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precious-little-scoundrel · 4 months

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🍸 Harry Crosby headcanons

18+ -helluva lot of nsfw under the cut but interspersed with a lotta fluff and domesticity…to me that’s the appeal of this man, cannot be separated one from the other: the unassuming sweater wearing vet at the block party is also a man of hidden depths.

Long promised and woefully incomplete, the word count was getting out of hand so I’m tossing it out, there’s more where this came from. Not edited so, apologies

Entirely co-written by myself and my comrogue @crazymadpassionatelove , enhanced and bedazzled by chats with @ab4eva including special additions from other guests who commented under my announcement post, credit is given at each specific point for their contributions

|screencap cred grabbed from: @hawkinsfuller

First off let me say it’s been ages since I read A Wing and A Prayer. I remember loving it, loving him and I cannot stress how much I respect and admire the real Harry Crosby and his Jean, the Missus of our dreams.

This is purely for fun, a heavy mix of both Boyle’s portrayal and a tad of Crosby’s real life vibes as taken from his accounts by me. Sometimes you gotta take historical figures’ virtues in one area -say navigation and math- and translate it to the more suggestive aspects of life -say, how to find a clitori- *gunshot*

Because this man’s biography is the most oral-leaning, drink-your-respect-women-juice book ever. Ok, almost ever. For a wwii book at least. Uhem so -I am prejudiced, sue me.

See, sometimes it’s the quiet, stressed ones with a self consuming desire to please who have the cozy sweaters and the attentive appreciation for your interests and the stubby fat schlongs and the propensity to keep you in suburban comfort all your days

The compulsive drive to call you “button” and be on time for church and thank you for your scrambled eggs each morning with eager kitchen countertop oral before waking you children up with annoyingly soft catchphrases they’ll recite fondly at his funeral: “rise and shine” etc

Also back to the perfectly respectable schlong for just a moment -This is a Thing! Justice for the perfectly adequate plug stoppers, not everyone needs a rolling pin, who can resist giving head when the head is the same gorgeous color as his lips?!

Mr Crosby is skipping off to lecture college kids about literature post-war with a pep in his step that you put there without fail, you can’t help it, it’s as essential as the matching “his and hers” coffee mugs you bought during your honeymoon

Cookies slightly burned cuz you’re busy as bunnies in the bathroom while the kids ride bikes in the cul-de-sac is a Crosby staple

This is a man who as husband keeps you well supplied with mixers and microwaves and cute little nighties and also loves your brain -SCORE.

Loves to gift you with bath oil and fun stuff to smell good. He's into lavender. It benefits him in the end, loves to sit on the edge of the tub and just talk with you for ages

Croz’s go-to distresser is to have Jean sit on his face until his vision spots

She knows as soon as he walks in the door. Fixes him a Shirley Temple, takes him by the hand to the bedroom and …..boom.

De—stressed

As for the ptsd nightmares? He just barely starts to thrash in his sleep and Jean is rolling that man over and taking matters into her own hands

You’re Jean now, you do realize that don’t you? It was never ever going to be anyone but Jean

This man leaves love letters on your pillow, in your apron pocket, in the dash of your car anywhere at all that you’re likely to be. All of this even though he’s gonna be home by six that evening.

Also, hear me out: lots of evenings he just lays down next to you for ages, facing each other on your sides, absentmindedly mapping your body with his calloused palms and fingering you for ages while talking about Persuasion.

Actually gives a shit about your opinions too, and not in the way of wanting to argue them. When you make a good point his eyes get even droopier and he grabs your neck and…

“You're one smart cookie Mrs Crosby”

“My clever, wise, beloved…”

Honestly though, deep connections and the ability to go vulnerable, and if those moments are often concluded with little laughs to shake off the moment -it doesn’t diminish it

Can actually talk about dying to you, not in a morbidly preoccupied way, but he can face it and admit it and be vulnerable enough to acknowledge the likelihood

Then get on with what needs doing

He appreciates how well you grow to know him, and he in turn makes a lifelong study of you

Also, this man is so highly attuned to your well being.

Yes you have to put up with his stress but for you? He will man-up repeatedly and without thought. He doesn’t even think twice about just up and leaving whatever situation is tiring you. did you see him hop up to get the fuck outta that bar fight? Yeah so, you’re bored? Tired? Stressed? It’s not even machismo it’s just a homebody not giving a fuck with the subtext of “my wife and I would like to go home and read and cockwarm”

Often gives the shiftiest excuses to army buddies and coworkers just to go home and hang with you, swears he has to repair that squirrel feeder -or that an alligator is in his swimming pool, “sorry guys maybe drinks next week”

Don’t tell the guys but…HE PAINTS YOUR TOENAILS

Maybe some of your high school friends snickered about Harry Crosby way back when. Making googly eyes at you and barely getting out the most stammered greetings? Bookish and a little clumsy at times?

Ha, you won in the end

He comes home in one piece, that beautiful schlong still intact

you prayed for that ok?

“Lord keep my husband safe -- and his girthy manhood in tact as well” …for the babies you’re hoping for of course...just that… kneeling in silk pajamas each night, adding this addendum with a blush but was always faithful to keep it in your prayers

Sometimes you have that thought in church as well...so you has to take a couple deep breaths and calm yourself...it's because you want children...not because you’re already so sprung off this man's dick after only a couple weeks of married life.

weeks that feels like a lifetime ago now, by the way

Prim and lovely Jean Crosby staring off into stained glass worlds thinking of having her tight little hole tugged open and her guts rearranged, it’s even worse than her thoughts prior to the wedding, because she’s had the experience, then suddenly it was ripped away

And she’s empty and scared to death for him

She gets asked to sing at the funeral of a lieutenant who never even got off the ground during a training flight,

work and church and such are hopeless distractions

Wanders through the department store wondering if every other wife misses this way, does everyone feel the same primal ache?

Dear Jean Crosby terribly worried she’s a freak yet entirely unrepentant for it

But ya know what’s probably funny? Across the ocean Harry Crosby is sometimes so direly missing his wife in the carnal way that he just about spaces out too, and god knows there’s zero privacy anywhere and the showers are the showers but like???? it’s just a no-go most times and everyone gets very confused when he’s in this mood?? Not at all suspecting baser distractions are what’s at play. Somehow someone figured it out, maybe he actually snapped a little about having five seconds to himself while reading a letter and they’re like

And somehow there seems to suddenly be five minutes or so when NO ONE but Crosby is in the showers?!

It only takes him two minutes to get there but he needs to stand there catching his breath and clutching at his heart while he thinks of Jean sprawled beneath him

This is probably Douglass’ doing? Because he’s a good dude, he doesn’t underestimate Croz AND he’s a dirty little bastard himself

“Fellas, the man got himself a wife while half of you guys are virgins? Of course he has urges?”

In a quiet, rare moment, Gale bends his ear -Harry is so modest and low key...unlike some folks *looking at you Bucky*- “So, uh, where'd ya say you and the missus went off to before ya came here?“

Gale’s gotta casually open the door for this conversation “Lots of good sights to see? I, um, haven't done much traveling myself”

It takes Croz a few conversations until he realizes just what Gale means, until then there’s a lot bewildered eyebrows at the inquiry and bashful appreciation for the interest: “Major Cleven I-I already told you, sir, we had a little cabin in the Alleghenies for a week?“

He's been telling Jean about Major Gale Cleven, about how she'd really like him. Gale is a good fella. He tells her about all their "travel talk"

Until one day Jean writes back: “Oh honey, that Cleven of yours is a virgin”

Whether Harry divulges to Gale anything he learned about ladies in that little cabin in the mountains writhing before a fire on a bearskin rug, that first time Harry actually didn’t stop and ask if Jean was dying every time she made a noise but instead, kept going until her cried properly built and she screamed…

well, it was probably an abbreviated account that mostly consisted of “wives are just wonderful people, Major Cleven” with a far off look in his eyes

Gale leaves him to it after all- Harry was married for like 3 seconds before he left, It's literally either playback of the last horrific mission or thinking of the curve of her spine

He gets the dreamiest look on his face, eyes all shiny, mouth a little slack

Somehow these two can be so passionate and yet it’s so wholesome and good and angelic?!!! It’s the allure of them

Because it’s all in these gentle and safe and good boundaries? Like it isn’t complicated and yet it’s not simple and it’s neither settling nor is it turbulent. something to be said for “doing it right”

They genuinely thank God for each other, they’re so sure it was always intended to be just them

I have 1k of headcanons just for the homecoming ok? Y’all will have to request those separate

But once home:

The eye contact they make at social events?? It’s a whole language, the most loving and adorable thing ever

He may not be a real gem of a singer but he’s an excellent hummer. so much gentle humming around the house while he’s fixing the stove light or rocking a baby to sleep or-

You know what I mean don’t you? Some men can just humm and you’re instantly wet? No I don’t mean humming a Billie Holliday tune

I mean humming when you make a new reaction to his incessant fingering while he’s reading, makes him look away from the page and arch a brow, highly inquisitive puppy dog look on his face, reading glasses pulled down.

*a new spot? After all this time? Must investigate further*

This man, when in his element, is a goddamn tease, he’s impossible, he’s goofy, he makes sex the joyous sacrament its supposed to be every damn time and he ain’t shy to remain stark naked for ages

Praise kink for miles in that, once you’ve praised him, he will keep doing whatever earned it for the next two hours. Brace yourself

He can recite your favorite literature passages (he knows them and took pains to memorize them by your tenth anniversary) when he’s gently plowing you from the back with his hand on your neck and your ear lob in between his teeth

He’s a biter my friends -gotta keep quiet somehow, can’t scar the passel of children y’all made, after all

So many excuses given to kids about “mama and I need to talk about the mortgage” -very rarely is mortgage even thought of once the door is closed and locked

But that brings us back to the early days, it’s one thing to know someone so well after all those years but the early days?

Two Virgins named Jean and Harry went straight from the chapel to fucking like Bunnies before he went to war

Harry had done his research tho. All that reading…

Harry Crosby totally ate his wife out on their wedding night.

even though he’d never really seen a full vagina before

he’s a bit methodical, yeah? At first? with a hint of overly flustered and terribly delighted

So I’m just picturing him like hunkering down there, tentative but firm hands on your thighs: “to get my bearings, honey pie” as he takes in the lay of the land

because there’s a lot happening down there on a lady, ok? -there’s petals and more petals and slippery slopes and little buttons and a tiny hole that has to be for pee, no way he’s supposed to go in that one?! but, but she doesn’t have another? Well the backdoo- no can’t even think of that. Oh god ok, ok, vaginal opening, -I guess that’s a vaginal opening?! and due north, a little button that makes her squeak when I touch it. ok ok, might as well start there…

I can see him with a metaphorical pencil behind his ear, ready to jot down notes

Jeanie finally sighs and grips him by the ears and hauls him up for a kiss and just grinds against him and insists it’s lovely

“just kiss me, silly.” she says to him after awhile.

“Mmm, I do like kissing you, Jean” he grins back

he’s naturally kissing his way to her boobs and staying there a lovely long time but she starts pushing at his dark head, *hint hint* lower down her belly and lower, and lower and he’s so caught up he doesn’t even realize it until there’s a sweet little patch of curls under his chin and he looks up with the oddest expression of curiosity and doubt on his face only to be met with Jean’s expectant eyebrow

She wouldn’t want me to?—-*ah, she just face planted me in pussy, ok then*

Lapping at it with the biggest grin, there may or may not have been some noise complaints

the whole apartment complex just knows he’s a good husband, never would peg him as a stud if you met him in the hallway but, Jean sure takes forever to say goodbye to him in the mornings so he must do something right

All the neighbors just can't help but be happy for those two kids

They cook them food and leave the casserole dishes on the landing so they can savor each other for as long as possible before he leaves

Next Sunday they show up at church like dutiful little Americans and they’ve got hickies everywhere and his cheeks are a permanent pink, Her knees are red and raw under her church dress

I feel like maybe they get a little adventurous as their time together draws to a close? Maybe they break a dining room chair? She's too mortified to put it out on the curb

*saves it for 50 years*

Some of those wedding china ends up in pieces on the floor. Can't explain to her aunts why they don't have a full set all of a sudden

i really hope he never loses that occasional hair trigger premature ejaculation tendency.

Sometimes it even shocks him, “O-Oh...shoot”

The last day together is a dismal and precious night

The poor man probably laid there on her sweaty boobs after blowing his last load with the saddest *fml* face on as he processed it being, indeed, his last

But HOMECOMING!

and now the war is over they can set up house and make babies

A small breeding kink, after all, these men marched home from war and basically were told "get a job and let's repopulate for all the boys we lost!"

It’s so damn primal when you think about it but under the veneer of the starched and polished 50’s

Croz can't think straight in that tight little hole, let alone think of the ramifications of another baby

“Give it to me, give me another, come on Harry, we've got an empty space in the Christmas card anyway, think of it!! fill me up baby oh godddd Jesus bless your pretty dick-*

it’s the most mundane reasons and he still busts a nut like she’s some filthy vixen and not his sweet and slightly too optimistic wife

frantic love making with a sweater and socks still on, too

Jean is a writher because the longer they are married the longer he lasts and soon she’s come and he just keeps going and she cannot keep quiet then and he’s too big to ignore or calm down between, just thick enough to always be tugging just right and she fully sobs from it sometimes

Often she’s trying to cup herself?!? Fully spasming and shaking and curling in but his strong forearm is over her belly and his lips on her ear

This man is a god at spooning sex

she is so cock feral when she falls pregnant it almost alarms him

The books didn't say anything about this?! He's exhausted and dehydrated and his classes are suffering as a result

Wants to ask Egan if he encountered this phenomenon

His war buddies become a new father support group

"Hang in there pal, only three more months"

They’ll be in the kitchen just chatting before dinner, she wants to tease him. Scoops a little cherry pie filling onto her finger. He licks it and sucks it off -- bites the finger too, in the background dogs are barking and kids are running amuck

As the Crosbys you’re in for a life of very benign but nauseatingly idyllic Christmas parties.

Snow globes, y’all

Sweaters, spiked eggnog and very well thought out gifts

Harry is the sort to carry Jean's purse when they are out shopping and she is trying on clothes. He also has no problem going and buying her sanitary napkins at the drugstore when she's on her period, because it's completely normal and there's nothing for anyone to be embarrassed about. Basically, he is just stupidly in love with her. He's like a puppy who will always follow, but she doesn't take advantage of that fact (credit to:@noneedtoamputate)

He is Harry “Have You Met My Wife?” Crosby back home, too, it’s even worse when he gets tipsy and his confidence grows and good luck shutting him up about how beautiful she is

This is the sorta man whose kids only learn Daddy was a goddamn boss during the war when they’re outta college, a very casual “oh yeah, that was sort of a thing, pass the salt.”

It’s canon this man cut his own son’s hair all his little life, propped him up on a little stool in the back yard and got to trimming -some of the only times the boy ever heard of those devastating missions

Imagine? Same man who used to take you out on the porch into the night air and rock against his sweater when you were a baby and wouldn’t settle is the same man who bombed the hell outta Fortress Europe

He’s the kind of man whose kids are so enamored over how both sides of the coin could settle in the same man, they end up making a documentary about him

Now I also need you to think of this man at bath time in the early 50’s -Shirt sleeves rolled up, top two buttons on his pristine white button up shirt popped with a peak of chest hair showing through, his curls getting steamed by his kids bubble baths

He’s got the prettiest slightly hairy forearms, y’all -according to Jean at least

Gives himself a bubble beard to make his kids laugh, will stay on his knees watching them play for ages, fully participating

His white shirt gets fully transparent with all this splashing and Jean has to really keep her mind on what’s next when she can so easily see his hair and pretty little nipples pebbled in a chill under them. Stops her whining about water on the floor in seconds.

Harry’s already hushing her and mopping it up with a towel anyway

The Crosby kids will have memories of their idiotically in love and enthralled parents who loved being parents, wrapping their baby selves snuggly into towels and setting them on the counter and just cracking up over how cute they looked with their chubby and shiny widdle faces poking out of terry cloth

Jean and Harry spend a lotta time doing that, they just love their kids, ok?

Brushing their cute little Croz curls

Jean can’t say no to a single one with their sad puppy eyes their daddy gave them

Sometimes they sit the kids in front of the fireplace (they obviously needed a house with a fireplace after that honeymoon) and line them up. Talk about them as if they aren't sitting right there. "Honey, look at those gorgeous eyes -- and his smile! Oh my, who do these cuties belong to?"

But it’s not all placid domesticity. Picture this:

Crosby with a mega phone, organizes a neighborhood Easter egg hunt. He's in charge, his aviators on, taking this so seriously

There are maps, he’s planned this for weeks, some of those traits and skills he picked up during the war come back at the oddest times

this gets even more intense if any of the war buddies are there

Harry writes letters to them strategizing, they all come and bring their own kids

It makes the local paper for being one of the biggest Easter egg hunts the state has ever seen

Night falls, children fall asleep and there are still some eggs left. Armed with booze and flashlights, the boys go out to collect the rest

Harry and Jean don't collect any though, they end up in a bush necking somewhere

Bucky gets very adamant about finding them and Brady is just as adamantly begging him not to

But Major Egan cannot be stopped, he rallies his men, hopping on the kids’ bikes and scooters

Everyone heckling each other in the dark suburban neighborhood

"Ya lost your touch Buck, keep up will ya?"

They all end up in a schnapps induced heap in the Crosby's backyard, long limbs all folded up on too small equipment

Jean and Harry leisurely stroll back up the street under lamp glow to their house where everyone is feral and collapsed and calling loudly for their hosts

Sharing soft little smiles and picking twigs out of each others hair

They tuck these idiot men in on the couches and floor, blankets, sleeping bags and dogs

Hear me out: Jean is the only human able to talk a belligerent Bucky out of his thirtieth beer

She has that sweet way about her that makes every person wanna be a better man for her

When he finally gives in and throws his arm over her little shoulders and swears she’s a good woman, Harry is there with the pan and the aspirin and the blanket

She makes them all the most perfect hangover breakfast the next morning, gingham checked apron stretched over swollen belly

Harry nuzzles her belly when she stops at his plate to dish up the eggs

Everyone wants to gag over how perfectly content these two are but that would be a waste of the best breakfast in the USA

And if Jean happens to make the best baked goods on the block - Croz is making sure everyone knows just who’s muffins those are on the bake sale table. Or if she wants to pursue a career or education? Harry is her biggest cheerleader, doing anything and everything to support her and being sure that everyone knows how incredible she is at what she does. (Credit @blurredcolour)

They may be the sweater wearing, block party and Sunday school couple but don’t think anybody gets away with being snide to Mrs. Jean Crosby -there will be comeuppance, even if it’s just an exquisitely literate verbal evisceration.

There's even more often a roaming band of local kids who kick the shins of everyone who's mean to Mrs. Crosby, because she gives them sweets and feeds them when they're hungry and cleans up their scrapes when play gets too rough and -if Mr. Crosby hands out a comic or two to the boys that "accidentally" tripped some bloke who was harassing his wife, well. All is fair in love and war. (Credit to @promptedwordsmith)

When in the summer of 49 the Crosbies get a swimming pool dug? It might as well be considered public property.

not just the kids who are attached to the crosbies, though. your home is a constant revolving door of visitors - including a bunch of ex-servicemen. if it's not bucky lounging in the pool, or rosie painting the fence in his shirtsleeves because he wanted to be helpful, then douglass is smoking a cigarette in the yard while trying to make you laugh. ev is asking harry to show him how to read this goddamn map bc they're supposed to be taking a trip to the grand canyon in a month, and bubbles is over for dinner every other night. even brady sometimes shows his face, if only to carp at harry for getting them lost over france that one time while working the barbecue because you asked him to. when you and harry bought the house with an extra room you weren't sure you would ever use, you didn't expect it to be occupied as often as a popular hotel. if anyone ever had any bad intentions toward the crosbies, they're definitely rethinking it. those that don't...well. being in the air corps teaches one all sorts of creative ways of getting back at people. (Credit to @fidelias)

Imagine all the different skills the Crosby kids (_and their neighbor friends who never seem to leave_) learn from these guys?

“Oh yeah, Bucky Egan taught me how to swim while wearing his aviators…”

In other words:

Harry Crosby went home and built himself a little Norman Rockwell Camelot and then opened the doors of the kingdom to his buddies and -that’s as it should be.

And that’s not even mentioning how the Air Force and the CIA walked up to his front porch and interrupted a backyard ballgame to ask him for his help

It sucks to be super smart and needed when all ya wanna do is teach literature, go camping and help keep the church life going

But still

Jean sure looked good in Pakistan, the kids enjoyed a new culture and Harry likes to say he may have done some good

#mota fanfic #masters of the air #harry crosby #Harry Crosby fanfic #Harry Crosby x reader #mota headcanons #masters of the air fanfiction #anthony boyle #hbo war fanfic

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kvthgok · 10 months

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Surprise? | Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider Reader (Platonic)

Warnings- none

Summary - Durning a mission you get hurt and try to hide your injury from Miguel

Side note - IM SO SRRY YALL THAT I HAVENT BEEN POSTING LATELY 😭🙏. SOMEWHAT PROOFREAD BTWWWW (ALSO to those who did request ideas I DID read them and am currently writing them 🤍🤍)

It was like any other day in the spider society. Fighting and sending anomalies back to their earths. But things had taken a slight little turn.

You had asked Miguel if you could tag along on a mission with him. It had token some convincing but half of it was just you begging. Miguel didn’t really like the thought of you going on actual tricky missions. He would normally send you on missions to catch the anomalies of the week. But not serious dangerous ones, especially the new anomaly Spot.

As you and Miguel were standing on a building Miguel was going over emergency plans.“Okay kid if anything goes downhill and you open a portal back to HQ immediately. I’ll be fine and finish up the mission myself.” Miguel looked at you trying to reassure you that he would be fine if you needed to leave.

Miguel sighed and then looked at the mission in front of you. “Ok you ready?” He asked you. His tone shifted back to a bit more stern and serious.

Yup!” You Said putting on my mask

The two of guys both put on your mask then swung off the building to the chaos down there.

Skip time after fight (cuz I’m to lazy & suck dookie at writing fight scenes🤭)

Miguel had met back up with you and was checking to make sure you were alright.

“You alright kid?” Miguel said having a tiny hint of concern in his voice.

He was about to say something else but stopped himself. He didn’t want to seem to over protective.

“The mission was a success. Good job kid.” Miguel said instead with a slight proud smile

He looked down at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah you alright kid? You didn’t get injured out there right?” He didn’t look too concerned but he had that same small hint of worry in his voice.

“Mhm yeah im fine.” I Said with a Small smile.

You had lied. Your hand was hurting like a bitch. The anomaly had stomped on it while fighting. You only lied to Miguel so he didn’t have to worry. Your lie seemed to work though.

Skip few days

These past days Miguel has noticed you had been laying off one of your hands and questioned you one night about it.

“Kid remember that time on the mission when you told me you weren’t hurt?” Miguel asked with a neutral expression.

“Yeah..why?” You said trying to act normal.

Miguel sighed and looked at you for a few seconds. “Don’t try to act like your normal. I’m not that stupid. Show me your injured hand.” Miguel’s tone had shifted back to being stern.

You still tried to act like you didn’t know what he was talking about.

He sighed out of annoyance and called out for Lyla telling her to scan you. She did find something. Your hurt hand.

Miguel was more annoyed then anything at this point. He had known you were lying to him this whole time. “So your telling me you’ve kept this injury hidden for a few days and didn’t tell me?” Miguel asked you while looking annoyed.

You nervously smiled not knowing what to say, “Surprise?”

He had a pissed off look on his face as he looked down at you, “Your not funny.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had an injured hand when we got back to headquarters. I could’ve done something about it.” Miguel said with a stern tone.

“I didn’t want to you worry that’s why I didn’t say anything about it.” I said scratching my head looking down

Miguel looked at you for a few seconds. You could tell he was trying not to lash out. He sighed a bit and then spoke. “The next time you have an injury like this tell me please. This injury could’ve gotten a lot worse if you kept quite and let it fester for long periods of time.” Miguel spoke with a gentle tone even though he was pissed.

Miguel looked down at you once more. He could see that you had learned from this mistake. “I get it you didn’t want me to worry. Just don’t make that mistake again.” Miguel said looking a little less annoyed about this.

“Sorry Miguel” I Said in a low tone

“Its alright kid but next time just tell me. I want to make sure your always safe alright.” Miguel spoke with his eyes looking slightly softer and less stern.

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bedoballoons · 6 months

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─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎄𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎄

Albedo x Reader

{༻~Day 15: Dressing up as Santa~༺}

CW: Super sweet! Albedo dresses up as Santa for Klee!

Christmas masterlist

𑁍༄Albedo:

"Is Santa really here? Dodoco and I have been waiting soooo long.." Klee looked up at you with bright eyes and a small frown. She'd left her normal attire at home, dawning instead a adorable christmas dress with bells and green bows, her elf ears and Santa hat making her look like one of his workers. She'd been so good the past couple months, no time in solitary at all, so you and Albedo had come up with the most perfect Christmas gift...only it took awhile to actually put it all together.

"He's just making sure the reindeer are put away in the stables, nice and fed with yummy hay. Isn't that right Santa!?" You shouted at the end, giggling a little when you heard a grunt from behind the door...he truly was the sweetest guy you'd ever met.

"Santa are you ok-"

"HO HO HO!" You and Klee gasped, Albedo...or rather Santa, threw open the door. His beard long and tangled, his outfit mishapened like he had pillows instead of a tummy...but he was still the jolly old man himself and slung over his shoulder was a rather large bag of what Klee could only assume we're Christmas gifts for all the good kids in Mondstat.

"Santa!! It really is you!! My name's Klee and this is dodoco! We've been really good all year and so has my brother Albedo and his partner too! I was hoping you could give us all Christmas gifts, oh pretty please!" You smiled at Albedo, the two of you meeting eyes for a moment as Klee ran up to him...you both knew she was going to ask for gifts for her and dodoco, but neither of you would have guessed she would have for you two.

"Well little one, since you have all been so good this year, I have a very special gift for for you...as for your brother and his partner, their gifts will take a bit longer to get here. Do you think they will mind?"

"I don't think so Santa! They say they are eachothers gift all the time anyway!" Your cheeks flushed, your heart skipping a beat...you'd said that for sure, but Albedo had too?

"Aha, well that's adorable. Enough on that though, a gift for you." Albedo held out a neatly wrapped present for her, it wasn't to big or to small and it smelled like candied apples.

Klee unwrapped it quickly, tearing off the paper untill it revealed a entire story book, each page hand drawn by Albedo and every sentence written by you. It was a tail about dodoco, with pop up pictures and hidden compartments filled with candy, one of which had a miniature dodoco you had painstakingly sewn together.

She didn't say a word at first, just smiled so big as tears of join ran down her rosey cheeks, this was the best gift she'd ever gotten, "Thank you Santa!! Thank you!!"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Merry Christmas~*⁠.⁠✧

#bedos christmas event #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #albedo fluff #albedo x you #albedo x reader #albedo headcanons #albedo genshin impact

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coolshadowtwins · 29 days

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EDIT: This is a repost from a few days ago, because I hated the fact it was hidden for no reason.

Ok, here’s the first of my stupid JJK fanfic concepts.

The first one was ‘fix it’, for a relative use of the word, where Suguru, after killing the village, does call Satoru for help. He doesn’t know really what kind of help he’s asking for, or even what Satoru could provide, but he is being the bigger person here by asking, right?

It was supposed to be a comedy where Satoru and Shoko scramble around, trying to cover up what Suguru had done. Suguru is not actively helping it this. He’s been convinced to maybe not go and kill all the non-sorcerers, for the twins he had rescued to have a good life at least. But he won’t lie about what he did if someone gets too close to ask, and the twins love the fact they were saved by him and want to brag whenever they could. Satoru and Shoko have to make up so many lies.

Yaga: What happened to the village?!

Suguru: Huh? Oh I kil-

Satoru: -killed the curse! Nasty thing it was, setting the town a blaze and then blowing it up. There’s not even a house left.

Yaga:…. The damage looks like your red attack, Satoru.

Satoru: What? No. What? Ha! No. I wasn’t even there!

Yaga: Then how do you know the houses are gone?

Satoru: …. I read.

It ended up not really funny enough for me? And I also didn’t have much of an idea of how to continue it. Under the cut is what little I had lol

It started with a phone call in the middle of an empty town.

Well, actually, it started a few days before that, with a conversation in an empty classroom.

“You’re back early.” Suguru noted with dull surprise as Satoru walked in. ‘Dull’ seemed to be the only way he felt now a days, and looking at Satoru, he would guess the other boy felt the same way, with how exhaustion seemed to cling to him.

Still, Satoru managed to smile at him, much brighter than Suguru had been capable of lately. “Hey, Suguru!” He said, falling with all his weight in the chair meet to him. The chair tilted back at the force before falling back to all fours. “The higher ups messed up on the ranking of the last curse they sent me to.”

Suguru hated the flash of fear he felt, the most realized emotion he has had in what felt like months, even though he knew nothing would harm Satoru. “Oh?” He asked, in a calm that he didn’t actually feel. Satoru laughed. It didn’t sound like an actual laugh, almost grating against his throat.

“Oh yeah.” He huffed. “A grade 2. They sent me after a grade 2, Suguru! I don’t even have the words to express how outraged and offended I am right now.”

He didn’t sound outraged and offended. He just sounded tired. Still, Suguru settled in, waiting for the rant from his friend that was inevitably coming.

Except, Satoru didn’t. Satoru fell quiet, looking him up and down from behind his glasses.

“I skipped out on sightseeing to maybe catch you before your next mission.” He said. Suguru looked at him in surprise, and maybe a little pleased. Still, Satoru didn’t look happy. “I didn’t mean to get back so late, so imagine my surprise to find you in an empty classroom in the middle of the night.”

“Huh?”

“Suguru.” Wow, he had never heard Satoru sound so disapproving. “Suguru, it’s three am. And you’re sitting in an empty classroom. What’s wrong?”

What wasn’t wrong? Somehow Suguru didn’t Satoru would appreciate that answer.

Also, he hadn’t realized the time. He had sat in there to take a break before going to get dinner, having to work up the nerve to enter the admittedly pretty sparse cafeteria area.

“…Haibara thinks I’m a good person.” Suguru said at last, unable to help himself. Satoru looked at him in surprise, glasses sliding down his nose.

“Uh?” He tilted his head with a frown. “Well, duh. Course he does. That’s because you are a good person, Suguru.”

Suguru had nothing to say to that. Satoru’s frown deepened as the silence stretched on.

“…. Suguru?” He asked almost hesitantly, as if Satoru Gojo was ever hesitant in anything. “Do you… feel like you aren’t a good person?”

He shouldn’t talk about this. He shouldn’t bring it up. He shouldn’t even think about it. But his best friend was here, in reach, in a way that he hadn’t been in a while.

“I think… I think I hate them, Satoru.” He said hoarsely. Satoru paused.

“Eh? Who?”

“Them. The-The Mon-“ Suguru cleared his throat, looking away. “…the non-sorcerers.”

Satoru leaned back in his seat. “Oh.” He said quietly, like he was surprised. He didn’t say anything more.

“Didn’t you feel like this?” Suguru asked desperately. “Last year? When-“

He cut off. Last year, when Suguru found his not dead best friend carrying Riko’s lifeless body, looking at him with equally lifeless eyes, while all those-those cult members just clapped around them at a young girl’s death.

‘Should we kill them all?’ Satoru had asked him. Suguru had answered ‘no’ at the time, but now-

This time, it’s Satoru that goes silent, staring at him for a long moment. “….not really.” He admitted after a while. Suguru gulped, his curses burning in his stomach like acid. “I didn’t feel really anything last year, when I asked. I was pretty out of it. I don’t… think I could actually hate anyone.” He sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “That sounds exhausting to care that much, honestly.”

“Oh.” Suguru said, quietly, and then nothing else. Satoru didn’t let the silence settle this time, leaning forward with a sudden burst of energy.

“Ok!” He clapped his hands, the noise echoing in the empty room. “So you hate them! Let’s put a pin in that for the moment!” He smiled, a little stretched thin, and made a motion with his hands like he was pinning something to a cork board.

Suguru frowned, Yuki’s voice circling in his head. This did not feel like something he should ‘put a pin in’ right now. This felt like he should figure it out as soon as he could, to let one side win out before it tore him apart. “Satoru I-“

“Nope!” Satoru, the annoyance, put up a hand to silence him. “It is much too late for this! So, Haibara thinks you’re a good person, and you do not agree. What do you want to do about that?”

“I thought we were ‘putting a pin in it’. “ Suguru grumbled, crossing his arms. Satoru shook his head.

“You miss understand me!” He huffed. “It’s like you never listen! I know you, Suguru. Ignoring all this ‘hating non-sorcerers’ crap, there’s something else bothering you, right?”

Eh? Honestly, not really. The ‘hating non-sorcerers’ thing was taking up a large amount of his daily bandwidth.

But he could see what Satoru was aiming for- something else to focus on. When the main problem was too much, then let something else be the problem for a bit. It was a tactic usually used on Satoru himself, or Shoko on occasion when her medical classes got too much, but this was the first time it had been used on Suguru himself. It took him a minute to think past his bigger issues as a result, so far out of his comfort zone as he was.

Finally, he settled on, “Fine. I’m worried about Haibara, but it’s finally my own downtime and I’m exhausted. Not only that, but now you’re here, and we never get to hang out anymore.”

“Huh? Worried about Haibara?” Satoru sighed. “Yeah, the higher ups are shit about curse classification. And Haibara’s just a second year too.”

“We’re just third years.” Suguru felt compelled to say. Satoru laughed like he told some great joke, which maybe he did. He was only 17, but he hadn’t felt like a kid in a long time.

After a long moment of nothing but the sound of Satoru’s laughter, he calmed down, leaning forward on his knees as he took deep breaths. Then, he stood up, stretching as he did so. “Well then. Come on.”

“What?” Suguru hurried to stand up as well, to catch up to Satoru as he walked out the classroom door. “Where are we going?”

“To go check on Haibara, of course.” Satoru said, like it was obvious.

“Uh, no? Did you not listen to me?” Suguru asked, closing the door behind them. “I said that I was exhausted and that it was my off day!”

“And that you wanted to spend time with me. I heard you, I swear!” Satoru said, waving a hand. “But considering I found you at three am in an empty classroom, I’m going out on a limb here and saying that you won’t be sleeping tonight.”

Suguru didn’t have anything to say to that. Satoru kept talking, regardless of his lack of answer.

“So, let’s be productive and check on our little Kōhai! We only have two of those, so we gotta protect what we got!”

“Nanami will never like you.”

“Rude! Also probably true.” Satoru laughed, this time sounding much more genuine. “So, look. Well sleep on the train, and then hang out in town after checking on Haibara. And being out means that we can’t be assigned missions all willy nilly!”

They absolutely could. They had cell phones for a reason, and Yaga had their numbers. But Suguru could see the appeal to thinking otherwise, so he didn’t argue.

Satoru then threw something over his shoulder, forcing Suguru to catch it. “Here, catch.”

Suguru opened his hand slowly, falling into step with Satoru as they walked through the empty halls. It was a hair tie- more specifically, it was Suguru’s favorite hair tie, that he thought he had lost ages ago. He frowned, even as he reached up to pull his hair into a bun.

“Why are you stealing my hair ties?” He asked, making quick work of his hair with practiced movements. “What, want little space buns in your hair?”

“Hah! I would rock that and you know it!” Satoru said, hands in his pockets. “I just found that one, you know? And then I thought it would be a good luck charm!”

“That’s so lame.” Suguru rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think so.” Satoru said, with a hum. “I found you tonight, didn’t I?”

Suguru didn’t have an answer to that, and so he stayed silent.

———-

In the middle of a lifeless town of his own doing, Suguru called Satoru.

He was only half aware he was doing it. Standing in the middle of the street with only the half eaten corpses of his victims, and the groaning of his curses swirling around him, he was moving more on autopilot than anything else. Everything seemed both hazy and incredibly clear for the first time in a while, like he was no longer fighting himself but also having a major fucking breakdown.

He had a problem, and so he did the only thing he could think of- calling Satoru. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, dragging Satoru in his actions, in his consequences. Maybe he should have done this ages ago, asking Satoru to fix his problems like everyone else in their world seemed too. The thought left a rotten taste in his mouth, somehow even worse than the curses he ate.

A large part of him didn’t actually expect Satoru to pick up. Satoru rarely could answer when he was out on a mission, the veils doing too good of a job in cutting communications, and often forgot to return the missed calls later. So Suguru listened to the ringing once, twice, three times, waiting for the dial tone to start as he watched one of his curses slowly make its way to a body blankly.

Then the ringing went one for a fourth time, then a fifth, before being interrupted by an unexpected click and, “Hey, Suguru!”

Suguru’s mouth felt dry. The curse in front of him reached the body. He didn’t have the care to stop it from sinking its half formed claws into it.

“I got told you were on a mission.” Satoru continued. “Already done?”

Yes. Curse exorcised, curse ingested, village dead. Two out of three things weren’t bad.

“….Suguru?” Satoru’s voice turned confused, sounding almost small over the phone. “Is this a butt dial?”

Oh, right. He should probably answer.

“Can you even hear me-?” Satoru started to asked, only to be cut off.

“I killed everyone in town.” Suguru said bluntly. He finally shooed the curse away from the corpse once it started making a mess. He wanted no chance for any more monkey blood to get on him.

“….huh?” Satoru asked, more of an intake of air than an actual question. “Come, uh, come again? What village?”

“The village I was sent to.” Suguru answered simply, and then wondered why he was doing this. Why did he call Satoru, as if that would help anything.

“Ok, can I ask why?”

“Those monkeys had two girls in a cage, blaming them for what was happening.” Some of the anger came back, remembering what the monkeys had done, and he let his curses go back to the destruction they had been causing. It still didn’t cut through the haze as much as add to it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about something like that.

“Ah. The pin fell out.” Satoru said, much, much to calm for the situation. Was he in as much of a haze as Suguru? Unlikely. Actually, was this how Satoru felt last year, after killing Fushiguro, standing there surrounded by monkeys clapping for a young girl’s death? Satoru had said that he hadn’t felt much of anything, and maybe Suguru felt like that too. Or maybe Suguru was simply feeling too much, no longer at odds with himself but still drowning in emotion.

“-killed everybody?” Satoru’s voice filtered back in. Suguru blinked, not realizing that he had zoned out, and taking a step back in disgust as some blood splattered onto his shoes.

“The two girls.” He answered, in what he vaguely hoped was an actual answer to whatever Satoru had asked. “I saved them.”

“You certainly did something.” Satoru muttered, voice muffled. Suguru could almost see what he was doing- running around, doing something else while his cell phone was shoved between his ear and his shoulder. Then, clearer, Satoru said, “Suguru, listen, I’ll be there in just a second. Just… don’t do anything else, ok? Put the pin back for a minute.”

“The pin-?” Suguru tried to question, only to be met with the dial tone. He made a face, half heartedly, and slid his phone shut. He couldn’t believe the asshole hung up on him-

The air shook. Suguru held his breath, almost unconsciously, as the cursed energy of the town seemed to spark, dancing around him in ways that made his curses go haywire. There was almost a faint taste of ozone on his tongue, familiar, before everything snapped violently back into place, just like it had been.

Just like it had been, except for Satoru standing there, panting like he had overextended himself. Suguru blinked, mildly interested.

“You figured out how to do that?” He asked. Satoru’s head snapped over to him, like he hadn’t noticed him standing there before, as his breathing got under control.

“Not really.” He said with a half grin, obviously wanting to brag about his new abilities, even as his head tilted to the side to take in the mess Suguru’s curses have left. “This was my first time going so far. But you know what they say- Necessity breeds intervention!”

“I didn’t know you knew that saying.” Suguru answered easily, feeling both more grounded now that Satoru was there, and more out of control at the banter in the middle of a massacre. “You can actually read.”

Satoru pouted, forced, as he walked over. He avoided the bodies and blood easily. Suguru was a little jealous, the monkey blood starting to cool on his clothes.

“So mean Suguru!” He whined, glasses slipping down his nose as he gave him a once over. Satoru made a face. “You look like shit, and it’s not just the blood. When was the last time you slept?”

When was the last time he slept? He couldn’t think of the answer, but he didn’t want to tell Satoru that. He opted to say nothing, which actually might have been the worse thing to do, judging by the expression it caused.

“The fact that you won’t say is terrifying.” Satoru said, pushing his glasses back up. “Was it before this mission.”

Definitely.

“….before Haibara’s mission?” Satoru asked a bit more hesitantly, when Suguru stayed quiet. Suguru still didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop Satoru from looking frustrated and dismayed. “Oh my god. Suguru, what the fuck. No wonder you snapped and killed this village.”

“The monkeys deserved it.” He grumbled, looking away. He didn’t need to justify himself again- Satoru knew why he did it, why he had to do it. Satoru sighed.

“I told you to keep a pin in that!” He snapped, making that same stupid motion of placing a pin in something that he made a few days prior. “Whatever. Where are these girls?”

The two girls (that he still didn’t know the name of, fuck) were safe in a bed in the inn. The same inn where he had checked into what felt like years ago, but was in all honestly simply the night before. Before… everything. He pointed over to it, seeing Satoru follow his finger to the building. It was the most he could do, energy failing him now that someone else was there to take over.

One by one, the curses around them disappeared, going back inside of him as he lost the concentration to keep them out. He could tell Satoru noticed, judging by the way he looked around.

“Suguru.” He looked down, staring as Satoru reached forward to grab his hand. “This is very important. Did you ever tell the school about the curse from Haibara’s mission?”

He shook his head slowly, confused. There had been no time to do so. They had gotten to where Haibara’s mission was just in time to knock the younger boy out of the way from what had been probably a killing move, and then exorcised the curse quickly, in a way that Nanami and Haibara’s simply weren’t capable of. One hit of Red from Satoru and the curse was easy pickings for Suguru to eat, as much as he didn’t want to. When the four of them made it back to the campus, Yaga had new missions for him and Satoru immediately. Suguru never got around with telling anyone about the new curse.

(He briefly thought about the train ride home, with Haibara’s hero worship awkwardly directed at them, and Nanami’s mutterings about just leaving everything to him and Satoru, instead of risking their own lives. Suguru’s mouth felt dry again.)

#jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru

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haolovre · 27 days

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secrets hidden in you

“they all say that park seonghwa, the most popular and dangerous person in the school doesnt have a heart, does he?”

student! ateez

this series can contain:bullying, beating up, blood, fluff, drugs, smoking, swearing

this is all fiction! nothing is real!!

masterlist of this serie

second day

U get woken up by ur alarm, as u growl u got up and went to the bathroom room. u check the clock 7:30 AM. Well u have enough time. U brush ur teeth and shower. then u check the clock 8:00 AM u put your clothes on and went down to eat breakfast. “Honey i made pancakes! U should go at 8:30 so hurry abit before u miss the bus” “mhm alright mom thanks!”

u ate ur breakfast and went to the bus stop. as u were right on time the schoolbus was there. u went to the school bus to see ateez only in the bus. u went to sit in the front as ateez was sitting in the back. “Hey new girl, wanna sit with us” a male voice said. thank goodness u had ur headphones on so u could pretend u couldnt hear them. U heard footsteps coming at u, then ur headphones were taking of “hey! what the fuck was that for” “oh~ so u were listening to music, thats why u didnt answer my question” u looked up who u were talking to.

choi jungho-

“oh im sorry, but my music is pretty loud so i didnt hear u” “ohh~” he smirked “excuses , excuses, excuses. dont have to lie to me” he put your headphones on. He was quite shocked at the music u checked ur phone. now playing: guerilla - halateez. Know u get why he was shocked. He drew the headphones on ur lap and went back to the group. As u were finally at school (well not finally but yk) u thanked the driver and went to the gates to be greeted by sooha. “Heyy girly well haeyoung is sick sadly. People saw newjeans put something in her waterbottle” “naur way poor her hopefully she gets better” u signed “well u still have me! And great news the cheer club had accepted u!!” “oh my days ur kidding” “im not~ well we both have the same classes but the training is today at 5:00 pm u’ll get ur uniform there so dont worry! And the coach is amazing so no stress” mhm alright u said to urself “well maybe lets get going will be late if we keep standing here.” “Alright lets get going. Literature it is” sooha said sadly. U two went to literature, yeahyeah boring stuff we’ll skip that part. “Well we have self study now so lets-“ sooha got interrupted by something.. well poor u got ice bucketed by newjeans and ateez. u heard them laughing “oh my days lets go to the medic before u catch a cold” sooha took ur arm and ran to the medic but got stopped by a male figure. “Well i can bring her” he smiled as u looked up who it was.

kang yeosang.

“No. U did this to her-“ as yeosang picked u up and threw soohas arm off urs. as he walked to the clinic. “Yeosang u better not do anything to her” sooha screamed to him “yeahyeah ill take care of her dont worry” he responded looking at u with a caring smile. As the school doctor looked at u and gave u a new uniform so u’ll not catch a cold. “Thank u yeosang for bringing her. I was scared for her that she’ll actually catch a cold” he softly laughed “mhm its oke ms hwang” u came out thanked the doctor and went out. “Wait ur not going to thank me i literally brought u here” u stared at him “u did it for ur reputation.” As u walked off u see the ateez and newjeans looking at u and yeosang. U went to the library to see sooha by herself doing the biology assignment. “ oh there u are! I was worried . did yeosang do anything to you?” She sounded a worried mother “no no he did nothing, just brought me so his reputation is high” “ew that player, well im working on my assignment so maybe do urs too” “mhm alright, weres beomgyu?” “Oh he has a other lesson then us.” Great ur only partner is park seonghwa “oh well im not doing it with seonghwa” “did u call my name?”

u looked to see seonghwa and yeosang at the entrance of the library. “Thank god i could get out of that group, minji keeps clinging on me like a fly” seonghwa said now walking to u “well we should work on the project, no?” “Yeah alright move a chair here so u can sit” as seonghwa went to get a chair, yeosang came up too u “ heard u were the new cheerleader well be cheering for me and seonghwa yeah?” u looked at him as u wanted him dead “gosh im joking comeon” as seonghwa came back with two chairs so yeosang could sit too. U and seonghwa were doing pretty well on the poster. As u never thought that seonghwa could be helpful. But then the bell went. “Oh well its best me and yeo get going see u around y/n” as both male figures waved goodbye and left. “Well~ how did it went” sooha asked “went better then i expected def”

time skip to the end of the last class

“YN LETS GO WE NEED TO GO TO PRACTICE”this girl has energy for days😞 “alright alright! im coming” u went to the coart were the cheer coach was. “Ohh u must be the new cheer member! yn right?” u nodded” well welcome to wave cheer club! here are the uniform” it was a blue cheer uniform and the pompoms were blue with gold “ well practice start in 10 minutes!!” u look over the bleachers to see someone staring at u, but u couldn’t recognize the face as it turned away quickly.

After practice u go to ur locker seeing alot of love notes in it. U were kinda surprised seeing the fall down. U didnt want to make a mess so u quickly put them all in ur bag. Ur surprised that it all fitted in

. U go home by bus and opened every love letter. All of these letters had something common. There signed with 0304. U looking confused but said to urself u’ll read them tomorrow.

—next—

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #kpop #fanfic #school au

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lorata · 6 months

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Sooo... I was reading We Must Be Killers and like. Ok. I totally get it if you have never thought about this because I also wasn't expecting to have this thought. But I gotta ask. If this was taking place in a world where soulmates and soulmarks were A Thing (canon hunger games universe otherwise just w that thrown into the mix) would any of the Victors in the village find themselves with a soulbond? And I’m not referring to just the romantic kind- platonic, romantic, adversarial, etc. all count

OK LISTEN i was going to write a whole Thing for this but i only did the intro and then .................. i stopped, i didn't know where to go from here. so rather than let this sit in limbo here is the introduction

BELOW THE CUT: 400 words of concept that does not actually answer the question, sorry!!!

In the districts they call it the Mark of Death.

In District 2, they understand it for what it is: sacrifice, yes, honour, of course, but also — commitment.

In the districts they call it the Mark of Death.

In District 2, they understand it for what it is: sacrifice, yes, honour, of course, but also — commitment.

Not even the best predictive modelling coming out of District 3 can project the chosen, but District 2 are soldiers first and stoneworkers second. District 2 does not deal in algorithms or data, it deals in people and weaponry and the earth beneath their feet, and they crack the code in their own way. Rather than looking to foretell the future, they work to forge the future themselves. They scout the district, choose its best children — the strong, the angry, the ones whose tempers flare and who can’t quite hide the blood on their knuckles, the ones with finger bruises on their skin and fire burning in their eyes — and take them, train them, winnow them.

In the first decade of the Program, the chosen all come from the top 100 candidates. In the second, 50. By the fifth, they have narrowed it reliably to 5.

It’s not a guarantee, the trainers warn them, so don’t get cocky. Their chosen die every single year, cut down or poisoned or electrified or starving or bleeding just like everybody else. Being chosen doesn’t mean you’ll win. And of course, there are the exceptions even to the choosing. Once a kid with the mark got hit in the temple and died a few days before the Reaping. Twice, one of the unmarked volunteered before the chosen had their chance to speak. And once, most chillingly, the chosen that year was called from the crowd of civilians while those who’d fought and scrapped for their entire childhoods stood in tight-faced silence on the sidelines.

The system is not infallible, and so, now and then, someone tries to get ahead, skip the line — drive a sidelong kick to a frontrunner’s knee, slash out with a hidden knife — see if they can trip fate in their favour. One way or another they realize the same thing all the others do, in time.

Trends, fluctuations, the rare exception, flatten them out and you will find one, single constant. Over the years, as the bodies pile up, the trainees watch, and learn, and grudgingly accept: while never a guarantee, the only mentors and tributes who return with the crown are the ones with matching symbols on their forearms.

#lorata answers #anonymous #we must be killers: tales from district 2 #my writing

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yuurei20 · 1 year

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Twisted Wonderland: the Novel. Ace Apologizes.

After a difficult first day of school Yuuya is awoken by Ace, who is asking to spend the night after stealing a tart at Heartslabyul.

Important note: just moments earlier Yuuya tells Ace that if he apologizes from the heart, Riddle will forgive him for stealing.

“‘I’ll let you stay, so you’re gonna have to pay me in ten cans of tuna.’

‘Okay, we have a deal.’

‘A friend~!’ The Ramshackle ghosts dart through a wall and into the room, flying about in delight.

‘So much life in Ramshackle Dorm! I never thought I'd see the day.’

‘Shut it! Stop appearin’ outta no where like that!’

Grim bats at the air as if warding off insects; his usual chasing of the ghosts has begun.

Watching the spirited interactions between Grim and the ghosts from a slight distance, Yuuya hears a conversational ‘Hey’ from Ace, to catch his attention.

Yuuya looks over with a start only to find Ace already facing him, his features distorted into a difficult expression.

‘Oh, sorry—what is it, Ace-kun?’

‘Are you still mad at me?’

‘Eh?’ Yuuya blinks. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You know. For before. Come on, in front of the Great Seven statues, when we met for the first time.’

Yuuya’s heart skips a beat. He remembers, but he has been trying so hard to forget.

Trying to forget how Ace deceived them by approaching in such a friendly manner. How his hopes had been crushed by Ace’s mockery. How Ace had looked at him and said, ‘So boring.’ His cruel laughter.

Yuuya does not know what to say. It is not that he is angry. But he is afraid. He has no idea how to interact with someone who is this straightforward.

What can Ace be plotting by asking a question like that, at a time like this? Yuuya steals a glance at Ace’s downcast face, but he wears no expression. No matter how he turns the question over in his mind, Yuuya cannot think of how he is meant to answer.

But if he doesn’t respond fast enough, Ace will probably get confused and follow up with ‘Why can’t you just let it go?’

It is hard to tell what Ace himself thinks as he watches Yuuya’s silent panic. Ace looks down at his feet and coughs.

‘I was wrong.’

‘What?’ Yuuya asks again; Ace has spoken so gently that Yuuya does not believe he has heard what he thinks he’s heard.

‘Oh, come on.’ Ace sharply raises his eyes. ‘I’m saying, I was wrong. I might have said some horrible things to you because I didn’t know your situation. All I heard was there was someone in the school who doesn’t even have any magic, so I thought you’d forced your way in or something, while the rest of us all had to get in on our own merit. I thought it wasn’t fair, so I got a little pissed off.’

The words leave Ace in a rush, fast and awkward, and then he hangs his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

Then Ace lifts his head again just slightly, giving Yuuya a glance.

‘…if you apologize then you get forgiven, right?’

It is such a clever move that Yuuya cannot help but laugh.

‘Yeah. It’s ok. I mean, I’m not actually mad. Not even a little.’

Ace’s words had been malicious and cruel, but he wasn’t wrong. That’s what had been so terrifying. But now, Yuuya realizes that Ace had just been acting overly defensive towards a boy his own age.

Looking back, hasn’t Ace been expressing concern for him, too? Even just this morning, but Yuuya had suspected him of some hidden agenda and gotten so nervous—Yuuya feels bad about it now. What must Ace have thought of him, seeing him so frightened?

As he reflects, Yuuya realizes that there is something important that he has failed to do as well.

‘I wanted to say, too—thank you for saving me yesterday.’

Now it is Yuuya who lowers his head. He has not been able to thank Ace properly for saving him in the nick of time from that monster.

‘If it weren’t for you, Ace-kun, I don’t think I’d even be here right now.’

‘This isn’t some academy for spoiled rich kids, you know—just Ace is fine.’

‘…Ace. Thank you.’

Ace smiles and raises his head, and his cheeks look a little flushed. Much different from his usual airs, he seems almost childlike.

’So we’re square, and I am guilt-free about staying here tonight.’

‘Hey!’ Grim holds up a pillow given to him by the ghosts, pressing it against Ace with both paws.

‘Just tellin’ you now, every room except the one where we sleep is buried in dust, so you’re findin’ your own space on your own.’

‘That’s the kind of attitude you take with visitors? Why don’t you just give up your space? Yuu is different, but you can sleep anywhere.’

‘Nah, I’m a genius--can’t sleep anywhere but in a bed.’

‘Liar! You slept like a baby through our whole potions class today.’

‘On your first day at school!?’ The ghosts angrily exclaim at Grim, and the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm grows lively once again. Ace’s cheerful personality brightens the whole atmosphere. It is like his depression of mere moments ago never actually happened: it is as clouds have parted, and Yuuya finds himself laughing.

Nothing that happens to him ever seems to make sense, but it may be that he is moving forward—just a little bit. If that’s the case, he might be able to get through tomorrow, too.

When Yuuya goes back to sleep, it is with a comfortably warm feeling."

#twstnovel #Ace Trappola #Kuroki Yuuya #twisted wonderland #twst translations

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iouinotes · 3 days

Text

Dark night, sweet lips | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter boys

warnings: smut, kissing, arguments (between Cole and Alex)

summary: Alex is arguing with Cole and you´re trying to make his evening better afterwards.

authors note: An anonymous person asked if I could write a scenario where the reader and Alex have (angry) sex in the car. I converted it a bit, hope it's still ok! It has taken me so long to finish writing this ff and I am relieved to finally be able to publish it…

Alex is probably the sweetest soul to walk this earth. For me, he is the most beautiful ray of sunshine, the brightest star and every spark of light that dispels the darkness.

He is my first boyfriend, but I feel it every time he smiles at me, that I will never want another man this close by my side. He is the second half of my longing soul.

The two years we have been together were the best of my life. I know that it is so often said that "love blinds you" and that the greatest heroes fell victim to love, fell so incredibly hard for it.

My love for him still blinds me every day, but I don't regret a single second of it.

He doesn't give me any reason to regret us, not when he does everything to make me happy.

He buys me my favorite sweets, gifts me books with the phrase "I thought you might like it", he kisses my forehead when I have a headache. And I just need to be quiet for a while too long and he will make me laugh until every bad thought inside my head has disappered. He cuddles me, watches movies with me, that make me cry, just to hold me in his arms and whisper to me, how much he loves me, during the credits.

Maybe some people will say it's too good to be true. That there has to be something to break through his perfect facade.

And actually there is something.

He breaks down when his feelings are hurt. If it happens, there's nothing I wouldn't do to see him happy again.

Just like now.

The reason for his anger is Cole. I know how much Alex loves his family and that deep in his heart, he sees Cole as a role model. Even if they fight each other over every little thing and throw words at each other, that will never be spoken of again.

While the first three hours of the family dinner went well, there was of course a point, that caused the good mood to change for the worse.

"Just because you didn't make it, I should skip college too? You're such an asshole, Cole." Alex's angry voice leaves an awkward silence, but only until the blond brother answers.

"I'm the asshole? I'm not leaving my family and travel to the other side of the planet!" When I meet Kathrine's gaze, I can see the desperation hidden in her eyes.

"Oxford isn't that far away, you shitty-" But his sentence is interrupted when George suddenly stands up.

"Boys, please be nice to each other! The evening was pleasant until now, stop acting like nine year olds." George's voice echoes in the room and despite the protests of the actual children, who are this age, the request doesn't help to stop the fight.

I usually stay out of the arguments, that the two brothers often have and Jackie normally does the same.

But this time we both look at each other and notice how much more tense the situation is becoming. And that every wrong word would only make their relationship worse.

"Cole, let's go upstairs. I think I left my history book with you." Her stern voice is the only thing that catches Cole's attention and when he turns his angry gaze to her, he seems conflicted of his next actions.

I also step in and gently put my arm around my boyfriend's, putting my lips close to his ear.

"Let's step outside for a moment, please." Alex's anger is also still clearly visible, but when his parents also get up to try to intervene, I manage to successfully pull Alex away from the drama.

His angry gaze softens slightly when he finally looks at me.

As we step out the front door into the cold night air and I close the door quietly behind me, Alex's unhappy voice immediately echoes trough the silence.

"He's such an idiot! Just because he couldn't go to college, he has to ruin it for me too. He's so selfish." I notice goosebumps spreading across my skin and only now realize, that I've forgotten my jacket. But I try do order my thoughts by crossing my arms over my chest, focusing on the boy in front of me.

"Alex, I know how upset you are with him right now. But he's just hurt, that his chance to leave this city and go off to college is gone. You know exactly how much the loss of football still affects him." I try to be reasonable, even though Cole's rude words about Alex's decision to go to college, makes me angry too.

"You don't understand, he said I was wasting our parents' money just to run away with it! You didn't see my mother's look when he said that." A sad feeling clinges to my heart, seeing him in such pain. I walk closer to him, gently holding his face in my hands and trying to meet his gaze.

His eyes, full of anger and despair, stare into my soul. I want to take away any sorrow from him.

"Alex, your parents know how much you love them. And that you would never do something like that. It is your future, your education and also your chance to change your life. They know how important this decision is, how important college is to you. Cole just can't handle it properly right now."

He sighs, his eyes briefly look at the dark, starry sky until the next moment, where he places his hands on mine and a small smile creeps onto his lips.

"You are wonderful, you know that? You are my heart and my mind, all combined. What would I do without you?" His words melt a part of my heart, which already belongs to him and I focus my gaze for a second too long on his lips.

As a cold breeze hits our bodies, I shiver slightly and faster than I can register, he strips off his jacket and holds it in front of me, so I can put it on.

As I slide into the sleeves and mumble a small "thank you", he quickly pulls me back to him. Wrapping his arms around my waist.

His eyes sparkle like a thousand stars.

“I just want to be alone with you right now. No arguments, nothing but you and me.” His whispering voice interrupts my many thoughts.

As I'm about to answer, a loud knock sounds behind us and I suddenly see his little brother making ridiculous faces. Laughing, I notice Alex's frustrated expression and hear him muttering under his breath.

But when I look behind him, I see the blue familiar car, leaning against the barn and an idea forms in my head. I point with my hand in this direction and confused he raises his eyebrows at me.

"What's on your mind, darling?"

Smiling as he keeps his gaze on me, I slowly drag him down the stairs by his hand. The warmth he radiates, makes me never want to let go of him again.

"Just you. Only ever you."

When we are just a step away from the car, I push some strands of hair out of my face and turn my back to him.

Waiting for him.

"Now we can be silent, if you want." He smiles at me, I see it in the corner of my eye, until he finally wraps his arms around my waist and together we walk to the car. Leaning my back against it and facing him, we laugh.

"Maybe I want to fill in the silence." I raise my eyebrows, smiling at his words.

The metal is cool, Alex's body in front of me warm. His eyes watch every expression on my face until they finally move to my blue dress. Which moves gently in the wind.

“You look wonderful tonight, so beautiful. My girl, more radiant than the night sky." His face gets closer and closer, until I feel his breath on my face.

How beautiful he looks today, black shirt, tight pants and disheveled hair. These lips that are as inviting as the look he gives me.

I feel myself trying harder and harder to breathe, he has this effect on me.

As he leans closer to me and places his hand on my cheek, I close my eyes.

He slowly leans in and captures my lips in a sweet kiss, my fingers tangle in his hair.

His hands are not idle either, they stroke the sides of my hips and grip the light blue material of my dress. Pressing myself closer to his warm body, I have to suppress a shudder.

His lips press harder against mine, I feel my heart beating so fast. My chest feeling so warm, like a sun exploded inside me.

Then his tongue strokes my bottom lip and as I open my mouth, he slides his tongue inside of it, gently pushing me against the car now.

Without being able to stop it, a soft moan escapes me, his hand that is on the back of my head moves to my chin as he pulls away from me.

I take a breathless breath, he lifts my chin slightly to meet his gaze and when I look into his eyes, I realize again how incredibly in love I am with him.

If he only knew what he was doing to me.

"Maybe we should go back inside now." Such a gentleman, always so accommodating. His thumb strokes my heated cheek and I swallow loudly as his eyes return to my lips despite his words.

"What if I don't want us to go in yet?" His eyes now look into mine, confusion swirling in his irises.

“Then what do you want, pretty?" I lean close to him, searching his gaze and breathe a single word at him.

"You." His eyes widen and when his mouth opens in surprise, I lower my hands to push his jacket off my shoulders.

His gaze doesn't leave me. I see nervousness decorating his handsome face.

"What, here? Now? But, someone might see us-" I place my finger on his lips, pulling my hand down until I intertwine mine with his.

"Then open the door." I see him swallow and as the jacket hits the ground, he seems to come back to life.

Nodding, he seems to compose himself, rummages in his trouser pocket and, luckily, pulls out the key.

As the lock is turned, he opens the door for me and I smile softly as I sit in the back seat.

As he joins me and closes the door, darkness surrounds us. As soon as his hands find my body, my heart pounds loudly.

I silently wonder if he can hear my heartbeat.

"Won't the others be curious, if we're gone too long?" My hand moves up his thigh, gently pressing on the bulge that's forming in his pants.

“Then hurry up." I pull his hand to the straps of my dress, giving him time to trace small patterns into my skin.

It's not our first time, but definitely a primary one, to be intimate somewhere else other than our beds.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom with me." I slowly push him against the back seat and sit on his lap. His hands quickly find my waist and I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I answer him breathless.

"Check my pocket." When he tries to contradict me, he stops as soon as he pulls a small bag out of the pocket of my dress.

"You're amazing, how-" but when my lips meet his, he has to swallow at my next sentence.

"I love your voice Alex, but I would love it even more if you would whisper dirty things into my ear, instead of asking why I carry a condom with me, which is obvious for many reasons. Now, please touch me." My whiny voice is enough to finally get him to move.

His hands wander under my dress and stroke the bare skin of my thighs, I press my mouth against his neck and leave kisses there.

I feel his heart racing beneath my hands as his fingers find my underwear.

"Can I-" I nod in frustration and pull his shirt over his head, his messy hair and the nervous look in his eyes making me squeeze my legs together.

"You look so good, Alex. So, so good, I need you inside me." As if he's finally deciphering the situation, a smile spreads across his face and when his hands stop moving, I want to protest.

"Shhh, I want to look at you first." I pull my lip between my teeth and feel his fingers touching my lower lip, sliding over it.

"You can look at me, while you fuck me." The shocked look in his eyes makes me pause for a moment, but then I slowly raise my hand.

Confused, he waits for my next move and when I take his hand into mine and push his thumb into my mouth, I swirl my tongue around it.

I keep my eyes on him. His fascinated expression makes my heart skip a beat.

After a few seconds he pulls his fingers out of my mouth again, I lean in further to whisper to him.

"Stretch me, please. I need something inside me." It takes him a moment to register my words and when he does, his fingers trail anlong my body. Letting the wetness wander down my arm until his hand disappears under my dress.

I have to inhale sharply when his thumb strokes my clothed core and I have to stop myself from begging him to finally do something.

When I turn my gaze to him, he is already looking at me.

As his fingers push my underwear to the side, collecting my wetness, a moan escapes my lips.

"Please-" Then his finger slowly sinks into me, I want so much more of him. The sound is dirty as his finger slides into me so easily.

"Always so polite, have you been this wet all evening? Or does my hand make you feel that good?" I nod quickly, wanting to tell him I need more. But before I can open my mouth, he lowers a second finger into me and my eyes close in pleasure.

My mouth opens slightly, a tremor running through my body as his lips meet my skin.

My cheek, my neck, then my collarbones and finally across the fabric to my chest. I put my hand on his hair, tugging at the strands as my head spins.

When he looks into my eyes, the look so sweet and mischievous at the same time, I could cum on the spot at the sight of him.

Why does this boy have to have freckles too? Shit, you'll be the death of me.

"Can you hurry up? I want-" When his fingers hit the special spot inside me, I tighten around his hand. I feel my eyebrows knit together in frustration.

"What do you want, pretty one? I thought you wanted my fingers. You have them." As I lean closer to him so we are face to face, I kiss my way down his chest.

When I look up at him, his lips part slightly.

"I'll give you some motivation to figure it out then." His fingers pull out of me, but before it annoys me too much, I lower myself to the floor and wrap my hands around his waistband.

I kiss the fabric, letting my hands roam over his stomach. I see his hands trying to hold onto the leather.

Then I break away from him and quickly help get rid of his pants, pulling down his boxer shorts as well. A short breath escapes his lips, as the cold air hits his exposed skin.

"Do you really want to-" As soon as I put my hand around his cock, he stutters.

I twist my wrist around his cock, collecting the precum at the tip, starting to move my hand up and down. His brows furrows and he struggles to keep his eyes open.

Then, without warning him, I gently wrap my lips around his head, sucking lightly as I swirl my tongue around him.

His head hits the back of the car with a grunt, his hand quickly finding its way into my hair.

I slowly sink my mouth lower, hollowing out my mouth as his loud breathing rings in the silence. He chews his lip with his teeth, then he finally gathes his strength to look at me with lustful eyes.

It only takes a few movements of my tongue for his grip on my hair to tighten.

When I realize he's about to cum, I pull my head back. When I look up at him I see his flushed cheeks.

"Why did you stop?" His lazy eyes look into mine and as his hand cups my cheek to hold my face, I feel myself dripping.

This sight, me on my knees in front of him, him with his chest heaving rapidly and his eyes wide open - he looks like an angel.

Well, a naughty angel.

I smile sweetly at him, his eyes almost automatically go to my mouth. I know how much he wants my lips around him again, but when I swing my legs over his lap, he realizes my intentions.

"Take off my clothes." He doesn't need to be told twice.

His hand wraps around my dress at my waist and when he looks at every part of my skin exposed to him, he pulls my dress up.

As I raise my arms, he helps me to take it off. Now I'm sitting only in my underwear in front of him. His hand moves over my breasts, caressing the lace bra, my sensitive nipple and I shiver as the cold air hits me.

He grins at me as his left hand finds the clip on my bra and he opens it with a click. His fingers slowly stroke my arms, goosebumps appear as he pulls the straps from my shoulders and takes off my bra.

As he maintains eye contact with me, he leans forward, I hold my hand to the back of his head as he swirls a nipple with his tongue.

I close my eyes as the feeling intensifies, his one hand resting on my hip while the other hand cups my breast. Without noticing, I lower myself onto his thighs. Trying to put pressure on my core.

But he just tightens his grip around my waist, pausing the movement as he pulls away from my chest and his fingers stroke over my stomach.

Anticipation builds in my stomach as his right hand wraps around the material of my underwear. As I lift my hips, he slowly slides the material down my legs.

As I lower myself again, his hand moves around my thighs. Our heated skin meets when there is no longer any material separating us.

As our hands connect, he brings mine closer to his mouth. Kisses the skin and makes a smile appear on my lips.

"Ready?" His quiet voice makes me nod.

His hand wraps around my waist, helping me lift myself up as he directs his cock at my entrance and we both let out a loud sigh, when we meet.

I pull my arms around his shoulders, cupping both of my hands around his face as I lower myself further onto him.

The tugging hurts slightly, but it's pleasant as he leans in, stealing my attention as he places his lips on mine.

The kiss is a mixture of our breathing, love and pleasure.

The heat that arises between us warms up the car. I see the windows fogging up out of the corner of my eye.

When my hips are right on his own, he stretches me out so much, that I feel him all the way into my stomach.

His sweet lips brush the corners of my mouth, my cheek. His hand goes around my back, trying to give me time to get used to him.

"Do you feel good?" As I rock against him and he's moaning in respone, I laugh against his skin.

"Does this answer your question?" The look he gives me, leaves me out of breath.

"God, you´re amazing." I smile to myself, slowly lowering myself back onto him. His eyes follow my movements, as his lips settle between the valley of my chest.

His breath is warm against my skin, I almost want to close my eyes, but decide against it when I meet his attentive gaze.

When I finally move, I let out a shaky breath. I need a moment to savor the feeling. To savor being so close to him.

"Do you need help, beautiful?" I nod slightly, feeling his hands wrap around my waist and helping to lift me up.

As soon as I lower myself, I murmur his name like a prayer.

"Alex-" A groan escapes me.

"I know, beautiful. You're doing so good." My hands roam from his shoulders over his bare chest, over the heated skin. As my fingers wrap around his neck to rest my forehead against his, he lifts his hips.

His hands press into my skin, surely leaving a mark for the next day, but his mumbled words draw all attention away.

The sight of his freckles look like a gorgeous work of art.

"You like that? If everyone could see you? Fuck-" He takes a sharp breath as I start moving faster. His question makes my stomach tingle.

"I just want you to see me." His mouth twists into a smile and I lower myself to steal a kiss.

"I only want you too." His lips feel warm aginst mine. His tongue traces my bottom lip and as my thighs shake, his hands roaming my back.

“Do you want to swap?” Out of breath, I just nod, wanting to finally come.

The next second, I'm lying in the back seat, a laugh escaping me as his mouth hovers over my stomach.

He leaves dizzying kisses there, my fingers stroking his wet hair. For that moment as we look at each other, there is only us.

Then he slowly kisses his way down my thighs, across my stomach, up to my chest and finally hovers over my face.

He supports himself on the armrest while my fingers stroke his cheek. As he enters me again, my eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and my mouth hangs open.

I feel his grin in the darkness.

"Stop doing that." My voice sounds slightly embarrassed between us, but a smile still creeps onto my lips at his satisfaction.

"What? I just want to make my girl feel good." I wrap my legs around his waist, connecting our bodies even closer.

"You´re so beautiful, you know that? I could stare at you all day and it still wouldn´t be enough." His hip movements are so deep, that I can feel him in my stomach.

His hands wander over every part of my body that is spread out in front of him. My mouth opens in pleasure as I feel my climax approaching.

“I want to come so bad, please- Alex, please let me come.” His mouth settles on my collarbones, leaving marks, and all I can do is moan, unable to care.

"You deserve it, you've been so good to me. Let go, you can." It's always these moments, his whispering voice, his seductive, sweet words and that look in his eyes. It's as if the world stops the moment I reach my climax with him.

The thought is the last thing I need and as his hand wraps lovingly around my cheek and he gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, I see white.

I feel so good, only hearing in the background as he lets out a long moan and comes inside me with one last thrust. I notice how he lets his weight rest lightly on me, before he grips my hips and swaps our positions.

A slight moan leaves me as he pulls out of me and with my last remaining strength, I lay my head on his heated chest. Our breaths synchronize perfectly in the next seconds and I feel deeply lovestruck.

“I love you.” His fingers stroke my temples, brushing individual, sweaty strands from my face.

“I love you more.” How wonderful these three words sound, when they are said by him.

As we lie together in the dark and the bright stars shine down on us, there is nothing more beautiful than this moment.

Well, maybe him.

#x reader #my life with the walter boys #alex walter #love #fanfic #smut #love confessions #cole walter

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myjisung · 2 years

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[10:34PM] — half moon

lee minho. genre: fluff + warning: none

you could have sworn you had been there for what felt like days, weeks maybe. truth was you had been sat in the library for five hours at most, forcing the last pages of your semantics syllabus down your throat.

the library was quiet, you sat hidden in a little nook full of the tallest shelves. yet, you never felt like going. in fact, you much preferred studying at your own desk in your own room. but there you were, your head rested on your arms crossed on top of one of the tables at the very place you despised: the library.

it was minho's fault. he absolutely loved sitting there hours upon hours, golden framed spectables resting on the bridge of his nose, sliding down to its tip from time to time. to bring them back up either did minho push them with his index finger or did he scrunch up his nose in the cutest way possible. why had you noticed that, you could not tell. what you were aware of, however, was that you were beyond distracted whenever you attempted to study around your boyfriend.

you sighed and two fingers tapped on your shoulder, as if to try and get your attention. slowly, you lifted up your head and looked for the body attached to said fingers; minho's. when you finally made eye contact, he smiled, but not just any smile, his soft minho smile; the one that managed to reach his eyes though it barely lifted the corners of his mouth. the smile that had your heart beat a little faster and butterflies flutter in your tummy.

"it's getting late." minho whispered.

indeed, it was. judging by how dark it was outside and how empty the library seemed to be, it was at least 10pm. and you did not even manage to finish studying what you had planned, just great!

"yeah, but i haven't finished just yet so..." you replied.

"y/n, it's too late. let's head back ok? i'll walk you home." minho insisted.

a few seconds ticked by as you held his gaze. actually, you really needed to get this studying done with. afterall, five upcoming exams were looming over you and going through more pages would be the wise thing to do. minho knew that. he also knew that you needed some rest, studying all day and night while skipping on sleep was counterproductive.

he smiled again. right as you were about to open your mouth and talk back, he leaned in to kiss you. his lips were soft and tasted of mint, coffee and minho himself. without being able to fight against it, you melted in the kiss and gave back as much as you received.

in spite of the fact that you were disappointed in your performance today, you did not need any more than that to close your books. the little resolve you still had immediately faltered when minho drew gentle circles on your back with his fingers.

studying with minho was hard but leaving the library with him had to be the easiest thing in the world.

taglist. @zoe8stay @starlostseungmin @starzzns @dumbfound-princess @hyukabean @l3visbby @yejiimg @pearlygraysky @eggielix @meowmeowisdaname @minilinooo @mybelovedhamji — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

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apollotronica · 3 months

Note

APOLLO CAN U TELL ME ABOUR ON E OF UR OCS.. i was thinkin about how hearing u talk ab them kinda inspired me to actually pick my projects back up and also i think they r sick as helll :3 pretty pleaase ? ./NF!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

OKAY SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO REPLY I WAS STUCK IN THE LABRYNTH (i couldnt decide which oc to talk about) BUT i relauzed i havent really talkrd about hiiro at all on here :3 EVERYTHING UNDER CUT and ill format it like i formatted the buwan post :3

this hiiro (left image most recent) ignore thr typology on the right its outdated

fun facts :3

likes: warm cloudy weather, bright lights, computers and technology, large cities, classic literature, anatomy and neurology, strong flavors, squid ink pasta

dislikes: most people, sunny days, manual labor, following orders, bland food, going outside, trains and train stations, getting wet

nationality: japanese

relatives: (adoptive) mother and father, elder sister (pacchi, 2 years older), younger sister (heru, 3 years younger)

early life (sort of???) (cw child injury/neglect, bullying, ableism?)

disclaimer i havent Fully fleshed out its backstory so this will just be a large summary of . stuff that Occured

hiiro and his sisters were put up for adoption almost immediately after heru was born (hiiro being 3, pacchi being 5) and they took turns taking care of her bcuz their parents were too "busy" to hire babysitters. hiiro and pacchi got into a fight while heru (like toddler age atp) tried to break them up. because hiiro has always been quick to anger and sort of physical, when heru tried to intervene his first instinct was to push her as hard as he could while yelling at her to stay out of it, it doesnt involve her . errmm aftermath of that argument was . heru got permenant brain damage and hiiro and pacchis relationship Completely broke apart :[ aww womp womp . Ok fast forward . heru is homeschooled by a tutor and hiiro and pacchi are both in junior high. pacchi is popular and friendly and pretty, but her grades are lacking . hiiro has always been incredibly smart (even though pacchi is 2 years older, he skipped a school year or two and is in her same year), but his social life is miserable . because of his temper and Overall Unfriendliness he was put in separate classes away from his peers where he was the only student under a teacher who didnt care about hiiro or Pretty much anything . it wasnt seen often but when he Was seen he was beat up n bullied relentlessly n followed home , so a lot of the time he spent nights hidden in the school or in damp alleys because he didnt want to lead anyone dangerous back to pacchi and heru . when he Was home pacchi ignored him and heru would try to make conversation but hiiro was Pretty much entirely nonverbal during their school years . at home hiiro drew and wrote and played like anyone else his age but bcuz hiiro looked different and sounded different and acted different it ended up outcast and alienated :[ womp womp

career ??

aaaanyway yada yada hiiro graduates early n basically disappears into researching neurology n brains n Specifically how theyre "programmed" , they end up lowkey kidnapping a couple people to experiment on them w a janky "neuroprogramming" device that, once hes sure is Safe To Use , hiiro uses on itself :3 the way proples brains show up on the device isnt like an mri or anything , the way it shoes up actually Depends on the person so sometimes itll be a short rpg or lines of code or Minesweeper and because hiiro Made the device they can decipher what each brain thing means and collects data based off that . but because what he does is Very illegal the government eventually tracks him down and forces it to work w them or theyll Krill him .

fun facts part Two :3

hiiro has only had alcohol Once and despite being of legal age they were kicked out for looking too young . he cant hold his liquor

he frequents a gaming cafe and knows all the staff by name but is too embarrassed to be seen in front of other people , so it rents out the whole cafe when it wants to go

hiiro has 3 cats and they are all Huge

after he Reappeared hiiro actually reconnected w his sisters and visits them as often as possible . Its not very affectionate at all though

i actually made his voice claim miyashita yuu . the songs where hes louder and yelling r more what i was thinking at the time , but i think miyayuu's soft speaking voice works as well

all the sleeves on their sweaters are slightly tethered and frayed because he fidgets with them while working . the right sleeve is more torn than the left

he doodles in his free time and has posted a couple oneshots on obscure manga forums . they dont keep up with them but one of them ended up getting really popular

hiiro Loves scifi . his entire apartment is decorated in super lame and obscure scifi anime posters and figures

THANKIES !!!

#☆ apollo answers #artpollo #dude this is so . messy #again i Havent fleshed out jis story much i just have main points But i hope i explained well ... hes so awrsome #apollos ocs #hiiro okashi #theyre albino btw smilr #i ws thinking ab adding mor e to his story cuz rn its kinda BOOOORRRIIIIINNNGGGG but i have no other ideas ...#hiiro was aldo a dnagan oc . ult neuroprogrammet #r #whatever #i coudve talked about like ccheck or cross but thatll come later methinkd #Anyway . enjoy hi.#m #im so tired i need a nap #hi lyria

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m0ther-of-p3arl · 1 year

Text

not nearly enough

(robert aeor high au p10)

masterpost

ITS BEEN TOO LONG- ok ok ok yEEEEeeEeEe im excited to post this one :000 ITS PART 10 GUYS OMG WE HIT THE DOUBLE DIGITS also 40,000 words in total in the entirety of the fic so YEYY

Before Jim came to town, Scott was… well, not fine, exactly- but he was laying low, he was safe, in a sense. He was biding his time until he could leave, until he could get out of the hellhole of a town he still lives in. He had a plan, and Jimmy interrupted that in the worst- oh, who is he kidding- best way possible.

or, its been SIX MONTHS time skip jumpscare HAHHAHAHAHA

TW: anxiety, depression, self-hatred, MAGICAL FLASHBACKS, references to past abuse, etc etc the usual

(5141 words)

And so the months pass, months of sleeping uncomfortably in Jimmy’s bed, months of trying to stay calm when he has flashbacks in the middle of the night, months of staying inside as much as he can for fear that he’ll see Father at the park or the grocery store or anywhere, really. John and Laura bought him a new phone, so at least he can still communicate with the people he relies on.

The others, Joel and Shelby and Owen, were irate when they heard that Scott was now living with Jimmy and Beks, or more so, the reason why: Scott can still remember Shubble shrieking “WHAT?!” when he told her the news, so loud he’d actually heard ringing in his ears- after the initial shock, she kept ranting for about twenty minutes straight about abusive parents and neglectfulness and yada yada yada, stuff Scott’s heard a million times before.

Owen, to contrast, stayed very quiet, the anger simmering right below his voice, just enough so that Scott could hear the hints of it, the bits of raw emotion his best friend couldn’t quite keep hidden. Joel had literally stormed over to Jimmy’s house and started yelling at everyone and everything, including Scott, Beky and her parents, and Jimmy- three different reactions from three different people, all displaying their personalities really well.

But for the most part, it’s been good living with John and Laura; they let him skip school when he needs to, John is an excellent cook (it’s so nice not having to eat peanut butter jelly sandwiches anymore) and Laura makes the second-best tea Scott’s ever drunk (first is Jimmy’s, of course.) His favorite part of his current arrangement, however, is his evening “Jimmy time,” as he’s come to think of it- every evening, he and Jimmy go down to the TV room and watch a movie, play a video game they’re both trash at, or video call Shelby and Joel.

Looking back from where he is now, it’s kind of unclear to Scott where and when Jimmy time started, but he knows it’s been going on since at least a week after he moved in. At first, he’d worried that Jimmy didn’t enjoy spending that much time with him, but the avian’s never complained and so Scott has grown accustomed to this little routine, he’s grown to enjoy the three or four hours they’ll spend together every night.

But on the more negative side of the cucumber, things are not going well with Owen. He’s drifted further and further away from the center of their group, and especially since he lives so close to Scott’s old house, they haven’t had any time to hang out just the two of them. He’s tried to text Owen a bit, but things have grown strained between him, not the easy-going friendship Scott’s so accustomed to, the friendship he relies on. Something’s shifted, and though he can’t put a finger on exactly what, he’s pretty sure it has to do with Jimmy.

Why does absolutely everything in Scott’s life always boil back down to Jimmy?

He’s still running his morning jog on the weekends, though he’s changed his route significantly so it doesn’t go anywhere near his old neighborhood, as just the possibility of seeing his father, or even the mansion, make Scott feel like he’s going to throw up. But other than this little weekly routine, Scott doesn’t spend much time outside at all.

His days are now spent in solitude, watching YouTube on his phone in Jimmy’s room or simply laying on the bed, getting lost in his anxiety and self-hatred. Often, Jimmy, Shelby, or Joel will try to invite him on an outing, but he declines every time, brushing away their worried glances and hushed comments. Most of the time, Scott is alone. And he has to admit, he kind of likes it that way.

If he’s alone, he doesn’t have to focus on the stresses of small-talk and human interaction, he doesn’t have to pretend to smile behind a curtain of self-doubt, he doesn’t have to act like he’s getting better, the way everyone expects him to. Because he’s not getting better. It’s been six months, six months, since he moved in with Jimmy- he’s almost eighteen, and Jimmy’s finally seventeen, another half of a year has gone by but nothing’s changed; he just can’t shake the beast that roils within him, the dark, biting cloud that gnaws at him from the inside out.

Jimmy’s great and all, Scott really appreciates all he’s done for him, but the simple fact of the matter is that Scott’s basically in love with the avian, and Jimmy decidedly does not reciprocate his feelings, meaning that there’s always some sort of catch when they’re hanging out. Scott can’t let himself go all the way, can’t make the same sort of raucous jokes he can with Owen, there’s always this slight weird formality between them. Not anything noticeable from an outside standpoint, but Scott sees it, and he knows Jimmy does too. It tends to make things… more difficult than necessary

He misses his best friend. Scott misses Owen, more than he’s ever missed anyone in his life. He misses the way they used to laugh at the park, he misses when they would climb trees to get away from Owen’s multitude of little sisters, he misses every fleeting moment he and his best friend have ever shared. And as much as he loves Jimmy, the avian can’t give him back the simple, platonic moments that have made up some of the best parts of his life.

Memories are a strange thing, Scott supposes as he sits alone on the bed, because though you always wish you could go back and change things, you can’t. There is no possibility, there is no feasible way that Scott could ever change the way things have worked out. But sometimes, when he’s sat alone with nothing to do, feeling the safety in boredom, he finds himself wondering what he would change if he could.

Usually, he tells himself he would’ve chosen to choose his words more carefully that fateful night when everything changed forever, he would’ve skirted around the issues and just been a good little boy. Sometimes he thinks that he wouldn’t have kissed Jimmy, sometimes, when he’s feeling really terrible, he tells himself he would’ve just made it so he doesn’t exist.

But at times like this, when he’s alone and sane and completely transparent with himself, he knows that what he would’ve changed is the fact that he even met Jimmy in the first place. And yeah, he knows it sounds weird and ungrateful but it’s true- as much as he loves and cares about the avian, Jimmy’s basically the godfather of all Scott’s struggles.

Everything’s kind of gone downhill since he met Jimmy, but he’s enjoyed almost every second of the fall, and that, right there, is a problem. Scott’s addicted to the change, he’s addicted to the presence and light the avian brings to his life, but he’s also completely drawn in by the hurt that seems to follow Jimmy like a dark haze, bringing nothing but grief to those he comes to know.

He wryly recalls, all those months ago, mentioning to Joel how canaries are harbingers of death- but that was never the whole proverb, was it? No. If Scott remembers his mother’s stories well enough, it was “canary call, first to fall.” Mother would always speak of how Scott should never trust a canary; how they were nothing but trouble no matter what, even if it wasn’t intentional. And he supposes she’s been proven right, but also…

He doesn’t know. He just- something about him just can’t let Jimmy go. Something about the avian is just so… easy. Or it was. Before the concussion, before…

He can’t think about that. Every time it crosses his mind, their supposed kiss, Scott’s mouth goes dry and his cheeks flush, he’ll just find himself blushing at random points in the day whenever something reminds him. He wishes… he kind of wishes he could remember it. He wishes he hadn’t forgotten, he wishes Jimmy would like him, he just can't stop wishing-

Scott just can’t stop thinking about how things could have been, the way they could have gone if only the slightest things had happened differently, but it hasn’t, it hasn’t it hasn’t it hasn’t and Scott’s starting to panic-

The door to the room creaks open, snapping Scott out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil. It’s Jimmy, and as much as Scott hates it, his whole face lights up at the avian’s presence. “Hey,” Jimmy greets, dumping his backpack on the bed. “How’s it going? I brought your homework, by the way.”

Scott tries to smile, tries to pretend he hasn’t just been thinking about all the things he wished were different, tries to pretend his brain hasn’t just been riddled with thoughts of the boy now stood in front of him. “Hey,” Scott replies, mimicking Jimmy’s nonchalant tone, just the sight of the canary stood in front of him as panic-inducing as ever, his heart beating faster than a rabbit’s. “How’d school go?”

“It was alright,” Jimmy mutters, flopping down onto the bed and spreading his limbs every which way, leaving Scott to look down at him, pulling his knees to his chest to make sure he’s not sitting on Jim’s feathers. “ELA was a beast, though- I don’t envy you having to do that homework with no context.”

Scott groans, tilting back his head to look up at the ceiling, bracing himself up with his hands behind him. “Would you help me?”

“Obviously,” Jimmy scoffs, maneuvering into a sitting position, his hand brushing momentarily against Scott’s before he wraps his arms around his knees. The warmth lingers on his frigid skin, as it always does whenever he and Jimmy touch. “But do you wanna go get food first? I’m famished, and knowing you, you’ve probably kept yourself locked up in this little room all day.” It’s true; Scott doesn’t think he’s left the bedroom at all today, except for maybe once or twice to use the bathroom or take a shower.

“Ha, fair enough,” Scott concedes, pushing himself up off the bed and following Jimmy through the door. As they trundle down the stairs, Scott can’t help but recall the first time he came to this house- how Jimmy had stood upon these very stairs, resplendent and practically glowing in his light green dress. Scott remembers how his biggest worry that day had simply been things ending up awkward between him and Jim. Little had he known that later that very same day, he would literally be evicted from his own home.

He tries not to think about the part where he literally kissed the boy he was hoping not to be embarrassing around.

They enter the kitchen, John’s favorite place in the whole house; purple and green and yellow and so many other colors adorn the walls in alternating stripes, the cabinets painted with the complement of the walls around them. Jimmy’s citrusy scent mixes into the cinnamon and cilantro of the kitchen as he pulls open the door to the fridge, pausing as he surveys the contents.

“What do you wanna eat?” Jimmy asks, turning back towards Scott.

“Um, I don’t really know.” Scott can’t remember the last time he’s felt genuinely hungry, but he does know that if he doesn’t eat he will starve regardless of what it feels like. So every night he gulps down a quick meal, and that’s all he’ll eat for a day unless he and Jimmy are having popcorn with a movie. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, I guess.”

The canary nods, used to this response by now, and pulls out a can of chicken tikka masala left over from the last time they’d ordered Indian food. “Shall I pop this in the microwave?”

“That’d actually be great, thank you,” Scott agrees. “I think some CTM might actually hit the spod right now. By the way, where’s Bek?” He hasn’t seen her yet, which is strange- Beks is usually right up in everyone’s face, yelling for attention.

“Oh, didn’t she tell you? She’s gone over to Krow’s for a sleepover.” Jimmy doesn’t look back at him as he mixes the masala with rice, separates it into two bowls, and pops them both into the microwave.

Scott laughs, propping himself up on the island with his hands. “But doesn’t Bek always come home angry at Krow from those sleepovers because it’ll use its siren song to get her to tell it all her secrets?”

Jimmy lets out a tinkling snicker. “Well, yeah, but El’s going to be there as well, so I’m hoping that she’ll act as some sort of peace-maker. She’s, like, the only one Krow’ll ever listen to. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

They stand there in silence for a couple minutes, the air tinged with more awkwardness than Scott cares to admit, especially for someone he’s lived six months with. He can tell almost instinctively that they’re both thinking about the kiss, Jimmy probably replaying the actual memory over in his mind while Scott sees the approximation he’s managed to piece together. He can practically see Jim’s disgusted face, shocked eyebrows and an angry furrow to his forehead- a thick feeling of shame wells in the pits of Scott’s stomach, and it’s not the first time.

Scott’s been thinking about it for months, and yet he still can’t believe that, delirious as he was, he actually kissed Jimmy. The typical version of him could never work up the courage to do that- not in a million, billion, trillion years. Scott could count all the stars in the sky before he would try to kiss Jim.

“So! What do you wanna do tonight?” Jimmy asks, reaching up on his tiptoes to pull the food out of the microwave.

“Um, I was thinking we could watch a Disney movie? One of the newer ones, maybe Big Hero 6, Soul, or Luca?” Scott suggests, running a hand backwards through his snakes.

“Soul and Luca are Pixar, silly.” Jimmy laughs, and just like every time his high, chirping bird-like snicker escapes his mouth, Scott feels like he’s soaring above the clouds, and he can’t help but remember how much easier it was when he was still in denial about his love for the canary. But then the laughter is cut off abruptly and a look of panic crosses over Jimmy’s face. With shaking hands, he sets the bowls down on the counter, and Scott can tell that if he’d been holding them for a moment longer, they would have been dropped.

Scott’s there in an instant, working his way around the island to Jimmy’s side. He cautiously places a hand on the avian’s shoulder. “You good?” Scott asks, surveying Jimmy’s face with concern.

“Y-yeah, I think I’m-”

Suddenly Scott’s somewhere else, a playroom full of toys much too young for someone his age, the windows and doors barred from the outside, simple, almost blindingly white walls pressing in imposingly on all sides. There are two people peering through the iron bars at a canary avian sat in the middle of the room, one a salmon Seafolk and the other an axolotl, like Lizzie, Joel’s crush.

“Which one is it?” A biting voice comes from the axolotl, not something Scott would expect from such a typically peaceful species- but his voice is directed unmistakably towards the canary in the middle of the room.

“Oh! Hi, Patty, do you have guests?” The avian speaks before the salmon, presumably Patty, can respond, and as they step eagerly towards the door, Scott catches a glimpse of their face.

His face is about five years younger, fuller and hair less scruffy, a voice somehow even higher than the one he currently possesses, but Scott knows him.

It’s Jimmy.

“What can you tell me about Chicago? I’ve heard about Chicago,” the younger version of the boy Scott’s come to love asks, wrapping his hands around the bars of the door and staring with excitement up at the disgusted axolotl, who recoils from the canary, a sneer wrapping around his features.

“Shut up, kid,” Patty hisses, before regaining her composure and turning to the salmon. “Ahem, Mr Barnaby, that is… Jimmy, he’s a canary avian whom I found on my many travels throughout the globe.”

“Why’s it asking so many questions? Aren’t they all supposed to be tame?”

“Oh, haha.” Patty laughs; a small, fake giggle that grinds into Scott’s teeth and sets his skin on edge. “Jimmy’s always been a curious little bird.”

And then Scott’s back, back to the kitchen, reeling from the whiplash he’s just experienced. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s staring right into the same exact avian’s eyes, but 5 years older. For a moment, neither of them speak, thousands of words communicated in simple eye contact. Scott never used to be able to look anyone in the eyes, and for most people, he still can’t- but Jimmy’s a rare exception.

“D-did you-” Jim breaks the silence, looking shaken beyond words, his skin ashen as he tries clearly to hold back his tears.

“I saw it, yeah,” Scott says, taking Jim’s hand in both of his own before he can think about it too much. Selfish, selfish, selfish. “What was that? How did we both see- okay, the how isn’t important right now, we can talk about that later. I just need to know if you’re okay- I remember you told me about a Patty once, but I didn’t think- I never expected-” Scott’s at a loss for words, because whatever he’s just witnessed is so- so despicable-

She hurt Jimmy. She hurt him and no one’s allowed to hurt Jim, he’s too sweet and kind and he always puts others before himself, he laughs at the stupidest jokes and is undeniably the most genuinely kind person Scott thinks he’s ever met. He begins to feel a rage building in the back of his throat, because who would- what kind of monster- who could ever find it in themselves to hate Jim?

Jimmy’s struggles and the way he’s dealt with them put what Scott’s been through to shame, and he can feel the guilt beginning to gnaw up at him from the insides biting and churning. Here he is, sitting alone and feeling sorry for himself, when Jimmy was held fucking prisoner, a hostage in a cell, by a person he professed to trust, maybe even saw as a mother figure?

“No, it-it’s fine, I left, I got out of there, she doesn’t matter anymore,” Jimmy mutters, wrapping his free arm around himself but not removing his hand from Scott’s grasp. “I’m fine. I just don’t- I just don’t think about it, very much. That bit you saw, when she said-” he takes a deep breath, as if the next thing he’s saying takes a lot of power to conjure up- “when she said, ‘Jimmy’s always been a curious little b-bird,’ she used to say that a lot, and it’s-” his words all come out in a rush now, and Scott knows the feeling- Jimmy’s just trying to rush all his emotions out before they consume him too much.

“It’s kind of ingrained in my memory,” he continues, looking down at the floor and gripping Scott’s hand so tight he thinks it might fall off. “I don’t know why, but she- her voice- it’s in my head, it won’t g-go away, it’s been a year and a half and now just at the most random intervals I’ll just hear- her- saying that thing and it’s so stupid because I didn’t even have it that bad, it’s not even the worst thing she would say, not by a long shot, b-but it felt- it feels-” Jimmy swallows, angrily swiping the tears from his eyes.

“I ran away. I left. I shouldn't even be thinking of her, of that place, anymore but I can’t shake the feeling- and sometimes when I’m sleeping, I have d-dreams, it feels like I’m there, again, and she’s showing me to people through the window as if I’m some sort of exotic specimen, and I’m not, I’m just- just me- simple, stupid, trusting Jimmy- and there’s nothing special about me it’s just pure luck that it’s me she found. It’s m-my fault.”

Scott feels his mouth tighten and he wraps his free arm around Jim, the avian letting out a small, startled gasp before sinking into the hug, shaking from the memory while Scott shakes from rage. They stand like that for a long time, Scott not quite trusting himself to speak.

“I. Will. Murder. Her.” The words growl out of his mouth before he can stop them, glaring protectively over Jimmy’s shoulder, trying hard not to clench up and hurt the canary.

Jimmy looks up at him, surprised, moving his head from where it had been pressed to Scott’s chest. “W-what- but it was-”

“It was not your fault,” Scott says, anticipating Jim’s question and intercepting it before Jimmy can blink twice. “Where and when did she find you? Were you fucking kidnapped?” Scott can tell that he probably looks very scary right now, and he can feel his skin freezing up, see the frost beginning to creep over his shades.

“I- I was- well, from what she said, it was back when I was still an egg, back from wherever I came from. The way she told it, she found me, or, my egg, I guess, in a nest in a tree when she was on a hike in Borneo. She always s-said it was the smallest egg in the nest. Do you know what that implies? I have siblings, Scott. I have brothers and sisters and-” he has to stop talking for a minute, and Scott holds him closer, as if just by wrapping the avian in his arms, he could solve all Jimmy’s problems. “She said my parents were away, so she nabbed me out and took me for her own. She said she saved me.”

Scott is infuriated. He is beyond anger, he is beyond hatred, he is the pure embodiment of rage. He wants to murder this woman, he wants to mince her up into a pie and serve her to the sharks. “She did nothing of the sort. Any even half-decent person would know not to take an egg from an avian’s nest- your parents were probably foraging, do you even know your true name?!”

Jimmy looks up at him, surprised. “How do you know about true names? But yeah, I know. It’s kind of- well. I mean I’m not going to tell you what it is, at least not right now, sorry. But an avian’s true name- we just kind of know that instinctively, ever since we’re little.”

“Okay, good,” Scott says, though it’s just a small modicum of relief when compared to the magma that’s begun to flow through his veins instead of blood. “I know about the name thing because we did a unit on avians in Species Studies early last year, you know, before you came.” Jimmy mouths silent “oh,” and then Scott realizes how tight he’s been holding the avian and how he’s probably very uncomfortable with this and-

He quickly releases Jimmy, pushing away from the canary quickly and slightly forcefully, hoping Jim doesn’t take offense. With a muttered “sorry,” from both of them, the awkwardness is back, and Scott almost curses. Every part of his body where Jimmy’s been now feels cold, even colder than usual, as if even his body is protesting the lack of the one he loves.

“So, movie,” Jimmy says, breaking the silence and turning back to the tea, hiding his face from Scott and obviously trying very hard to act like the whole memory thing hasn’t happened. Without looking, Jimmy slides Scott his bowl of chicken tikka masala down the counter, and Scott very nearly misses it. Luckily, he catches the bowl at the last second, and saves them both from the disaster of being lectured about the importance that things stay clean in John’s kitchen. “Out of the things you said, I think I’d be down for Soul the most, though I kind of want to watch HSMTMTS? If that’s okay with you?”

Scott barks a dry laugh, not quite ready to return to normal himself. HSMTMTS, or High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, is Jimmy’s favorite show, a high school soap opera kind of scene full of stupidity. But Scott follows Beks’ parents’ logic: if Jimmy loves it, by extension, Scott does as well. Or, he pretends to for Jimmy’s sake. “Sure, why not? Where were we at?”

“Um, I think it was- gimme a second to think.” Scott nods, passively observing how to anyone else, Jimmy would seem absolutely fine right now, you could never guess in a million years that he’d just had a breakdown- but Scott knows Jimmy well enough that he can see the little details, a slight shaking of his hands, the way his eyes dart fearfully back and forth, the subtle extent to which he’s drawn in his wings to his back.

How does he do it? How does Jimmy pretend everything’s fine when it’s not, when it’s actually fucking terrible and has been for a long time, how on Earth does he do it? Jimmy seems to possess a certain strength of character Scott’s always been lacking in, a willingness to keep going that’s so strong it’s almost a fault. It’s one of the things Scott loves and admires the most about the canary.

But also- Scott’s been so caught up in what he’s seen that he hasn’t thought about how- he remembers it had happened once at the movie theater, all those months ago- he’d forgotten. They’d shared a memory. As far as he’s aware, it’s only happened the two times- and both with Jimmy’s memory, and he’s pretty sure no one else had seen them either time, so it’s almost certainly a thing that’s just between him and Jim.

He supposes it has to be his siren heritage, because if he’s being honest, there’s no way it’s Jimmy’s doing. Scott loves the avian and all, but there’s no way he would have magic powerful enough to do that.

He’s never thought he’s really gotten anything particularly siren-like from his mother, other than the cyan and ice (though ice isn’t really a siren trait, now that he thinks about it) so he’s never really felt like it’s very important for him to read up on sirens. He hasn’t learnt about them from school, either; they’ve never done a unit in Species Studies, and if he’s being honest he hasn’t really spent enough time with Mother to learn about siren things from her.

So all Scott knows are the obvious things: sirens can sing, they have gorgeous voices that hypnotize the listeners, blah blah blah. He’s never heard anything about seeing other people’s memories, but he supposes it really doesn’t seem too far fetched at this point.

“Oh! I remember,” Jimmy calls from his perch on the counter, shaking Scott out of his theorizing with a start. “We were at the part where Seb is singing at Carlos’ quinceanera.”

“Were we?” Scott honestly can’t remember, it’s Jimmy’s favorite show, but it sure as hell isn’t Scott’s- he can barely follow the plot, and because they only watch HSMTMTS about once a month (Scott doesn’t know if he could stand watching it more often), it’s even more difficult to remember.

“Yep,” Jimmy says, gesturing for Scott to grab his tea as he heads to the basement. Scott does so, holding his bowl of masala in one hand and balancing the warm mug in the other, carefully plodding down the steps into the TV room.

Jimmy’s already sat down on the cushy marshmallow couch, and Scott joins him, placing his dishes on the coffee table and making sure he’s at least a foot away from the canary. He doesn’t want to make Jimmy uncomfortable.

The show starts off about as normal, pretty meh, just as Scott remembers it. Doldrum lovesick lives of typical teenagers, and because it’s a Disney show, of course they sing out their sorrows. But Jimmy loves it so he always puts up with it, because he has to pay back the avian in some way from letting him stay in his literal house, right?

And then something unexpected happens: Scott finds himself being sucked into the show, actually interested in something that until now, he’s been completely bored about. He starts genuinely watching as Seb sings a song for his boyfriend, Carlos, and of course Scott had known they were dating before, it’s one of the main plot points, but this is different-

It feels real.

It feels like him. He imagines himself up there, in the back of that tractor with that piano, singing to Jimmy. And then the song’s over and Carlos walks up and-

They’re kissing.

Two characters, in a live-action Disney show, are kissing. Scott finds his eyes drifting not-so-subtly to Jimmy, and then their hands are touching and it’s so close, so feasible, so possible that Scott can feel it and something’s about to happen and their heads are moving closer closer closer to each other, so close that Jimmy reaches out and his hand brushes momentarily against Scott’s cheek and yes yes yes Scott wants this-

A door slams from upstairs and Bek’s voice rings through the house. “Jimmy! Where are you?”

And the spell is broken, Scott shakes off the lavender haze and the rose-colored glasses, muttering a shallow apology under his breath but Jimmy doesn’t seem to hear it, he simply stands and walks upstairs, wings drawn tightly to his back, without so much as a backward glance. Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck. Scott tries to call out for him, tries to make him understand, but his voice isn’t working and it’s too late, all he can do is watch with horrified eyes as Jimmy walks away, and now it’s all over and Scott’s broken everything for a second time. And so the tears boiling behind his eyes leak out, sharp and biting against his cold skin.

Ice-cold.

26 notes · View notes

sparklingpax · 1 year

Note

“Don’t be scared” with Optimus saying it to someone please

From this!! (Requests still open actually....^^'')

HIIII ok ok so, I'm not exactly sure if this was what you were looking for, but after ages of thinking and contemplating ideas, this popped into my head all of a sudden!! So....I hope you enjoy???

And of course, I am deeply sorry for the wait..............idk if it's even good at all *sobs* but I enjoyed writing it in the sense that it was like...something I needed to write. Something meaningful to me. So...yea.

-Set in canon

-there are DEFINITELY typos and weird stuff like that.....I'm really really sorry 😭 I'll see it at a later date when I do a read-through editing session days from now I bet 💀 anyways yea.

-We definitely needed more moments of Optimus interacting with the kids. He definitely would be like a gentle, comforting, fatherly figure idk

-Also touching on the HC I have & love, that the kids all think of the base as their home more than where they actually live.

....enjoy...?

///

Miko flicked a pencil to the edge of her desk, then back again, staring off into the distance. In front of her, one kid was passed out and snoring, and another two were trying to have a conversation made entirely of discrete (not really) gestures and facial expressions. The elderly teacher overseeing them was hidden behind a huge newspaper, and Miko wondered if, after this past half hour, he was even awake anymore.

Bulkhead’s like, apparently too busy to come get me, so…I’m stuck here.

The multiple calls she tried to make behind her physics textbook had all gone to voicemail, so she could only guess he was out on a mission or something at the moment. She sighed and abruptly swiped up the pencil, switching to tapping its point on the desk as she let her mind drift to other things.

Like how boring detention already was, and how it was somehow even worse when she actually sat the full duration of it.

It’s not fair! It’s not like I committed a crime–I even did the damn vocab test! What else do they want?!

Another huff and she folded her arms, leaving the pencil alone on the desk.

She could guess the teacher probably hadn’t appreciated her artistic endeavors on the back. Sure, it was a unflattering depiction of half the teacher in the school in unfortunate situations, but it was still funny, quite well-drawn, and deserved!

A loud snore and the sound of folding paper sounded from the teacher’s desk.

Is he…?

Miko looked up at the teacher’s desk to see their overseer was in fact, dead to the world at present. His paper hung limply from his hand, jaw open just a little.

Who wouldn’t be bored in a place like this?

The other kids seemed not to notice or care, only one briefly blinking up at Miko, then putting their head down again. It didn’t matter if they shouted anyway, cause Miko made her way out quick. Grinning, backpack strap in hand, she slipped out into the hallways, and promptly bolted.

As she jogged down the front stairs and into the sidewalk, she was glad to find no one in sight. With a triumphant laugh, she nodded to herself and resolved to simply hang around town until someone returned her calls.

It couldn’t be too long, right?

That meant her only job now was to keep busy until then. No biggie! She knew the town, had a couple dollars.

It was about dinner time, anyway.

Maybe Jack’s working his shift at that K.O. Burger place! I’ll go bother him while I get dinner, she thought, smirking.

She turned and practically skipped down the sidewalk.

///

‘The number you have dialed is not currently in–’

Miko jammed the ‘end call’ button with her thumb, swallowing.

The sky was no longer a pinkish blue hued with orangey glow, but now a thick tarp of navy and black. The moon was not out tonight, and everything was closed.

As she exhaled, Miko's breath formed soft white shapes in front of her face, before delicately drifting up and fading.

“Eighth time,” she muttered, huffing sharply. “Pick up, dammit.”

It was something of a mix of both frustration and apprehension stiffening her motion. She felt her heart pounding louder and louder with every passing moment, her mind just barely keeping itself at bay.

Deep breaths. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out, in…..

He’s not coming. He’s not picking up. Bulkhead forgot. He…

No, he couldn’t. That was irrational.

She started to shift weight from one side to the other, staring at her phone, then the open road in front of her. Miko opened her phone again, thumb hovering over the keypad for a moment before her hand fell to her side and she thrust her gaze to the barren sky above. She tried again to breathe deeply.

He’s busy. They’re busy.

She slid it into her coat pocket, but kept her hand in the pocket, gripping the device. Somehow, that seemed to calm her nerves a small amount. The jitters making her movements so sudden seemed to lift, only by a little. Uneasiness still hovered its fingers around her, as if to strike again when she least expected it.

It’s only 2 am. I can manage. Why do I care?

The sound of a voice shouting in the distance followed by a loud clang gave uneasiness its chance almost instantly.

With a groan, Miko felt her bones ache with fear and her breath grew so short her stomach started to hurt. Dreading the loss of her cheap but delicious dinner, she backed away from the road and leaned against the brick wall of some antique shop before sinking to a crouch.

She found herself trying to keep a relatively flat look on her face, as if aiming to maintain some composure.

But she was alone. Why did it matter how she looked?

Her situation wasn’t impossible—probably a lack of communication on different accounts; Jack hadn’t been at the burger place, so he was probably busy somewhere. She was supposed to go home with her host family after detention, but…well, that was the past. And now, no one would pick up, not even let her leave a message.

What if something had happened? And then, what would it be?

Calm down, Miko. You can’t act like this. You’ve seen zombie-cons and the guts—cables?—pulled right outta guys Bulkhead fought. You’ve almost been killed, crushed…you’ve been in the dark, you’ve been alone before!

But perhaps that was it, she realized, dropping her head and clenching her fist methodically—open and closed, open and closed—sucking in shaky breaths, trying to calm down. Trying to steady it all out, while her mind seemed to bump up the speed to the max.

Maybe it was too much all the time, all at once, disregarding the part of her that had already had enough when Miko thought to push on. Put on a laughing face, brush it off like it didn’t matter—nothing mattered.

That was what she always did, right? Wasn’t consistency important? Was she a liar for being so scared? It wasn’t exactly being alone in the dark that scared her. Not even being in this sketchy part of town by herself…

Where are they? Where is everyone?

Maybe it was also the suddenness of this fear, the seeming culmination of so much she hadn’t quite considered as deeply—every single thread of thought demanding her attention and her body simply ceasing proper coordination and control. Something she hadn’t anticipated because it was always there in the background, but kept tightly under lock and key.

Where was the lock and key? Why was this happening? The questions only darkened the feelings bounding about inside like sparks of electricity.

The darkness and emptiness of the town seemed to press at her, tightening her nerves and causing her arms and legs to feel like jelly all at the same time. She was shaking.

And regardless of how much her sensible, conscious mind reminded her that if she was alone, it meant alone, her subconscious breathed over and over, over and over….

Someone’s there. Someone’s coming. Someone…no control…you have no control of what’s coming for you…no one remembered you, did they?

Then, as if fate’s answer to the question, she heard a horn honk down the road.

At first, her heart skipped a beat—sudden noises in the silence when she was having a low moment weren’t so helpful—but her mind registered instantly.

And as quickly as it had overtaken her, the fear left, and she felt the shaking in her body intensify—probably out of muscle exhaustion this time.

Suddenly, the cold ache left her, replaced with a trickling warmth. Maybe it was relief, or something else…Miko wasn’t sure. She watched the semi draw closer, letting her mind go blank for a bit.

The vehicle rolled down the road rather quietly, coming to a gentle stop across from her, letting off a little hiss as the lights dimmed a bit. Miko could make out that it was indeed, the Autobot leader himself, even though something in the back of her mind had already let her know it was him.

Optimus…what’s he doing out here?

She could barely stand, swallowing again before pushing off the ground and unevenly making her way across the road and to the door to the passenger’s seat. She felt like she couldn't control her coordination as well as she’d like, but wasn’t too worries as much as glad to have a warm seat to sit in for now.

“Miko….”

Optimus rumbled softly, gently, her name. He sounded as if he was going to say something, so she plopped down in the blue seat, waiting quietly. But he seemed to choose silence for the moment.

After a moment, the headlights brightened and Miko felt the start of the engines. They began down the road, and looking out the window, Miko could see they were headed home—not her house, but home.

She smiled, letting her body go limp in the seat, eyes wide open and trained on the outside view as it flitted by. Letting herself lie there as the hum of the truck filled the air, she dared not move or else she’d start shaking again.

Drowsiness lurked in the background somewhere, but before that, she was curious.

“Ne, Optimus,” she murmured, shifting her gaze to the front window. There was not a soul on the road, only Optimus’s headlight illuminating the navy dark surrounding them. “You were gonna say something, right?”

A pause.

“I was.”

“What was it?”

“Well…” Optimus seemed to be searching for words, then spoke again. “You were alone tonight.”

“Yeah…no one would pick up. Did you get my calls?”

“No,” the mech responded. “But I did realize your absence. Rafael and Jack were having a…schoolwork review session–”

Study session.

“—and the others are scouting a mine in another country.”

That’s why he didn’t pick up. Something funky with phone regions, I bet.

“Ratchet was otherwise engaged. I asked the boys what had happened to you that you were not there, and they mentioned you were in…detainment again.”

“Yea, detention,” Miko sighed. “Ditched it early though.”

Optimus was silent again, so this time, Miko thought to fill the silence.

“Hey, Optimus? I’m…sorry if I made you worry,” she murmured, dropping her gaze a little. “I was doing alright…woulda found a way home or something.”

“Miko,” his voice sounded serious. “Are you certain of that?”

The teen thought to answer, then pressed her lips together, unable to respond again. What would she have done if he hadn’t come by?

“I sense you are troubled,” Optimus continued more softly. “Are you alright?”

Miko felt a flash of indignance, so she masked it with a scoff. “Are you kidding? I’m always good!” But her tone wavered a bit, and she felt herself grow smaller in her seat. But she continued. “What makes you ask?”

“Miko…”

“Yeah?”

“To answer your initial question, we Autobots are always worried for you three. We realize you are individuals, and that you have time and again proven strong in the face of terrifying circumstances. You especially show much strength.”

There was something else to that, so Miko waited, quietly.

“You show so much strength that…I feel as if perhaps you carry too much inside.”

Miko swallowed, feeling emotion well up inside her. Not fear, not apprehension…something stronger, deeper…raw.

“Miko, you were alone tonight. We were unaware of what you needed. For that, I am deeply sorry.”

“N-nah, it’s not…”

“It is. Did anything happen to you?”

“No, I just…” she found herself speaking without thinking. “Seemed like…everyone forgot about me. I’m used to being alone though, I guess…”

“You are not alone, Miko.” Optimus spoke with firm gentleness that seemed to level out the feelings threatening to bubble over the brim. She quickly looked out the window to her side again. “I respect what you wish to tell or not tell me. But something tells me, you were afraid tonight.”

She bit her lip.

Someone noticed. Someone saw.

But it was a relieved voice that whispered in her mind. She remained quiet, biting her lip harder.

“Are you alright, Miko?”

She knew what the question really meant.

“I was…scared, like…” she swallowed, steadying her breathing as best as she could. A tear slid down her cheek, which she quickly rubbed away. “...I dunno, something…I didn’t know what was happening, it was so…strong. So…bad…”

“I know well the emotions you speak of.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. I know it well even now. Especially now.”

He deals with so much too…but he’s so…well, I guess we all put up some face. I laugh, Optimus shuts down…whatever keeps the monster at bay.

“Don’t be scared, Miko,” he finally said gently and simply—yet with so much intent. “You are never alone.”

Miko inhaled sharply, as if debating to control it or let it happen…but only for a moment. She exhaled heavily, her face twisting as she started to cry quietly. But even as she sobbed, a smile peaked through, shimmering in her eyes.

She needed to cry, she realized. Not light tears of stress, but also the tears that she had pent up every time her heart had pounded so hard her bones hurt. The tears she pent up when she did cry and then bite her tongue to swallow them up. And it was alright.

It was freeing.

And as if reading her mind, Optimus remained quiet. But she felt his presence–more than simply knowing he was there. They didn’t really need to say much more, and spent the last of the ride to HQ in silence.

Because even if Optimus wasn’t using the same words she’d use, she knew what he meant. She always knew what the others meant to say. Robot or human, alien or not, Miko could feel it.

She knew that he wasn’t ordering her to can it, like she knew she ordered herself to.

‘Don’t be scared,’ or rather…‘it will not win. You will.’

I will.

///

#transformers #tf #tfp #transformers prime #fanfic #fanfiction #transformers prime fanfiction #miko nakadai #optimus prime #writing #writing stuff #kuniwrites #asks #requests #fic requests #ask game

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loosesodamarble · 2 months

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Hey my dear Loo

Ok for you ask game 1,2,23

Have a nice day☺️

Hey there dear Marune! I've got your questions and the answers to them! And thank you for the well wishes for my day! I hope the day/night/etc that you have is wonderful too!

..........

1) that makes me smile

This is ooooooold writing of mine. But BOY it makes me soft! I was more in the Demon Slayer fandom in the early days of my blog (as it was that series and talking ocs with a friend that got me onto Tumblr in the first place). And I wrote this birthday fic for Inosuke, because he is my fictional son./lh+j AND AAAAAHHHHH!

In the end, Shizuka ended up bringing Inosuke to her borrowed room at the mansion to read through some children’s books, courtesy of Shinobu. They sat side-by-side on her bed, the book of focus held between them. They went back and forth reading sentences and if Inosuke ever stumbled, Shizuka would get him back on track. Occasionally, Shizuka would glance at her pillow, under which her gift was hidden. The reading session lasted until evening due to Inosuke’s insistence on reading every book. “The end,” Shizuka said while closing the final book. She looked out the window and at the early night sky. The dinner is going to be late I guess. Her eyes were drawn to the pillow. Shizuka reached a hand under it and slowly slid the wrapped haori out from under. “Hey, Shizuka.” Immediately, Shizuka’s head turned at the sound of her name, her actual name. Inosuke smiled at her, differently than how he usually did. This time, his grin was soft. He slung an arm around Shizuka’s shoulders and buried his face in her hair. Shizuka felt feverish from head to toe. Her heart skipped. Her breath hitched. All because of Inosuke’s closeness. “I know I drag you around a lot but it’s 'cause I like spending time with you,” Inosuke whispered. “Especially today. It’s the first birthday I really got to have. And having you be a part of it was nice. Thanks.” Turning, Shizuka let go of the wrapped gift then embraced Inosuke. “Anything for you,” she whispered back. “Happy birthday, Inosuke.”

It like the ending of the fic (so uh spoiler alert for a fic I wrote a few years ago?). It's an unexpectedly tender moment from Inosuke and Shizuka is also reassured that she didn't need to do anything particularly special for the boy she likes to make him happy. Looking back... I'm made so soft...

2) that makes me laugh

This snippet was from a delightful piece that... if I remember correctly, you inspired me to write! Morgen takes some interesting retribution on Yami after Yami gave Nacht a bit of a harsh kick to the back (and let him fall off a roof but Yami didn't plan that).

“Give me a sec!” With that said, Yami bolted for the connected bathroom. Yami emerged a few minutes later. He saw Morgen sipping his tea in peace, utterly undisturbed. “It sounded like you were being murdered in there,” was all Morgen remarked with a blithe grin once Yami was seated. “Shut the fuck up.” The conversation resumed but Yami found that he could hardly concentrate with the churning sensation in his gut that persisted. He tried to chat through the pain, to wait for it to pass, but it didn’t. In fact, it got worse as time went on. In fact, over and over, Yami kept going to the bathroom to relieve himself. Morgen had to be a saint to put up with Yami’s situation. Sitting patiently and overhearing whatever unfortunate sounds escaped the confines of the bathroom. All with that same pleasant smile. After Yami’s seventh round with the porcelain throne, Yami collapsed on his couch. His ass was in pain, he didn’t embarrass easily but he felt the weight of shame on his shoulders, and worse yet, he ran out of toilet paper. Yami glared at Morgen. “God dammit, Morgen, what the fuck did you put in that tea?” Morgen smiled and set down his teacup before leaning back in the armchair he sat in. “Well I steeped the tea leaves for a little longer than usual to strengthen the flavor. I heard that bay leaves richen the flavor as well, in a subtle and earthy way since you’re not a fan of sweetness. There’s a dash of cinnamon for spicy sweetness. And…” Morgen touched a finger to his chin in thought. After a—clearly staged, who was Morgen kidding—moment of thought, he perked up and exclaimed, “Extra strength laxatives!” Yami didn’t need to think twice. He swept aside the set up on the coffee table then lunged at Morgen while swinging. Morgen leapt out of the way in the nick of time. “Don’t run, you little shit stain! The fuck are you drugging my tea for?!”

This characterization is a little different than what I've ultimately settled on after writing for him longer. He's more conniving and lacks the airheadedness that I attributed to him later on. But still, I still like how cool Morgen plays it and just drops the whole laxatives thing on Yami.

23) that was inspired by a work from another medium (music, visual art, dance, etc.)

My fic Firefly's Dance was inspired by Kenshi Yonezu's song "Night Bugs on a Rainy Street" specifically. Some of the imagery in the fic even draw from lines the song. The upbeat yet deeply romantic tone of the song really spoke to me and how I view Morgen and Josele's relationship.

The two of them stood there, simply taking in the view of the outside. Leaves and flower petals quivered as raindrops hit them from above. The light from indoors seeped out through the clear glass, giving a corner of the garden a gentle glow, and once in a while reflected on the falling raindrops which created a flickering, twinkling effect. A faint haze filled the air, dampening the colors of the world. It was not, however, a dull or sad muting of the world. The faded colors felt more relaxed, as if taking a respite from being so vibrant. Morgen understood how it felt. After a long day of giving his all, he would let go of whatever was left of his energy and surrender himself to exhaustion. As he gazed at the garden, he felt his hand shaking, ever so slightly. He glanced down. With their hands intertwined, he wasn’t sure if it was actually his or Josele’s that was trembling. “Josie…” “Hm…?” “Are you perhaps cold?” Josele didn’t feel any colder than usual but Morgen wanted to be sure. “I’m fine…” Smiling, Morgen gave Josele’s hand a squeeze. He supposed it didn’t matter. In fact, the ambiguity of it brought him a strange comfort. Perhaps it was even the both of them. “The rain is lovely, isn’t it?” Morgen said, taking the half-step needed to close the distance between himself and Josele.

And later in the fic when they start dancing in the rain! AKJSHFKJAHETHAILEUTHILAEUHTIUH! FERAL FOR THE IMAGERY! I'M SO IN LOVE WITH TWO BEING SO ROMANTIC!

#questions from the ask box #ask game #soda asides #marune the devil delight

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