,” I hope. “She’ll find a way to get in touch with us. Either that or we will be notified of the cruiser’s location when they inevitably are forced to make a stop.”

She says nothing in response, the truth that there is nothing they can do for now hanging heavily in the air.

He wishes he could connect with her more, but there is an impermeable power imbalance that divides the air between them. It was always easier when you were around.

“You’re really important to her.”

Her statement is quiet, like it is a secret she is sharing with him.

“Ever since she saw you on Zanbar she’s been different. Before, she used to get this look sometimes, like she was missing something, though she never talked about it. But I get it now.” Her frown turns into a look of earnestness. “She trusts you. And if my sister decides you are worth her trust, then so do I.”

Trust is a sparse resource to come by these days.

“I will not fail you,” he promises, equally sincere.

However he will achieve that, he doesn’t know. Right now, all he can do is trust in your abilities. All comms are set to the highest sensitivity possible, so if you contact any Mandalorian lines, he will know.

He walks back to the cockpit and sits down in the copilot chair, staring into the emptiness of space.

Somewhere out there, you are waiting for him. And he will find you.

Your hands hold the rifle steady while you hold your breath, not allowing a single sound to disturb the silence of the forest. Your target is right in the center of the scope you’re looking through, now bowing down to feed on the leaves of a bush.

The sound of your shot seems louder than it’s ever been when it breaks through the quiet, but your prey has already fallen to the ground dead before the soundwaves even reach its ears. Satisfied with your work, you lean back on your heels, screwing the scope off your rifle and fastening the weapon on your back once more.

You remain on guard while you head toward what will be your dinner for tonight, and probably tomorrow. You and your companion, whom you did not choose to spend time with, have yet to encounter any predators. The one time you thought you did, the noise came from a branch falling off a rotten tree, but you can never be too careful.

The hoofed creature weighs more than you expected, and by the time you’ve reached the makeshift camp, you’re panting.

“Nice catch,” Kenobi comments, not turning his attention away from the wires he is crouched in front of.

“You’re presuming I’ll share it with you.”

“If I need to hunt for my own food, we’ll be stuck here longer.”

Good point. You say nothing.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to make a fire tonight. The sun is setting again and I can’t work in the dark.” “You were the one who said it’d attract predators.” You point out passive-aggressively.

“I didn’t know then that the days would be this short and the nights this long. If we ever want to send out a signal, I’ll have to work at night too.”

“Whatever,” you utter, picking up a few twigs and tossing them into the middle of the small clearing.

The biggest advantage to having an actual fire is that you can finally roast the animal’s meat instead of painstakingly holding every small piece over the small flame produced by the lighter on your vambrace.

Wordlessly, you both chew on the food while sitting in complete opposite corners of the camp. It is no secret that your brief alliance is involuntary and that neither of you are interested in becoming friends along the way, so you don’t even pretend to like each other.

The sound of a twig snapping nearly makes you jump out of your skin and you are on your feet in the blink of an eye. “Did you hear that?” You ask under your breath, eyes trying to make out any shapes in the blackness of the woods, the light of the fire hardly enough to reach the edge of the clearing, let alone its surroundings.

“I can feel something… There’s an animal.”

He ignites his lightsaber and for once, you are fine with him wielding the weapon.

“Where is it?” You whisper, slowly drawing your vibroblades.

“It’s… Down! ”

You don’t drop a second too soon, because the very moment your body comes in contact with the ground, something flies over you with a wild roar, landing only inches from you.

The animal doesn’t turn back around to launch another attack on you, targeting Kenobi in your stead. You can’t see what’s happening, but apparently, its jaw misses him, since when you are back on your feet, Kenobi is still very much alive, holding out his lightsaber defensively and wow-

That animal is massive.

Its muscled body is at least fifteen feet long, saliva dripping from fangs the size of your shinbone while its puffy tail whips back and forth angrily.

“Oh dear,” you breathe, watching as its eyes flicker back and forth between you and Kenobi, seemingly undecided on who would make for a better meal.

Please pick Kenobi, please attack him, I won’t make for a good snack at all, I-

It hesitates for a moment too long and suddenly lets out an ear-shattering cry when the blue blade of a lightsaber neatly slices one of his legs off.

Acting faster than your fear, you jump forward and use the opening Kenobi created to bury your blade right where you guess its jugular is, narrowly evading the deadly swipe of its claws and finally reveling in the gurgling sound it emits as it perishes.

For a minute, you’re both just staring at the carcass as a puddle of blood forms around your feet. Then, you squat and remove one of the enormous fangs from its mouth.

“A trophy? Really?” The Jedi sounds positively exasperated.

“I’ll use it to slit your throat once we are off this planet.”

He doesn’t look too worried.

Good. He won’t see it coming.

“Perhaps keeping the body here will scare off others of its kind,” he ponders.

“Or they’re sentient enough to feel vengeance,” you finish the thought. “I say we get rid of it.”

“Good luck, then.”

You freeze, examining his barely illuminated face.

“You won’t help me.”

“Correct.”

“Come on! You want to keep this around because you think it might scare other animals away?”

“They’ll smell it!” He argues.

“It won’t smell like much of anything other than death once it starts to rot,” you retort angrily.

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” His entire demeanor has changed to something less contained, less defensive than his usual stance. “After all, you’re the expert when it comes to cold-blooded murder.”

You take a step back in surprise.

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

“Do you think I want to be stranded with you here?” He hisses. “Well, I don’t. I don’t know how, but the longer I’m around you, the more I feel like the dark side surrounds you.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not even force-sensitive.”

“I know that.” His tone is slightly calmer now. “But I know what I’m sensing.”

Silently, you calculate the expression on his face, fiddling with the ring on your finger.

“Is it possible,” you begin quietly, “for an individual to, I don’t know, plant something inside the mind that would… alter a person?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just answer the question.”

The Jedi sighs, sitting down tiredly a few feet away from you.

“I wouldn’t rule out the possibility, though that person would have to be extremely powerful in order to… Wait, are you talking about Maul?”

“What?”

“Maul, is he manipulating you? Is he forcing you to…”

“No, how could you even- I’m talking about the Sith lord!” You shake your head in annoyance. “Remember, the one you and your council are so desperate to find?”

“You suspect he manipulated you?”

You swallow and avert your gaze, feeling fear get a hold of you when you simply think of the hooded man.

“Maybe,” you whisper, then resume with a slightly stronger voice. “I am unable to talk about him. When I do, my body forces me to stop, like he is taking control of my mind… Just thinking about him makes my skin crawl.” You shudder.

Kenobi narrows his eyes.

“For that, you’d at least have to have met him.”

“I have.”

He looks taken aback.

“That would explain it.” He pauses. “I’m not sure if anything can be done about that. We have healers at the temple but…”

“Forget it.”

He sighs.

“I’ll get back to working on the communicator.”

You just watch him while he dismantles the device further, laying out the single parts on the forest ground tidily.

It is strange - the seething hatred you were once able to feel for the man has faded into a faint dislike. He is still your adversary, of course - it is quite impossible to forget that fact since it’s how you ended up in this situation in the first place, but it feels less personal and more formal.

In a different life you may have respected him.

______

Happy holidays to everyone who celebrates something right now! I hope you're all making the best out of the current situation while staying safe and healthy! For everyone hoping for a reunion this chapter - My bad. We're not quite there yet :,) As always, comments are much appreciated (I check my inbox like twenty times a day after I post a new chapter simply because receiving them makes me so darn happy) <3

@princessayveke @spaghetti-666 @noiralei @larawl @secretnerd00 @bagpipes606 @zabrak-show @brilliantbutbatty @eleine-t1d

#darth maul #maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #darth maul x you

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living-dead-parker · 3 years

Text

Princely - IzuOchaTen

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Ochako Uraraka x Tenya Iida

Warnings: none, maybe some cussing, maybe some ooc stuff, strays from bnha and alladin canon but it’s loosely inspired. Also maybe some spelling errors (it’s 3 am for me im sorry yall lol)

Summary: Requested - Alladin AU in which Izuku is a street scoundrel and he manages to join high society, where he meets Princess Ochako and Prince Tenya.

Word Count: 2.4k

Not my gif!!

Izuku knew that this was a bit insane. When has that ever stopped him, though? No, if anything, the insanity encourages him to do things he knows that deep down he shouldn’t.

So there he stands, right in front of the palace, vibrant green eyes attempting to analyze the massive estate. Next to him stands the man with the dark-blue hair and glasses that frame his face perfectly. Izuku will not deny how handsome the man is, even if he is competing with him.

Izuku can’t help but to think back on the moment that caused this silly little competition.

“Are you sure this will work?” Izuku asks the man that stands before him. The human manifestation of the Dark Shadow that erupted from the lamp he’d rubbed just a few minutes ago. Instead, a man with black hair, deep red eyes, and the aura of a bird stood before him.

“I’m sure of it,” the man, who Izuku learned was named Fumikage, says. “You look like a prince. Say, what do you plan on doing anyway?”

Izuku offers the man a precious smile, one that’s wide and makes his eyes close from how intense his smile is. “I’m not sure!”

Fumikage nods, slightly in disbelief. Many men would take advantage of the opportunity that the man in front of him has. Nonetheless, he’s not going to be the one to tell him what to do. The day goes by with Izuku doing just about anything he can get away with, though it’s all just scouring for food and messing with a couple of people. Nothing too big or bad. However, it’s later that night that he’s being invited to a party at the palace.

He’d been mistaken -or rather acknowledged as- for a prince from a distant land. Who was he to deny the invitation? So, he gathered himself together and made the journey to the palace. A huge one, at that. He wasn’t too sure what to do with himself towards the beginning of the night.

He doesn’t know a single person there, though he wasn’t too big on having many friends. Back home, the only friends he had were other street miscreants like him. Shoto and his on-and-off-again friend Kacchan. He also had a pet bunny named Bani. Totally not because he was so uncreative with naming the precious thing. Besides them, he doesn’t really know many people, and he’s very much out of his element here.

“You’re a prince, Izuku,” he tells himself. “At least that’s what everyone thinks, so play along, idiot!” he continues. He sighs as he continues to talk himself up. “You’re a prince-”

He was caught in a trance. She had put him under her spell without even knowing it. So much so that he could almost block out the dark-haired man standing next to her, talking to her so animatedly. She seemed genuinely interested in the man, smiling and nodding at his onslaught of words. She even responded as if she was truly listening. However, she’d look up and over at the greenette every once in a while and smile at him. Her cheeks would take on a rosy tint that had Izuku melting.

Before he knew it, without thinking and before he could even stop himself, he found himself walking towards the young woman, the princess as he’d overheard. He marched right over with the confidence of a man who owned the place. To many, it might even look that way.

The dark-haired man stops speaking when he notices the greenette who’d just joined the pair. He eyes the man up and down, trying to figure out who just interrupted his moment with the princess. A moment he just knows was going so well. How dare he?

“Princess Ochako,” Izuku speaks up, grabbing hold of the young woman’s hand. He smiles as he curtsies down, bringing her hand up to his lips and pressing a soft peck to the equally, if not ever softer skin. “I’m Prince Izuku,” he continues, keeping up the facade of confidence. Where it came from? He’s not too sure, but he’s not complaining. “Pleased to meet you.”

The young princess blushes even deeper. The color could rival that of Fumikage’s eyes. However, she curtsies back respectfully before snatching her hand back, though Izuku took no offense. Instead, he straightens and leans back a bit.

“I don’t mean to come off too strong or too rude, but I have to say, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he states matter-of-factly.

Normally, Ochako can point out when someone is being overly nice because they want something from her. After all, that is one of the biggest downsides of being born into royalty. Everyone always wants something from her. Well, except her closest friend and servant, Tsu.

Nonetheless, she allowed Izuku to remain but not without having her guard up.

“Izuku, where are you from?” the man beside Princess Ochako asks suddenly, causing Izuku to stammer. How does he respond? He’s not actually a prince, and he didn’t think this through, and why did he do this?

“I’m sorry, I never caught your name,” Izuku blurts, managing to save himself.

“Prince Tenya, from the Isles.”

“Prince Tenya, a pleasure to meet you,” Izuku snides. Though, there’s no real bite to it. “Well, I’m from...Bani.”

Izuku nearly groans. Naming a bunny was too much pressure for him. How was he going to come up with a fake country on the spot? Though, he’s not doing too bad based on how Ochako doesn’t seem to question it. That is until-

“Bani?” Tenya asks. He’s giving Izuku an odd look. An expectant one too. “I’ve never heard of a place called Bani.”

“Well, it’s small,” he states, shrugging a little. “Pretty far away too,” Izuku continues. “Not many have heard of us.”

That answer seemed to be good enough for both Prince Tenya and Princess Ochako. The night seemed to pass rather quickly after that. The three stuck together for most of the night, only ever separating when they all had to socialize with others. However, the three seemed drawn to each other. It wasn’t even that the two young men were gravitating towards the Princess the whole time. More often than not, the two found themselves looking for the other, actively seeking the other out. Something about Izuku, Tenya just could not get enough of. Izuku would say he felt the same, because he did. There was just something about Tenya that drew Izuku in for the same reasons that he was drawn to Ochako.

Eventually, the night did come to an end, but not before a couple of passive statements were spewed between the two men. Ochako seemed to have enough of the joking rivalry for the night, so she offered a proposal.

“Come to the palace tomorrow. I might have a solution to all of this.”

Which brings them to now. Standing outside the palace. Looking up in the direction of the young princess’ chambers.

The two men look at each other and smirk as Princess Ochako emerges from her room once again, standing on the sturdy balcony connected to her room. There’s a smile on her face, and an energetic aura to her today. Excitement bubbles inside the young woman as she stares the two men down.

“The first one to reach my room gets to take me out,” she states over the balcony. “Simple as that.”

“Are you sure we need a silly competition like this?” Iida speaks up, his tone sounding so genuine, but to Izuku, it’s full of feist. He kina likes it if he’s being honest.

“No, not really,” Ochako states, shrugging her shoulders. “It just makes things more fun. Now,” Ochako continues as she stands up straight. She turns around. “Go.”

With that, Izuku and Tenya give each other a final look before jetting off into the palace. Giggles escape Ocahko’s lips at the sound of the two hitting the pavement as they run off. Izuku and Tenya split up once past the foyer of the palace, taking their own way towards the young woman’s room. Izuku encounters a hall, and at the end of it, after a sharp turn, is a staircase. He hides behind the corner he stands at and takes a peek.

At the end of the hall, not too far from the staircase, stand two guards. A blonde one with a black streak in his hair that resembles a lightning bolt. The other is a black-haired man. They’re both talking to each other, ignoring their surroundings. This should be easy, Izuku thinks.

Looking around him, Izuku notices that there is a chalice set on a table next to him. He smiles, grabbing the chalice and tosses it on the ground, making sure it lands with a loud clunk and rolls down the hall. The two men notice the moving object, gripping their weapons harder in their hands and charge down the hall in Izuku’s direction. When they pass him up, remaining unnoticed, he bolts down the hall and up the stairs.

Then, he’s in another hall, However, he can’t hide this time.

Unknown to the Izuku, Tenya is going through the same thing. The palace is symmetrical, so each side really is the same experience. However, Tenya seems to be a bit more diplomatic about his approach.

“Pardon, I’m looking for Princess Ochako’s room,” he states rather politely. The woman he speaks to is wearing what a maid would traditionally wear. So, he can only assume she’s a maid.

“Princess Ochako is not allowed any visitors,” the woman speaks matter-of-factly. Her tone is cold and steely. A punch to the gut. “Especially not a possible suitor of sorts,” she continues, eyeing the young man up and down. The woman turns around and begins walking away. When suddenly, he’s blasting past her, running down the way she’s headed. He passes her up, getting chased by her not too long after.

He reaches another corner and makes a turn. When he does, he notices two things. In the center of the hall stands Princess Ochako, her door open as she leans against the frame dreamily. A giggle escapes her lips once more as she takes in the sights around her. Then, at the end of the hall, standing equally winded and shocked, stands Izuku, looking him up and down as well.

Then, wordlessly the two began to run towards the door. The two clash, falling to the ground as their bodies collide. The world of pain fading into nonexistence when the sound of Ochako’s laugh fills the open space, sounding like music to their ears. It’s not long after that her laugh fills every pore on their skin, filling them with joy and now they’re laughing with her.

Laughing gut-busting laughs, the kind that leave you breathless. The kinds that make tears spring from one’s eyes. The kind that make Izuku forget that he doesn’t belong. In fact, he’s never felt like he belonged until now. Now, he feels like this is the only place he wants to be. The only thing he ever wants in life anymore. To laugh with Ochako and Tenya. To share moments like these with them. He wants it all.

“Get up, you two,” Ochako managed between laughs, leaning forward and holding a hand out to each man. The two men calm down, eyeing her carefully and then eyeing the other just as carefully. As if to test the waters and ask if all of this is truly okay.

At this point, it was clear no one was going to pick on over the other. Ochako was not going to simply pick between both of the boys and let the other one walk away with nothing. Simply because she wanted to get to know both of them. She wants to know them and experience them.

The same could be said about Izuku too. He wasn’t going to back down from fighting over Ochako, he wants to get to know her, and he wants to make her fall for him in the same way he’s already falling for her. He wants to have lived a life full of her. But at the same time, he’s found a sort of comfort in Tenya. He’s had a fire lit under his ass, and he really really likes that. He enjoys it a bit too much and he doesn’t want to lose that either. He doesn’t want to have to choose. Even if to some it may seem taboo and straight up wrong. It feels right to Izuku. He wants a life full of Tenya, too.

Tenya is a bit harder to read, but it was still clear nonetheless. He didn’t care that he had to share, because it didn’t feel that way. He’s excited to get to know the princess and he has such high hopes. But Izuku is such an exciting wrench in his plans that he doesn’t even care anymore. Ochako is excitement in the sense of sunshine and happiness. Izuku is excitement in the sense of adventure and mischief. He wants it all. He wants them both.

“Let’s get inside already,” Ochako continues as the two men reach out to her, picking themselves up with her help. They’re quick to enter her room and they nearly awe at the sight. A large table sits in the center of the room, an elaborate and extravagant looking set up. Full of tea and cake, sweet and savory foods are abundant.

The three sit at the table, digging into the delicious food and tea, not bothering to show any hint of graciousness or poise. Especially not after the morning they’ve had. Though something about that brings a sense of calm to the trio. They can let loose and be who they want to be. Not who they’re expected to be.

Ochako really doesn’t want to let go of any of this.

“Say, Izuku,” Tenya speaks up after a particularly long discussion about their countries. One which Izuku tried to stay out of as much as possible. “You’re not actually a prince, are you?”

Izuku’s eyes widen, looking between Tenya and Ochako. He notices that neither of them seems upset or even fazed by the revelation. In fact, they find it humorous.

“No,” he says, defeated. “But I promise I did not crash that party last night,” he continues. “I was actually invited.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Ochako speaks up, laughing a little at the greenette’s expression. “Though, I think this makes everything all the more exciting.”

#izuku midoriya #uraraka ochako #iida tenya #tenya lida #ochako urakara #midoriya izuku #izuku x ochako x tenya #midoriya x uraraka x iida #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha #mha #boku no hero #alladin au

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crowgale · 3 years

Text

Resident Evil 2 AU

Claire Redfield x Elza Walker

Generally the characters are the same, but with a kick of real so they aren't blank slates. Elza herself is a street-smart, confident young woman with a troubled past.

Born Elizibeth Walker in Anchorage, Alaska to parents separated before she was born, her father was an fortuitous yet endearing construction worker who took custody of her until he went missing during the construction of an Umbrella Research Facility in the Rockies during her early teens and was then sent to Connecticut to live with her mother, who was an abusive drug addict.

In her teens she developed a keen interest in motorcycles while overstudying in a library to avoid her mother and further strengthed it with part-time jobs in various mechanics. Eventually she lost hope in her father being found and her increasingly hostile mother drove her to runaway from home, using connections she developed through gangs and mechanics to move to Florida and join an amatuer racing contest in Daytona under the alias 'Elza' (Her father's nickname for her)... where she broke the track record 4 times (The first was the previous fastest lap time, she then broke her own fastest laps 3 times).

By her 18th birthday she had left her criminal ties behind and became a minor celebrity on the fast track to becoming a professional bike racer. She had sponsers ready to pay her into any university she wanted, emancipation from her mother and enough money saved up from work and victories to let her live as an independant young woman.

Elizabeth was gone. She was Elza now, and she had found her path to happiness.

By 1996 Claire had enrolled in the University of Houstan, Texas. Chris hoped she would enrol in Kansas City so she'd be closer to him but she wasn't going to be his little sister forever. She had grown up quick after their parents died... they both did.

Elza and Claire first met the week before classes started, Claire having just moved into the dorms a day before; Elza arriving like a perfect storm the next day on an customised kawasaki sports bike and a trailer full of her belongings.

Claire recognised her of course, her debut into the racing world made national headlines. So like a dork Claire was shy and tried to avoid Elza as she rode in on her Harley Davidson, after running an errand off campus.

Elza however, heard the sound of a Harley and wanted to know who owned it. She took one look at Claire in her red leather shorts, that 'Made in Heaven' jacket tied around her waist and that tight black bodysuit she had no business looking so sexy in, decided 'Yeah, I'm chilling with you!" and was having none of it.

There was, what a native of Northern Ireland like myself would call, a fresher's fair that night and like a hawk Elza seeked out the introverted Claire and started asking about her bike.

By the end of the night, Claire's shyness vanished upon realising that the seemingly untouchable queen of bikers, whose body was covered in tattoos and whose hair was as wild and untamed as the wind, was actually a massive dork. Elza however found someone who had quickly seen her and not the racing queen. The dealbreaker came when Elza asked what made her get a bike to begin with.

"Well... my brother owned a Suzuki before but... I guess I saw the film 'Akira' and that's what made me do it"

"Oh my god bitch me too!!!"

The two would then become firm friends. Elza being the misadventurous one who managed to talk Claire into actually leaving the library and give herself a break from studying; Claire being the one to get them out of trouble and keep Elza grounded. The two became a power-couple without realising, defending the other from rude people who mocked Elza for daring to be a woman racer or harassed Claire for her looks or for trying to latch onto a celebrity. It went without saying no one could harass these women if they wanted their hearing and face intact.

Things would eventually become more personal between the two. The week after New Years, Elza received news that her mother had died from a drug overdose. Although she didn't need to, Claire bought a side-car for her bike and rode her to New London for the funeral.

The service itself was tense. Elza being uncharacteristically silent and the lack of relatives worried Claire as the service ended. She never saw Elza's eyes look so cold as she gave her eulogy, which she soon realised was a stock eulogy the minister gave to those who didn't write one.

A while after she was buried in the a man approached Elza in the cemetary, introduced himself as her mother's dealer and decided that since she was a famous racer her mother's debt would pass on to Elza and that she would pay him else there would be cpnsequences; it goes without saying she refused to pay off the debt and apathetically asked him to leave.

Claire was on him like a wolf the moment he slapped her and was ready to kill him when he started to threaten her with a knife.

She very nearly did.

They left New London that evening amidst a police BOLO for a woman with auburn hair seen kicking the living shit out of a man in a graveyard. They made it to Kent Island before a blizzard rolled in and they had to say at an inn along the Chesepeake Bay.

That night Claire meant to apologise for her actions, stating she saw her get hit and just... reacted. But Elza pulled her into a tight hug and finally released her pent up emotions. She told Claire about her fathers disappearance, about the years of torment at her mothers hands, that this wasn't the first time something like this happened, that she doesn't understand why she's crying if she hated her mother so much and how much it hurt to remember all those terrrible things and have someone make her feel like that scared little girl again.

Claire, feeling her best friend shake in her arms, doesn't know what to say. She's silent for a time as Elza holds onto her like a lifeline, as if letting go would make her fall off the Earth itself. She finally tells Elza that she isn't that little girl anymore.

"You are Elza Walker! Yhe Woman who can never be slowed! You're unreachable! Unstoppable! And no one will ever hurt you again!... I... don't want to see you hurt again"

Elza didn't speak for a while after that... but eventually she did and what she said broke Claire.

"I've wished for someone like you my whole life Claire"

Life returned to normal soon after that. One tournament race was enough to bring Elza Walker roaring back to life and with a vengeance. She was faster, she was braver, her smile after each weekly victory able to light up the world... or at least Claire's, who now made it a point to go to every race, or at least watch it on TV if the race was in a city too far out of reach.

Elza knew Claire was watching her... she figured that's why she was doing better now.

Spring came and went, the summer exams now already a fading memory to the pair, but foreshadowed by Claire losing her part-time job and being unable to find another one. With no means to pay for her student fees it looked like she would be forced to drop-out.

But Elza wouldn't have any of it.

"I know how you can pay off your fees. A guy in my pit crew retired a month ago and I've been short two hands ever since. It's hard work but the pays good and if I make pro next month it'll be even better"; she said idly at a bar one evening.

"You... you want me in your pit crew?"; Claire asked incredulously.

"No, I want you as my personal pitbabe so I can drool at you in a tight spandex jumpsuit looking all cute with dirt on your face"; Elza said with a lop-sided smile.

"Ha!"

"Hm... seriously Claire, I want you there with me. I can't imagine anyone better to look after me on the track"; Elza said confidently.

"...You do take way too many risks"; Claire mused, before Elza held her cheek in her hands.

"You told me once that I am the woman who can never be slowed... well Redfield, I'd slow down for you!"

Elza's manager might have called her decision to hire Claire personally driven and entirely unprofessional. However, Claire proved herself highly compotent within a week of employment, being able to keep up with the repairs, adjustments and tyre changes her job demanded.

It was also found that Elza actually listened to Claire whenever she was pushing her luck, which turned out to be a blessing in the final race of the season in San Francesco. Her main rival who was tied for 1st with Elza didn't want to lose to a woman, and in the final 3 laps had begun making poor judgement calls to try and keep up with her. Risky overtakes, tight cornering and high speed was equally met, and soon Elza found herself in a dogfight she refused to lose.

If Claire hadn't screamed at her to brake before the last corner, she would have been thrown off her bike with her rival after an attemped inside lane overtake resulted in them losing control of the bike and wiping out.

Elza won of course, making it into the professional league. It was a dream come true. At no point after she took off her helmet and locked teary eyes with Claire could she make any expression that wasn't a bashful smile or tears of joy. It also seemed like she couldn't stop looking at Claire during the victory reception or later that night on the train ride home... where she had too much to drink, leaving Claire having to help Elza meander into the sleeping car after the 8th Buttery Nipple.

She helped her move herself onto the bed, but Elza didn't let go of her hand. Instead she brought her hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles and held it to her cheek as she openly wept.

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the-darklings · 5 years

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—𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈;

pairing: quentin beck x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: "I’m whatever you want me to be Mr Beck."

warnings: manipulation (of other people), love/hate-rivals relationship, swearing.

notes: Oh man, here we go again!! So this fic is set pre-FFH so no spoilers for the plot of that movie, except Quentin’s past occupation/characterisation.

“unbecoming” mini-series: . . | 02 |

Life was a monopoly of good luck and bad luck.

Which side you landed on depended entirely on you.

That was the first thing he taught you.

And the last thing you taught him.

. . .

“Are you nervous?”

“No.”

Your new supervisor—a man in his late forties, already balding, and clearly cheating on his wife if the way he was keenly eyeing the female employees was any indication—looked up at you with something close to surprise.

“Confident, huh?” he guessed—incorrectly, but you weren’t rude enough to correct him and first impressions matter—rubbing his chin, and grunting under the weight of the safety manuals he was carrying. You had offered to help but pride stopped him from accepting. “Mr Stark mentioned something about that.”

Oh, you bet he did.

“May I ask a question, sir?” you wondered quietly, your words gentle, placid.

The man straightened, and you had to bite back a disgusted grimace at the way he peered at you openly, affected by the mild speech pattern. Too easy.

“Of course, of course,” he said immediately, expression open, “It’s your first day after all. Mr Stark said to give you a full tour.”

“I feel so terrible even asking. But why this division?” you questioned with a well practised awkward laugh, fiddling with your fingers. “I was under the impression that I will be working directly under Mr Stark?”

“Ah, well,” the man began, clearing his throat and you watched him closely from under your lashes. Awkward, fumbling for words—likely for an explanation that would not offend. Hmm. “The Visionary program is the one Mr Stark personally oversees. Teams of the brightest people on this side of the continent gather to build something amazing together. Each year there’s a demo presentation, and Mr Stark picks the next lead project himself. It’s a huge honour and every engineer and developer hopes to end up getting the lead project one day. Of course, it’s something highly coveted due to the scale of attention and funding the lead project gets.”

And that was that.

Idiot. But maybe smarter than you first gave him credit for. It was harder to answer a question without giving a proper answer than it seemed. Your eyes shifted to the man, confused, lost, and he faltered upon seeing your expression.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you told him politely, nibbling on your lip. “I don’t think I really understand what that has to do with me? I’m sorry if I’m being somehow rude—”

“Nonsense,” he cut you off hurriedly, and you took another left, moving deeper and deeper into the building. “It’s just...the team you will be working on shows a lot of potential, but it’s a rather, ah, challenging project to work on, shall we say? Mr Stark believes that placing you with this team for your trial period will give you invaluable experience. Experience that—one day soon—you may even use to run your own team.”

A challenging project, huh?

Interesting.

. . .

You didn’t expect a team of only three people.

Two males and a female.

The woman introduced herself first. Victoria, but call me Vic for short; stern-faced and polite, sporting a pair of guarded eyes and stiff shoulders. The man to introduce himself next was the exact opposite, overly cheerful and open. The type that people liked because he reminded them of golden retrievers with their too friendly, too good nature. His name was Daniel—Dan for short, please; and wasn’t that just adorable?

The last man—the man behind the project and the invention—was called Quentin Beck.

He, unlike the other two, didn’t introduce himself, his eyes glued to the tablet in his hands as he frowned minutely at the screen. He sat hunched over it, seemingly in another world, and from the dim light of the room you couldn’t see more than his profile.

The supervisor called him by name once, twice, making even your two new colleagues exchange looks before Beck finally tore his gaze away, standing to his feet at last.

He moved oddly—smooth, practised—but something from the moment he stood up, to the moment he came to stand before you made something inside you spring to attention.

Most humans walked; hunched, straight, that didn’t matter.

Others strutted; arrogant, conceited, believing that they were the gravity holding everything together whenever they moved.

Many shuffled: awkward, misplaced, seeking comfort in a world that wasn’t going to provide them with any.

Quentin Beck did none of those things.

Quentin Beck prowled like a storm, a dangerous thing, across the room, his gaze a chasm.

Oh, something hummed inside you.

Hello.

. . .

Few things became apparent quickly.

One, Daniel liked to overshare to a startling, almost worrying, degree.

Within the first hour of knowing him, you already had far too much information on him that you still tucked away inside your mind. It was little pieces that make the big picture, and getting the little details mattered.

Daniel was indeed a golden retriever. He lived by himself, loved basketball, Mexican food, reading and taking hikes. He even had a dog, and—admittedly—it was very hard to control your laughter at that one. He sounded like a bad dating website ad but you weren’t going to tell him that.

Two, Victoria was quieter, more observative, though Daniel still managed to let it slip how she lived with her girlfriend and a cat not too far from the Stark Industries.

“A cat and a dog person,” Daniel said with a cheery laugh and a dimpled smile, “As you can imagine, we get on brilliantly.”

Victoria rolled her eyes and you laughed too, adding just the right amount of warmth into your voice.

“I sure can.”

However, the one person you wanted to learn more about—the whole point of this tedious process, according to your supervisor—was mostly quiet.

Sure, he made a comment or two now and again, adding only the bare minimum to the conversation, as well as an occasional hum of agreement or disagreement when a point was raised. But his mind and gaze never wandered far from the tablet in his hand. His entire focus was on it and whatever he was working on.

If anything, the slight downward slant of his mouth and the rigidness of his shoulders told you he was more annoyed about wasting time on this exchange of pleasantries. The dark shirt he wore made him blend into the darkness of the lab, and from this angle, he appeared both taller and gaunter. Ungodly.

“Maybe we can get started?” you wondered, keeping your voice neutral, “I would hate to take up any more of Mr Beck’s valuable time with our chatter. I think we’re boring him.”

His eyes locked with yours, and the glow of multiple computer screens surrounding him made them glow, accenting the rich blue of his irises. His mouth curled into a smile—a charming, polite thing that he had surely used a thousand times to offset the hard, glacial look in his eyes.

Assessing. Demanding. Judging.

You had a hard time controlling your knowing smirk.

. . .

“Holographic illusions,” you stated slowly, dryly. “When the old man said a challenging project, I didn’t now that what he really meant was a dead project.”

Daniel fell silent mid explanation, and even Victoria’s eyes flew to you like what you said was the most horrifying thing she had ever heard.

“Care to elaborate?”

His voice was calm; low, and perpetually pleasant to listen to. You imagined all the times he must have used it to his advantage—surely many, only a fool won’t.

You stood next to the whiteboard delineating the invention proposal, calculations, technological advancements as well as details of the first two prototypes. Predictably both failures. It wouldn’t be presumptuous to assume that prototype number 3 was hardly faring any better.

“Human brain is perceptive,” you told him with equal calm in your voice, meeting his blank stare. “It adapts with startling efficiency. The five senses alone are difficult to fool. Once the mind is exposed to something and deems it unsafe, or in any way unsettling, it rebels. Not to mention that this technology relies far too heavily on sight alone. What if I closed my eyes? How effective will this little light show be then?”

Daniel sucked in an audible breath and Victoria’s almond eyes slowly slid towards the very still Beck. The man observed you shrewdly, silent—and was that a spark of annoyance? Anger?

“Fear,” he stated, a touch colder, rising from his seat behind the table and closing the distance to you. “Wonder. Confusion. Human minds are weak and susceptible to a shift in the natural—safe—order of things. The subject can be aware it’s an illusion, but if the illusion is strong enough to hold them, then the inherent sense of fear will take over. Panic shuts down logic and major motor functions rather quickly. What does that leave us with then, you may ask? Well, it leaves us with a subject that will believe whatever I want them to believe.”

He halted before you, and your head tilted upwards to meet his stare with a slight, benign smile, “Ah, yes. I’m sure Mr Stark will be willing to invest millions into technology that will traumatize people. After all, if I was him, that’s what I would want my company to be known for.”

Something flashed across his gaze then—something dark, something burning—and he leaned back with an easy grin. It transformed his face, only dialling the handsomeness to something near blinding.

“That’s why it’s a prototype, honey,” he pointed out simply, a touch mocking before he turned to Daniel and Victoria, waving his hand in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry, you two. By the time we’re done, the technology will be safe and people will be able to use it without side effects. That’s a promise.”

Holding back a snort, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Unlikely,” you insisted quietly, and Beck glanced back at you, still grinning.

You returned his smile, practically beaming, and it felt like two predators baring their teeth at each other in greeting, in warning.

Hello to you too, the sharpness seemed to whisper.

. . .

The first week was a whirlwind.

You absorbed all the new surroundings and information around you like a sponge. Through gritted teeth and clenched fists, you greeted everyone you came into contact with. It was a tedious affair, and both emotionally and physically taxing, but you had to be seen—had to be presented in everyone's’ minds as a pragmatic, friendly person.

Reputation was everything. One had to guard it with their life if they wanted to achieve anything in this world. Being liked, respected, opened all the doors. Or at least, the majority of them.

Your work kept you busy too.

Beck gave you two days to get acquainted with all the data collected through the project’s lifespan so far as well as the progress of the new prototype.

You finished it in under 12 hours.

He didn’t believe you.

Every question he asked—examining you like one would a bug under a microscope—was met with a flat, slightly bored answer.

“Just to be clear,” you told him, straightforward and unblinking, but smile unfading, “I think you’re wasting your time. I’ve read the briefs, I’ve seen what you’ve done with the technology you have. It’s impressive work, and you’re smart. Yet you’re wasting your time on...this. Even if you could get it to work—”

“I know it may be hard for you to understand,” he interrupted, his voice smooth, but his gaze harsh. He blinked once, expression smoothing, and you knew it was only because Daniel slipped back into the lab after lunch, shuffling back to his spot with an awkward grin in your direction. “But this is my life’s work. You don’t make history by doing something just anyone can. You see, life is a monopoly of good luck and bad luck. You choose which side you land on. I intend to land on the good side by doing something no one has done before.”

“Are you trying to tell me that the outcome of your life is a coin flip?” you repeated slowly, disbelief colouring your tone before you let out a sharp bark of laughter. “That’s complete horseshit.”

“Not if you control the flip,” he argued, but he almost—almost—looked amused. “Not if you know exactly how to throw, turn and drop the coin. Not if you control all the variables.”

“So,” you drawled, spinning in your chair, and cutting a sly look his way, “What you’re saying is that you’re a control freak.”

You expected him to get angry—expected him to let that little something lurking behind his carefully constructed charming demeanour crack and force its way through.

He didn’t.

He only gave you a contemplative, knowing look, “Aren’t we all?”

That, damn him, made you laugh genuinely for the first time that week.

. . .

Quentin Beck was most certainly a control freak.

There was no denying it.

He didn’t let Daniel or Victoria anywhere near his prototype. He allowed them to run and compile test data but he spent all of his time working on the improvements himself. Calculations, tests adjustments; everything was under his careful consideration.

Daniel and Victoria were only used as glorified secretaries.

It was interesting but not surprising to see. You had met both men and women like him before. People who respected and valued their work too much to allow for any mistakes. When it’s your life’s work, you don’t leave anything up to chance. If you make a mistake, then it’s your mistake to make. It was about precaution as much as it was about arrogance. Usually. With Beck though…

“Hey, we’re finished,” Daniel said happily, glancing at his watch and already rising to his feet. “I love you guys, I really do, but I can’t wait to enjoy my weekend. Any plans? Vic? (Name)?”

“We have a dinner planned tomorrow,” Victoria replied reluctantly, but a small smile twitched her mouth, telling you just how much she was actually looking forward to it. “Salma wants to try that new Thai place on the 46th.”

“I heard pretty good things,” Daniel replied with a nod, his eyes flickered to you and you stretched, leaning back in your seat. “How about you? Any dates you’ll be going on this weekend?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, turning another page between your fingers, “I have a date set with a pound of cocaine.”

Daniel stared at you blankly before bursting out laughing, the loud boom of his sniggering almost making you cringe.

“Man, you’re too funny.”

Not really.

You held your thoughts to yourself though. People didn’t like it when you disagreed with them, especially when they were trying to pay you a compliment. It implied that not only you didn’t value their opinion but also shot own their attempt at being nice.

Victoria too was looking at Daniel like he’d sprouted another head and was having a hard time holding back her own laughter.

“Well come on then I’ll walk—”

“(Name) is not done yet.”

Ah yes.

Daniel’s mouth clamped shut, green eyes finally moving towards previously silent Beck. He sat leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and the faintest glimmer of a challenging smirk across his face.

If last week had proved anything to you, it was that Quentin Beck didn’t like his authority questioned. Ever. You made your opinion on his project clear from day one and it hadn’t gotten any better since.

Beck started out with giving you menial tasks like he did with Victoria and Daniel. But suffice to say, he learned very quickly that they weren’t very adequate at keeping you occupied for long. The faster you finished your duties, the more work he had for you—effectively involving you in his project more than he probably wanted.

Prideful, deceitful man; a man with a thousand faces but none of them genuine.

But he was a clever one too.

Irritatingly so. Conversations with him were as blood boiling as they were mentally stimulating.

Then again, you refused to let him step over you, meeting him tic-for-tac every step of the way with no intention of letting up.

It made him angry—someone questioning and picking apart his ideas and proposals, you could tell. Not that it mattered. You were part of this team. That meant you would see it succeed because you needed to succeed—it was as simple as that. If Beck didn’t listen, you would make him listen. Show him that you could contribute to his project.

“Yes,” you agreed pleasantly, adding a touch of sadness into your slight smile, “I want to finish this tonight. You guys go ahead and have a great weekend. I’ll be seeing you both on Monday. Please give Charlie a kiss for me, will you?”

Victoria nodded—a little stiffly—peering at Beck with a slight frown.

Clearly, the mention of her cat didn’t do much to ease the situation like you hoped.

“C’mon, Vic, we better stop taking up valuable time,” Daniel stated, and you smiled wider at him, encouraging, “Don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

He directed those words only at you in such an obvious manner, you almost groaned. Idiot.

“Sure, thanks, I really appreciate the concern.”

They took their time leaving though, both lingering on different things: Daniel on you, and Victoria on Beck—though unlike Daniel who stared at you warmly—she was giving Beck a cold look.

The silence their absence left wasn’t awkward. If anything, the room seemed to lighten with neither of you looking at each other.

“I was wrong,” you hummed at last, thoughtful, your eyes snagging on a ceiling tile and staying there. “That doesn’t happen often.”

You could practically feel Beck debating whether he should rise to the bait or not.

“About?” was his eventual, uninterested response.

A slow smile stretched your mouth into something devious, “About you, of course.”

And just like that, you felt the weight of his expectant, hard gaze focus on you.

“Oh?” he questioned slowly. “How so?”

Your head turned to him and you stared at each other for a long moment, seizing each other up. It was interesting to be alone with him and see his meticulous construct of charm and control starting to crack.

“I thought it was arrogance,” you offered after another stretch of silence, watching the way his eyebrows drew together briefly. “At first, that is. Now, I know it’s not about your arrogance but rather the fact that you think they’re incompetent.”

His expression remained eerily blank, not giving anything away as he examined you from across the room.

“You don’t really think I didn’t notice how you never allow them to do much of anything around here, right? Not to say you’re aren’t arrogant—you most certainly are—but you primarily don’t trust them to do their jobs well enough. The reason why this team only has three people—now four, of course—is due to the nature of your project and because you make it impossible for people to perform well. All the credit for the invention will go solely to you. Smart. But you’re also isolating yourself. Less smart.”

“I resent your implication—”

You snorted loudly, cutting him off, and even from this distance you could see the way his jaw clenched tightly, irked, gaze hooded.

Idly, you wondered how much longer his act was going to last for.

“I’m sure you do,” you told him flatly, your eyebrows jumping up in amusement. “You do realise that you’re cutting yourself off from valuable sources of information and useful workforce, right? You can get much further in life with a smile on your face than a command. They don’t need to be your friends. In fact, I hope they’re not. Your friends always betray you first because envy comes easily to them. Your enemies though...use them. Pretend if you must. You manage with me, and look how quickly we got through this test data. I read the old reports, it usually takes you a week. We did it in two days.”

A breath; strained and short, and then, "What are you?"

A slight, sweet smile graced your face as you gazed up at him, "I'm whatever you want me to be Mr Beck."

You rose up without another word, feeling the intent—almost physical—weight that was his regard on you as you gathered up your things.

“You’re not done yet,” his words were quiet, soft.

Your steps drew to a halt right outside the door, your hand on the metal handle and you sighed, almost disappointed he hadn’t noticed.

“Actually, I finished an hour ago,” you told him blandly, pushing on the door. “I just wanted to stay behind for a little chat.”

You glanced over your shoulder—just to see his reaction—and what you saw made you pause.

Sometimes you run into people and they’re like the sun; shining and blazing brighter than anyone else in the room, warming you with their presence.

Then, there were people like Quentin Beck. People who had ice running through they veins; people with cold eyes and wicked intentions, no matter how carefully hidden behind a mask of normalcy.

The thing staring at you now with a sly curl of his mouth was only just human.

There was no false charm, no carefully measured smiles or stilted compliments, there was just him and you and the empty space between you.

“Hello, Quentin Beck,” you greeted coolly, knowingly, and watched the way his grin widened dangerously. “Nice to finally meet you.”

. . .

an: these two are absolutely feral and the only way from here is up ayyy

Truthfully, I wrote Reader this way because I don’t see enough opportunist/cutthroat Reader stories around. I know this may not be everyone’s cup of tea but ahhh I still hope you liked it <33 Buckle up, I have some pretty interesting things planned for this one~~

#quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #marvel #mysterio x reader #jake gyllenhaal #marvel imagine #marvel fic #spiderman far from home #spiderman #mysterio #fic: unbecoming series

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hey-hamlet · 5 years

Text

BNHA AU Ideas : Songbird

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:

Izuku has a powerful quirk: he can give powers to the people around him based on the different songs he sings. Unfortunately, everyone else really wants that quirk and are willing to kidnap him to get it.

Songbird is an au where Izuku has a quirk that gives a powerup/debuff to anyone that hears what he's singing! The effect depends on the song, or rather, what the song means to him.

He's been kidnapped a lot.

It came in when Izuku was like, 4? The normal time for a quirk to come in. Bakugo thought it was pretty cool, if not as cool as his.

Izuku's favourite powerup at the time was the Mario theme because it gives everyone a jump boost. So we have this little kid enthusiastically shouting the Mario theme as a small pile of kids jump around like maniacs.

Very stressful for all parents involved.

Anyway, the way his quirk works:

With some serious concentration, he can stop it working on specific people around him, but it always affects himself. Trying to limit it's spread for too long will make him pass out.

The shorter the song naturally is, the stronger the effect. His quirk works through speaker and coms but not through pre-recorded audio.

The effects can be really specific and strange, for example, 'Stronger Than You' gives a powerup to two people fighting together that care for each other. 'Radioactive', well, it literally irradiates the people around him and himself. 100% not a song he's allowed to sing.

Each song only works once per day, for the duration of the song. If accidentally, or intentionally, sings the song in a way that stops it from ending, the effect will slowly fade out.

the more a particular song has been used on you / the better you know the song, the better it works on you and the easier it is to control

Anyway, villains quickly get word of this kid running around with a powerful and versatile support quirk. Support quirks aren't super common, and one that works in so many different ways is super valuable. So, they start kidnapping the poor guy.

Obviously getting kidnapped is pretty traumatising for Izuku. It's not super great for Bakugo either, who watched his friend get stuffed into the back of a van by a small pile of villains. He gets saved by All Might. The two kids still have nightmares.

Eventually, he gets kidnapped so many random times each individual attempt is nothing to write home about. He and Bakugo become kind of blasé about the whole thing.

"Midoriya, why didn't you do your homework?"

"He got kidnapped, teach."

Izuku, bleeding sluggishly from a headwound. "Yeah, got kidnapped."

He and Bakugo are going to be heroes. They kind of end up the top dogs of the school, Izuku without meaning it, Bakugo 100% intending for that to happen. They train more than is probably healthy, because at this point it's not just good practise, it's in their best interest in an attempt to ward off more kidnappings.

Izuku has met All Might a depressing number of times, almost always getting saved from the kidnapping of the week. Bakugo is the only person Izuku lets see how all of these kidnappings are effecting him, everyone else just views it as kind of funny that this kid is so chill with getting taken so often.

He's really not, but heroes smile when they're scared, right?

Even if other villains fail, his quirk is just so useful its worth it to give it a go. He can turn a ragtag team of unfit losers into a force to rival pros with the right song choice. Plus, his involvement in all the kidnappings is suppressed for his own safety, so he's never on the news.

Oh yeah, the plan B for the USJ was take Izuku and run.

Aizawa knows about the kid that gets constantly kidnapped, but he doesn't know who it is. At the USJ, Shigiraki creepily calls out 'Hey Songbird!' and he has around 8 'oh shit' moments all at once. Izuku just wants to cry out of frustration.

The only reasons All for One hasn't stolen Izuku's quirk at this point is that All Might constantly rescuing the poor kid is both good entertainment and a good way to get him in one spot. Also he just finds this whole mess kind of funny.

His quirk only works when he's singing, but there is nothing stopping him from singing the tune to classical music! His quirk tends to work better with an instrumental or other people singing along. General power-ups are too risky to use with villains nearby, so it's mostly for disaster work.

None of his songs work on Nomu or people who can't hear (either by blocking their ears or being deaf)

Songbird Izuku kinda gives off a nice but chill air, a lot of people are afraid to talk to him because he's typically pretty popular. Inside he's just as, if not more, anxious than canon Izuku, he's just gotten pretty good at hiding it.

Regarding OFA, All Might considers giving it to him, but doesn't, mostly because he realised Izuku can't say no. It's not fair of him to ask something so big of someone who, because of the position he's been placed in, can't turn you down. He is pretty close with the Midoriya family though and comes over for dinner a lot.

The UA entrance exam is wild. Izuku kicks butt in the written, goes to thank Uraraka for helping him before but Iida stops him. Izukus externally like "Dude, you don't know me. Please calm down." internally he's like "I'M SORRY PLEASE DONT EVEN LOOK AT ME OR ILL DIE".

The announcement rings. He takes a deep breath and starts to sing, taking off after the other students.

First song up is 'Victorious'. It's both a confidence booster and a mild strength boost. He really just needs the confidence at this point. (In the distance, a purple-haired boy who was worried about the exam gets a pep in his step. He tries a little harder.)

Next up is 'Whatever it Takes', a strength and speed up based off the amount of adrenalin currently in your system. Izuku, who is constantly stressed, gets a big boost from this song. He ends up with around 28 villain points by the song, but punching robots with bare skin isn't good for your knuckles.

The 0 pointer appears and he's ready to just leave it behind until he sees the person trapped in its path. No matter how scared he is, no matter how badly he wants to go to UA, he can't leave her there.

He grits his teeth, and starts 'Get Back Up Again'. His quirk is honestly starting to run low, it's not meant to be used back to back to back like this. Still, 'Get Back Up Again' does it's job, temporarily powering up the quirks of those who can hear it. While he just wants it for Uraraka, so she can lift the rock off her legs, it works on him too.

The effects of the songs linger after they complete.

He helps Uraraka free herself from the rock and starts 'What's Up Danger'. Normally its not the strongest, but with the power up, the effects are impressive. The song itself grants luck and skill in equal measure. Normally it's hard to notice, but here it allows him to throw himself up the zero pointer until he reaches the fuse box, pulls out all of the important wires without getting zapped to high heaven, and somehow have stopped the robot in its tracks.

Unfortunately, songs end. His luck doesn't last long enough to give him a safe landing.

But Uraraka was watching him, and she can, stopping him just before he hits the ground. The buzzer goes off a second later and they collapse together, laughing hysterically and trying not to throw up everywhere. Everyone in the area looks a little shell shocked at what they just saw.

All Might looks on from with the other teachers and cheers for the boy he's seen grow from a scared kid to a determined young man. Aizawa is 100% confused and annoyed at this blatant favouritism.

He could write songs, but the catch is his quirk works with the emotions he has towards the song and his automatic reaction to it. There is a big chance that if he wrote them himself, each song would have the same effect as the other.

Please consider though, a classmate like Jirou writing him a song. That song would probably give a strong healing effect / widespread warm and fuzzy feelings.

A few fun ones:

Duel commandments from Hamilton should let you shoot air bullets

This is Halloween: i lowkey want it to be that people transform into their costumes, or something simple like it makes people glow like jack o lanterns

The Cha Cha Slide: its something he only does for fun, because it also forces him (and everyone else in the area) to do the cha cha slide

Thunder by imagine dragons electrifies everyone who hears it, so please consider a small swarm of zappy children

Upgrade from BMC gives your quirk an ‘upgrade’ or mutation.

Hey Little Songbird from Hadestown causes earth to creep up the legs of anyone who hears it. It can’t be shaken off.

Deviltown by cavetown causes the temperature around to drop dramatically. Again, if you can’t hear the song, the temperature feels normal for you.

#bnha au #songbird au #midoriya izuku #Midoriya #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #All Might #aizawa shouta #yagi toshinori #uraraka ochako #uraraka #izuku #katsuki

191 notes · View notes

liliah39 · 5 years

Note

Hi darling! I saw you want to write some little fics about the boys, so, could you write a fic with Roger in which he finds the reader talking to other guy and gets jealous? * Jealousy plays in the background *

My Other Half (Roger Taylor X Reader One Shot)

Full Ask/Plot: Hi darling! I saw you want to write some little fics about the boys, so, could you write a fic with Roger in which he finds the reader talking to other guy and gets jealous? * Jealousy plays in the background * I was thinking about Rog and the reader being steady for a while, so he is thinking of proposing to her, but one day he sees her (at a diner or a shop, maybe?) talking to this other guy and gets more than jealous, he feels really bad about it? I guess this is going to turn out a little angsty 😅

Word Count: 7.2 K (its even lengthier than the last!)

Warnings: None really, mentions of sex. Swearing. Some angst. Thats it!

January of 1977, interview with the boys in Chicago while on tour:

“So Roger,” The interviewer asked. “We understand your girlfriend Y/N has been in the news a lot lately. What’s your life and relationship with her like?”

“Well she’s not my girlfriend,” Roger nervously laughed.

“She’s not?”

“Well if I may interject,” Freddie said. “She basically is his girlfriend, they’re just an odd bunch who says “oh we’re not dating, she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just in a relationship.”

“Fred,” Roger blushed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I must say he’s quite in love with her. They’re really the perfect couple.” John said.

“Yeah we love Y/N,” Brian started. “The two of them are pretty much inseparable. They’re a package deal, you can’t have Roger without her. I’m not quite sure why they don’t ever say they’re dating. Maybe it’s because they’ve been friends for so long? They’re great though.”

The interviewer laughed. “So, Roger. What is Y/N like?”

He smiled when he thought of you. “She’s the definition of the word rock star other than the whole being in a band thing. Plays guitar sometimes though.” It was visible to anyone watching him that his head was in the clouds. “We’ve been best friends since college, and then our relationship kind of just blossomed from there. You know; people always say opposites attract but-” Freddie cut him off.

“Oh not with them, Darling! I swear they’re the same person sometimes.”

Roger laughed at his friends comment. “Yeah, that’s what I was getting at. I mean we just always have fun together. Of course we have our quiet moments too, but we just really get each other; rarely fight. Always have a good time.”

“She’s the most wanted model in England right now, let alone the whole world. How does that make you feel?”

Roger smirked. “Well she ‘ain’t a model yet, mate.”

“Yeah, but I mean you two did that photo shoot together, and then all of a sudden everyone knew her name. Why hasn’t she taken any of those modeling deals?”

“Oh I don’t know, but she has an interview back home in a couple days. I don’t want to speak for her or anything, you know. I’ll let her say.”

“Then what made you do that photo shoot?”

Roger laughed. “Well I think any guy can understand where I’m coming from there, mate. If you’re a rock star and you’ve gotta do a solo photo shoot for your new song, (which I didn’t want to do, may I add) and you’ve got a hot significant other, you have her do the shoot with you. Plain and simple.” Everyone laughed at his blatantly honest statement, and the interviewer continued asking the rest of the band questions.

After the interview, the guys were in their shared dressing room, Roger fixing his hair at the mirror and Freddie and Brian gushing over pictures of John’s baby who just learned to walk.

“Guys,” Roger started with a clear of his throat.

They all turned up to look at him; it was obvious he was stressed about something. “Well you all know, uh. Y/N left to go back home the other day, and tonight is our second to last show in the states, and in like five days we go home, and do one more show in London to end our this tour, you know?” He was clearly sweating, scratching the back of his neck as he talked around what he was trying to get at.

Deaky nodded confused, Freddie said “Yup?”

“We know our schedule, Rog. What’re you trying to say?” Brian encouraged.

“If it makes you feel any better, I miss Veronica too, even though you saw Y/N two days ago and I haven’t seen my wife or children for four months, but yeah, I get it.” Deaky added.

“No, no. I um, uh-” Roger could barely form words. He covered his smile with his mouth as he looked down blushing. Unable to get out what he was trying to say, he unzipped the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a small black box. “I’m gonna do it.” He laughed, opening it to reveal a huge pear shaped engagement ring. “I’m gonna ask her to marry me!” He smiled, his friends congratulating him with a huge hug.

“Wow, you really went all in for that ring, didn’t you, Rog?” Brian asked.

“Yeah, bought it on Rodeo Drive when we were in California at Cartier. You know how she is, the bigger the better. Had to impress my girl.” he gushed.

“Well I’m so happy for you, Rog. She’ll definitely say yes. I see the way she looks at you.” John added.

“Of course she will!” Freddie exclaimed. “Though I must say; I expected Brian to be the next to get married. Honestly thought you’d be the last. You just have that free attitude. I mean, you’re only 27, Darling.”

“I know, I know. I thought the same thing. But I’m just so happy. I never want to lose her. I know we’re young. We’re both free spirits, but together we ground each other. It’s just one of those things that works, you know?”

“When you know you know.”

On the way back to the hotel room Roger couldn’t stop smiling, his years with you replaying in his head, going all the way back to the day you two met.

~~~~

It was an intro to dentistry class, only the second day of freshman year, and all the seats were filled in the lecture hall except for the one next to Roger. He knew everyone had been there the day before, so tried to figure out who was missing. Suddenly, you burst into class clad in your rock star aesthetic, popping your bubblegum ever so confidently, as you said, “Sorry I’m late,” to the professor.

“You know, Miss...” He started.

“Y/L/N”

“Miss Y/L/N, if you were here maybe you’d know that chewing gum isn’t good for your teeth.”

“Well Professor,” you started, noticing the teacup on his desk as you walked to the only open seat near the back. “Neither is tea; it stains them. Yet we all drink it anyways.” You smirked, plopping in the only free seat next to the wide eyed blonde boy. You relaxed back in your chair and put your feet up on the chair in front of you, red heels popping out of your black leather pants which you paired with a black leather jacket, some layered necklaces and a Led Zeppelin shirt.

Roger was absolutely smitten. He loved your attitude. Finally, he thought, someone to rival him. Someone equal to his level of strong headed-ness. Then he noticed what you were wearing. He almost wore the same bloody thing. He had on his black leather trousers, red converse, a Led Zeppelin shirt (thank god it wasn’t the same one you had on), his gold layered necklaces and black leather jacket. You were missing the sunglasses though. Was he looking at an alternate version of himself?

“Hello, Love. I’m Roger.” He smirked.

“Hi,” you smirked back, noticing how attractive he was. “I’m Y/N”

“Not gonna compliment my outfit?”

“Huh?” You asked, confused.

“Look at your outfit, Love. Now look at mine. See any coincidence?”

“Oh!” You laughed. “God, what’re the odds.”

It was silent for a couple minutes until you let out a groan of exhaustion. “I don’t want to be here, my parents are making me go to school to be a bloody dentist. I just want to go home and get ready for tonight.”

“Same thing is going through my mind, Love. I’ve got a gig tonight.”

“Oh really? I love music. What do you play?”

“Drums and sing a bit too.” He proudly smiled.

“That’s great. Wish I played something.”

“I can teach you,” he encouraged.

“I think I’d like that very much.” You smiled. “Where are playing later?”

“Imperial hall. You-“

You cut him off. “Really? You must be joking. You’re in Smile?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s why I was saying I wanted to go get ready for tonight! I’m going to your gig!”

“What are the odds?” He mimicked, making you giggle. “Hey, I’ll make sure you get a front row seat. Really, I mean it. I know how crazy those can get.”

“Thanks.” You smiled as he put a strand of hair behind your ear.

After class he called, “Hey, Y/N! I can't help but want to get to know you better. Do you want to go grab a coffee or something?”

“I’d love to, but I’ve gotta say I’m more of a whiskey girl than I am coffee.”

God, she’s perfect. He thought.

“Then the bar down the street it is.” Roger smiled.

Your relationship didn’t turn romantic after that for a couple years, you and Roger were just the inseparable friends who spent at least two hours together every day, and everyone thought were twins because of how similar you were. You always flirted and held hands, but kept it platonic until about a year after Queen had formed.

You and Roger were living together as friends, and one night after a Queen gig got wasted playing truth or dare with Freddie and the rest of the band. You had on a tight, revealing red dress. Knowing you could never pass up the riskiest of questions, Freddie said,

“Alright. We’ve been playing classic truth or dare for a while now. It’s time to spice it up. Who here is brave enough to do a truth and a dare that are connected at the same time?”

“Me! I’ll do it!” You burst up, making the four of them laugh.

“Alright, Darling. I was hoping you’d chose to participate.” Freddie was trying to get you and Roger together. “Of the four of us, choose who you like the most and want to be in a relationship with the most, straddle them and make out with them for a full minute, and then tell us the truth of why you chose them.”

“Deal.” You rose from your chair, gaze shifting between the four of them. You knew you’d choose Roger; had been in love with him for a while, but things had been going so well between the two of you for so long as friends you considered choosing Freddie just to make everyone laugh and not mess up anything between you and Roger.

But you couldn’t do it.

You turned to your left, locking eyes with your roommate as you straddled him, smirk on his face as your arms went around his neck, his hands reaching to your hair as your lips connected. The kiss was drunkenly passionate, the other three cheering the two of you on and counting to sixty as Roger’s hands roamed your back, your hands now tangled in his hair. You opened your mouth, his tongue immediately slipping in.

“58!”

“59!”

“60!” They cheered as the two of you breathlessly broke away.

“You chose me?” Roger questioned, astonished.

“ ‘Course I chose you.” You smiled, turning around on his lap to face the other three, his arms still tightly wrapped around your stomach.

“So,” Freddie smiled. “Why our Roggie boy?”

“God this is so embarrassing.” You blushed.

“Get on with it!” Deaky slurred.

“Firstly, you’re just as good if not a better kisser than I imagined,” you confessed, everyone laughing. “But I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you, Rog. I’ve just never been able to tell you. So scared I’ll mess everything up. I mean, you’re my best friend, and my roommate. I could really screw up my whole life if you didn’t feel the same way. Do you know how hard it is to confess you’re in love with your best friend and have been for the last four years?”

“Yeah, I actually do.” Roger laughed, making you flick your head at him in shock. “Wait,” he said in realization, the alcohol impairing his thinking. “You’re in love with me too?”

You nodded, smiling.

“So we could’ve been together all this time, but we were too scared to mess anything up?” He said in disbelief. “God I’m such an idiot!”

“But you know now,” you teased. “And besides, relationships are better with an established friendship.”

He sat there silenced for a couple moments, trying to process what had just happened. You and the other three couldn’t stop laughing at his thought process that was visually represented on his face.

First he was shocked, then happy, excited, confused, angry, annoyed, shocked again, and then it just kept going in that order until he had a look of realization, standing up as he grabbed your hand. “We, um, we gotta go home. Kay bye!” He said, rushing out with you in tow, leaving you and the boys laughing like crazy.

That night was a passionate night as soon as you had stepped through the door. The two of you had sex at least three times, maybe even more. After that day, you never really slept in your bedroom anymore. You gradually moved your things in with Roger, turning it into a spare room as your relationship blossomed. You never really had publicly described your relationship status, which was fine. To any outsider you were dating, and that’s fine because you essentially were, but really, the two of you were madly in love, and really that’s all that mattered.

~~~~

Back in England, you just finished getting dressed, ready to walk onto the set of Good Morning Britain in a half hour. You were nervous; knew criticism was bound to come from your outfit, but it also gave you an adrenaline rush. You always liked some excitement. Your hair and makeup were styled impeccably, and you wore a pair of tightly fitted black jeans which were slightly frayed at the bottom and stopped at your ankles to show off your new sparkly heels. You paired the whole ensemble with a leather jacket; one that you found in Roger’s closet back at home, and that was it. No shirt, no necklace. Nothing. Just an open leather jacket to drive the modeling agencies crazy with your cleavage - but tastefully. Of course it was taped down with double sided tape, but one wrong move and you’d flash everyone.

To calm your nerves, you decided to call Roger’s hotel room even though it was two in the morning back in the states.

“Hello?” He tiredly said, half awake. His groggy voice put an immediate smile to your face. Roger was always so adorable when he had just woken up. Took him a bit to come to his senses sometimes. He always said the funniest things.

“Hi, Baby.” You cooed.

“Y/N?” He asked, clearly still kind of confused.

“Yeah it’s me, Rog.” You giggled.

“Do I need to come pick you up now?” He slurred.

“What?”

“What?” He tiredly echoed, making you laugh.

“Roger wake up, it's me, Y/N.”

“Oh, oh. Sorry, sorry. I’m here now.”

You laughed. “What was that all about?”

“What was what about?” He said completely awake now.

“You saying you had to come pick me up?”

“Oh, yeah. Think I had a dream where you were at a bar or something and didn’t want to leave and I had to go back and get you. Gimme a break, Love. It’s two in the morning here, you know.” He teased.

“I know,” you smiled. “I just wanted to hear your voice. Miss you.”

“Well I miss you too, my Love. It isn’t just a saying. The bed really is much colder without you.”

His comment made you laugh. “You think that’s bad, try our bed back at home. It’s bloody awful.”

“You know,” he yawned, “you’re usually pretty good about calling at a decent time for us both. Why are you calling so early?”

“Nerves. I’ve got my interview in a half hour.”

“You’re the most headstrong person I know beside myself. You’ll be fine.”

“I know, but I never really do interviews. Just say a word or two when someone shoves a camera in your face. Never had one where I’m the Roger.”

“The Roger?” He laughed.

“You know, the famous person.”

“Ohh, righttt.” He smiled at your adorable comment. “Just keep your head together, be the personable girl you always are. Be the Y/N I know and you’ll be fine.”

“What about the questions?”

“Just answer the ones you want to, but answer them truthfully. You’re usually blatantly honest, so if you don’t like a question just tell ‘em. Or you can just dodge it. Both work equally as well. Being honest will show people your personality the best.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “And what if they ask about my modeling career?”

“Like I said, be honest. Tell ‘em you’re not a model. Tell ‘em about us, how the photo shoot came about. All that.”

“And if they ask if I have a manager?”

“You don’t.”

“But-”

“Y/N,” he cut you off, “you don’t even work or have a job. I pay all the bills, which I’m completely fine with and don’t want to stop doing. I love providing for you. But like I said, don’t lie to say what they want to hear or they’ll just prove you wrong.”

“Can I say you’re my manager?”

“Sure,” he chuckled, “Roger Taylor the best friend, manager, and uh,” he was unsure what you considered him in your eyes.

“Boyfriend?”

“You consider me your boyfriend?” He asked, shocked.

“Yeah,” You laughed, “you basically are anyways.”

“Alright, I like the sound of that. Roger Taylor the boyfriend. So what’s your outfit look like? Sure you’re all dolled up per usual.”

“Oh, um,” for some reason you were nervous to tell him. Your outfit was something that's usually a bedroom thing between the two of you. You didn’t need his added comments to your nervousness right now. “Black. All black.”

“Ooh,” he cooed. “You know how much I love you in black. Take a picture for me.” He imagined your in a tight, straight fitting, lace, black dress.

“Of course.” Although it’ll probably end up on the news in America later if I get the shock factor I’m looking for, you thought. “I’ve got those new sparkly heels on you got for me too.”

“I’m sure you look gorgeous.” He yawned. “Alright, Love, I had a show tonight and I have another and some traveling tomorrow. I’m exhausted and really need some rest. You’re gonna do great.” He smiled.

“Thanks.” You smiled back. Though neither of you could see, you could hear the smile in each other’s voices.

“Goodnight, Baby.”

“Goodnight Rog, sweet dreams, Love.”

Just as you hung up you heard, “Miss Y/L/N! Five minutes!”

~~~~~~

The woman sitting across from you shook your hand as you sat down, eyes slightly widening from the shock factor of your outfit.

“So good to have you here with us this morning, Y/N.” She smiled.

“So good to be here,” you smiled. “I’ve always wanted to be on the morning show ever since I was a little girl.”

“So the last couple weeks have been crazy for you, haven’t they?”

“Oh yeah, total change in my life.” You laughed. “I mean, I was kind of used to the cameras from Roger, but it was never like it is now. I mean they’re everywhere. Everyone has a question, I’m on covers of magazines. It really makes you want to look your best all the time when people are constantly taking photos of you and publishing them.”

“And the calls?”

“Oh yeah, that too,” you continued, kicking yourself in the head for not adding that in. “Course that has been crazy too. The phone’s literally off the hook. I just got back from tour with Queen in America a couple days ago to come here today, so I mean of course I was getting some while I was there, but I assume it was harder for the agencies to locate me then. Now that I’m back home it’s just non stop modeling agency after modeling agency ringing me up, one offering me more money than the last, all trying to get me to sign a deal.”

“And you haven’t accepted one yet,” the interviewer, said perplexed. “Do you realize you’re being called the most beautiful girl in England? Some sources even say most beautiful girl in the world. Why haven’t you taken this opportunity?”

“Oh I don’t really know,” you laughed. “The game of continuously turning them down is kind of fun to me, I must admit. But really, I’m happy with the way everything is. I mean being a model is every little girl's dream, but I’ve never been looking to make a career out of it. I don’t need it. Roger and I are happy just the way everything is. We don’t need anymore money. If the right one comes along, then sure, maybe I’m interested. But really it just was never part of my plan.”

“Can you explain how this craze to get you to sign a modeling contract came about?”

“Sure,” you laughed. “Sorry, it still sounds so funny to me. Well, Roger has a solo album coming out soon, and he had to do some promotional pictures.”

“For those who don’t know, could you say who Roger is to you?”

“Of course,” you smiled. “well I’m in a relationship with Roger Taylor, the drummer of Queen. We’ve been together for a while now, and have been best friends even longer. Can’t imagine my life without him.” You gushed, earning an “awe” from the studio audience. “Anyways, he’s coming out with his first solo album soon and had to do some promotional photos, which he hates doing, so he asked if I’d go along with it, so I did, and then it just kind of expanded from there. We went all out.”

“I’d say you did,” the interviewer smiled, holding up some photos of you and Roger in the photo shoot, (I imagine Kylie Jenner and Travis Scott’s GQ photoshoot) earning hoots and hollers from the audience. “What made you choose the outfit you’re wearing today?”

“Well that’s a rude question.” You retorted.

“I-I’m sorry.” The interviewer stumbled. “I like your outfit, I was just wondering how you chose it.”

“Oh, well, wanted to show a little more. I mean you are all referring to me as a model after all; might as well dress like it. And besides this is Roger’s jacket.” You said, tugging lightly on the collar.

And then you felt it. The release of the tightness on the skin of your breasts, the double sided tape breaking loose from your breasts from the change in pressure from your slight pulls.

And then it happened. The right side of the jacked flew open a little bit.

And you noticed.

The interviewer noticed; you saw it on her face.

The crowd noticed; you heard it from the gasp.

And the camera caught it.

The camera caught you flashing all of Britain on live television.

Hey, you thought in a state of panic, at least it was the good side.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Knock, knock, knock.

Roger groggily awoke from his sleep checking the clock.

3:30 AM.

Only an hour and a half after you had called him.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Roger, darling. You’ve got to turn on the news. It’s Freddie, Brian, and John.” He said giddily. He was excited about something.

Roger stumbled out of bed, unlocking the door and flopping back onto his pillow as Freddie grabbed the remote, hurriedly putting on the news.

“Look, Rog!” Freddie encouraged.

And then he heard it.

“Roger Taylor’s girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N flashes all of Britain, and now the world on her interview with Good Morning Britain.”

Roger shot straight up, watching it again and again. It was being blown out of proportion, yet at the same time was extremely noticeable. It made him turned on while also making him extremely jealous.

The whole world just got to see something that was only supposed to be his.

~~~~

You cried to Roger on the phone after his concert that night. How embarrassed you felt. How sorry you were.

He did his best to calm you down, almost blowing up at one point, but he kept his emotions in control. Decided he couldn’t start a fight with you if he was going to propose soon.

It was just the idea that the whole world saw something that he considered his, saw a part of you nude made him upset.

It made him jealous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two Weeks Later:

Roger had been home for a week, and you were feeling on top of the world. It was nice to not have to worry about traveling for a little bit, about where he was and if he made it there safely. It was nice to feel like a normal couple that lived together for a little bit.

The media had been ruthless. You took it hard at first, all the media calling you a slut, a whore. Saying Roger had been dating a prostitute and that the two of you tried to cover it up. You stayed in bed for a couple of days. Didn’t want to leave the house, turn on the TV, or look at the newspaper without Roger. You didn’t answer the phone to anyone. Only called Roger once a day. When he came home he found you in bed looking like a complete mess. Dark eyes, only wearing one of his sweatshirts. Glasses of water around the room, an empty bag of chips on the end table. The lights were dimmed and there was a box of tissues on your chest. He didn’t say anything when he saw you, and he didn't have to. He just held you in his arms as you cried.

It was all over soon enough though. As Freddie assured you, any media is good media. It brought attention to your name. Soon enough, your were out of your funk and getting free things from big designers in the mail. It all ended up alright.

Roger told you he had to run out and do a couple errands, and to be ready for dinner at six. He said he had some surprises coming throughout the day, so to be prepared. Little did you know he was planning on proposing that night. You awoke to his absence, still in your lingerie from the night before to a new, versace, fluffy bathrobe with a note on the hanger hanging from the bedpost across from you. It read:

“Love you more, xoxo, Roger.”

You smiled as you put it on, hearing the doorbell ring and starting the trek through your mansion to the front door.

“Oh my god, he didn’t.” You said to yourself as you stepped out of the master bedroom. There were photos covering the floor everywhere. Photos of the two of you. You picked one up. It was of a day you and Roger went on a hike back in college. It brought a smile to your face as you stuffed it in the pocket of your robe. You walked a little further, looking over the banister into the living room and foyer and down the stairs. At your feet was a photo you took of him when you went skiing last winter. Everywhere was covered with photos of the two of you. There were repeats, but it didn’t matter. Of course there’d be some repeats, he had a lot of floor space to cover. The pictures on the stairs made you smile the most, or instead just picture, singular. The stairs were covered in Roger’s favorite picture of you, a photo of you upside down, playing Tenement Funster on the guitar, which he had taught you because he thought it was the easiest to play. He took copies of that picture everywhere. Kept one in his pocket, one in his wallet, one taped on the side of his drum. One stuck in the mirror in your bedroom, one framed in the living room downstairs, one framed in his music room. It was everywhere. He said he never wanted to forget it. There was a poster board taped to the wall to the side of the stairs with “The love of my life, Y/N” and an arrow down written on it in sharpie, which made you giggle. Little by little, you picked up your favorite pictures, some of which you didn’t know existed, and put them in the pocket of your robe.

You made your way to the front door, unlocking it to find a huge bouquet of roses. There were easily six dozen roses, maybe even more. God, he was extravagant. But it made you smile. The card on top read, “Love you most, xoxo, Roger”.

Man, he really knew how to make a girl swoon. Around one, someone came with a dress bag. “Miss Y/L/N?” They asked as you opened the door.

“Yes?”

“I’m with Versace. Mr. Taylor designed this dress for you.”

“Oh!” You said, clearly shocked. “Thank you,” You smiled, taking the bag and tipping the man. You hurried upstairs, careful to not trip on all the photos, and hung the dress in your walk in closet, eagerly unzipping the bag.

It took your breath away.

There was a strapless, scoop necked satin, floor length, white dress. It had a high slit on the left side with a black stripe. It was gorgeous. It came with a matching black handbag and strappy black heels. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

“Wear this to dinner tonight, there will be people coming to do your hair, makeup and nails at four, I’m coming home around 5:30. Love you to the moon and back, xoxo, Roger.” Read a note that fell out of the shoe box. You went downstairs to eat lunch, gathering some more photos of you and Roger as you walked past them.

By four you were in your dress, literally feeling dressed to the nines, the stylists setting up camp in a spare room upstairs so Roger wouldn’t see you until you got ready. You heard him come home at 5:30, just like he said. He sounded so excited as he talked to you through the door, telling him you were almost done as he retired to the master bedroom to get on his tux, praying that everything went well tonight.

The stylists left around 5:50 leaving you with long, wavy curls, a beautiful, glammed up makeup look, and a white and black French manicure. Roger was waiting for you downstairs, pacing back and forth from his nerves.

“You ready down there?” You called.

“ ‘Course! Been dying to see you all day.” He smiled.”

“Okay then,” you said, opening the door to walk down to him, his head flicking up as you appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Wow.” He said, breath taken away from him.

You lowly made your way down, careful not to slip on any photos as he picked you up off the last step, spinning you around as he kissed your cheek.

“You look gorgeous. Just like I imagined this dress would look.” He gushed.

“So you really did design it?”

“Yup.”

“Wow.” You didn’t know what to say. “Not that I want you to stop, but why all the gifts today?” You smiled, caressing his cheek.

“You’ll find out later.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple as he grabbed your hand, leading you out the front door to his car. “Hey, has anyone ever told you that you should be a model?” He joked.

“Oh shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brought you to the Cordón Bleu, the most expensive restaurant in London. As he pulled up, he said, “You go inside, Love. I’m going to park the car. I’ll be in in a minute.” The two of your separated with a quick kiss as you strutted inside, cameras flashing in your face.

When you walked in, the receptionist at the front desk called your name, shocking you. “Y/N?”

“Oh my god, Mark?!” You ran over to him, embracing him in a hug. You and Mark hooked up a couple times in college when you and Roger were still just friends.

“Hi! You look amazing!”

“Oh, thank you! So do you! How’s life?”

“It’s alright,” he laughed. “You seem to have made out much better than I did.”

“Well, Roger made out well. I just happened to be his girlfriend.” You laughed.

“Yeah. Believe me, I know about that.” He laughed. Just then Roger walked in. “But everything they’ve been saying is true. You’re really the most beautiful girl in England.”

Roger heard what he said. Saw who it was. Mark. His blood boiled in his veins, fist wrapping tightly around the ring box.

“Thank you,” you blushed, as Roger’s arm snaked its way around your waist.

“Oh, Darling look! It’s Mark!” You smiled.

“Hey.” Roger stated, monotone, as he stuck out his hand to shake Mark’s.

“Hey, mate! Great to see you again. You music with Queen is some of my favorites. Always gush about how I went to college with you two! Anyways, Y/N. I saw your interview the other day, for your first interview you did great. I was very interested.” He smiled. He didn’t mean it maliciously at all, however Roger took it the wrong way.

“Thank yo-” You started, but Roger cut you off.

“Hey, Mark, was it? I’d really prefer it if you didn’t talk about my girlfriend’s tits in front of me. Or actually, how about you just don't talk about them at all?” He snapped, catching you and Mark off guard.

“I-I wasn’t.” Mark stuttered.

“What has gotten into you?!” You whispered in Roger’s ear as he grabbed your hand protectively as he approached the host table which Mark stood behind.

“If you don’t mind, mate, I’d like to be seated now.” Roger coldly insisted.

“Of course, you had the private room upstairs rented out, right?”

Roger nodded.

“Alright then, this way.” Mark said, clearly uncomfortable.

“Actually,” Roger interjected, “would you mind if she brought us to our seats? I don’t need someone from my past ruining this day for me.” He said, coldly snapping at Mark.

Mark looked at him, confused to say the least. Your expression matched his, astonished that Roger could be so rude.

“Excuse me, Ann. Mr. Taylor would like you to bring him and Ms. Y/L/N to their room.” he said.

“Sure, right this way.” She smiled, leading the two of you to the stairs.

Roger’s grip on your hand was tight. You followed the hostess first as he trailed behind you, leaving one last dig as he said, “Oh, and Mark. Make sure you’re not our waiter.”

You gasped back at him in disbelief.

The room was gorgeous, there were roses everywhere, a table lit by candlelight waiting for the two of you in the center. Roger pulled out your seat for you, sitting across from you as he looked down in concentration.

Avoiding looking at you.

He tapped his fingers on the menu to keep himself occupied, his nostrils flaring in anger. The silence in the room was deafening; you could literally cut the tension with a knife.

“Roger,” you tentatively started, “Darling, I think you might be confused. That was Mark, remember? Remember how we used to all hang out in college?”

“I remember hearing you scream his name on the other side of the wall as he fucked you to sleep each night for a couple months.” He snapped back, eyes locking with yours.

“Okay, what is your problem? We never fight like this, we tell each other everything!” You exclaimed.

“You want to know my problem, Y/N? Tonight was supposed to be perfect, but that asshole just went and ruined it. Showed me we’re not actually exclusive.”

“What’re you talking about? Roger we’ve been exclusive for the last three years!”

“I knew I should have properly asked you out so you knew we were in a relationship. Then other guys wouldn’t think you’d just fuck them behind my back.”

“Roger! How dare you? I’d never cheat on you! We’ve lived together for eight years. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Obviously not; I saw the way he was flirting with you.” He whined.

“So what if he was flirting with me? I wasn’t flirting with him! That’s what’s important! And I wouldn’t flirt with him, or anyone else for that matter, Roger, because I’m in love with you. Besides, if I’m going to be a model, you’ve got to get used to people hitting on me, and be confident that I love you and only you. What more do I need to say?” You said, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

“Really?”

“Yes!” You sighed. It was silent for a moment as the waitress came in to pour your champagne and take your orders, then silent for a little while longer. He broke the silence.”

“I’m sorry, Love.” He finally muttered.

You looked up at him, awaiting more of an apology as two salads were placed in front of the two of you.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he continued, “I had such a perfect idea of today in my mind with the photos, and the flowers, and the dress, and dinner, and then, well you know, but then I saw him. Saw the way he looked at you, remembered how he made you feel all those years ago, and I just couldn’t handle it. I’d never been more jealous in my life. I don’t ever want to live without you.”

“Rog,” you smiled, reaching across to grab his hand. “I don’t ever want to live without you either. You don’t have to worry, Baby. I’m not going anywhere.” You finally had brought a smile to his face. “So what if there was a little hiccup in your perfect day? There’s been so much good, it doesn’t even matter.” You smiled.

“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning across to peck your lips, deciding to wait until the end of the meal to pop the question.

“And besides, the sex with you has always been much better.” You winked.

~~~~

Your meal was great, honestly the best food you’d ever had. Roger’s mood improved drastically as the night went on, the two of you joking and laughing per usual. At the end of your romantic dinner you were sharing a huge piece of six layer chocolate cake, Roger putting Fred Astaire’s version of The Way You Look Tonight on the record player in the corner of the room. Roger kept taking photos of you with his Polaroid camera, made you laugh by saying you could add them to the floor when you got home. You could tell he was nervous about something, kept stuttering on about every word he said, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Okay,” he whispered, blowing out a huff of air and catching your attention. “So I’m sure you’ve realized this isn’t your normal date, right? I mean I think I’ve managed to go a little more “all out” than I usually do, right?”

“Yes, Roger.” You laughed. “Look around us. Look at my dress, my makeup, my nails. You’ve certainly set the standard for the best date ever.”

“Good, good.” He looked down, nodding to arrange his thoughts. “Okay,” he said, getting up and grabbing your hands as he pulled you up, walking to the window to overlook the city skyline. “Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you, that first day back at uni. You’re the only girl I’ve ever been nervous to ask out and, hey, I guess I never did.” He said, making the two of you laugh.

“What’re you doing?” You said, choked up as you knew what was coming next.

“But I never had to ask you out, Love. That’s what makes things so great between us. We just work. But I don’t want it to be like that for the next big milestone in our relationship, that’s why I’m doing what I am now, because I want everything to be perfect. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on inside and out, and I can’t imagine spending any day not waking up next to you and I don’t want to. You’re my other half, Love, you complete me better than anyone else ever has and I’m never going to let anything change that. I’m so happy at where we are now and I’m ready to start a life with you start a family with you, Y/N. I know we’re young but that doesn’t change the way I feel for you. So, Darling,” he started, getting down on one knee as you gasped. “Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, please baby, please do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the world, by being my wife. Y/N,” he said, taking a box out of his pocket and opening it in front of you. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god.” You gasped, tears openly flowing down both of your faces. He looked nervous, unsure of what your face meant. “Yes, yes, a million times yes!” You screamed, as he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you around as your lips connected passionately.

“Oh my god,” you continued, smile never leaving your face. You were shaking from shock and excitement. “It all makes sense now,” you laughed. “Why you got so jealous. It doesn’t matter. I love you so much.” You smiled, connecting your lips to his.

“You gonna put it on? Spent a lot of money on it, it’s the least you could do.” He joked.

“Of course.” You smiled. “Wait, my hands are too shaky I don’t wanna drop it, can you?” You asked, making him laugh as he took the ring out of the box.

“Sure, Love. You’re too cute.” He chuckled. “And look, there’s our initials on the inside of the ring.”

That just made you cry of joy even more as he slipped the ring on your finger, the two of you a crying, smiling, laughing, kissing mess.

Roger paid the bill and the two of you walked out laughing together, hand in hand. He scooped you in his arms bridal style as you stepped out of the building, cameras immediately in your face, photographers screaming,

“Y/N!”

“Roger!”

“Mr. Taylor, what’s the occasion!”

He set you down as you walked to Vogue, the biggest editorial that was there.

“You wanna know what’s going on?” You asked, silencing the crowd and chorus of questions along with it.

“We’re getting married!” You said, shooting your hand out as countless cameras were snapped, the photographers taking your “engagement photos” all of which actually came out well. You were mailed the prints a week or so later.

“Thank you!” They shouted after the two of you.

“Thank you, Miss. Y/L/N!”

“Hey!” You turned around, looking at Roger as he read your mind, knowing what you were about to say so he just said it for you.

“You can start calling her Mrs. Taylor.” The two of you smiled, Roger scooping you up to bring home his fiancée.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I’m also so proud of this one! As always, send an ask of a plot and I’ll write you a oneshot, and let me know what you think of this one!

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