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#.....posts I wrote in the middle of the night and forgot about and found in my drafts the next day.......
asleepinawell · 1 year
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me explaining the rpr rotation: so these are your single swishes and then here are the multi swish swishes and then you can gothify to get cool pink swishes and swish swishes and here's the button I never remember to hit between pulls
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strawberryya · 7 months
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notice me!
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pairing: jihoon x reader
synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!
word count: 2.1k
genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.
rating: 18+
a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii
network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main
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You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 
“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 
You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 
He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 
Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 
“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 
“A nun?!” He gasped out. 
“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 
He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.
Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 
“I’m sorry?” 
You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)
Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 
“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”
He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 
He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 
“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 
“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 
“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”
Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 
“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 
Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 
“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 
“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 
He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 
“Shut up.”
His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 
“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 
You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 
“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 
You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 
His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 
“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 
“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 
“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 
“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 
You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 
He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 
When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 
He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 
“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 
Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 
“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 
“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”
You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 
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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕
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jensen-ackles-girl · 4 months
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It's here, my seventh Christmas drabble! Wanted to write something that involved the holiday season since it's December wrote this number last night.
Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this.
Summary: spending Christmas day with your husband jensen as your three children jj,Zeppelin,and arrow open their Christmas presents
Warnings: Warnings: tooth rotting fluff,cuteness overload
Pairing: jensen Ackles x fem!reader, Ackles children x fem!reader, jensen Ackles x Ackles children, daddy!jensen, Mommy!y/n
The snowflakes danced gracefully in the air, creating a winter wonderland outside our cozy home. As y/n sipped on a warm cup of cocoa, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. It was Christmas morning, and she was about to witness the joy and happiness that only this magical day could bring. Jensen Ackles her husband, stood by her side, his eyes filled with love and adoration. They had been through so much together, and this Christmas was a reminder of the beautiful life they had built. Their three children, JJ, Zeppelin, and Arrow, were still fast asleep, unaware of the surprises that awaited them. As the clock struck 7 a.m., the sound of little footsteps echoed through the hallway. The children burst into the living room, their eyes wide with wonder.
The room was adorned with a wonder. And twinkling lights, a majestic tree standing tall in the corner, and presents piled high beneath it. JJ, their eldest, with her golden curls and sparkling blue eyes, was the first to dive into the sea of gifts. Her laughter filled the room as she unwrapped each present, her excitement contagious. Zeppelin, their middle child, followed suit, his mischievous grin lighting up the room. And little Arrow, their youngest, clapped her tiny hands in delight, her eyes shining with innocence. As they watched their children's faces light up with joy, she couldn't help but steal glances at Jensen. His presence alone filled her heart with warmth and love. His strong arms wrapped around her, and she felt a sense of completeness that only he could bring.
Jensen and y/n had been through ups and downs, but their love had always prevailed. He was her rock, her partner in crime, and the love of her life. Together, they had created a family filled with laughter, love, and endless memories. As the day unfolded, they reveled in the simple pleasures of being together. They played board games, built snowmen in the backyard, and indulged in a feast fit for kings. Laughter echoed through the halls, and the love they shared enveloped them like a warm embrace. In the evening, as the children drifted off to sleep. Jensen and y/n found ourselves snuggled on the couch, the glow of the Christmas lights casting a soft, romantic ambiance. They exchanged heartfelt gifts, each one a testament to their love and devotion.
As the night drew to a close, y/n couldn't help but reflect on the day's events. It had been a Christmas filled with love, laughter, and cherished memories. The smiles on their children's faces were etched in her mind, a reminder of the joy that family brings. As she lays in bed, Jensen's arms wrapped around her, she whispered a silent prayer of gratitude. Their love story had been woven into the fabric of this magical day, and she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.
Note: Here's another drabble I wrote early in the month but got busy and forgot to post will definitely be posting more that I didn't get around to posting as I got busy. Hope you enjoy as always feedback is appreciated.
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venusenvvvy · 1 year
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FOREWARD
Introduction:
If you’re reading this, you either A) came across my fan-fiction on AO3 and are mildly curious about what you’ve just stumbled across, or B) you followed me a few years ago and forgot about it, and now this post is on your dashboard and you have zero idea who I am or what’s going on.
If you belong to group B and would like an inkling of context, feel free to check out Burning Houses now. It’s probably the most out there Harry Potter fanfiction concept you’ve seen in a while.
The Tragic Backstory:
In September of 2020 I was 17, and I had spent the past three years alone, in a walk in closet that had been repurposed to be by bedroom. I won’t get into the specifics of why. I spent my days and nights laying in bed and alternating between daydreaming and reading, until that’s what my life became.
Up until then I had posted a few short stories - things I had written quickly in the middle of the night and never expected to get much attention. The only thing extraordinary about me in my every day life was how utterly invisible I could become.
By the time September of 2020 rolled around I had been reading Harry Potter fan-fiction for years - this was before the explosion of the Marauders fandom, with the posting of ATYD, and then subsequently the resurgence of Harry Potter with Tiktok edits and the media attention garnered by JK Rowling - and the place was a graveyard. It was comforting, in a way. Just me, rooting through old tropes and ideas. My favourites were time travel stories that found Harry older, wiser and more powerful. Or the ones where everyone found out how the Dursleys had been treating Harry and, horrified, saved him from his barren, locked bedroom with the bars on the window, giving the Dursleys’ a piece of their mind the entire time.
Yes. I’m aware of the parallels.
The problem with dead fandoms is that you run out of content. So I started writing a story - just for me - about this daydream I had been having for the past several weeks. I wrote it in the notes app of my phone every night laying in bed until four in the morning, and then I woke up in the afternoon to start again.
Then, due to circumstances outside of my control, my phone was destroyed, and I lost 100,000 words of content and months of work. It was like losing a diary - the story was how I channeled my thoughts, how I expressed my feelings, wrestled with philosophies and debated by beliefs.
But there was one thing that survived - the first chapter. I wanted to make sure I could always read it no matter what, so I posted it publicly - stapled it to the wall of an empty room - and tried to rebuild what I’d lost.
And then people read it.
Three Years Later:
People read it, and liked it. They saw this thing that represented me and they liked it, and they wanted to know when there was going to be more. So I panicked, and I wrote another chapter and posted it. And then after months of people asking me when there was going to be more I posted >another< chapter.
But it didn’t feel right. It felt like strangers reading my diary. What had started as a (arguably unhealthy) coping mechanism for dealing with a reality I couldn’t face had become a silly little story for my readers, and I was beginning to feel embarrassed that I was taking it so seriously. That it was more for me than a story that I had made up, about these books with dull characters and a plot so tedious that I couldn’t make it through reading. This series that was beginning to draw more and more criticism as time went on, and JK Rowling continued to dig the franchises grave deeper and deeper.
Three years later has found me at 20 years old, a better writer, with a lot about my life having changed. I don’t need to read those fan-fictions plots to escape anymore, or daydream about going back in time, or being someone else - I saved myself in a very real, tangible way. I came out as trans and fought to be myself. I’m writing this essay from my own apartment with all the space I want. I attend regular therapy, and own a beautiful puppy service dog named Sirius. I go hiking and to parties, and I sleep at night then I go to work in the morning. I live in a world outside of my own head, surrounded by this beautiful life that I’ve built for myself from nothing.
So Why Start Over?
There’s a lot of reasons. I want to rewrite this story because I’ve gained more experience in life. Because I want to start again, this time without being embarrassed of how much this story means to me, or how long it’s taking me to finish, or being ashamed of taking it this seriously at all.
I want to challenge the idea of fan-fiction as being silly, or unoriginal, or illegitimate - something that needs to be hidden, or kept as a stepping stone before writing “real” novels. I want to be writing this story for the explicitly, publicly stated purpose of it being art on its own, because I have things to say that I want to express specifically through this artistic medium.
I wanted you to know more about me - the stranger behind the words, the man behind the curtain - what this story was really about for me, and where it came from. And now you do.
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phoebe-delia · 8 months
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I honestly can't remember if I already sent you these or not, so 10, 18 & the wildcard option for those fic asks, PLS AND THANK YOUUUUU! The usual rules apply - if no joy etc, swap them out!! xox
Helloooo!! Thanks for sending, friend!!
10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?
Yup for sure. I'll do both positive and negative here, to be fair to myself lol.
Stars By the Pocketful, my wireless from this year, really did not get the response I'd hoped for. It honestly sent me into a period of some of the lowest writing confidence I've had in a while, to the point where I nearly quit writing 😂. It has gotten some more attention since reveals, but as you very well know from the number of times I whined in your DMs, I struggled a lot with this one. But, luckily, I'm very fortunate to have lovely friends like you to give me perspective, including the fact that I can be proud of a fic for the writing itself and not the stats.
On the positive side, "Grow Up Together" has the most notes/reactions of ANY fic I've posted across both Tumblr and AO3, and I wrote it in the middle of the night about to go to sleep. I'm still astonished at the number of notes it has, because honestly, I feel like the writing is pretty average for me 😂😂😂😂 (I'm not knocking it, but I feel like my writing is normally like that and almost NONE of my fics have NEAR that amount of attention. So idk.)
18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?
Okay I just found one line that I TOTALLY forgot about from an old drabble but here's this:
"He’d been a Death Eater. The least he could do now was recycle."
Aaannd instead of choosing another question for the wildcard I'm gonna say another line I'm proud of. This is from, predictably, my favorite fic I've ever written (seriously if you only read one thing I've written, I hope it's this fic) "this is me trying."
“I think that maybe if I talked to you I could see how you did it.”
“How I did what?”
Harry drew in a lungful of air and expelled it in a drawn-out breath.“Figured out the difference between who you were supposed to be, and who you really are.”
Thanks so much for the ask, friend!!
Send me an ask from this list!
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aurorarosesposts · 6 months
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Double Face (Detective Conan)
Hello everyone!!! It's been a long ass time since I've posted some original post! But you know I'm alive thanks to my consent rebloging lol. As the title suggest, this is a Detective Conan fanfic that I've wrote and I wish to share it with you to see what you think! For those who don't know, Detective Conan is about a teenage boy name Shinichi Kudo transforming into a child with the alias Conan Edogawa. I really recommend you all check the manga out if you haven't already!
However, this fic isn't about the main character, but Kogoro Mouri, father of Shinichi's love interest, Ran Mouri. He's portrayed as a lousy detective, but it is canon that he's a skilled marksman. Now how skill? Idk but that's what fanfic are for!
Now this is getting pretty long, so I'll be placing my thoughts and inspiration at the end, hope you enjoyed!
Edit: Almost forgot, if this is too OOC sorry!
Premise:
Conan Edogawa was tagging along for a case with Kogoro Mouri when things got out of control. Now in a hostage situation, Conan was going to help when Kogoro pulled out a gun and wiped the floor with a bullet to spared.
Sometimes Conan forgets that Korogo was a cop in his youth.
Now that Conan thinks about it, Hibari wasn't lying about his luck. It's like the fates themselves are having a blast at tormenting him.
In a dimly lit warehouse, tension hung heavy in the air as he and Kogoro Mouri found themselves ensnared in a perilous hostage situation.
It all started when Conan decided to tagged along with the lousy detective to another case in Osaka that he was working on, and since Ran wasn't home for a girl's night out, Conan was itching to solved a case. But this case was a little different then the other cases that the detective -- mostly Conan -- worked on.
Said case was about a missing woman who was married off to a rich family. The husband wanted Kogoro to find her but the man's mother thinks she staged all of this to get the ransome money and run away with who the old lady suspected to be the missing woman's side lover. Just a typical case, right?
Well, the older woman was right, but what everyone didn't expect was the side lover being a gang leader of a notorious gang in Osaka disguised as a gardener in the manor where the family lived. Seeing that the gigs is up, the leader and his  gang took the family and the two detectives as hostages and drived them to a empty warehouse were we are now. With the missing woman laying dead beneath them, having be used as a pawn for the gang's schemes.
The quite ticking of his watch seemed to echo the urgency of the predicament they got themselves into. Conan can hear sirens from outside, the cops are already on the scene; the gang weren't very subtle in kidnapping them. The boy could hear the exchange between the detectives outside and the captors. He could hear the voice of Heizo Hattori, the chief of the Osaka Police Department, on the other side.
Now, Conan was glad that he didn't invite Heiji into the investigation, knowing what he knows now, the gang members would certainly put two and two together about Heiji Hattori. Conan wouldn't want to put him in that sort of danger, even if Heiji could take care of himself.
Although a strategist, Conan felt the weight of the situation pressing upon him. He can't seem to find a way to get everyone to safety without any bloodshed. There's at least five gang members acting as guards around them and two at the entrance; one of them strangely has an empty gun holder that he somehow doesn't seemed to notice.
All of them are at the middle of the warehouse, seating on chairs. Some of the more restless hostages, like the old lady, were tied with ropes but most are freed from binding, but are too sacred to do anything; both he and Kogoro were not tied. There are boxes at the back of the warehouse, but it's too far away for any of them to go without immediately getting spotted.
Even if they can, Conan can't risked it, and as the shouting outside get louder, the Detective of The East was racing against time to find a solution before they all ended up like the poor woman underneath their feets. The captors were growing increasingly agitated, and the hostages were trembling in fear. One gang member eventually put a gun on the dead woman's husband's head, much to the horror of the hostages, having been fed up with all the waiting.
In a desperate bid to buy time, Conan discreetly signaled to Kogoro, who was beside him, hoping to convey a plan with him without alerting the perpetrators. He may be lazy, but Conan knows Kogoro is just smart enough to created a distraction.
However, much to Conan's surprise, Kogoro's usually drowsy eyes gleamed with a resolute focus. Now that he thought about it, the little detective never heard anything from the lazy detective this whole time during the ride here.
Both of their eyes met; Kogoro bends down a little, making sure no one notice but him and said, "Get them to safety."
In one swift, unexpected motion, Kogoro reached into his coat and pulled out a concealed handgun. The metallic click as he loaded a cilp into the gun resonated through the warehouse, silencing the room.
Time seemed to freeze as the man that Conan once knew, with a calm demeanor that defied his typical boisterouness, took aim with precision. A single shot echoed, hitting a lamp perilously close above one of the guard at the entrence and raining down glass shards to said guard.
One hit his eye and he screams.
The room erupted in chaos as Kogoro's unexpected display of marksmanship left everyone stunned. Stunned enough that the once lazy detective kicked down the gang member that was holding a gun on the husband's head. With another swift kick, he took down another trying to shoot at him.
Conan, momentarily taken aback, shakes off his shock and focus on taking the hostages to the boxes for cover. It's not ideal, but with bullets flying by, it's better to be here then the open.
Getting the granny out of her binds, all of them took shelter behind the boxes. With a peak, Conan could see the cold determination behind Kogoro's eyes as he mercilessly took down eche and every one of the guard with eased. The once sluggish detective had unleashed a dormant expertise that transformed the dire situation into their favour. As the hostage-takers were struggling to even get a shot on him, Kogoro maintained his unwavering composure. Conan took covered as a stray bullet passed by. Screams of pain echoed through the walls, then silence.
After everything became quite, Conan and the others were left speechless as they peek their heads out to look at the aftermath.
Kogoro was left standing on the spot where they used to be, gun still in hand, with all seven bodies of the the captors on the floor. They're mostly alive, with some groaning in pain, but none are bleading much, meaning Kogoro didn't directly shoot at them. The detective himself was unharmed; not a single strach on him at all. In fact, the guy didn't even break a sweat!
Looking at his face, Kogoro's face was expressionless; eyes dulled and cold, like he's not in his right mind right now. He didn't hit his head, did he?
Before Conan can called Kogoro out, the doors to the warehouse swung open. But instead of the cops like Conan had hoped, it was the gang leader; Heiji Hattori in his right arm, with a gun on the other, pointing straight at his head.
Shit, he should have known Heiji would get himself involved.
"Wha- You! What have you done with my men?!" The gang leader was enraged, with cops behind them, pointing their guns at him, and a very pissed off chief of the Osaka Police Department ready to strike, he's been pushed to a tight corner. Both of his commanders were right besides him, guns drawn, ready to strike as well.
Conan knows that one wrong move on both sides would make Heiji's head paint the walls.
It was tensed, both parties were waiting on an order; Except Kogoro Mouri. Composed and silent, he look at the gang leader straight in the eyes, fearless at the man. Conan couldn't see Kogoro's face as turned his back on the hostages, but the little detective an clearly see the red face of the gang leader and the uncertain looks of his commanders. The policemen were uneasy with the situation as well. Heizo looks ready to attack, but his partner, Ginshiro Toyama, stops him. Heiji looks uncomfortable, looking directly towards Conan liked a puppy looking for answers, before a gunshot rang out.
Before anyone could react, the ringleader was punched right in the face by Kogoro, knocking both Heiji out of his grasps and himself. With inhuman speed, Kogoro took aim and shot at one of the commander's hand, making him dropped his gun before being kicked at the stomach and grabbing him by the shirt before literally throwing the man at the other commander.
In less then a minute, Kogoro had wiped the floor with swift and persistence that everyone was left baffled.
Kogoro, eyeing the down leader, rised the gun he was holding. This alarmed Conan and the leading investigators; Ginshiro stepped forward, being the closest, going into position if needed. Conan ran towards the red and blue lights, but not before checking on Heiji to see if he was okay.
To their relief, Kogoro instead unclipped the gun. Emptying the clip, only a single bullet fell out; He had almost emptied out the cilp.
Heizo Hattori and Kogoro Mouri locked eyes with each other for a moment, before the chief turned away and barked orders to the officers. As if breaking a trance, the officers scramble to move and followed the orders given. Ginshiro took the gun from Kogoro's hands before adding as evidence and leaving to helped with the hostages.
With the immediate threat now neutralized, Conan and Kogoro coordinated with the authorities to secure the scene and apprehend the criminals. Conan knows that Kogoro was out of it, having had an adrenaline-fueled ordeal just a half an hour ago; finally tiredness seems to seeped in the old detective's body.
Maybe that's why Heiji invinted them to stay at his place for the night -- and totally not because he was a bit gulity for letting things get out of hand -- and his father even agreed with it, telling them that he'll let some officers to grabbed their stuff from the manor that they were staying at.
Now in the car with the Heiji and Conan in the backseat and the two adults at the front, having done with the investigation, the young Osaka asked a question that was currently plaguing the young detective's mind, "Hey old man, when did ya get so good with guns? Never seen ya talked about it before."
Kogoro was in the passenger's seat, head against the window as he sighed, as if knowing what's about to happened, "I was in the police force, you know."
"Yeah, but I never seen skills like you do before, what gives?"
"... I was the top of my class, in the force. Once landing every single shot in the middle during training."
"You must be really lucky that time," They could barely heard the mumbled from the tired man, "What was that?"
"... It wasn't once... It was every shooting training," The car went into a stop, having stopped at a traffic light. Heizo Hattori side eye the man besides him; the boys at the back were bugging their eyes out, "Every- Wait, you're telling me ya never missed a shot? Like ever??"
"Well, if you don't count the time that a friend of mine distracted me and made me miss my shot, then yeah, I've never missed once."
"Wait," Conan was now intrested, "Were you at the top of every class?"
"Not everything, but most of the physically ones, yeah, I was at top most of the time," The boys were ecstatic, this was the first time the man talked about his past in the force. As the car starts moving again, the boys started to asks more questions, and Kogoro was more then happy to answered them. Until one of them asked why he'd quit. Suddenly, the once animated Kogoro became deadly silent, and the boys knew they screwed up.
Heizo, who was listening in asked what's wrong; Kogoro just gave a straind smile to him before speaking up.
"It's... It's a long story, something I'm not comfortable talking about," He said. Conan automatically asked, "Is it about Ran-neesan?" He was swiftly hit in the head by Heiji, "Now's not times for ya interrogation, Kudo," The Osaka quietly hissed. But Kogoro laughed, grabbing the two youngsters' attention.
"No, it isn't about Ran, maybe," Kogoro placed his head against the window again, "It's one of many reason why I left, but not the main one, and no, It's definitely not about Eri either," He added, ending the conversation then and there.
Both detectives of east and west decide not to pushed it any further, if the glaring from Heiji's father were anything to go by, -- 'As if he wasn't interested in it too,' Heiji huffed -- but the mood wasn't all lost. They have some small talk from time to time. Even so, their interests peaked; They're detectives, after all, and after everything that has happened, both boys wanted to know about Kogoro's past achievements that made into the man they saw hours ago; from a jolly man to a cold and calculating one in the blink of an eye.
And Kogoro knew this very well, as he continues to listen in. It's only a matter of time before they do. All he's asking is that they won't make a fuss about it.
The last thing he needs is to be put on the papers again for that.
--- Fin ---
And that's it folks! I hope you like it!! You know, I was inspired by a fic I've read in the past at ao3. The story was about Kogoro using Akai's (one of the supporting characters -- he's an FBI agent) shoulder to shoot with a rifle hidden in a bouquet of flowers. I thought it was so cool at the time and made me fall in love with the character! Sadly, that's all I remember, but no matter what I've tried, I can't seem to find it anywhere! I don't even remember the name, which suck! If you know what I'm talking about, pls give a link to it, I really wanna read it again!
Now I believe that's all from me. Hope you like it and have a great day!!!
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babygirlyusuf · 7 months
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tagged by @lazaefair @non-un-topo & @nicolos ! thank you friends <333
Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.
i have almost 40 fics posted on ao3 so i just picked every 4th one! also wow i completely forgot that i wrote some of these... and i love all of them!! the last one is just a fic i'm fond of <3
restless
He smiles back. “You deal first.” She does, silently. As he picks up his cards and starts to arrange his hand, she says, “I’m not upset about anything, in particular. Not sad, really. I just felt… lonely, I guess. All of a sudden. Which is silly, in a houseful of people.” Nicky admires her for how self-aware she is.
i know your beat, baby
“All for you,” Joe managed to get out. “Yeah? S’all for me?” Nicky breathed, ghosting his fingers over where Joe’s nipples barely showed through the fabric. “You all for me, sweetheart?”
the rest is memory — (written in collab!)
Ciro’s kids, Julie and Oliver, finally get bored of chucking freezing slush at each other. They light up when they see Nicky and their smiles get even wider when they spot the pastry box under his arm. They barrel into Nicky’s legs with delighted shouts of, “Uncle Nico! What did you bring us?”
i'll choose tenderness (and you)
Joe smirks, and gets up off his stool and — there’s no other word for it — saunters over to where Nicky is standing in the doorway. There’s a soft swell to his stomach that’s only recently come about (Nicky went soft around the middle much sooner). Nicky’s a little obsessed with it, how it shows how comfortable they are and how long they’ve been this comfortable. 
besotted
Joe waited until he got down to the street before burying his face in his hands and letting out a resounding, “Fuck.” Booker was wrong— Joe was worse than pathetic. He was an idiot. Who went around kissing their friends like that? Joe apparently, unable to keep his feelings in check. 
love, for you
“Yusuf,” Hanif says, “I’m not sure we’re looking for the same thing. I don’t tend to do—” he gestures between them, “— this with the same person, often. I thought you were going back to Mahdia soon, so I thought you understood.” Yusuf’s throat and chest suddenly feel tight. All the lightness he’d been experiencing only a moment ago flees from his body, leaving a sense of dread and realization in its wake. 
only our love
Nicky can’t take it a moment longer. He strides forward and wraps his arms around Joe’s waist, pressing in as close as he can to the curve of Joe’s back. His hands slip under Joe’s sweater to palm the softness of Joe’s stomach, to squeeze a little tighter. Joe barely startles, just leans back into him. “Nico. You’re up.”
found you instead
What Joe likes even more is their conversation afterwards. He’d expected Nicky to want to leave right away like most guys he met on the app, but Nicky cuddles up to him afterwards and asks Joe thoughtful questions about himself.  He’s a much better conversationalist than he’d been on the app.
there is no space left uncovered
“Good?”  Nicky finishes chewing too. He tastes the warmth of cumin, the bite of chillies, and the familiar sweetness of Joe’s lips. He brushes their noses together, then kisses the freckle that adorns the apple of Joe’s cheek. “Good.”
the one who waits
“Good night, Nicolò.” Nicolò turns away, and Yusuf catches him by the arm. Nicolò looks down at the points where they’re touching. Yusuf drops his arm. “You can call me Yusuf. When we’re alone.” Nicolò nods, biting his bottom lip. “Good night, Yusuf.”
tagging (and probs double tagging): @nicelytousled @werebearbearbar @aphroditestummyrolls @knoepfchen
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wrecursion · 6 months
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woke up in the middle of the night to write down this dream:
i was exploring a trash dump behind an abandoned house on a street. then i realized that a part of my glasses fell off and i traced back my foot stems to look for it. i went to a part where i door was used as a bridge over a hole. then a voice came out of the hole, a girl. she was reciting a poem, a poem that went viral on the internet and became kind of a basic bitch poem, just too whimsical and relatable. it's about a boy who used to buy books from a hermit, and never found time to actually read them. years passed, the boy grew up, became a working adult, forgot about that whole thing, and then he met the hermit again. he was embarrassed by how many books he never got around to reading. the hermit remembered him, saw how unhappy he was, and suggested he become a hermit as well, so he does. then the cycle continues, and a new boy buys books from a new hermit.
i already found my glasses part at that point, but stayed to listen to the end. online i only ever read the first half of the poem, before the time skip. so i deduced that the voice in the hole was the author herself.
also, on the walls around the dump there was graffiti, and some phrases had verbose comments written near them in chalk, in small cursive handwriting, using academic language, like annotations in a book. there were bits of the wall where the colored stucco chipped off, revealing the white bricks, and there the writing seemed to switch to ink pen. i assume the same poet wrote those as well.
also there were stuffed toys of patrick and squidward strewn about, but not sponge bob. there was some commentary about the thematic parallels between them but it's also heavily implied that the author ships them.
the poet then advertised her youtube channel, where she in turn advertised her location, encouraging people to come see her in person. it her videos she recites her poems but also she has videos of her dog. i think she posted videos of her dog partially because she needed to appeal to a wider audience and pets are a big draw, while poetry isn't really something that people who aren't already poetry enthusiasts seek out. also, in the video i watched she wore a dress based on a maid outfit but with more decorative elements, and again, is that something she just does or is it so that the audience is drawn to her channel?
overall she left an ambivalent impression on me. i enjoyed her more avant garde projects, but the ones that became popular were very conventional, and she leaned into that, so she was kind of a sellout, but like, can you blame her?
after that encounter i thought that as an artist maybe i should also become a hermit, like it's a hot new social media. in my own trash dump i could display physical pieces that don't look as good on camera, i thought. (which is already something that exists in real life, it's called an art gallery)
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rewritingtrauma · 1 year
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On the run
There's this line from Pulp's Common People which narrates so many moments of our lives recently:
"You will never understand how it feels to live your life with no meaning or control and with nowhere left to go..."
This line is on near constant repeat amidst the ongoing class war being waged here in the UK by the Tories against the rest of us. This line also crops up with the increasing infractions, misunderstandings, and challenging encounters we have with our middle class neighbours... And recently, I've been waking up in the middle of the night to it.
I'm writing this post at 2am on one such occasion, woken by ghosts, steeped in those feelings of meaninglessness and lack of control. It's partly the ghosts doing but it is also how their malevolence, their near-constant-threat-of-violence intersect with what is happening politically and economically here, it is how those with power and money are in control of our fates and unfailingly decide to do what will bring us the most harm...dismantling our networks and institutions of care and support... starving the working people... demonising refugees, the poor, disabled, LGBQT+ and women... dismantling peoples rights of expression and protest... launching all out war on nature... taking away pensions... all the while breaking the law themselves, pedalling double lives of corruption and money laundering... It is not the ghosts of the past that are keeping me awake at night now, though the feelings they elicit are the same: panic, overwhelm, fear, and desperation... Now, it is the hungry ghosts in parliament and private jets who are giving me nightmares... It is Rishi Sunak, Nadhim Zahawi, Suella Braverman, Jeremy Hunt, Boris Johnson and Michael Gove who are giving me another sleepless night... Austerity and the dismantling of the public sector are powerful war-machines of trauma - physical, mental, and emotional. I only hope the war criminals will be brought to justice one day.
------
What I forgot when I first wrote this post, however, is a crucial piece which also changes (perhaps rewrites) the perspective on the situation... The next part of that line from Common People...
"...You are amazed that they exist and they burn so bright you can only wonder why"
Whilst we may be subject to a tyrannical system which robs us of meaning or control, whilst many of us may be subjected to the personal traumas wrought by men who are themselves, in part, products of a tyrannical and traumatising system, we are luminous, and we are many. I, we, have been so hard wired to focus on the negatives, the threats, that we often forget this crucial piece. The tyranny and violence of those in power does not have to define our narratives about ourselves, about others, or how we might engage with this moment, here and now. There can be wonder, play, magic to be found, everywhere, if we can just open our eyes to it. Flickering, perhaps, but always here, under the surface, in the space between things, in this animating breath... And it is this moment, this acquisition of a beautiful truth of 'nowness', where our seeds of power are, where they begin to grow. One breath at a time.
As our friends 3 year old reminded us the other day, with a serious tone:
"But EVERYTHING is fun"
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masarukitkat · 1 year
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CW: conversation about death topic
So I forgot that I wrote this…someone just liked this comment that I made on this post (on the Book of Faces) that Markiplier made back on November 14, 2021 - it was the one year anniversary of when Unus Annus - Mark and Ethan’s daily pet project that started November 14 2019 and went until November 14 2020 - had come to an end. They ended it right at midnight on a live stream.
When Mark made his post with that picture with Ethan and he said “Don’t cry because it’s over. Cry because it happened.” it reminded me all over again about everything that I had felt when I watched every episode, every video that those two put out on that YouTube channel. Because here’s the thing: they didn’t just end the videos - they deleted the whole channel. Videos and all.
They didn’t save them on a hard drive. They didn’t save them on a cloud. They’re no where. They requested that people not save them anywhere. They are meant to not stay alive for a reason. This pet project, Unus Annus, was meant to teach us all, including them, something. And I feel like I walked away with something very much learned.
And I wanted to share my comment that I left under that post with you all today:
“There’s a lot that I could say about their project, Unus Annus. It was a year long project that started two years ago and ended a year ago. It was a YouTube channel that these two guys made and posted on every day for a whole year and then deleted the whole channel exactly a year after it started. It taught us, during the worst parts of the pandemic, to appreciate every day as if it was your last. It asked the big questions. Like, what would you do if today was your last day? What would you say? Who would you spend it with? Appreciate every day that you have because some day…it will be your last. Someday you will die. Someday I will die. So…live every single day as if it was your last. And it teaches us that everything has an end. And when an ending happens…cry, not because it has ended…cry because it happened.
Their project was perfectly timed. It happened during a time when a lot of endings happened. And during a time, I think, we needed it the most. It gave me laughter when all I wanted to do was scream and cry into a dark void of despair. They made me smile when I found it the hardest to do so. They single handedly helped to keep me from a very deep depression. It gave me something bright to look forward to every day for a whole year. And that’s something that I will forever be grateful for.
For a lot of people, it was just a silly YouTube channel. But for so many other people, myself included, it was a ray of sunshine in the middle of a very very long night.
So, on this, the first anniversary of the end of Unus Annus…let us remember to appreciate every day. Because someday, it will be our last one. For everything must come to an end.
Memento Mori.”
- November 14, 2021
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amaounghususssy · 17 days
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I think I just became a pariah on an mspfa fandom
There's this mspfa called deadlock that is like really fucking amazing and I read the whole thing in one sitting and t was like 700 pages and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Anyways 2 days later after my second readthrough I get to the end and go to the new pages that were added after I finished it the first time and keep in mind this thing has been updating for 8 months before I found it. On the page, the creator said they were unhappy with where it was going and was rebooting the whole thing from the start and unlisting the old one. If you haven't experienced content grief let me tell you it is horrible especially when the obsession is fresh. I kind of freaked the fuck out I admit and even though I knew the new one was probably going to turn out to be better, I was still planted firmly in the anger stage of grief at the time and commented something along the lines of "(character): do nothing. Nothing matters since that comic you like got rebooted" and then kind of immediately left and forgot about that comment. I'm sorry I swear I was in a bad place and it was the middle of the night. The next day I checked my notifications and saw that someone tagged me saying more or less "SHUT UP (USERNAME) NOBODY CARES" and it ratioed the hell out of me. Fight or flight kicks in and I delete my comment but the angry one still has my username in it to call me out with and I kind of felt like actual garbage for a while. There was another comment from the creator and I don't know if it was in response to mine but it pretty much said (regarding the decision to reboot) "I write for myself not other people" and i'm a visual thinker as soon as I see the comment I made, the angry one, and that one in conjunction my mind conjures a picture of an angry criminal or something (me) being hauled away by the cops and screaming "I'LL GET YOU BACK FOR THIS" at a tearful child (the creator) while the creator's parent (angry commenter) says "never go near my child again or you're dead, you hear me?" And I couldn't get that image out of my head for a while. Sucked. Anyways after deleting the comment I don't know why but I still felt like idk expressing this somewhere. I went into an unrelated fanventure's comments and AFTER THINKING IT OVER SO I DON'T SAY ANYTHING TOO REGRETFUL HOPEFULLY I just write "I can't believe (creator) rebooted deadlock". I know it sounds like I'm being dramatic going to these lengths and I probably was but you haven't read this thing man. Nobody reacts to the comment so mission accomplished I guess.
A couple days pass to today, and I've recovered to an extent. Not sure how much of an extent but the change was noticeable I guess. Basically I go on the deadlock discord and it has this channel where people can plug their own random mspfas for whatever reason. I decide why the hell not and do that. This is where the real unbelievable shit happens. As soon as I post the link and a quick message about having posted it there, someone types the exact comment. That I wrote on the other fanventure. It was like "page 349, 9 Apr 2024, (username), I can't believe (creator) rebooted deadlock". This was SECONDS after I make a message in the discord. You can't make this shit up. I said "What" and the other person never responded. Nobody else was on that channel. I know it wasn't a bot because they had a normal bio and servers and they plugged their own fanventure a ways upward in the channel. My discord username and mspfa username are completely different and there wasn't enough time by far between when I posted it and when they said that for them to click on it, click on my profile, click on my favorite fanventures, happen to select the correct one, and look at the comments, like it's an astronomically low chance. It was sburb.exe so I guess it wasn't the most obscure one it could've been so it's not out of the question that they saw it before, but like, how did they have it ready to copypaste? How did they know my discord and my mspfa are run by the same guy? The discord username is related to sburb.exe I guess and it's on the deadlock discord so maybe how many people are fans of both? But even if they did that yagami light ass deductive move how did they have it ready to copypaste and what's the fucking chance they were the only other person in that server at that time?
I waited until they got offline and deleted the "What" message so hopefully more people don't pull an fbi on me again because that message (correctly) implies I am the one that said that. Creator I'm sorry for badmouthing the deadlock reboot please don't kill me
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luminousvision · 9 months
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Sky
I sat on the worn sofas in my freshman college dorm, arms braced, heels dug, ready for the onslaught.
I don’t like trying new things. I think that’s a perfectly fine way to live.
I debated a budding politician, an eclectic consequentialist, and a chill engineer who was mostly there to watch the show. We debated for almost two hours. We waged war over broad plains of intellectual territory, through rivers of thought and the oceans of history. Ultimately, I relented. I could not defend the quest for enlightenment.
Today, I try again.
Have you ever attained the position of first, finest, best, most capable? At any skill. There are “normal” firsts, like best soccer player (Lionel Messi?), fastest runner (Usain Bolt?), best chess player (Magnus Carlsen?), but also the less obvious ones. Someone has crafted the finest clay pot. Someone has held their breath longer than anyone else. Someone has written the best poem.
I’ve attained two firsts. One was in a video game but it’s difficult to relate that experience. I’ll discuss the other one: a 6-month Kaggle competition (you can find me with a bit of Googling. I’m Miranda on The Reverse Game of Life).
By my sophomore year of college, I had lost interest in the theoretical concepts taught in my computer science classes. I wanted to escape the bubble of textbooks and go punch something real. So, I found Kaggle, a site for competitive programming, open to anyone with an internet connection. I sank my teeth into this aptly named Game of Life.
I forgot my schoolwork and sometimes forgot to eat. I wrote reams of code, debugged it, optimized it, replacing the hashing algorithm with six other variants, each a bit faster than the one before. My poor computer churned through calculations overnight, every night. I wrote it in Java and then translated it to C to speed it up. I ran out of memory and asked my dad to help me buy new computer. He told me to just write better code. Even with one hand behind my back, I continued to fight, determined to win.
After four months, I submitted my answers. I scored first place out of a hundred. The previous leader, no doubt shocked by this dark horse, sent in new answers. He almost caught up, nipping at my heels, but still held in second place. I submitted once more. I was now ahead of second place as much as second place was ahead of third. The competition would end in the middle of a physics lecture. I spammed the refresh button on the leaderboard. 11:58. 11:59. 12:00. I had won.
For anyone with a basic computer science background this Kaggle puzzle is actually extremely simple to understand. Its solution is also extremely simple to understand. This whole affair is about as complicated as holding your breath. Try to hold your breath for a minute. That’s about the difficulty of making a submission. But winning it? Try holding your breath for longer than anyone else in the history of humanity.
I’m not here to brag. I’m not here to celebrate. This isn’t about winning. This is about being the best.
This is about setting up camp at the top of Mt. Everest. I’m talking about the nod you exchange with the stranger you meet at the summit. You didn’t know him. He didn’t know you. But you each know exactly what it took to climb up to the top. And now you know each other better than anyone else who has yet to reach it.
After the Kaggle competition ended, the second place guy posted his solution. I posted mine. He gave me a nod. I nodded back. I didn’t know him. He didn’t know me. But we each thought back on the previous half year and realized we probably now knew each other better than anyone else did. 
Some bow to statues. Others worship pictures and symbols. I have no God. I have only those who reach the top. I admire only the pinnacle of mortal accomplishment. I need nothing else.
Some describe the human condition as the shared experience of billions past and present. Really, billions of people? If I want to learn something about the human condition, I want to ask the guys at the top of Everest. They seem like the kind of people who have earned the privilege of defining humanity.
Some count the number of countries they’ve traveled to, as though there is intrinsic value in diverse experiences. I admire those who put in the effort to learn new languages and cultures, which is itself an endeavor. But compare the two people. One visits every country in the world. The other never leaves Nepal, but climbs to the top of Mt. Everest.
Who experienced more of humanity? It’s not even close. 
Do you see it now?
I don’t like trying new things. I think that’s a perfectly fine way to live.
Some probably find the experience of crafting pottery and writing poetry very different. Running for local office probably appears very different from running a marathon. Sure, if you spend a few hours, or even a few months trying these things, they are probably quite different.
But I don’t care. I don’t care about the difference between your week in Spain and your week in Indonesia.
I care about the poet of five decades and the potter of five decades who quietly share a secret few of us can understand. That secret doesn’t change one bit if the poet never touches clay or the potter never holds a pen. The experienced Senator and career marathoner also carry that same secret.
I’m after that secret. It sits at the top, waiting for us.
Do you see it now? I don’t travel much. I climb. I reach for the sky.
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iwadori · 3 years
Note
Hiiii!!!! can you do like when you guys are supposed to meet up and they waited for about an hour or so and kept texting you you but you haven't replied so they thought you ditched them and got mad at you and stuff then they decided to go home and while on their way home not too far from their school they found you unconscious body with a large wound on you back and your head bleeding?.
can you pleaseease do tsukishima, yamaguchi, ushijima, bokuto (I'm sorry if that's a lot)
Haikyu Boys when you get hurt Pt 2 (Ushijima,Bokuto
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Part One Part Two Part Three
Word count: 2.6K
Genre: angst, fluff
masterlist
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Ushijima
You were having the worst week this week,  from battling a cold and your boss making you do all sorts of extra jobs (that were definitely not under your job description.) As easter was swiftly approaching you and Ushijima had your annual plans of going to the local kids community center and helping them with an easter egg hunt. But you don’t think you can manage it this year.
Ushijima gets home from practice with 4 bags just filled with easter eggs ranging from all different sizes, “woah there Toshi, you’ve got enough there too feed all of england” you laugh  
“I don’t think these eggs will be able to sustain England Y/N” he says seriously making you laugh even harder. As you were laughing, you felt another migraine come along making your cringe in pain. “Toshi, I don’t think I can do the easter egg hunt this year?”  
He sits down next to you alarmed that something is wrong, “why what happened Y/N” he asks
“I’ve been feeling terrible all week, and I even have a migraine right now” you say to him thinking he would understand.
“That’s it?” he questions thinking what you said was a joke “I think you can handle a migraine, remember we’re doing this for the kids”
His words were making you feel slightly guilty since maybe you were being over dramatic. “Y/N if it’s really ‘that bad’, i’ll make you some tea so you can feel better,” he says going into the kitchen to start on your tea. You murmur a quiet “thank you” and you end up falling asleep, hoping that by the time you wake up your head stops pounding.
As you wake up, you realise you slept all the way through the night and over to the next day as when you look at your clock it says 12:32 pm. You look at your nightstand and saw that Ushijima wrote you a note saying:  
Y/N I've left out early to set out the easter egg hunt, I’ve made you breakfast so eat up and get prepared for the event which starts at 4pm. Please don’t forget.
Sincerely – Ushijima Wakatoshi.
You chuckle at the fondness of the note, before realising your pain. Your brain felt like it was having a live concert inside that definitely was not going to end soon but you still got up prepared for the day. You didn’t want to let Ushijima or the kids down.  
When you go to the kitchen , you see the cute breakfast that Ushijima made you consisting of all of your favourite foods and with another simple note of him saying ‘ I love you. ‘ Ushijima has always been a lovely boyfriend, treating you like the queen you are always making sure that you were okay. Of course, his bluntness and his lack of social cues was something to get used to but when you did get accustomed to it, it only made you fall in love with him more.
You got ready, feeling even more sick as the piping hot shower that you usual have, did not help as when you were showering you felt heavily faint. However, you persevered since you did not want to let Ushijima down.
You finally were prepared to leave the house, with the community center being on 15 minutes walk away you were leaving out at 3:50pm since you were planning to take your car anyways. When you leave your home, you realise that you forgot your car keys so you dash up the stairs (a bit too quickly) to go and find them. Scrambling through your draws, your head is pounding harder and harder and the more it pounds the quicker your moving making you even more faint. You eventually find your keys and you’re ready to zoom to the community center but your body gave out and you pass out tumbling down the stairs landing at your front door.
Ushijima was waiting outside of the community center waiting for you to arrive it was 4:05pm and he was wondering where you were (knowing that your place was only a 10 minute drive away) he sent you a few texts asking where you were but when you don’t respond Ushijima becomes slightly annoyed, plastering a fake smile on his face and entering the community center, starting the easter egg hunt.
The easter egg hunt came to a close at 8pm and Ushijima assumed that you would’ve showed up some time in the middle of the event, but you obviously didn’t show. After making sure that all the kids left safely Ushijima decided to call and text you more and when you continuously don’t respond and your calls go to voicemail he says ‘Y/N, im really disappointed with you right now. How could you do this to me? You said you would show up, the kids were really upset, how could you be so selfish?’
He walks to your house knocking on the door, but when you don’t immediately answer he knew something must be up now, since you haven’t responded to any of his texts and calls and didn’t show up he figured there was something deeper then you just ditching the event.
He used his key to open the door, surprised when the door hit something. He tried again hitting the ‘object’ that was laying at the door again. He carefully pushes the door to make enough room for him to fit through the gap. When he entered, he was startled at the sight of you, there you lay completely knocked out with a blood stain next to your head. He knelt down next to you and touched your cheek you were extremely cold, he had to get you to a hospital stat. He called an ambulance, panicked. Worrying about how long you’ve been out for since it would have to be atleast more than 4 hours he assumed.
You woke up in a foreign room, with your head slightly stinging. You place your hand on the back of your head and wince, then you remember you need to be at the easter egg hunt so you bolt up ready to move.  
“I don’t think that’s wise for you to do that Y/N” Ushijima says to you  
“Toshi, what happened?” you ask still in pain
“It seems you fell down the stairs and hit your head” after he said that all your memories come flooding back, and you remember rushing to the community centre, looking for your keys, and then falling down the stairs and everything going black.
“I’m sorry Ushi for missing the easter egg hunt, I really tried to get there,” you say with an apologetic look on your face  
“It’s fine Y/N of course you wouldn’t of been able to get there after falling down the stairs” he says “Also, this is proof of why you shouldn’t run down the stairs”
You eventually get discharged with the doctor telling you all you need to do is rest and stay off your feet. Ushijima took the doctor's orders very seriously, becoming your loyal servant and waiting on you hand and foot, tending to your every need. He did also make you were eating healthy and taking all your medicine so you could have the best recovery possible.  
Also, after realising that this could’ve all been avoided if Ushijima didn’t guilt trip you in the first place for having a migraine, he made sure to never ignore or dismiss when you say you are ill or have anything wrong with you even if it’s a migraine, a lost limb or a simple paper cut.
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Bokuto  
The Olympics were coming up and Bokuto couldn’t be any more excited than he already was. Everything he’s talked about for the past month he manages to find a way to relate to the Olympics, and as annoying as it got sometimes you were just as excited for it as much as Bokuto was.  
Bokuto was heavily busy with extra practices so you were bored and lonely, since your boyfriend was at practice all the time so you chose to take up a new hobby. You decided to paint, although you weren’t an award-winning painter you still found joy in it. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend you had some slight unwanted attention on you: the usual fans of Bokuto that just followed you to have an extra aspect of him in their life's, or his fangirls that adored him.  
You didn’t mind the fangirls for the most part since majority of them were pretty tamed and did fawn over your relationship. However, there was the minority of fans that did make it known to you that they DID NOT like you at all. When you started posting your paintings, it seems their hate for you amplified since they always found the need to leave an astray of mean comments on your post. But that didn’t mainly bother you since you thought that they only had that energy behind the screen.
The days went by getting closer to the Olympics, with Bokuto always asking you every day “Y/N you are coming to my games, right?” to which you always replied “Of course Kou, I’m coming” which always made him smile.
When the Olympics came, you’ve went to all the games cheering Bokuto and the team on as they were winning round after round. Whilst this was going on, the group of girls that were sending you horrible messages and making mean posts about you weren’t stopping. At first, you didn’t care for them but it seems their posts only gotten worse making comments about your artwork, your face, your body type ect.  
You didn’t want to tell Bokuto as you felt that it would ruin his Olympic momentum and you thought you could handle it all on your own.  
It was nearing to the final game of the Olympics, and Bokuto was ecstatic he made sure that you promised you’d be there claiming that you was his ‘good luck’ charm.’ You were excited to go too, the feeling of watching Bokuto play was exhilarating seeing him fully in his element was great for you to see.
On the last game day, Boktuo was already at the stadium since him and the team had to be there earlier to practice and you planned to meet him there just before the game started at 4:30. You went to a florist before the match getting Bokuto the biggest boquet that you could buy.  
On your way to the stadium you here somebody whistle from behind you, you turn around and see a group of girls waiting behind you smirking. “Hi?” you say more like a question then a statement “do you want something from me?”
Some of them laugh, but the one standing at the front who you mentally lable the ‘main one’ steps closer to you and says “We want you to stay away from Bokuto” you realise that these were the girls sending you hate online for these past weeks.
Before you can even blink, the girls jump you, hitting, kicking and clawing at you. You are in pain, screaming and crying for them to stop and leave you alone. You lay there, letting them beat you up thinking that you’ll probably end up dead out of this. All you can think about is Bokuto, you didn’t get to wish him good luck, or give him your flowers (that you spent a fortune on) or even tell him that you loved him one last time.
You think the girls eventually stopped but you couldn’t tell because your body was throbbing and you hurt all over. You tried to get up still wanting to go to the match but you collapse going out cold.
Bokuto was scanning the crowd over and over for you, hoping to spot you there. But he couldn’t, he was wondering where you were getting sadder and sadder by the second since he really believed you were his good luck charm and he probably wouldn’t be able to win without at least seeing your face once.
They didn’t win. Bokuto knew he wasn’t playing at his best, since all his mind was on was thinking about where you were. You’ve never missed one of his games, so he was incredibly worried. After he accepted his second-place medal, he rushed out the stadium to go to your house but he was stopped by some fangirls ‘I guess signing autographs is the least I can do’ he thinks, the fans were being a bit odd today but he didn’t have time to focus on that as his mind was racing thinking about you and your whereabouts.  
One of his fans did give him an alarmingly big boquet of roses which he appreciated ‘these must of cost a fortune’ he thinks. Although it was a probably a long shot, he decided to ask the fan if he saw someone who looked like *whatever you look like* to maybe see if someone else saw you. Which the fan replied “yeah I saw them with some guy at this restaurant whilst we were going to see you!” they exclaimed.
‘A guy’ he thought ‘that most likely wasn’t you.’ Seeing Bokuto’s confusion, the fan followed up with “I'm pretty sure it was her I mean we all know who Bokuto Koutaro’s girlfriend was.” Bokuto didn’t reply just walking away making sure to thank them for the flowers.  
He was rushing towards your house on foot (since all the taxi’s and ubers were fully booked because of the Olympics) whilst running he stumbles across your passed out body all black and bruised with scratch marks and bleeding all over you. “what happened” he whispered, knowing you obviously weren’t going to respond.  
He picked up your near-dead body, and cradled you in his arms taking you back to the stadium (since he knew that getting an ambulance to come here or running to the hospital would basically be impossible.) When he got back to the stadium, he did get odd looks from strangers but he didn’t care, his only agenda was making sure you were okay.
You woke up, and saw Bokuto pacing the room repeatedly you tried to get his attention by saying his name but your throat was damaged. He eventually notices you and runs to your side, stroking your face softly and giving you a gentle hug making sure not to hurt you.  
“Who did this Y/N?” he asks with worry in his eyes  
You ignore his question and look at the silver medal wrapped around his neck making you sad “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the match, I tried I really did try” you said with your voice sounding even worse after you said every word.  
“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad that you’re okay babe, I was really worried about you.” he said
The Medic came in and said that you had multiple broken ribs, but beside that you were fine you just needed to rest your throat and let your bruises heal. You eventually told Bokuto that it was some of his fans, he was upset that you hid this from him for so long but he was just glad that he got to you as soon as he did. He managed to play at the next Olympics and you were there fully present, with your even bigger boquet of flowers watching win gold.
Authors Note: I tried to make it as close to your request as possible, but I hope you enjoy as I really do think this is my favourite work so far.... :3 Comments and feedback appreciated.
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cherrykindness · 3 years
Text
wild tweets |
pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader
summary: as newlyweds, you and harry read thirsty comments for buzzfeed.
warning: it's thirsty tweets, so below there is adult humor 😳
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"It's a bright, sunny morning in Los Angeles, and there's nothing I want more than to be on BuzzFeed and read wild tweets alongside my husband."
"Thirsty tweets, babe." Harry corrected, laughing out loud with the producers behind the cameras.
"Thirsty Tweets." You said quickly, putting your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm terrible at that, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"
"Let's take a break for one to two minutes. You've given us a great introduction, Y/N."
You shook your head, smiling shyly before turning to Harry, who was already watching you with that easy smile at the corner of his lips. You liked how his hand remained firmly on yours, making those circular movements with the thumb that always served as a natural medice for your anxiety.
"You look so fucking beautiful."
The pleated dress with flounce sleeves fit you like a glove. You had made peace with the various shades of white since the wedding and knew that Harry liked to see you in that color too.
"Thank you, you're not too bad either, Styles."
You intimately suspected that Harry would always seem far beyond that "not bad" that came out as a euphemism from your mouth. He wore nothing but a pair of bell-bottom pants in a strong shade of blue and a soft vest printed with fluffy little sheep on a striped American collared shirt - in your opinion, no one could look better in farm animal clothing than Harry Styles and Princess Diana with her red "Black Sheep" sweater in the 1980s. In contrast, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was arrogant and knew exactly how hot he looked - you also made your thoughts clear enough when you kept him backstage beyond ten minutes in a rather heated kissing session.
"Are you anxious?" you asked curiously, remaining with downcast eyes fixed on the strokes that remained assiduous on your warm skin. "To read about how the whole internet dreams of fucking my wife?! Of course." Harry joked, leaning over to leave a small one on your cheek. "We agree on that, don't we? Although I'm a little nervous, I'm really interested to know all the crazy things they say about you. Everyone knows you're mine at the end of the day, that's enough."
At the end of the break, you and Harry made a silent agreement that you should be the first to pick up one of the scattered papers in the red pot. There were quite a significant amount of tweets, and as much as you were used to reading rather sordid things about your husband on the Internet, the excitement was there as if you were wading into uncharted territory.
"I would be a good girl all year round if Santa guaranteed me a threesome with Harry and Y/N Styles on Christmas Eve." You laughed, Harry staring at the camera with an expression close to the meme of the surprised Pikachu. "You guys are incredibly nasty, I love it."
"If that was the first one, I'm really worried about the next ones." Harry commented with a little corner smile, picking the next tweet out of the bucket. "I have an entire folder on Pinterest dedicated to Harry Styles' hands, and let me tell you why: those hands are art, and art needs to be recognized."
"What- Guys, you promised you wouldn't post my anonymous tweets here." You quipped with false reproach, laughing at your own stupid joke while everyone else in the studio did the same. "But I can't blame her, honestly." Shaking your shoulders, you opened another piece of paper. "Harry Styles finally confessed that he wrote Watermelon Sugar for Y/N!!!! Are you guys imagining the same thing as me?!!!!!! 🥵🍆💦"
"Exhausted emoji, eggplant emoji, and water emoji?" Harry frowned, staring at the tweet you held up. "I imagine you're in need of a vacation somewhere refreshing and you're craving a fruit that everyone eats like it's really a vegetable."
"That reminded me of that story-" You laughed, hiding your face on the table as Harry continued to offer a poker face to the camera, struggling not to keep up with you laughter. "I'm sorry, lovie, I have to share this with the rest of the world." You stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eyes. "Harry always wears those fancy suits to concerts, right?! Right! Turns out he looks really hot in some, like his ass molds perfectly into those tight pants and everything. I was home that night because I wasn't feeling well enough to face the big crowds, but I was still following everything on twitter. It was a concert in London, not so far from where we lived at the time, so it was obvious that he would come home after it was over. I follow some portals that do really fast updates of pictures, videos, etc; everything that happened at Harry's concert was on my timeline in a matter of seconds. When one of these profiles uploaded a picture of him with his back to the camera in a heavily accentuated black and white suit, I quickly sent him the image along with a peach emoji and then wrote "looks good tonight". He didn't reply to me until a few hours later, of course, but I obviously didn't expect a "ready for a Fifth Avenue peach salad for dinner?" and numerous cutlery emojis."
Harry rolled his eyes comically, indulging in laughter as did everyone else who occupied the backstage area.
"I'm against the eroticization of emojis." He said between uncompensated breaths, shaking his head negatively. "Let's go to the next ones, please, I'm already feeling exposed enough here."
"I like your old-fashioned spirit, baby." You assured him with a smile, laying on the sturdy shoulder hidden under the fluffy fabric.
Harry chuckled low, leaving a little kiss on the top of your head before selecting the next paper. The fans would die when that video aired, everyone was sure. You two easily forgot the cameras when you were side by side, and the public display of affection had never been a problem.
"My life mission is to look at someone the way Harry looks at Y/N and be reciprocated the way Y/N looks at Harry, then I could die happy." Harry read. "That was very good and healthy, thank you!" He smiled. "But don't settle for death in that case, please. Just make sure to keep that person around forever."
"Awn, we got so sweet now." You made a pout. "Thank you for sending us something so cute! I really hope you find the right person soon." Sending a kiss to the camera, you moved on to the next tweet. "I wouldn't want to get a golden ticket to visit Willy Wonka's factory, I would like to get a golden ticket to actively participate in Y/N and Harry Styles' Honeymoon.
"That was creative, so I will disregard the fact that you removed my last name from my wife's name." Harry joked.
"I will always be an Y/L/N." You flashed the tongue. "We had a great Honeymoon, but I know you guys already know all about it because there are pictures all over the internet of outings that I don't even remember existed."
"Even though we chose a rather reserved city, many paparazzi still managed to photograph some of our nights there." Harry agreed. "There was one particular day when we opted to have dinner at a restaurant near the beach. Y/N had found it even before the trip, it was pretty laid back and we could spend the evening at karaoke. I don't really remember what happened, but we woke up the next day with a terrible hangover, still wearing the clothes from the dinner and with several headlines saying that I was cheating on my wife in the middle of our Honeymoon with a blue-haired italian girl."
"That wig made me sexy, man." You blinked, laughing as you remembered the situation. "It's a shame the paparazzi only got low quality images, but I swear I looked really amazing that night. Italy, I miss you."
"We're coming to the end and I haven't had to ask production for a glass of water yet, thank you to whoever selected these tweets." Harry raised his thumb to the camera, smiling before turning his gaze back to the small paper he had chosen. "Y/N could literally punch me in the face and I would just bow down and thank them for it." He laughed. "She has heavy hands, so I would rethink that choice."
"It takes strong hands to be a superheroine." You blinked gracefully, referring to your works as a Marvel actress. "I move around a lot during the night, so I'll take this lovely opportunity to say that twitter can dismiss all the malicious theories about Harry always show up with a new bruise all over his body."
"Please stop making indecent assumptions while Y/N is aggressive with me at night only unconsciously, her father has access to social media."
You laughed, clearing your throat before reading the next obscenity aloud.
"I would sell all my possessions to have Y/N sitting on my lap for ten seconds."
"Oh my God." Harry laughed out loud, throwing his head back. "I should have said that in our wedding vows."
You shook your head, laughing low as you set the tweet aside.
"That was pretty funny and cheeky, I approve."
"Okay, looks like we finally got to the last one." Harry announced, waving the paper in the air dramatically before opening it. "Harry could literally crush me with those boots while fuc- I need that glass of water." He said dumbfounded, hiding his face between his hands after throwing the tweet over his shoulder. You laughed out loud next to the organizers, and meanwhile Harry leaned his head on your bust, staring at you still with wide eyes. "Please promise that we will be careful with our future children on the internet."
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tarosin · 3 years
Text
The great adventures of y/n, Tommy, Jack and Tubbo
Requested:yes/no
Pairing: Platonic jack/tommy/tubbo/reader
Summary: another day another adventure
Content warning: cursing / I didn't proof read
An: reader has bright unnatural hair I wrote a lot, I can't figure out how to add read more on mobile I'm sorry
The music you were currently listening to was interrupted by the discord group notifying you that you have a new message.
Tommy: Y/N HOW BUSY ARE YOU TUBBO HAS COME TO VISIT AND JACK IS HERE
y/n: I mean I've currently got hair dye on but it’s being washed off and dried in around 20 minutes, why?
y/n: WAIT TUBBO?!?!
tubbo: oh yeah I forgot to tell you
y/n: how did you forget you know what nevermind, I’m glad you’re here :]
jack: we should be here in an hour so you have plenty of time to get ready
tubbo: what colour dye y/n
y/n: you’ll see soon enough as apparently, you’re all showing up at my house
Tommy: I suggest you wear comfortable shoes
y/n: I am terrified
Tommy: you have nothing to fear... for now
•••
luckily it had only taken you just over 40 minutes to get ready giving you roughly 20 minutes to prepare for the adventure ahead. or so you thought, as soon as you sat down ready to check your phone the sound of Tommy and tubbo laughing could be heard from your room, jack sent a message “hey we got here extremely early I’m sorry there’s no rush the others have been distracted by dreams music :)”
grabbing a backpack from next to your bed you had quickly chucked your phone and purse into the bag unsure as to what you’re going to need today.
•••
as soon as you opened the door you were met with an ecstatic tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug unable to contain their excitement of seeing their friend
“I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES YOUVE CHANGED SO MUCH LOOK AT YOUR HAIR”
“I look exactly the same”
“Now I’m no genius y/n but last time we spoke you didn’t have unnatural hair”
you paused for a moment as tubbo had a point the last time you and tubbo were on face time your hair was classed as a natural colour however today as a fuck you to your school which didn’t allow unnatural hair you decided to dye it your favourite colour.
“you raise a fair point now if you don’t mind releasing me from your grasp I have to lock the door so no one gets in”
•••
“Tommy unlock the door let tubbo and y/n in”
“Y/N YOU'RE HERE- HOLY SHIT YOUR HAIR! JACK ARE YOU SEEING THIS”
“Hello to you too Tommy”
“well if we weren’t going to get noticed at the shopping centre earlier y/ns bright fucking hair will definitely cause people to notice us”
“oh I’m sorry I didn’t expect to be going shopping with a bunch of Minecraft streamers today”
“don’t you stream Minecraft?”
“This isn’t about me jack”
the trip to the shops was surprisingly relaxing y/n sat at the front listening to jack sing along to songs playing on the radio, however, it was clear the boys had something they weren’t telling y/n which became evident through Tommy and tubbo bickering in the back of the car about who was going to tell them. it was a relatively short journey due to the fact you lived close to the city centre
•••
“let’s go shopping boys” Tommy practically yelled to everyone, tubbo held his phone in your direction then looked towards you, nodding at him you grabbed his phone and began recording
“I'm vlogging”
Tommy walked over “YEAHHHHH”
walking past cex you had to put up with Tommy making sex jokes until you made it to game, you stood holding back your laugh as you filmed Tommy and tubbo fighting about who’s paying whilst jack went off to buy a Minecraft squishy and mug despite everyone’s arguments against it. soon enough fans came over asking for photos with you all once the group of fans left jack took over recording for tubbo whilst you went off to quickly buy some games that you could play on stream.
•••
“want a wig bro? jack!”
the four of you walked into the shop, you couldn’t help but stand in awe looking at all the bright colours already questioning what colour to dye your hair next the sound of Tommy and jack being amazed pulled you out of your thoughts
“Gogy goggles, I’m actually buying them”
“i wan’t a pair”
“no, you’re getting a wig jack”
“I don’t want a wig I want George”
“y/n has bright hair and they’re not complaining”
“what do you have against people with colourful hair jack hmm?”
•••
“I'm not happy”
“you look lovely jack”
“we’re getting so many looks”
tubbo stopped everyone to ‘fix’ jacks wig which resulted in everyone laughing once you had finally stopped laughing you noticed tubbo had walked off and you were convinced jack had randomly decided to record strangers until you saw tubbo going up and down escalators
“oh there he goes again”
“pov you’re thinking about bees”
“where to next boys?”
Tommy pointed towards the lift
“Is this a lift for us”
Tommy noticed the safety sign and automatically made comments about it
“keeping us all safe is what I would say if I wasn’t carrying a knife”
“oh same Tommy”
“look you can see me”
taking that as an invitation to join the vlog you stood behind tubbo and pointed at the sign again and looked at Tommy and jack
“keeping us all safe is what I would say if we weren’t about to do this-“
the three of you went to jump up and down
“NO”
the four of you quietly left the lift however you were convinced that the public heard Tommy comment on having a knife and you threatening to jump as once the lift opened everyone was staring at you but it could also be due to the fact you had brightly coloured hair and somehow convinced jack to keep the wig on, you all spent a long time trying to convince Tommy to get a new outfit, eventually you went into another shop a certain keyboard caught your eye
“I’ve found my home, ill stay here at the gamer bunker”
you decided now was the perfect time to sneak off to buy the keyboard that had caught your eye, once tubbo noticed it was too late you stood holding the bag with your purchase leaving you stood in the middle of the shop defending your purchase to him claiming that it was a business expense and not just because you thought it looked cool.
“you told me you wanted to save your money”
“it lights up tubbo and it fits the vibe of my room”
Tommy placed his arm on your head treating you as an armrest as you were shorter than him and he knew it annoyed you
“they have a point tubbo it lights up”
once the recording ended you made your way back to the car
“say y/n you wouldn’t mind if me Tommy and jack stayed the night as tomorrow we were thinking-“
“sure thing”
“YESSSSSS”
•••
the next day you were woken up at 9 am by Tommy stood at the foot of your bed
“hi y/n”
“WHAT THE FUCK- oh hi Tommy Jesus christ do you know how horrifying that was to wake up to”
“Sorry bout that but if I didn’t wake you up now you’d only wake up in the afternoon and we need to go soon I’ll leave you to get ready”
you noticed a note was next to a jumper on the floor ‘hi, thanks for letting us stay the night I really liked your hoodie so I decided to wear it today here’s mine in exchange- Tubbo :D’
normally you’d be concerned that someone stole your hoodie as you live with your parents however today was an exception once you were all ready you set off jack pulled into a McDonald's drive-through so you could all get breakfast
“nice hoodie y/n”
“Thanks, someone took mine and decided to make a trade”
“you’re welcome”
the journey was quiet again you sat next to tubbo in the back Tommy sat at the front screaming at jack and trying to distract him and people around you decided to took a picture with tubbo who now had his arm wrapped around you as it was rather cold in the car and posted it to Twitter ‘@ ranboosaysstuff wish you were here :D’ less than a minute later you received 2 notifications ‘ranboosaysstuff replied to your tweet: same’ ‘ ranboosaysstuff has tweeted: *the spongebob gif*’
•••
soon enough you all arrived at mint golf to say you we’re excited would be an understatement
“can I get the shortest club you have”
you stood hiding your face in the jumper tubbo left you whilst you laughed a few minutes later you received a call from ranboo the others said they’d sort everything for you whilst you answered
“what’s up tall one”
“stay safe okay”
“ranboo it’s mini-golf I’m not fighting criminals”
“yes but I know how clumsy you are”
“first of all rude second of all fuck you third of all jealousy isn’t a good look on you” you managed to say through laughter
“jokes aside please come to the UK boo”
“oh sure I’ll go book a plane ticket now” *ranboo ended the call*
ranboo made jokes like that before however this time sounded a lot more serious and you had no idea why he called you so you made a mental note to call him again later. once with friends again you were met with Tommy telling the worker all about you all
“yeah we’re big on the influencing”
“What on earth did I walk in on”
“no time to explain let’s go golf”
you were handed a club and a ball and were dragged away by jack
•••
tubbo joked about getting a hole on one as soon as it was his go, you bet £10 with jack he wouldn't
“hand over the money y/n”
you looked at Tommy who was now recording you handing jack the money “so today we have learnt to not underestimate your friends and that gambling is bad. you lose your money to a tall bald guy”
to put it politely you and Tommy found out that mini golf is not your calling in life
“ill stick to streaming“
“you’re both losing by the way”
“yeah well- why and how does tubbo have soup”
tubbo stood cradling the soup as though it was a child
“Some things I can’t explain to you”
you stood tilting your head to the side questioning where the hell he got soup from
“eh”
“soups like a small child I take care of it as if it was my own”
you couldn’t contain your laughter at this point the confused faces of your friends alongside tubbos happiness of soup sent you over the edge so you decided to just sit down before you fall as your knees were already weak from laughing too much
“where did you get the soup from”
“I manifested it”
•••
after a few solid minutes of arguing over soup you and Tommy dropping the phone you all continued with bowling.
“tubbo get out of the way of my dream ball”
you stood recording jack cheering him on tubbo had different plans and kicked the ball away resulting in jack giving up and copying what you had been doing most of the rounds, after missing the hole 3 times each go, picking up the ball and placing it in the hole however again he missed
“you can’t be serious”
“golf isn’t for everyone big man”
Tommy took the phone from you to record “pov you’re me golfing”
•••
“how do we get across there”
“probably the bridge”
Tommy pulled to rope moving the bridge across the gap
“Why thank you, Tommy, wouldn’t have been able to do it without you”
you laughed
“you're extremely welcome y/n it was extremely easy because I’m a big muscly man”
golf was finally going well till you hit the ball a bit too hard causing it to go over the fence tubbo was able to get the ball back
“I’ve been watching a lot of doctor shows” you stood amazed at how far you made the ball go
“see the issue is its mini golf. if this was regular golf I'd have got a hole in one I'm telling you”
•••
“I'm never being in your vlog again”
jack looked at you and tubbo who was now laughing at you pretending to worship the can of soup in the hole
“Tommy please come back”
the rest of the game was chaos, you kept missing the hole then claiming to rage quit golf tubbo and Tommy kept making jokes jack left his drink somewhere then had to go back and find it, no one had been paying attention to you which allowed you to take the score sheet and make it so you had won the game eventually he game was over you had declared yourself the champion of golf despite the fact everyone was better than you including Tommy
•••
the journey back was chaos you called ranboo who claimed he only called you to plan a video/stream with you however it was clear that wasn’t the reason tubbo whispered to you so no one could hear
“I think he wants to be here with us I think he’s jealous”
you laughed and nodded
“of course”
eventually, you all made it back to yours, ranboo said goodbye to everyone then ended the call now it was time for you to say your goodbyes. since your love language was physical touch you hugged everyone. As you walked into your house Tommy yelled “Y/N HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT PLANES”
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eloves-writes · 3 years
Text
a failed attempt to hate you
(tristan dugray)
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a/n: i can only apologise if this writing is terrible, i wrote most of this in the middle of the night hopped up on medication for my disgusting cold. i hope it makes sense. anywho thanks for reading, enjoy, mwah <3
screw mr medina for making you help tristan study. you knew he knew from rory your inherent disdain for him, and it wasn’t your fault he was falling behind therefore not your responsibility to help him (as you had told mr medina last tuesday, with no effect). it was now sunday morning and you held little hope he would actually show up this time; he had somehow managed to cancel on your little study date 6 times already and it had only been 5 days since you were handed this apparently mammoth task. honestly, you didn’t expect him to show up at all, especially not anytime before noon- for which reasons you had made the decision put on your usual lazy sunday morning reading in bed get-up, which included (but was not limited to) an oversized rock concert shirt rory’s friend lane had given you in an attempt to clear her closet of non-christian attire, nothing but underwear underneath since you wouldn’t plan on leaving the comfort of your bedsheets for many hours, and a loose silk scrunchie you accidentally stole from rory keeping your hair out of your eyes. 
your book of choice today was ‘harry potter and the goblet of fire’ , the most recently released chapter of the boy wizard’s adventures at hogwarts. the clock beside you read 9:15 as you comfied yourself for a morning of magic and adventure, which naturally was ended a mere 8 minutes later at 9:23 when the doorbell rang downstairs. you assumed your mother would answer it, but when it rang a second time you remembered your parents had both gone out to watch your sibling’s soccer match and you’d have to get it yourself.
it didn’t even cross your mind to put pants on, or that it may not be the postman at the door, until you opened it to see your very favourite chilton student whose eyes had hastily wandered to your bare legs. typical high school boy, you thought to yourself before your brain actually grasped the situation and kick started into action.
‘tristan. hi.’ you said with a slight shock in your voice.
‘erm, hi. i hope i’m not interrupting anything,’ he smirked, glancing down at your thighs again.
you rolled your eyes so aggressively you hoped mr medina could hear it from wherever he was spending his day, irritating boy-less and free to do whatever he wanted with his time.
‘you’re not,’ you quipped. ‘i just didn’t expect you to actually show up this time. and early may i add, i’m sure we said 11.’
‘we did, but i’ve got plans later so i thought i’d come by earlier and get this over with.’
‘how did you know i didn’t have plans? i might have been busy before 11.’
he pulled a face of amusement and you could swear you saw a hint of sarcasm shining through his eyes too. ‘right. are you done talking now or can i come in?’
‘you can come in, i guess,’ you sighed, closing the door behind him and showing him to the kitchen table. ‘wait here, i’ll go and get my books.’
‘grab some pants whilst you’re at it.’
‘stop talking,’ you called as you walked upstairs.
you came back downstairs a few minutes later fully-clothed and carrying your english notes to see that tristan had wandered from the chair you specifically remembered telling him to sit in, and was instead tracing a finger along the bookcase that stretched across the far wall of your living room. for a moment you just watched him nosey into your life; the framed certificates, the family photos, the 5 tapes of ‘beauty and the beast’ stacked atop of each other because it was your favourite film when you were 9 and practically every living relative had bought you a copy. beside those was a picture of you dressed as princess belle at disneyworld with chocolate ice cream smeared from cheek to cheek, a huge smile plastered between. tristan picked it up and turned to face you.
‘thoroughly adorable. seriously, you should go for this look more often.’
‘ha ha,’ you grimaced, snatching it off him and placing it back on the shelf. ‘are we studying or reminiscing on my past fashion choices?’ 
‘oo, someone’s in a good mood this morning huh,’ he teased. you pulled another face, once again silently cursing mr medina for completely ruining not just your day, but in fact your whole week. by god this boy got more irritating the more time you spent with him- it had only been 10 minutes, but it was 10 minutes longer than you ever previously had or ever wanted to.
 ‘can i get a drink before we start?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation and walking past you back into the kitchen. he began opening various cupboards, searching for a glass. ‘where’s the-’
‘why yes, tristan. you can have a drink,’ you snarked, opening the cupboard behind him with a dramatic flourish. he raised his eyebrows at you and reached forward to grab a glass, leaning over you as he did so. you caught a whiff of his cologne and almost forgot to dislike him for a moment.
‘there’s, um, soda in the ... fridge,’ you told him, voice unwillingly faltering as he looked down to meet your eyes. he had pretty eyes. pretty, blue, sparkling, stupid, annoying, asshole eyes. 
you found the thick tension sickening. you refused to be another girl at school who simply swooned over him when he walked past your locker. you didn't like him. you were here to teach him english. because he was dumb. and actually, his eyes weren’t that nice.
he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and you both sat down at the table and began reading through your analysis of ‘to kill a mockingbird’, adamantly pretending not to see him staring at you the whole time. 
why? he had had every popular and pretty girl in the whole of chilton, how was he ever so starved of female attention that he would look at you so admirably when you liked to make it clear you despised him? in fact, you enjoyed making a special effort to flip him off, or pull a face at him when he walked by, or kick his chair extra hard in spanish, or... oh shit. you had seen it from an outside point of view now, and it was glaringly obvious; maybe you did like him, just a little bit. shit. rory owed lorelai 10$ and a cheeseburger from luke’s, though you didn’t want to have to admit she was right when she’d said you were like a kindergarten boy pulling a girl’s ponytails because he thought she was pretty.
‘hey tristan,’ you started, breaking the comfortable silence between his questions and suddenly nervous to talk to him. stupid, it was still the exact same boy you’d been complaining about all week, nothing new. 
he looked up from your notes. ‘what’s up princess?’ 
that was definitely new.
‘don’t call me princess’ -he smirked irritatingly- ‘do you need to stay much longer? i mean, is there anything else you want help with?’
‘trying to get rid of me?’
‘no! no. i just thought that you’d only stay and pretend to listen to me for like, half an hour then vanish. it’s 11:30 and you’ve been through my whole binder.’
‘it is? time flies.’
‘tristan.’
‘i do care about my grades, you know. and you’re a good teacher, i might have a chance at an A.’
‘why didn't you show up the last 6 times we planned then?’
he put down his pen- your pen, actually. it had pink sparkles on the lid. ‘got to keep up my street cred.’
‘ha ha. funny,’ you replied as blankly as possible, pulling back a smile you could feel in your stomach. you made eye contact again and, like every other time since you’d sat down and started studying, you held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary. funny how realising you like someone makes you suddenly act like it.
‘i should get going then right,’ he said, picking his jacket from the back of his chair.
you felt weird, almost as if you didn't want him to leave after praying earlier he wouldn't show up. alas, your parents would be home soon and you would be willing to bet money that tristan would have some interesting jokes about your being home alone that would not slide with your dad.
‘yeah. i hope you get that A,’ you said, accidentally smiling as you walked him to the door.
tristan turned to lean on the frame of the now-open door and put on a face of mock surprise. ‘my, my, y/n. was that a kind comment and a smile? you’re spoiling me.’
‘shut up, i hope you fail.’
he smiled back. ‘you really mean that?’
‘i guess not.’
there was yet another beat of heavy silence.
‘see you monday.’
‘see you monday.’
you closed the front door as he walked down the drive, but noticed tristan’s car keys still sat on the kitchen table. a porsche, of course. you picked them up and reopened the door to his fist poised to knock. the two of you laughed awkwardly for a second.
‘i forgot my-’
‘you forgot your-’
another awkward laugh. jesus christ this was uncomfortable. you passed him the keys, and with absolutely no warning at all, your lips were suddenly met with his. they were soft and confident, and his free hand held your face as you tried to process the new situation. you quickly melted into the kiss, letting him take control until he pulled away and smiled that sparkly smile you didn't hate as much as you tried to.
‘didn't see that one coming,’ you said breathily, brushing some loose hairs off of your face.
‘i knew you didn’t hate me.’
‘ever the arrogant twat.’
‘hey, does this mean you’ll stop kicking my chair in spanish?’
‘absolutely not. in fact, i think i’ll kick it harder.’
‘as long as you let me do that again.’
tags: @leossmoonn for inspiring me to start writing again, @account123445 & @lmaoidekanymore6 for asking me to post tristan fics! (couldn’t figure out how to make the tags work but if you read this, you know ✨)
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