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trixabke · 2 years

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Hi! Saw your matchups open and I was wondering if I could get a romantic matchup for HQ? I'm a 5'8-ish girl with Southeast Asian features though I would sometimes be mistaken as East Asian at certain angles. I have long, straight black hair but has like this natural wave at the bottom and dark brown eyes that look closer to black. A bit chubby, but I've been losing weight mostly for health reasons but it does affect what my body looks like (I've been successful thus far!!!). I wear glasses and usually have an alt sense of style, dark makeup, heavy eyeliner, almost all black clothing (ocassional white, navy, maroon, but mostly black). My pronouns are she/they and I'm bisexual male-leaning. I'm an INTP enneagram 5w6 tritype 539, my zodiac sign is Pisces, and my hobbies mostly fall on the artistic side of the scale like drawing, writing, some arts and crafts, but I also like maths (aiming to be an architect bc it's a combo of art and maths) and research (research includes personality types if you can't tell from me giving my mbti up to tritype). I prefer reading to watching because I get bored when I watch movies (I fell asleep during End Game, it was an accident). I'm a social introvert and I'm only talkative or loud when I'm comfortable in a situation, but my social battery drains fast. Most people say I'm cold and scarily professional the first time they meet me, not to mention unreadable (my facial expressions are,,, not too readable, they usually listen to the tone of my voice for clues), but people closest to me say I'm the chillest, most laid-back person with a funny sense of humour that can talk their ear off. I've only ever gotten angry twice in my life and people prefer to avoid pushing me that far bc they said I'm scary when I'm actually angry and not just irritated or annoyed, but they also avoid getting me irritated or annoyed bc they also say my glare is scary. An addition bc I think this may help, people probably don't know if I don't like them because I don't make aggressively snappy comments towards them or hint at it, I simply ignore their whole existence and move on. My ideal type would definitely be someone who at least has the same level of maturity as me or even more and a capable leader (I've always been one of the oldest people in my friend groups and I'm the oldest sibling so I had to lead and be in charge a lot, I don't like being in charge, I'm more of an advisor or right-hand man type of person), I would prefer someone who isn't too boisterous or obnoxious bc people like that drains my energy too much. I most definitely steer myself away from immature and childish people because it forces me into a role I don't want. Maybe someone loyal and understanding would be an ideal as well because well, those two are the bare minimum if I have to be honest. Last but not least in this long ass ask, my love language is mostly quality time with a mix of physical touch (I usually don't like being touched or touching other than people who I see in a romantic and intimate light). Wowhee this is longer than my to-do list for the next five years, hope this much information helps!! Be aware that I'm fasting and have only slept like 4 and a half hrs beforehand. Thank you in advance if you answer my ask! No pressure to get it done quickly. Stay hydrated and healthy!! (This is also one of the first times I'm sending an ask without anon on and I'm kinda,,, nervous lol).

HIII, this was like so sweet :) also, if ur cool w it, u should tell me more abt the tritype thing cuz when I googled it, it seemed really cool. I love the long asks; they literally bring a smile to my face, and I'm so happy u interacted dw u did perfect! NGL, I love ppl w glasses, so u have a soft spot in my heart now <3

(also, the how u guys met part is so long I'm sorry)

(romantic) I match you with...

akaashi:

you guys probably met at a party..like just:

ok so one of your friends probably had a rough day and really wanted to go to this party, and even though u were tired, u wanted to make them happy and caved

they promised to stay away from super huge crowds as a way of thanking you

bokuto happened to convince akaashi to go to that same party

akaashi doesn't really like parties much, but he goes to mediate boktuo

He probably is trying to find bokuto a bathroom (bless the poor man) and like walks into a room of you and your friend + a couple other ppl and is like, YOOO??

because to others, you might blend in, but in his eyes, you stand out

and as the door opens, your eyes move from the conversation to him like staring into the depths of his soul, and he is half scared but also like can't take his eyes off of you because he just thinks ur so perfect

is interrupted when bokuto comes up and jumps on akaashi and announces he did indeed find a place to piss!!

akaashi just leaves, but his mind keeps wandering back to u

then, like god was listening, he sees you sitting down listening to your friends talk and is like admiring you because you look so pretty listening to ur friends talk

ur friend prob notices u getting a little overwhelmed and lets u go back home and thanks u for spending time with them

BUT before you leave, bokuto asks your friend for their number

ok ik, this doesn't make sense, but like: bokuto is not very observant, BUT when his best friend looks, so content watching u (not in a creepy way istg), he knows what he has to do

texts ur friend later and sends akaashi's number to them and tells them to send it to you

ALTHOUGH- I see this as the night akaashi met you, like, something you don't remember but something he always will

u planned to meet up after a little bit, and one day, he just said he liked you, then u just didn't respond because what?? and then u text him a couple days later saying u like him back, and it becomes official (bokuto is really proud of himself for this and tells akaashi he owes him for being so great)

Akaashi has had to deal with bokuto a lot, but I think he enjoys being able to take care of people (don't get me wrong, he loves to be praised and have compliments, he may seem calm, but on the inside, it couldn't be more different)

he understands that u need someone to be there for you instead of you being there for everybody else

he also notices everything, the signs when your social battery is running low, when you start to feel stressed and back away, or after you have just had to be emotional or in a vulnerable situation and just need to be alone

he can tell anything just by the way you blink, no matter how expressive or unexpressive you are

he likes to think very logically as well and knows the right balance of emotion to bring in, especially with you, and when he makes a mistake, he learns from it

sorry from him really does mean sorry, and he will make an effort not to do that same thing again

he also really loves that you enjoy math, him being more of a literature person

it's like a really subtle thing, but in his head, the contrast is so cool [idk if u know what this is, but it's called the olive theory (if you don't, it should be on youtube; just search up like the olive theory from how I met your mother, there is a TikTok sound that has it w like music and I think that one matches the best) but I feel like to him it's that kind of energy, like something that doesn't mean a lot to others, but it's really special to him]

(plz ignore that I just wrote a whole fucking essay on that bullet; I just felt very strongly abt that)

also does really simple little acts for you

like washing your glasses when he gets up in the morning, but always washing them with hot water, so they feel nice and warm when you put them on

if he's at the store and remembers that your toothpaste was running low, he will buy you some

the dates would be pretty chill, probably just the 2 of you somewhere private

like, sitting outside and he's reading while you draw until it gets dark and then stargazing together

if he hears you talking about something a lot, he will probably try and plan it or buy it and surprise you

there is a baseline of maturity in your relationship you both really respect

just a comfortable, safe, and understanding relationship of you both trying to better yourself for each other!

Yours is so long, oml anyway. I really hope u liked this. I had a lot of fun writing this so ty for sending a rec, and if u see any spelling errors, no, u didn't :)

do not steal my work and claim it as your own

#haikyuu #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu x reader #akaashi #hq akaashi #akaashi drabble #akaashi x female reader #akaashi fic #akaashi matchup #akaashi fanfiction #romantic match

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amazingphilza · 3 years

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snapchat :: c!tommy x reader

fluff / angst , platonic , gender neutral ! first request whoop whoop :D [check pinned for more info on requests]

synopsis: ‘what’s so bad about adding every person on snapchat?’ tommy thought. unknowingly, with all the other people he begins talking to during exile, one ends up being you; tubbo’s younger sibling. that is until you both visit tommy in logstedshire.

cw: i purposely misspell a few words for the texting part, i hope it’s still readable for y’all! and i haven’t actually used snapchat in years so let’s pretend i know what i’m doing :)

tommy smiled at his brand new phone

first thing he does? install snapchat and reddit

if he couldn’t talk to his best friends face to face anymore, at least he had people online to talk to, right?

tommy hoped from all his possessions dream would destroy, he could at least keep a phone

without much thought, tommy opened snapchat and began adding every account and messaging them the same obnoxious message

BE MY FRIEND . MESSAGE BACK NOW.

most people chose ignore tommy, not having a clue why he was messaging them

but as for you, when you had the notification that someone added you on snapchat and started aggressively messaging you, it made you curious

you read their user

“wife haver”?? huh???

instead of immediately blocking the person, you replied back

what?

not even less than a second later you get a reply back

OH MY GOD FINALLY SOMEONE

IM DYING

without context, you were more than confused

genuinely dying is very alarming but you shouldn’t text a random stranger your last words

huh?

THE GREEN BASTARD TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME

YOURE ALL I HAVE LEFT

plwase helo

Help

where did tou go

Ohm hgod

hHello?

NOOOO NOT YOU TOO

PLEASR

you laughed at the person’s desperation and ignored the messages

if the stranger wasn’t going introduce themselves, you wouldn’t either

however, after a while you realized you had over 100 snapchat notifications within an hour of trying to ignore the person

however it was just jumbled up words and useless spam, nothing important

as if the stranger would said anything important to your concern anyway

do you ever shut up??

fuck you

a normal person wouldve taken offense by these messages but you found them quite amusing

it wasn’t like you had anything else better to do

and this acceptance was the start of your odd friendship with the stranger

you were still on edge because you had no idea who they were and their intentions but the anonymity was mutual nonetheless

if the desperate spamming “wife haver” isn’t going to formally tell you who they actually were, you weren’t going to risk exposing yourself first

but in the past few weeks, you and the person had normal conversations apart from the first day they messaged you

well as normal as you could’ve expected from someone named “wife haver”

they were the first to send an actual snap as well

that was when you found out the “wife haver” was an obnoxious boy that looked around your age, maybe a slightly older

he had sent you a photo of him holding a thumbs up and trying to smile when he was clearly upset

just got all my stuff exploded again, feeling good

you noticed his messy blonde hair and tattered clothes

what the hell happened to this guy?

part of you was confused, and the other was concerned

u good bro??

well

i don’t have anymore tools and materials if that’s anything

so no

this is shit

lmao it was probably deserved

FUCK YOU!!!!!

im kidding that’s sad

but like do u actually need stuff?

you contemplated sending your next message and thought of the consequences

but in the end, you were probably better off than him so if he did try to do something suspicious, you could easily just leave with your trident or defend yourself

i can bring some things over if you’d like

please oh my god it’s so boring here

where the hell do you even live???

it finally hit that you would be visiting this mysterious person

you never really had much to do during the day and he had nothing against your enchanted netherite armor when compared to his worn-out clothes

you were surprised that he was quick to be comfortable with you visiting him so continued to message the boy

if you live nearby i can just stop over and bring some spare diamond tools and armor if you’d like or smth

DIAMOND !,?’/:@!?:/-',(

ya sure lol

WTF

GOOD SHIT LAD! THANKS

WHEN DO U WANT TO VISIT???

his shock and excitement made you smile

maybe this wasn’t a bad idea

before replying, you quickly ran to your storage room you gather your spare items

instead of normally texting, you decided to take a picture of all the enchanted tools and armor and send back a snap

i’m down for tomorrow, turn on your snapmaps so i can come by ;D

he quickly replied back with handfuls of ‘holy shits’ and ‘YEAHS’

you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear which caught the attention of your older brother who had just walked in to get blocks from the wall of chests

“ew why are you smiling at your phone like that?”

“oh shut up, tubbo”

“it’s weird”

you roll your eyes at him in a playful matter

“whatever! i’m gonna be out tomorrow to visit a friend, okay?”

“you have friends? wow, sounds like a first”

“you’re such a dick!!” you yell at him whilst trying to hold in your laughter

“oh yeah? go on, tell me about this friend of yours then. meeting strangers online, hm?”

“if you’re so concerned, you can come with if you’re not busy with whatever a president does. i promise they’re not some weirdo like you”

tubbo’s tone was sarcastic but he agreed then left you to your own thoughts

you were excited for tomorrow that you were restless in your bed when nighttime had came

somehow you managed to fall asleep from tiredness in the middle of the night

soon enough it was morning

before doing anything, you checked your phone and went through all your notifications

you then checked snapchat, browsing snapmaps and realized how far you had to travel

despite the long travel, you brought yourself up from your bed and gathered all the items you were going to bring

you stuffed a full set of enchanted diamond armor, tools, and over a stack of golden carrots all in your inventory

after finishing all your preparations, you searched for your older brother

with just a loud yell of his name he appeared almost instantly

“you ready to go, tubbo?”

“yep! you know where you’re going right?”

you scoffed at the question

“of course!”

and with that, the two of you traveled on foot until you reached the ocean

you had brought 2 boats with you knowing that you couldn’t imagine being in the same boat as your brother; it would’ve ended up in endless bickering

after a while of being at sea, tubbo started to become impatient

“what the hell! how far does this person live, y/n??”

“i dunno!”

you knew the general direction you were supposed to be going to after studying your snapmaps all morning but you couldn’t check how much farther it would take to get there; there was obviously no signal in the middle of the ocean

it felt like forever before you saw land in the horizon

suddenly you regained all the energy you have lost from rowing

“there!! that place with the white tent, i can barely see it”

“finally”

with the burst of energy, you got to land in no time

the moment you got off your boat, the blonde spotted the two of you and ran in your direction

once appearing nearly feet apart, he stared at your brother who also had the shocked expression

“TOMMY?”

“TUBBO?”

your brother had more of a confused expression whilst the other boy seemed a bit mad

maybe he was always mad considering the endless conversations you had with him ranting about some ‘green bastard’

but tubbo quickly got defensive, stepping in front of you

you didn’t understand how they knew each other beforehand, but at the same time you never caught up with tubbo’s friends either

you needed answers

“what’s going on?”

“y/n! you were messaging tommy this whole time? why didn’t you tell me?”

tubbo was clearly frustrated and a feeling of guilt washed over you

it didn’t click that you never exchanged names and admitting it did not seem believable

tubbo was in complete shock, trying to process everything that was happening

“WHAT?! AND HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TALKING?”

you mumbled out your words

“a few weeks, i can’t remember”

“uh, yeah sorry” tommy had confirmed your statements. “i didn’t even know you had a sibling, tubbo! i actually didn’t know their name until now as well..”

“HUH??”

“but if i knew i was messaging a tub-ling, i wouldn’t have in the first place!”

“what the fuck tommy!!!”

“no, but how do you even know each other?” you had interrupt the two

tubbo had chosen his words carefully

“we’re... friends”

tommy had seemed upset at this

“tubbo....”

“no, don’t talk to me, tommy. you were exiled for a reason. y/n? give him the stuff you wanted to him and let’s go, this was a waste of time”

you were saddened but obliged, you didn’t want to anger your brother even more

“fuck you, tubbo! can’t believe this was how you visit me for the first time, i don’t even want your pity shit”

before you could react, tubbo led you to the back of his boat

he got in the front and quickly rowed away from the land you barely stayed on, leaving your boat behind on the shores

you looked back at tommy who already had left back to his tent

the boat ride was silent and full of sorrow until you arrived back at l’manburg

once you got home you immediately opened snapchat to message tommy

hey tommy i’m really sorry about today. i had no idea,,,

you thought he would’ve ignored your message but instead replied right after

but your heart sank at reading the message

it’s fine

i think it’s best we stop talking y/n

you didn’t want to lose a friend so quickly but after all the tension from today, you didn’t know how to come back from it

so instead of arguing you agreed, even if it wasn’t honest

yeah, me too

and that was the last message you sent to tommy

even though the whole situation was confusing from the start, it didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy the random conversations you had

the bizarre encounter was unforgettable

it made you even sadder when you realized the first time you two used each other’s names through text would also be the last

a/n: ngl, i didn’t think i would finish this on a kinda angsty ending but here we are! and grrr it’s 4am and i just wanted to finish this,, let’s hope there aren’t that many grammar mistakes LMAO anyway i hope y’all enjoyed <3

#tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit fanfic #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine

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nomazee · 4 years

Text

Slow

ushijima wakatoshi x reader

word count: 3400+

content: soulmate au (matching soulmarks), developing relationship, mild angst, ushijima is just Very Clueless sometimes, weird pacing (i can never get the pacing of my writing right :/ )

(hi hi hi!! here’s the ushijima oneshot i mentioned a few days ago. this was something i started working on a while ago but dropped it momentarily to focus on some other stuff. i ended up rewriting it completely and renewing the concept a bit.

this is sort of a different writing style? but that’s mainly because i wanted to adjust the way i wrote to the way the reader’s thoughts came through. i hope that makes sense? and i hope this is still readable!!

i really hope you guys like this one. while soulmate aus aren’t my most favorite trope, i definitely like the way you can twist it to fit your story and make up new concepts branching from the main idea of soulmates.

i think this is the longest work i’ve made?? i’m definitely pretty proud of it!! i hope my hard work paid off and you all enjoy it :)

ALSO: a very quick note. i use the word “furoshiki” a few times in one part of the story to refer to the cloth that people use to wrap bento boxes. if i misused that term please let me know!! i looked it up to make sure i was using the right word but there’s definitely still a chance that i could be wrong. feel free to correct me on that!!

by the way: i’m posting this from my phone right now so the formatting might not all be there. i’m very sorry about that!! once i get the chance to go back on my laptop i’ll make sure to fix everything :)

happy reading !!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

It was common knowledge among those in the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club that their captain, Ushijima Wakatoshi, prioritized volleyball over nearly everything else.

Even relationships. Even soulmates.

His friend Tendou had laughed mirthlessly when Ushijima first met you, his soulmate. He was there to witness the whole thing, your eyes flitting between the ace’s soulmark trailed beautifully against his wrist and the same mark mirrored on your forearm. You looked enthused to meet him--not overly, hopping-off-the-walls ecstatic, but certainly hopeful enough to elicit a wide smile from you.

“I’m [Last] [First],” you introduced yourself politely, with light hesitance and an extended hand.

Ushijima blinked, looked down at your hand (soft, a red and scabbed cut on your first knuckle, a birthmark on the bony part of your wrist) and then back up at your eyes. He returned the gesture, shaking your hand, giving a polite bow--

--and walking right away.

You blinked in shock. Tendou’s mouth parted in disbelief. His head swung back and he called after Ushijima to no avail. Turning back to you, he gave a short apology and ran after his friend to scold (and tease) him.

Your mind went a bit hazy and in a natural defense mechanism, you tried to convince yourself that you were just dreaming.

You went home. Fell into your bed. Realized you were not dreaming. Cried into your pillow and fell asleep, begrudgingly waking up the next morning and getting ready for school.

---

During lunch, you stayed in your classroom to eat lunch alone when someone at the door told you a boy was looking for you. (You felt a bit pathetic for hoping that it was your soulmate and being disappointed when you realized it was not him.)

You recognized the boy as the redhead that accompanied your soulmate yesterday. Flinching at the memory, you asked him why he was here.

“I just wanted to say sorry, for the way my friend acted yesterday.” His expression was lighthearted and playful, if anything, but you recognized the sincerity of his words. “He tends to be a little… aloof, sometimes. But I promise you it’s not that he hates you or anything, just isn’t used to this. But he’s willing to talk to you again.”

You tried not to get your hopes up too much, and instead look at the reasonable outcomes of this whole soulmate thing. It’s not like you were really expecting love at first sight--lots of soulmates didn’t end up in a romantic relationship. Hell, your parents weren’t even soulmates but they were still very in love with each other. But at the very least, you thought your soulmate wouldn’t just walk away after meeting you.

You took the redhead’s offer, packed up your half-eaten bento, and followed him to his own classroom a few doors down.

Your soulmate was there--you still didn’t know his name--and his head perked up at the sound of the sliding door opening. His expression was stagnant, which dampered your spirits the slightest bit and made you consider spinning on your heel and locking yourself in the bathroom for the rest of the school day.

You sat with the two of them, knees clenched together and gaze focused solely on the bento box resting on your lap. None of you spoke. Tendou’s eyes flitted between the both of you in expectance.

“So,” he spoke up, thankfully breaking the bout of stifling silence. “[Name], you wanna tell us a little about yourself? We don't really know much about you outside of… the very little we learned yesterday, so…?”

Your mouth gaped and closed rapidly, trying to find a good way to describe yourself without either seeming like an interviewee or a self-absorbed rando.

“I’m… [Name]. I’m seventeen… in class one. I’m in the photography club.” There wasn’t much else to say, you thought. You were a very normal person. Maybe too normal to really be worthy of having a close bond with your soulmate, but a small part of you still sort of hoped.

“Wakatoshi, your turn.”

The taller boy blinked into his bento (hayashi rice, you noted. Something you were able to cook, if you tried hard enough) before speaking. His voice was deep and embarrassingly, you flushed at the way it rumbled within his throat.

“I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”

Okay. So. No age. No name (except for ‘Wakatoshi,’ which you only pulled from what Tendou said). Just his club.

With a lump in your throat and a prickly feeling behind your eyes, you excused yourself politely, bowing, and clutching tightly to your star-wrapped bento before leaving the classroom.

You went home. Punched your pillow before realizing you were definitely not one for using aggression as a coping mechanism and instead crying while making a cup of tea. Went to bed and woke up the next morning trying to forget all of the events of the past two days.

---

A week passed. Somewhere within that time, Tendou had exchanged numbers with you as a polite formality, a deeper meaning ingrained in his offer (one that you read as, “hey, I know it must be really disappointing to realize that your soulmate has absolutely no clue what romance is and no ambition for anything but hitting a volleyball, but if you ever wanna talk about it then hit me up!” You couldn’t deny that you still appreciated it).

You took the week to avoid interacting with Wa-ka-to-shi, never texting Tendou and asking to eat lunch with them or even showing up at his practice like some of their fans did (you were a bit surprised to learn that the volleyball team had fans). But you had a breaking point, as you often did whenever it came to your faux-shunning.

You texted Tendou, hoping that you weren’t that unlucky that he was still at volleyball practice and had his phone out for the captain to view.

does he like hayashi rice?

“Read” appeared under your text. You waited for the three dots to appear, which took an unnervingly long time to happen.

yup! how’d u know??

he was eating it when i had lunch with you guys.

ur observant!!

i guess. do you guys have morning practice tomorrow?

yup! starts at 7. fourth gym :) see you there!!

You paused. Tendou was nice. Also very observant. Scarily observant, enough to catch onto what you were trying to do. It made you a bit wary, but to be fair, you weren’t really being discreet in the first place.

Your mother asked you multiple times why you were cooking beef stew at nine PM, far past dinnertime. You were scared to admit that it was for a soulmate, so you instead settled for “friend” and she (very suspiciously) let you be in the kitchen.

You packed the food into four bento boxes. One for your mom, your dad, Wa-ka-to-shi, and you. (You couldn’t help the annunciation of each syllable of his name. It was just so fun to say, so fun to click against the back of your tongue repeatedly. You blamed the affinity for his name on your soulmate bond.)

You went to bed. Woke up extra early. Disregarded the concerned look your parents gave you when you left the house half an hour early with two bentos in hand.

Just as Tendou said, there was the squeaking of the volleyball team from within Gym Number Four. You hovered outside, a text sent to Tendou asking if you were allowed to come in as you awkwardly shifted the weight on your feet.

yup!! we’re taking a break right now. just come right in, i’ll be waiting for u at the door

He was waiting for you at the door, but so was Wakatoshi (you figured you should drop the somewhat-annoying pronunciation of each letter), which threw you into a stammering loop as you blinked between the both of them.

“Good morning.” Wakatoshi greeted you politely, nodding his head at you. You repeated the gesture before extending a bento box to him, with your favorite star cloth wrapping it in the neatest way you could manage.

“It’s for you. For lunch. Or dinner. Or whenever. It’s hay-- um, hayashi rice.”

Wakatoshi didn’t take it. You cringed at the lack of action and a familiar lump manifested in your throat. The stoic boy blinked down at the childish wrap and you found yourself wishing you took a solid colored furoshiki instead of this one.

In a moment of boldness, you shoved the box into his chest where he instinctively reached for it and held it.

“I hope you like it!” You said it louder than intended and flinched at the sudden gazes on you from the other members of the team further into the gym. “Have a good day.”

A polite bow, and you were on your way, cursing yourself for taking the effort to make a decent-quality meal for a soulmate, a boy who barely even glanced at you without his friend giving him the hint to do so.

During lunch, you didn’t feel hungry, and the bento sat untouched on your desk for the whole break. You ended up letting your parents have the leftovers when you got home. Your appetite was gone for the rest of the day.

(Tendou ended up bringing you back your box and cloth the next day, wordlessly apologizing for having to be the messenger of your belongings rather than the person you actually gifted it to in the first place. You took it back with a resigned sigh and a thankful smile.)

---

The morning you stopped by, Tendou rolled his eyes after your departure and he gave his friend a firm, but friendly pat on the back.

“Why are you so awkward, Wakatoshi? That’s your soulmate, you know. You could at least be a little courteous towards her?”

Said man stayed silent, still leering at the patterned furoshiki covering the lunch you made for him--specifically him; the concept sent an unfamiliar fluttering through his chest that he didn’t dare to look into.

“Why would she make this for me?”

Tendou rolled his eyes again, letting out an audible groan.

“I just explained it to you, ‘Toshi! She likes you. You’re her soulmate. You could at least tell her thank you.”

“I will, next time.”

Tendou’s eyes narrowed at that. You seemed like a spontaneous person, from the few interactions you’d had with each other. (That, and the fact that after a week of ghosting your own soulmate you suddenly decided to make an entirely specialized lunch for him.) He wanted to half-joke and say ‘I don’t really know when the next time will be, exactly,’ but figured that may lead into another Q & A With Ushijima Wakatoshi, and instead let the captain simmer in his own contemplation for now.

---

You didn’t know Semi Eita very well. He was in your class, and you chatted a fairly reasonable amount with him, even going as far as to sit and eat with him in the classroom whenever he claimed he was “too tired to deal with his friends in the cafeteria.” As much of a “friend” of his you could be considered, you didn’t know much of him past what he was on the surface.

Nevertheless, you still knew him better than your soulmate. And that petty realization may have contributed to why you accepted his offer for a cafe date.

Semi approached you during lunch one day, not embarrassed in the slightest when he asked you if you wanted to go to a new cafe with him on Friday. “It can be a date, if you want,” he’d told you, eyes flitting to the side momentarily before meeting yours again. “But it doesn't have to be. We can just hang out.”

A bit flustered, you still accepted his offer, figuring a day out wouldn’t do much harm. He smiled at your response, asking you to meet him at his gym after his volleyball practice ended.

You didn’t think much of it. He certainly didn’t pressure you into assuming it was a date, and if you didn’t like it then you could just turn him down for a second date and move on with your single life.

On Friday afternoon, at five PM like he specified over text, you walked into the doorway of the gym, hovering and watching some of the boys clean up any spare equipment left in the gym. You couldn’t spot Semi anywhere, and moved to back away from the door when a familiar voice stopped you.

“[Name].” The sound of your first name coming from the rumble of your voice unwillingly sent shivers through your spine and you chastised yourself for the reaction.

You looked at him, and there he was--sweaty, all dark-hair and olive-eyes and you hated how flustered you got.

You gave him a polite nod and forced your lips into a smile. Despite you not responding verbally, he (uncharacteristically) led the conversation.

“It’s nice to see you here.” The words felt forced, almost rehearsed on his lips, and you couldn’t help the cock of your head in curiosity at that. “The food you made me last time was very good.” A pause, and his eyes turned to the polish wood floor. “Are you here to bring another gift?”

Wakatoshi was straightforward with his question, and at the unfamiliar aloofness you found your ears turning warm and fingers grasping at each other in habit.

“No, um-- I’m actually here to see… someone.”

“...someone?”

“Yeah. Someone.” You didn’t feel like elaborating, and by some sheer luck that you mentally praised the gods for, Semi jogged to your side, changed into his school uniform and a kind smile crossing his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you, turning up to his captain in confusion before focusing on you again. “Ready to go?”

Your eyes were forced off of Wakatoshi’s, and you returned Semi’s expression with a nod. You refused to look the captain in his eyes again, and instead focused on making sure you didn’t trip on the sidewalk while walking with Semi.

---

The date-- hang out-- outing-- whatever you wanted to call it went nicely. You both had pleasant, lighthearted, not-forced conversation over very good coffee and you found it enjoyable.

By the end of the night, while Semi walked you back home, you figured you had to address what you were a bit nervous to address in the first place. After explaining your hesitancy towards calling your hang-outs “dates,” Semi ultimately brushed it off, a smile on his face as he told you he really didn’t care too much and would enjoy just being a friend to you.

You were relieved. A quiet voice deep inside your head told you to not let this poor boy get hopeful when you were still trying to settle things with (read: get over) your soulmate. Regardless of secondhand reasoning, you were thankful he was understanding and also thankful he was willing to be a friend.

---

You found yourself eating lunch with Semi a bit more often than before. It was nice to have someone else’s presence near you while you ate rather than having to sit alone and people-watch through the window of the classroom.

You were startled when Wakatoshi appeared in the doorway of your classroom while in the midst of a conversation with Semi. Noticing your mildly dumbfounded expression, Semi turned around to see where you were looking and looked confusedly at the form of his fellow teammate.

Wakatoshi nodded at him, turned to you, and gave a wave and a very, very subtle upturn of his lips. (Despite the subtlety of the gesture, you had to suppress a gasp that threatened to break past the back of your throat.)

He didn’t make a move to approach you, so you took the opportunity to walk up to him and meet him at the door, unintentionally avoiding the questions Semi shot at you in confusion.

“Hi,” you greeted stiffly. “Do you need something?”

“No. Yes.” Wakatoshi paused, collecting his thoughts. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me.”

It was an unexpected offer, one you deemed uncharacteristic coming from the aloof boy. You let your mind overprocess it before cutting off your overthinking and giving him a proper response.

“I’m eating lunch with Semi today. But maybe tomorrow, if you still want to.”

A foreign look of confusion appeared on his face, his brows furrowed together and head tilting slightly to the side. “Are you dating Semi?”

Wow. Okay. Very straightforward. Very sudden. You certainly were not dating Semi, and you didn’t know how he managed to draw that conclusion after seeing you and Semi interact a total of two times in his presence.

“I’m not…? Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because we’re soulmates.”

Your stomach churned in a mix of emotions. You didn’t know how to describe your feelings--it was an ugly mesh of annoyed, angry, confused, and on-the-verge-of-tears. You found it a bit funny that only now he was acknowledging your soulmate bond. It made the prickling sensation behind your eyes only increase in intensity.

“Right. Um, you… you didn’t really do much about that before.” You tried not to call out word-for-word what he did, but figured a jab at it wouldn’t send you into guiltily reflecting on your past actions while in the shower at midnight.

He was silent, avoiding your gaze and finding interest in the cracked wood of the door. Before your subconscious forced you to apologize, you gave a polite farewell and slid the door halfway shut before returning to your seat.

Semi stared at you incredulously. “Are you…?”

“I don’t know, man.” Despite the sudden lack of appetite (yet again! You really were not good at any form of confrontation), you forced yourself to nibble on your food and pushed down the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

---

Wakatoshi made a point to run into at any time he saw fit, which was very often. He’d find ways to catch you in the morning and say hi, and always invited you to eat lunch with him in his classroom. Out of courtesy, you often accepted his offer, feeling a bit surprised (and wary) when Tendou didn’t appear to accompany the both of you. Those lunch periods were spent in jarring silence, Wakatoshi slowly eating his food (cutely, you noted before burning that thought into the fiery recesses of hell in your mind) and you eating yours while sweating and hoping that you didn’t look weird when you chewed.

This routine kept going on for a solid week. You didn’t know what to expect anymore. Other than the lunch invitations and morning small talk, he didn’t make any outstanding gestures towards you to try to get closer. You didn’t know if that was good or bad.

One day, during lunch when you’d hesitantly accepted yet another offer to eat with him (ignoring Semi’s teasing look when you left the classroom), he made another strange offer, diverting from the usual discussions of weather, clubs, and schoolwork.

“I have a game soon.” He started off. “I’d like you to come watch.”

You paused, staring into your rice in an empty hope that it’d give you a clue on how to respond.

“It’s on Saturday. At twelve. The gymnasium isn’t too far from here. I’d like to take you to dinner afterwards.”

Oh. Oh. That was unexpected. And you were expecting the unexpected. Then again, maybe you should’ve figured that eventually he may have made some sort of move after waiting a week with bated breath.

Your lips parted, but no noise escaped. You wanted to accept, definitely, but you also wanted to be a little aware of his intentions.

“Um…” You floundered a little bit, “I’ll see if I can make it. But… um, dinner?”

“Yes.” Though his voice was steady and deep as always, you sensed hesitance in the way his eyes shifted away from yours and into his lunch. “A date.”

It was a relief to hear him just say it rather than beating around the bush. You cleared your throat in habit and scratched the skin of your thumb.

“Oh. Okay. That would… be nice.”

He smiled. It wasn’t the occasional tilt of his lips, it was a smile. Stretched lips, crinkled eyes and all. You lost your breath at the sight and a soundless laugh escaped your lips.

“Yes. I think so too.”

It was a slow start. It would take some getting used to. But you were both willing to guide each other, slow and steady.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #ushijima wakatoshi #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima #wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years

Text

I just want us to be safe – Chapter 2 (Andy Barber x Daughter!Reader)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter / I just want us to be safe-Masterlist

Summary: You managed to convince your dad to let you help him with this difficult case. Your years at law school were not completely useless & that much your dad knew as well. It was time to interrogate a few teenagers of Newton High. Who thought it would lead you to think this way?

Words: 2,448

Warnings: language (the opportunity was given, come on), father-daughter-dream team (not a real warning but it’s cute), besides that this chapter is good to go

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

When you pulled into your driveway, you could already see your dad waiting for you. You parked your car, got out & ran for him immediately. He welcomed you with open arms & you closed your eyes when you finally reached him. You were all okay but the thought itself was scary.

“You alright?“ dad asked you & you nodded in return. He knew you wanted to know as much as he did & since it was his case, he had quite some information. Dad & you made your way inside where Laurie was already waiting for you. As soon as she saw you, she got up & ran over to you, embracing you in a hug. You were just happy to see all of them but unfortunately, Jacob was still locked inside school.

“The victim was found stabbed in the woods, just a bit away from the way Jake usually takes. It looked brutal, I’m glad you didn’t have to see this.“ dad inhaled & closed his eyes for a second, the images popping into his head again. “It was Ben. You know him, don’t you?“

“Ben? Ben Rifkin? The boy who goes to Jay’s class?“ you were shocked to say the least. When you saw your dad nod you continued. “Knowing is definitely the wrong word. I just knew he was in the same class as Jay. He always seemed like a nice guy…Oh my god…this is…I don’t know what to say.“ you honestly said, your voice breaking throughout your sentence. Dad laid his arm across your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. Even though you did not know Ben personally, you were sorry this had happened. What was his family going through? Laurie mostly sat next to you in silence, processing it differently.

A few minutes of silence passed & you heard the door unlock. This had to be Jacob. You were right, he stepped inside, his expression not readable. He did not look scared or broken but neither did he look happy, obviously. The four of you went into a group hug, grateful that you were all here, together. Jacob was not in the mood for talking so you decided to let him go to his room. Maybe he just needed some alone time to process what had happened today. Dad did tell him that the victim was Ben but still, Jacob did not show any emotions.

“We weren’t friends, really, just regular classmates, you know?“ & with that, dad stopped asking Jacob about it, wanting for him to rest a bit after this eventful day. Laurie decided on doing the same, so she went into her & dad’s bedroom, closing the door. She would probably do some reading. She always did when she wanted to calm down.

Now, your dad & you were alone in the kitchen. Dad’s laptop was already sitting on top of the counter, ready to do some research, as his boss had told him to do. Yet, you did not leave his side. You were not attending law school for no reason. The crime solving had always fascinated you & dad let you have an insight in his cases every now & then. Two people working towards one goal was faster than one so you asked, not caring about your dad’s answer at all, knowing you had to convince him to let yourself be of help.

“Dad? I’d like to help you with this case.“ you stated confidently. You knew his answer as soon as his eyes had met yours. His face told you everything.

“Nope. Don’t even think about it. I’m fine, I can deal with this on my own. I don’t wanna make you a part of this, that’s no joke. This is dangerous, (Y/N).“ the way he called you by your real name surprised you a bit. He only ever used it when he was serious about something. Yet, you could not let him do this alone. It would be so helpful for college so you tried again.

“I am aware of the danger, dad. I wasn’t saying that I’d like to take over. Just helping with research, maybe even interrogations, you know, like we have done a couple times already.“ while saying that, you made sure to look directly into his eyes, trying to sound as confident as possible. Apparently it had worked because you saw your dad’s expression soften & knew you had him wrapped around your finger. You know, you were damn good at doing research, always finding the right sources & clues that helped with solving a case. Dad obviously knew that as well, so he agreed on you helping him. He told you that you had to obey his orders, especially with this case & you were fine with this. So in order to work faster, you ran up to your room, grabbed your laptop, made your way downstairs again & sat right next to dad. You still did not have much information but you worked with what you got. Mainly, the two of you searched for similar cases in the area, trying to find any connections but to no avail. A few hours later, you had not checked the time for a while, your dad yawned & stretched. He told you it was time for bed & you were shocked when the time read 3:11 am. College started in a few hours so it was destined to be a short night without much sleep. You would lie if you said that you were not affected by such cases. But that was what the job brought with itself. Sleepless nights & loads of overthinking. Were you ready for all of this in your future? Honestly, yeah. You wanted to help others in a form of bringing justice to suffering people.

6 am, your alarm woke you from your short slumber. Gosh, you were tired but that was nothing you could not manage. Following the same routine as always, you made your way to the kitchen. Everything was the usual. Dad drank his coffee, Laurie went jogging & Jacob was silent, a bit too silent for your liking. When Laurie came back, the discussion started. Dad & Laurie wanted to drive Jacob to school. An obvious reaction to a killer running around. Jacob insisted on walking again & did not want to discuss this any further. You also suggested to drive him, not planning on taking your own car today, but wanting your brother to be safe. All you earned was a glare. Okay, you would not ask him again. Today was your diner-free day so you hopped inside dad’s car, letting him drop you off in front of your college. You bid your goodbyes & told dad you would be coming over to his workplace as soon as you finished your classes. He agreed, you had been at his work a couple times already, & drove off.

News were spreading fast & so was the fact that your dad, Andy Barber, had been assigned to this case. You were surrounded by law students, just as curious as you were, so of course they asked you if you knew more than the media released. The promise you made prevented you from spilling too much so you went with the typical “That’s all we know, too.“ phrase. Lucky you, you only had one class today & after this, you walked to your dad’s office. Office? More like his workplace but whatever. You loved it there. The atmosphere, the people, the cause. Sometimes you even imagined yourself working there. Maybe your dream would come true in a few years, after successfully graduating from law school. Entering, you saw your dad on his way in his boss‘ office. He was so focused that he did not even see you walk in. Not wanting to interrupt their meeting, you waited outside, greeted some of dad’s colleagues & sat in one of the many chairs. From what you could read from their expressions, it was not a simple “updating“ meeting. When you saw your dad’s favorite colleague walk in, you knew something was off. Oh how much you hated that guy. What was his name again? Neal Logidiudice? Logidouche? Who the hell even cared, he was an asshole, that much you knew. They discussed for a few more minutes until your dad exited the office, spotting you & walking over to you. Okay, dad did not look pissed, more like accomplished. That was a good sign.

“Hi there, angel! Here so soon?“ he questioned.

“Just had one class today so I thought I’d come by earlier. Let me tell you, law students are horrible when it comes to being curious. Am I this bad, too?“ you asked, more to yourself but still loud enough for him to hear.

“Bullshit, you know the way, you’re more experienced than most of them.“ his statement made you smile.

“Soooo? What were you guys talking about? And what the hell did Detective Douche do in there?“ your last part made your dad laugh. You were a bit obsessed with “Lucifer“ so every time you saw one of dad’s co-workers you did not like, you gave them this name.

“My boss wanted to pass this case to him. You know, because of me having a relationship with some parents & students. After some convincing from my side, she agreed on letting me do it anyway. Good sign, angel, you can come with me to Newton High to interrogate a few kids. You in?“ your response was a smirk. Of course you would accompany him. You loved helping him with his job.

Dad, Detective Paula Duffy & you grabbed a few things & made your way over to Newton High. While being in the car, dad told you a few rules you had to follow during the talks with the kids. You knew how to behave during an interrogation. The two of you had gone over the steps multiple times. Yet, he felt more comfortable with telling you again & again, especially while on the way to an important appointment. So you kept listening, knowing how much of a deal it was for him. Arriving at the school’s parking lot, everything seemed normal. Nobody would have guessed that there had been a murder nearby a day prior. When the two of you stepped out of the car & met with Detective Paula Duffy again, you went over to the entrance. The principal awaited you & made you follow him to a separate, empty classroom. There was just one table at the very center. You thought that there probably were kids who could be a tiny bit scared of this sort of confrontation. They might be younger but there sure as hell were not dumb. Kids always knew more than they were revealing. You had been to high school, you knew the deal. You thought it was a good idea to let them know your apprehension. Because of that, the two of them decided to integrate you in the talks. They thought that the kids were more comfortable with talking to a younger one. Of course you were happy to hear that. They trusted you enough to include you. You all got seated on one side of the table, leaving a single chair at the opposite side for the kids.

You had lost count about how many children had been in there. There was nobody who gave you new information. Mostly, the teenagers were shocked to find out about Andy Barber, Jacob’s father. Some of them even recognized you, telling you they had seen you around a few years prior. Even though all three of you tried to get at least a tiny bit out of the kids, it was useless. It was time for the last kid of the day. You were tired. Sitting there for hours, interrogating teenager after teenager without success was exhausting. The last interrogation was with a girl. She looked cute, nice & smart. One of her first questions was addressed to your dad.

“Are you Jacob Barber’s dad?” your dad, being tired of the statement he had heard so many times already, simply smiled & nodded. Her next question, though, brought your attention back.

“Have you talked to him about it?” her face shifted but you could not quite make out what her expression looked like. It was a normal question but to you, something did not make sense. You let your dad answer, not really knowing what to say yourself.

“Um…you mean if I have talked to Jacob about this situation? No, not yet.” your dad barely ever stuttered so that was another unusual thing.

“Maybe you should. Can I go now?” the question everyone asked as soon as they wanted to get out of there. Your dad gave her his card, telling her to immediately call this number if she remembered anything or if she saw anything. She nodded, making her way towards the door, looking back one more time, her face showing…pity? Now that was interesting.

“We’re done for today. Go home, we’ll keep working tomorrow.” the Detective said. She said goodbye & walked out of the room, leaving you & dad alone.

Back in the car, you could not get this girl out of your head. Her words seemed to activate something inside of you & you started growing concerned. Not wanting to wait any longer, you asked what you had on your mind.

“Do you think Jacob knows more than he lets us know?” even though you faced the street in front of you, you saw dad looking at you from the corner of your eye.

“Seriously?” he let out a low chuckle. “Angel, we’ve talked to him. He doesn’t know anything else, he promised.” Dad reassured you.

“Can we be sure, though? Maybe this girl has a point. Should we ask him again?” you were scared. You hated yourself for even believing that your little brother Jacob had been hiding the entire truth from you. But you were trying to solve a case & that meant that you had to consider every possibility. The thought made you sick.

“(Y/N).” his voice was more serious now. “We know Jake, if he knew something, he would’ve told us.” He reasoned.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, this case just…you know, not easy.” you tried to explain. Your dad nodded, understanding you were a bit confused with this situation. As he kept driving, you could not help your thoughts wandering back to the slight possibility of Jacob being involved. How could you ever doubt your own brother? But on the other hand, was the doubting justified?

~to be continued~

Published (01/05/2020) by Cathy

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rehziria · 4 years

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Takami

So... I like to think Takami the thief was stealing to help their sick son. I saw several posts about Horikoshi basing Hawks’s childhood after a soccer player named Lionel Messi who was sickly. FC Barcelona offered to pay for his medical expenses if he played for them. Maybe Keigo was also sickly then? In his flashback though, the HPSC doesn’t mention anything about it. So maybe it came into play in a different way? Maybe Takami was stealing to pay Keigo’s medical bills. But maybe it wasn’t enough, so when they saw Keigo’s quirk they realized they could have an easier time stealing and thus paying Keigo’s bills. Many people in BNHA becomes villains, especially thieves, when their desperate. Not just when their angry. So what if Takami was just that? Desperate. And when their son could help them solve their problem, well why not? They could keep them safe anyway. -- So here’s my extensive stupid idea as to why I think this. 1st. - Keigo was already amazing at using his quirk at such a young age. And yea, that could mean he was just a prodigy. But maybe he wasn’t? 2nd. - We also know that according to baby Hawks, he was saved, most likely by Endeavor since he’s looking at the Endeavor doll while he speaks. 3rd. If we look at current Hawks when he’s talking to Twice, we see a baby Hawks surrounded by pieces of rubble barely peeking out from behind the speech bubble. It looks like maybe this is the scene where Endeavor saved him and it must have been a pretty big fight to have rubble everywhere. (Although Endeavor does overdue things.) Now it’s possible this was some random villain attack and Keigo happened to be there. But what if it wasn’t random? 4th. Everything Horikoshi does seems to have a reason. Name drops are no exception. So why would Ending mention Takami the thief? Well most would say to point out that Hawks had a parent that was a thief and that makes him the opposite of Dabi who’s a villain with a Hero parent. But maybe it was another clue to something else. ----So listen. I’m going to try and put my thoughts out here to try and explain my dumb energy. This is going to go all over the place because I suck at English. I’m sorry in advance. But I want to touch on my reasons for Keigo being used and the thief Takami themselves. --First is Takami and their quirk. Quirks can be several things. A combination of the two parental quirks. (like Bakugou) -extremely common A complete copy. (I think this actually ain’t that common) A completely new, mutation type quirk. (like Eri) -extremely rare If we’re going with the more common seen one. That would be the combination. Now that would mean for Keigo. One parent had wings (bigger or smaller) and the other had telekinesis. I personally like Takami having wings, but unless they can also detach them and stuff, they probably had telekinesis; since wings wouldn’t be great for stealing and hard to hide. Plus with a telekinesis quirk, grabbing things and running is easy. Now was it a strong telekinesis? Meaning possibly throwing vending machines or even cars at people. Or was it weak and similar to Inko Midoriya, only able to throw small and light objects. Honestly? I’m going to go with it was actually pretty strong. Ending mentions how bright and crazy Endeavor’s flames were when he captured the thief Takami. Which means whoever Takami was and whatever quirk they had, it was pretty dang strong or they were at least really skilled to get Endeavor to use his flames a lot. --Now back to Keigo. So Takami sees Keigo able to use his feathers like they uses objects and BAM IDEA. Let’s use these feathers as a distraction or smokescreen kind of effect. And if they discovered he could sharpen them, well things just get better from there. A flurry of dagger-like feathers is actually kind terrifying and can cause a lot of confusion. So Takami gets this brilliant idea and tells Keigo he’s going to start helping them steal. Keigo doesn’t want to though, he knows even at this age it’s wrong and villains hurt people. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody. Takami doesn’t care and uses grown up logic or threats to convince Keigo to do it anyway. --So they start stealing all sorts of things, Keigo being miserable the entire time. People are confused and scared because Takami was already a problem and now they’ve got this kid with them using dagger feathers on people. Endeavor get’s called in because he can certainly handle it. Takami and him fight and Endeavor of course wins. Takami is arrested and Keigo is ‘saved’ from a life he didn’t want and a parent who didn’t seem to care about him. Endeavor is seen as something amazing at this point. Somebody that beats up bad guys and shines brightly while doing so. Keigo wants to be like that. Nobody is probably going to read the whole thing because I’m sure it’s painful to read through. But I thank you to anyone that does! I spent over an hour trying to make this readable. Also... I wonder if Ending was friends with Takami? My brain thought about it one day. Like Takami had a small gang of fellow thieves. Probably not, but that’s a thing now. lol

#hawks #thief Takami #my hero academia #crack theories #bnha #Endeavor

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fantroll-purgatory · 4 years

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Xanatl Cambre, or whatever!

I read homestuck the first time when I was 13 and now that I’m rereading it I realized I processed almost 0 things in it the first time. So this is BASICALLY my first homestuck oc as someone who understands what the hell is happening in homestuck. I’m only about 3000 pages in, so I might have some misunderstandings still, sorry! Please go crazy telling me what I could fix or change, and I also have 0 clue for his appearance soooo.

Okay! I’ll do my best to tighten this character up a bit!

Name: Xanatl Cambre

Pronounced “Shan-uh-teal Cam-bray” (for the Aztec god Xolotl, and the coloration of darker axolotl’s- axanthic + the Spanish words for walk and fire/light)

Camnar is a seven-sweep-old violet-blooded troll who failed to fully complete his metamorphosis, for some reason or another- it happens! He possesses an extra set of fully functioning arms, a small flippy-flappy finny-tail-nub, and big bright purple shiny eyes. Everything else seems like it’s grown in okay, probably. Though he was fully capable of surviving his grub trials, his defects are admittedly uncomfortable enough to maybe have earned culling when he was only a few sweeps old, if not for [name here], a jade-blood with a penchant for healthy freaks and everything there is to learn about them (ESPECIALLY messed-up metamorphisizers) assisting in chopping off the extra bits every once in a while when drones come around. And definitely NOT keeping them in a walk in freezer to study. He’s not crippled or weakened by any of them, anyways, they’re just weird to look at- his eyesight might not be great, but he wouldn’t admit it.

Fire, salamanders in general, the Aztec god Xolotl, and all around childish imbecility are all pretty big parts of and inspiration for his character.

Hmmm. I feel like this passage comes off as fairly ableist, so watch your language here (i.e. “freaks,” “crippled,” “childish imbecility,” etc.). There is nothing wrong with a jadeblood being interested in mutants who remain healthy or in Xanatl not being weakened by losing body parts or even in him being childishly careless but language matters and I don’t feel comfortable letting it slide.

Interests: Penchant for outdoor land activities, especially camping. Loves using the time on those camp-outs to start fires, make star-maps, and attempt to commune with the dead through rituals found on old forums (with little success).

I like this bit as an emphasis on the fire theme, and I actually really like that you made a seadweller with that fire theme!

A very keen interest in the occult and black magyks generally, but too lazy to go all the way with it, and too scared to perform it in his underwater home. A notable interest in weather-tracking, especially large storms and how they grow, change, and die. Mild inclinations to cannibalize other trolls- luckily, most don’t fit in his mouth.

WGAT

Finds great joy in training his lusus to do tricks and assist in hunting for dinner. A great cook! Especially loves spicy food (mustard flowers grow around his hive, and he uses their seeds/”eye of newt” for a kick a lot of the time). General propensity to put whatever he can fit into his mouth in his mouth that caused a lot of sickness as a young troll. One of his favorite non-food things to eat that isn’t necessarily dangerous are agave americana plants, which he grows and keeps all over the top floor of hive (he probably could not keep any other plants alive). Spends a lot of time with [insert jadeblood’s name], but mostly out of the obligation of their friendship, because he’s kind of tired of her cutting his fingers off to study their regrowth. He’s also mildly obsessed with siren stories and myths, but he doesn’t really know why.

He lives in a two-story hive. The lower story sits below the water in a somewhat shallow muddy canal, and the top half hugs the shoreline. He spends most of his time in the bottom half, though.

Ooooh I really like that setup!

Personality: He’s kind of a coward. Very averse to change, but not fully content in his quiet life. He doesn’t particularly like company and when other trolls are around he feels urges to hurt them until they go away/are digested. Those urges don’t make him uncomfortable or guilty. It’s natural! Despite enjoying his outside time, most things he indulges in are sedentary- he’s very lazy and drowsy most hours of the night. He’s very defensive of his interests and his home, a little insecure in general. His high caste boosts his self esteem and his mutations knock it down- though he’s very removed from his society as a whole, self isolating with abandon, he dreams of mingling with the upper class in the deep ocean. Every troll and lusus around would probably kill him if he tried though, haha! He doesn’t like to talk about his emotions, or his future.

Wow unfortunate mood.

Special Abilities: None! Not notably strong, compared to any of his peers. A pretty normal kid/fish. Well, his extra arms and tail have some regenerative properties- he’s not sure if this extends to the rest of his body, and he refuses to test it.

Strife Specibus: Mandible-kind. Xanatl’s teeth are fairly small and underdeveloped, sharp but tiny. He has a set of big dentures he fits over his own teeth, fixed from a few native canal beasts lost teef.

Ooooh I really like that! You could also maybe have him fashion Greek-fire like molotov cocktails that he is verrrry reticent to use since it would burn his house down possibly.

Fetch Modus: Not sure! Maybe something to do with those lame circular life-cycle charts. Or a call to lotl’s regenerative abilities, like it breaks a piece off the item and it has to regrow so he can use it.

Hmmmm. What about a MITOSIS MODUS, which accepts an item and begins the process of cell division. For the next 24 hours, the item is inaccessible, but after those 24 hours he has two of the item!

Symbol and Meaning: Oh, no idea.

I’ll explain a little more down under title assignation, but I think Aquamini, Sign of the Idiosyncratic works exceptionally well.

Handle: neotenticSalamancer OR neotenicNecramander ? I wasn’t sure if it HAD to follow the GCAT thing, and if it did, what to use.

You don’t have to follow GCAT! Those trolltags were specific to Hussie’s narrative and you don’t have to adopt that convention. I actually really like neotenicNecromander it’s cute.

Quirk: So I have two ideas for this:

replaces “sh” sounds with “x”, misspells often, not one to xout or use capital letters in general, and ends sentences with his tail =>

u232 3 to r3plac3 “e” and 2 to r3plac3 “s”, 32 billion b3ing th3 numb3r of ba23 pair2 in th3 axolotl2 g3nom3… 2till u232 th3 cut3 tail too tho =>

Ooooh I like the first one for readability! Like yes leetspeak is a valid quirk but also I like when people break from that.

Lusus: Giant salamander-sized two-faced Xoloitzcuintli-type amphibious woofbeast. Not sure what to call this guy! Maybe “Mudpapi”, like mudpuppy.

I love that nickname :D

Land: Land of Tilapia and Lightning, LOTaL (haha). Big beasts and big storms both threatening to swallow him.

I super appreciate the acronym so I wanna keep that, but the first word of the Land usually related to its feel and the second to its quest. I can kiiiinda see how you could build a quest around lightning but the Vibe being tilapia doesn’t quite track for me. What about Land of Torches and Lightning, so it’s a bright planet but with two light sources trying to extinguish one another?

Title: I’m not sure I want him to ever god-tier because of his crippling fear of death and change. Like he would probably just blatantly refuse to, and stay content with being at the top of the echeladder pre-god tiers. I don’t know what his title would be, it’s a tough one! It’d be funny to make him a seer (for axolotl’s terrible eyesight, and the myth of xolotl crying his literal eyes out), but he’s probably a page. Of what? I’unno.

:) I think he is for SURE a Page of Doom then. He has so much to do with death and rot and a lack of embracing that, and I can see potential for the character to really grow into that.

Lunar Sway: Derse? I’m inclined to want to give him both, because of the minor twin theming, but not sure what the rules are there.

Ehhhh his personality is a lot more Derse with the desire for control over his circumstances. There are certainly cases where characters can have two moons but I don’t think this is it.

Thank you!!

No problem! I hope this helped!

-TR

#violetblood #seadweller #submission #review #tr review #xanatl #cambre #xanatl cambre #anonymous

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nightowlfandom · 5 years

Text

Songwriting- Namjoon (Part 1)

REQUEST FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE! (I also write for a lot of anime shows too wink wonk. )

No prompts because this wasn’t requested!

Leggo!

...

You walked back into the room with the bottle of water he had requested. Namjoon was hunched over the coffee table, a pen tapping aimlessly against the pages of your notebook, which was sprawled open. You two had been like that for a while. A while meaning four hours. The idol life wasn't an easy one, this was a really good reason why.

It wasn't that you weren't excited to be working with the famous RM. If anything you were through the roof. This was big! Very big! However, after three hours of being in the same room, on a couch, doing legitimately nothing. You were more than done.

You thought that two songwriters, two performers in the same atmosphere would be easy. When it came down to it, it wasn't that your ideas were different.

Neither of you had ideas to begin with! Which wasn't uncommon but damn sure of an inconvenience.

"Here you go." you sat back down, holding the bottle towards him.

"Thank you." he shot you a smile. "Any ideas while you were in there?" he joked.

"Not one, unless you want to sing about eggs and expired seasonings." you groaned. "You?" you asked, crossing your legs on the sofa. "At this rate, we're gonna be singing about the random weeds growing out of the ground." you grumbled.

Namjoon nodded in agreement, it wasn't like him to have writers block and he didn't like it. His eyes moved from the pen, back to the notebook. Just one phrase, one! Even a word would help.

" Maybe we should take a break." Namjoon threw the pen down. "How about we get to know eachother?" he asked. "Maybe something will come to us." he suggested. "It's better than just sitting here."

"Yeah, sure." You were a bit hesitant. You both were on a deadline. Technically it wasn't for a while, but every minute count. Then again, it couldn't hurt, right?

"Cool" he smiled again. "You first."

"Well, my full name is Y/N L/N. I'm from (Insert City, Country). I didn't plan on ever being where I am today." you trailed off.

Namjoon explained his life to you, and you listened intently. Nodding every so often. He seemed interested, which you respected.

"What's your love life like?" he asked suddenly, making your eyes widen. What a strange question to ask.

"Non-existent." you laughed, picking up the pen. "I'm far too busy for a boyfriend."

"So you just sing, go home, rinse and repeat??" he asked, his eyes narrowed a bit.

"Haven't found a guy I like...or a guy who likes me." you replied, smiling sadly. Namjoon slipped the pen from your fingertips.

"Have you looked?" he asked, his sudden interest in the topic scared you. "Of course. I just wasn't able to..." You sighed. "It's hard to find someone genuinely interested in me outside my career. I've never met a man who can see past my stage name." You shook your head.

"I know the feeling." he sighed. "That would make for an interesting track." his head suddenly perked up, as if something was on his mind. " Love and fake relationships?" you joked. Seeing his serious face sort of worried you.

Oh fuck he was serious.

.......

"And that's done!" you cheered. You let out a huge yawn. "We finally did it." You stared at the clock. 1:00 AM...you've spent nearly 13 hours writing a song...how sad.

"Yeah told you something would come to us." he smiled, scribbling down what was left. "We just had to be patient." You let out a yawn, nodding in agreement. "I guess you were right then Namjoon." you smiled. "Though writing a song about failed relationship history and all that kind of worries me." you expressed.

"Why?" he asked. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" he raised a brow.

"No, I mean. My music and sound isn't like that. I know yours isn't either." you began. "Plus, it feels so personal."

"All the best sounds are." he reassured you. "It'll be fine, I promise.”

“I hope.” you nudged him, smiling sideways.

He returned your smile.

“Hey Y/N...you have something. Like...lint or something on your shoulder.” he motioned to his shoulder, causing you to mirror his motions. “No, further up.” he said. you moved up your shoulder, still not seeing anything. “Here, let me.” he sighed. His hand was on your shoulder.

“There.” he flicked whatever had been on your shoulder off, but his hand never left your shoulder. You met his eyes, shyness overcoming you. Namjoon wasn’t readable, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Namjoon?” you asks.

“...Can I jus-” he leaned down and slowly connected your lips. “Hmm.” he sighed. He pulled away when he realized what he had done.

“I am so sorry!” you suddenly said, as if you were the one who kissed him.

“No no! I have no clue what came over me..you’re just so...” he stopped himself from speaking. “I should go, I gotta get back to my place and start working on the music and-”

“Yeah!.” you agreed. “I gotta get some sleep and you know rehearse and test my voice for the song.” you stumbled over your word and Namjoon scrambled to collect his belongings.

“I’ll see you later!” you called as he called a hasty goodbye as he ran out with a loud goodbye.

“Woah...”you touched your lips, still seemingly feeling Namjoon’s imprint on them.

....

“Woah.” Namjoon touched his lips, his back against the now closed door. “

(This was an old draft I had lying around so I figured why not post the shit!)

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sea-side-scribbles · 4 years

Text

Doubled Back

Parallel Universe, Higgs vs Higgs, I have weird ideas sometimes...

Rating: M

Chapters 2/?

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860554/chapters/52173571

Higgs shoots himself on the beach, so he won’t go insane.

What ensues from that makes him think it was already too late.

Chapter 1

Higgs had imagined the afterlife to be different, he immediately thought when the shot still echoed in his ears. He didn’t want to be insolent, but he didn’t expect to be lied down on a comfy mattress. He had reflexively curled his fingers into it when he had felt himself fall into the blackness. Soon after, he took his first breath after the shot and puzzled by that, he ripped his eyes open. It was revealed to him that he was indeed just lying in a bed, his heart pounding in his chest.

He felt alive.

He jumped up and stared at the walls that surrounded him. He found that they looked very familiar. He walked over to a notice board and touched it’s cold surface. It felt very real. Still confused, he stepped backwards and let his gaze wander over the widespread network that occupied the whole room. Notes, photos, ripped out pages of books, all combined to one big picture, a sign of his former enthusiastic self. He saw his plan, his faith, screaming at him from the walls. „Amelie, my lord and savior“, was smeared in black all over it.

He backed away, feeling he was about to choke on the sight. It was nothing but a shameless lie. Why was he back here to look at it? Did Amelie send him here to be embarrassed for one last time? There was only one way to deal with her precious altar of lies.

With a war cry, he jumped at his old plans, ripped the pages apart, pulled out the cord that was holding them together and tore the photos apart. Soon, there was nothing left of his great plan than crumbled pieces of paper on the ground. He found that this was really fun, so he eagerly continued his work with smashing everything he could find against the walls.

He grabbed a knife that had lied on the table and started to slice wildly creative patterns into everything he could reach. He ran the knife over every writing he found, until they were barely readable. Finally, he slashed the paddings of the furniture like a furious killer who was searching for his victim that hid in the room somewhere.

The only picture he left intact was one flyer with Fragile’s banner on it, which he placed right in the middle of the shredded board.

When he didn’t find anything more to destroy, he leaned at the door and looked at his work with a satisfied grin. Finally, he saw the truth. Now he had to get out of here though, his past still choked him.

By then he knew that he was in his Homo Demens quarters, so he expected the two guards already who patrolled the corridor. They saluted nervously. They probably heard the noise his little endeavor had caused. One of them however had the courage to approach him, even though cautiously, like Higgs was a wild animal.

„Master Higgs…“

„What?“ Higgs didn’t hide his annoyance. He only wanted to leave, this place was like a cord around his throat.

„Forgive me asking but…don’t you…have a meeting now?

Higgs only stopped walking and kept looking straightforward. „The meeting is cancelled,“ he decided, „be a good boy and give the word, alright?“

„Yes, sir.“ And so he walked away and Higgs could continue his slow escape.

When the guard reached the meeting room and went inside, he came upon a big surprise. The assembly was complete and everyone seemed to listen to Higgs, who he had just interrupted in mid sentence.

„Master…Master Higgs? You…changed your mind?“, he stuttered into the awkward silence. He definitely didn’t appreciate this kind of humor. The look Higgs gave him also sent a cold shiver down his spine.

„Would you excuse me just a minute?“, his master said and walked out, his devastated guard following him.

„How long have you been my guard now?“, he asked sharply.

„For about five years, sir,“ his guard replied in a meek tone.

„And in all that time you didn’t notice how much I hate it to be interrupted?“

„You..you left me no choice, sir.“

He saw his master was slightly irritated by his guard’s candor.

„Explain,“ he ordered.

The guard assumed that this was some drill he didn’t understand yet.

„Just a minute ago you walked out of your quarters and told me that the meeting is cancelled and ordered me to give the word,“ he repeated what happened.

His master’s irritation turned into fury.

„I’ve been here for 20 minutes,“ he snapped. „You’re telling me that you let someone break into my room and let him go afterwards?“

„He…he looked exactly like you sir,“ the guard whimpered, still hoping this was some kind of cruel joke.

His master processed this information for a second before he yelled. „What are you waiting for? Seal the doors and find the man!“

Higgs was about to reach the entrance hall when he heard the alarm. With multiple loud crashes the doors got sealed and soon the room was flooded by Homo Demens that blocked the exit with their guns ready. Higgs watched this show with amusement and surprise. Without any fear, he approached the armed men.

„May I politely ask you what this fuss is about?“

Ruyther stepped forward. He was one of his most trusted men. A sign that this was a rather serious matter. „I apologize, but the order came directly from…Master Higgs,“ he said knitting his brows.

Higgs looked at him with an innocent expression.

„Oh, did it?“, he asked in fake surprise. „Don’t you think I should know about this then?“

Ruyther replied with a concerned expression. „It says we have an intruder, a doppelganger, to be precise.“

Higgs couldn’t believe his ears. What was that shit now?

„A doppelganger, eh?“, he repeated and stroked his chin seemingly deep in thoughts. „Hmm…I wonder what gave him this idea? I hope he’s not completely unguarded now and walking around in our headquarters…“

„Of course not,“ the other man said in a factual tone. „He’s just as guarded as you are, but also a whole unity has confirmed his identity.“

„What?“, Higgs blurted out. „You can’t be fucking serious! I’m here! Ruyther, it’s me! Look at me!“

Ruyther eyed the other man’s face under the hood for a while until he answered: „You’re looking…different to me, sir…“.

That caused the men around him to tense.

„What do you mean?“ Higgs’ voice was menacingly quiet. He also fought the urge to take off the hood but he would never expose his face like that.

„You’re looking…a bit younger…“, his guard stuttered.

Higgs laughed. „Oh, thank you“, he said with a charming smile. „You always find an occasion to flatter me, don’t you? But now I need to go, if you don’t mind.“

He walked towards the men but he only ended up with seven guns now aiming at him directly. Holding up his hands in fake surrender he stepped backwards again. „Aren’t you guys on edge today?,“ he snapped.

„You don’t seem to be very interested in that intruder…“, Ruyther observed warily.

Higgs sighted and wiped his forehead.

He knew Ruyther had a point. He would be eager to find this impertinent imposter if he wasn’t actually dead. He just shot himself minutes ago, he found that was enough shit to deal with for one day.

„I’m busy…“, he said in annoyance, „just arrest him, ask him who he’s working for and do your usual routine…I’ll be back soon.“

His guard didn’t give up.

„Sir, you need to give us a sign. A short demonstration of your powers would be enough,“ he offered sternly and his men shrank behind him. His powers were the last thing any of the Homo Demens wanted to be demonstrated. Especially not when Higgs was in a bad mood like now.

Higgs however realized what he had been missing the entire time. Ever since the beach, to be clear. When Amelie left him, she had taken her powers with her, so Higgs had been powerless when Fragile granted him the opportunity to kill himself and he was still powerless now. He closed his eyes, a reaction to compensate his embarrassment. If he ever met that bitch Amelie again, he would drown her in her own ocean.

But he wouldn’t let her break him this time. He would play along as far as necessary but he won’t be her pawn.

The guards that had stared at Higgs in horror relaxed again when he opened his eyes and nothing bad happened.

„Alright, you got me,“ he sighted. „Let’s look at my imposter with his incredible powers. Can’t wait to meet him.“

„I’m sorry for all of this,“ Ruyther said in all honesty.

Higgs eyed him and his sarcasm turned into sympathy.

„It’s not your fault…you’re just being careful…“

He turned around and let himself be walked off along the hallways. He didn’t look forward to this at all. He was afraid to be exposed by some tar wizard, some level 2 or 3 who could summon little tar drops and faint shadows that looked like a BT for someone who had no clue what they really looked like. And Higgs couldn’t prove him wrong. What a shitty day.

He was glad that the imposter was at least indeed guarded. His office now was crowded with Demens who gathered around the guy. What Higgs didn’t notice was that all of them stared at him in surprise and then looked back at the other one who stood by the desk, trying to find a difference between them. When Higgs saw that the imposter was standing by his desk like he owned this place and was also turning his back on him he rolled his eyes. He noticed that he was wearing an actually very accurate remake of his own outfit too.

„You’ve been very impolite,“ the imposter greeted him with a voice that sounded alarmingly similar to Higgs’, maybe darker. „You didn’t even introduce yourself. Instead you invaded my private quarters and made quite a mess in them. You also seem to be not very intelligent, because you left a sign of who supposedly sent you quite plain to see. Tell me, what am I supposed to do with you?“

„Turn around, you clown, and show me your face,“ Higgs snarled back.

The room fell silent. Everyone seemed to fear the reaction of the guy by the desk.

„Again you’re impolite,“ he stated, shaking his head. „I don’t tolerate this behavior. Sherkoff, teach him.“ He gave a sign and one man stepped forward and approached Higgs with a sternly look.

Higgs straightened himself and followed the man with his eyes. Another one who had known him for years and didn’t recognize him now. The other man held the gaze, even though he saw into the same eyes his master had.

„Are we doing this?“, Higgs asked defiantly but also with curiosity.

The slap he received was much weaker than the man could manage.

„I know you can do better than that,“ the imposter promptly said.

Higgs now looked rather amused. He had never wished to be slapped by his men but he could appreciate a good comedy. When the man hesitated again, Higgs whispered to him in a friendly way. „C’mon, just do it, we don’t want to make this guy mad, don’t we?“ He winked and tilted his head to the side. „I’ve been veeery impolite.“

The next slap jerked his head to the side and he fell heavy into the arms of the guards behind him.

„Good,“ said the voice by the desk. „Now one more time, just to make sure he gets the message.“

Higgs chuckled, even though his face burned. He lifted himself up and offered the other cheek without protest. The third slap sent him flying to the other side. Struggling up, he saw Sherkoff walk away. His punishment was over.

„I give you a second chance to change your tone, intruder. Just try to mind your words this time. I understand that you’re rather - simple minded.“

Higgs shook his head at that insult. This guy had some nerves. But he had made the message quite clear. His men obeyed him for whatever reason and he had no powers. Time to play along then.

„I…thank you for your patience“, Higgs sounded as submissive as he could while trying not to choke at his words. „Please accept my apologies and let me show you my respect by falling on my knees before you.“

„That’s much better…however your offer means that my men have to release you. I hope that you won’t try anything funny out of your mere simplicity. I’d rather not hurt you more.“

„I won’t try anything, sir,“ Higgs pleaded with a clear innocent voice.

The imposter gave a sign and the guards let go off Higgs, who just as promised sank down on his knees and bowed his head.

Finally, the imposter turned around and came closer.

„See, it’s not that hard to teach even the most stubborn specimen some manners. It only takes patience and a strong hand…“ He concentrated his attention to his men for a second and that was all the time Higgs needed to strike. The knife that once had carved his walls now sliced through the thick material of the other man’s suit. Warm blood sprayed out of it and covered Higgs in bright red drops when he led the knife from the bottom to the top up to the imposter’s chest. Soon, his eyes wandered to the other man’s face and the sight made him cry out it shock.

He saw himself, with distorted features, dead eyes staring into his own, his body slashed and bleeding out. When the body hit the ground he realized he had just killed himself once more.

#death stranding #deathstranding #higgs monaghan #higgs

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neosaysno · 4 years

Text

FantineAquane (Danganronpa)

So I decided to come back to this blog after a year, and I took on a new character. Meet FantineAquane, the SHSL Secret.

...

I’m already scared.

(CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of pedophilia and noncon. Seriously.)

Warning! Because of the nature of this fandom, I will be going into spoiler territory.

Name:FantineAquane Gender: DOB:13 October Blood typeO+ Height:1.78 meter Weight:55 kg

Okay, let’s unpack this, because there’s a good bit here. And we already have problems.

... FantineAquane is NOT a name. That looks like a username of some kind, and when I googled FantineAquane, I discovered that it was indeed used as a username! I also managed to track down the creator, but I’m not really going to bother...

Why is the Gender thing blank? Even if you’re nonbinary, agender, whatever, that would be listed. However, the rest of the profile uses “she/her” pronouns and calls her a “girl”, so I’m going to go ahead with calling Fantine a girl for the rest of this.

No issues with the birthday, but she’s slightly underweight, which is an unfortunately common thing in OCs. Thankfully it’s not too egregious (Less than ten pounds underweight).

FantineAquane is tall-slim girl.She has long straight-wavy purple-black acid type haired.She weared purple short jacket with a long sleeves,old white worned brassier and worn daisy dukes.She has big blue-bright cerulean eyes with long eyelashes.She has a faded scars inside her jacket.

That grammar... Ughhh. It’s not /that/ bad, but it clearly tells me the writer isn’t a native English speaker. Or if they are, they’re flat out terrible at it.

Pray for me while I decipher this. It feels like I’m solving a worse Metheus puzzle.

Tall and slim... Okay, she’s about 5′8, so she’s actually decently tall for a... wait, how old is she?!

This is an actual problem. We don’t even have a listed age range. This is a problem for a Danganronpa OC! Even the DR1 students at least had age ranges, from sixteen at the youngest, presumably. (Well, they were a year or two older because of the lost memories, but that’s not too much to bring up.) What IS the problem is that we have no listed age. Yes, I am nitpicking that.

And “acid”... I’m gonna assume that’s neon hair. I am not going to provide a visual reference because that would mean your eyes will hurt.

That’s not even that appropriate! We don’t see Danganronpa students walking around with neon hair! Ibuki and Souda are the only people who remotely fit that, and their hair is toned down enough to not be painful to the eyes. Our solace here is that the art doesn’t hurt to look at.

And why is she only wearing a jacket over her bra?! Where’s her shirt?! Even Aoi had a shirt! While yes, girl power and all, that’s just flat out inappropriate! I’m assuming this is JUST killing game garb, but I sure as hell hope Fantine wears the uniform during school years! Most, if not all schools would take disciplinary action if you walked in wearing that kind of outfit!

(Note, Angie technically is wearing a swimsuit, so I’m not going to bring that up, but the clothing description confirms that this is a full out bra that Fantine has, not a bikini top.)

No comment on the eyes, but the scars (or... scar? See, this is why you need to have decent grammar) don’t seem to be brought up elsewhere, so -1 point.

FantineAquane is a kind,curious,sociable,clueless,funny,sensitive girl.But instead she’s the revengeable and up raged girl as someone who insulted her as a prostitude and insulting her friends.She kinda bitchy as she loves the lust and sexual things.But it doesn’t mean she’s an idiot and prideless person.She wants to be a hopeful person who saves the suvivors from death.She can knows someone secret only a sight.

AUGH. This is pure word vomit. Gibberish. Nonsense. Whatever you want to call it. What the shiny mystical hell am I looking at?! None of these line up! This is complete nonsense! It’s like the creator just slapped all these personality things on without thinking about how they work together, or in this case, don’t!

And... “ She can knows someone secret only a sight. “

Oh god... is she a mind reader? PLEASE do not be a mind reader. I’m now actually scared to read through this more...

Super High School Level Secret

Super High School Level Hope (Her dream to protect the innocents)

Super High School Level Tackler

Super High School Level Fate

I should have known better than to wish for things. I have no goddamn words for this. This is in no way feasibly possible. I’m almost tempted to give up right here.

WHY is she the SHSL Hope?! Nothing we’ve seen here shows that she is a candidate! What the hell is Tackler? Secret? Fate?! These talents are an absolute disaster.

♢ Possible Execution ::

Gangbang Or Reveal Her Secret Until Death(Insane Diary)

I AM VERY TERRIFIED RIGHT NOW WHAT THE FUCK. DEATH BY GANGBANG?! SERIOUSLY?! WHY?!

Get me. The hell. Out of here. Insane Diary-whatever, how does that kill her? How does any of this work? I’m not talking about this further, I need to get out of this so I can get through the rest of this. This is the worst execution concept I have EVER seen.

FantineAquane was an orphan since she was a baby.In her surrounding,she become one of the insulted person in the homeless city.She been pedofilia with some citizens as her attraction makes all the men want to sex with her.All the fate has been changed as one city was ruined and rule by Super High School Level Despair.As she know the person who ruined all people lives,she attend the Hope Peak’s Private Academy as she wanna to prove that insulted person can help this city and ruined or realise all the Super High School Level Despair’s members.Without any letter that she needs to be that school student,she makes a bargain with Monokuma as she need to save the world with HOPE or die in DESPAIR.

WHAT THE HELLLLL

THIS IS JUST AIFURYEIULKEYHRLIUHE NOOOOO

I... I have no words. This so. BLATANTLY. Defiles canon that I feel like this person tried to rip Danganronpa off to make their own story.

And what the shit? I’m sorry, but this girl is not that attractive. Not nearly enough for “all the men” to want “to sex with her”. What the hell. This backstory is a mess. How can she attend Hope’s Peak without an invitation? HOW IS SHE STILL ALIVE IN THE POST-DESPAIR WORLD?! How is she not batshit insane?! Most people like her would be dead or have already fallen to despair by the time the first game takes place! And how-- How did Monokuma not let her in without wiping her memories first? What the hell is this?! Why is she trying to be the protagonist?! At least it potentially explains her horrendous choice of clothing...

I’m not even going to talk about this more. This is just a disaster and makes me want to get through this even further so I can scrub this OC from my brain.

♢ Likes :

Sex,electronic items,helping people,socials,solving clues,willing to friends someone,Yaoi

SELF INSERT SPOTTED, SELF INSERT SPOTTED!

No, seriously, whenever an OC has ‘yaoi’ in their likes, I default to Self Insert. And the creator legitimately put THIS in their profile. “Pro in Doujinshi,Hentai & Yaoi“ So... Fantine over here is a self insert on top of all of this.

Back to the actual review... yeah, if she was forced into prostitution, I have a feeling she wouldn’t actually like sex all that much, especially if she’d been forced into it from a young age. I don’t have much comment on the rest, as FINALLY something lines up with the rest of her.

♢ Dislikes ::

Being insulted,Having sex without taking permission to her,Being advice about her clothes,up of rage,her secret has been revealled

Welp, we’re back to impossible grammar. Semi-readable was good while it lasted, I suppose. The hell does “up of rage” mean?

Also, nonconsensual sex being in the dislikes makes sense, but... why not just bring normal sex over too? And what’s her “secret”? That she used to be a prostitute?

Aaand she doesn’t like criticism on her clothes. Lady, you’re wearing something that would get you kicked out of half the places I can name.

♢ Friends ::

Best friend:Nagito Komaeda,Aoi Asahina,Alter Ego,Leon Kuwata,Makoto Naegi,Sakura Oogami,

GODDAMMIT SHE’S A SEVENTEENTH STUDENT. AND HAS PROTAGONIST SYNDROME. Also, why is Nagito top of the list? He joined SHSL Despair. And she’s supposedly fighting despair. God damn, Fantine.

And I’m pretty sure NONE of these people would want to be around her, except maybe Makoto because he’s a nice person and would feel bad for her.

Friends:Souda Kazuichi,Gundam Tanaka,Hagakure Yasuhiro,Hifumi Yamada

Why is she friends with Hifumi? Oh, right, she’s a fujoshi. And I don’t think any of THESE people would want to be around her either. Ewwww.

Crush On:Chihiro Fujisaki,Alter Ego,

God damn. I think this chick would scare Chihiro more than she’d actually be a potential romantic partner. She’s like Chihiro’s total opposite, and no, opposites attract isn’t a thing here.

And is she using Alter Ego as a substitute after Chihiro dies? Not exactly unexpected...

Enemies:Monokuma,Junko Enoshima

Boriiiiiiiing. Generic good guy stuff. Because of course the bootleg SHSL Hope hates Despair. I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt-- Wait, how would she know Junko was behind this? Did she somehow manage to not get herself murdered or executed? Ugh.

♢ Quotes ::

“Don’t judge the book by it’s cover”

“You have to kidding me?”

“Although all of you loves to insulting me,it doesn’t mean I been insulted.But you all gimme a great support”

“Don’t kill all these innocence suvivors except me!”

“You’re got it wrong”

“Monokuma,I challenge you for a fight between HOPE & DESPAIR”

“Although they’re diffent in executions or death,their hope is to kill and put you all in the hell!”

“Although I’m atheast,it doesn’t means I disrespect all others religions,especially Islam”

That grammar is back! How do you mess up the iconic quote?! How has she challenged Monokuma like that without dying?! How can she handle others insulting her like that even though she clearly dislikes it? What the hell is going on here? Well... She’s got a poor judge of character, because she’s saying all the killers’ intentions was to damn everyone else. Nope. Not true.

And that last quote seems a little out of place. I’m gonna assume it connects to the creator in some way.

Final Verdict

Unsalvageable.

I’m (not) sorry to say this, but FantineAquane, the SHSL Secret, is UNSALVAGEABLE. There’s just too much wrong with her to be considered remotely salvageable, and it’s better off to just scrap her and start from the beginning. This OC was a disaster from beginning to end.

#neosaysno #that's not a name #that grammar #word vomit #what's dress code?#put some god dang clothing on #impossible talent #no no no no #impossible backstory #2muchangst #canon defilement #self insert #self contradictory #seventeenth student #protagonist syndrome #generic good guy #unsalvageable #danganronpa #mod neo

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croatian-nt · 5 years

Text

The Observer (Part One)

Summary: Daniel Subašić doesn’t really believe things get better with time. Ever since his friend moved out of the country his life went downhill and he blames all of it on Mario Mandžukić, who made his friend leave in the first place. So now, after 5 years, when he meets Mario’s best friend will he try to get back to him or maybe startto see things in a different light.

Pairings: past Luka Modrić/Mario Mandžukić, eventual Daniel Subašić/Domagoj Vida

Word Count: 2533

Warnings: Depression, thoughts of violence, character acting like an asshole in general

Notes: So after super long time I decided to write a prequel of “I’ll be waiting”(you can find it on my masterlist if you didn’t read it to understand this story better). Just be warned, the story in written in first person and Suba’s action in this part are definitely not good. He is probably going to be frustrating to read. Also as always big shoutout to my beta reader and editor @wordpuddle for making this story readable. I hope y’all will like it(and Suba) more as story progresses :)

It was snowing again. Of course it was, it was winter. I didn't know why I was staring out of the window instead of getting ready. There was an ice skating competition soon. I should do a report about their preparations. I glanced back at the window, watching the snow fall.

I should dress in warm clothes. Wear a winter jacket too, perhaps. But it seemed so unimportant. The cold seemed so far away and I preferred the jacket Luka sent in a package for my birthday. It was a jacket for spring, autumn maybe. Definitely not for winter and definitely not for snow.

It didn't matter in the end, did it? I would be a bit cold, so what? I could picture you frowning at that. You would be angry, you'd tell me not to be stupid. But you-no I wasn’t going to think about you. Luka would probably agree with you, thought. But he also wasn’t here. He moved away and all because of that-stop. That wasn’t a good thing to think about either.

Breathe.

In and out.

I shouldn't be this unreasonably angry after five years. Even Luka had let it go after all this time. Or at least I thought he had. Mario Mandžukić wasn't a topic we discussed. Just a bastard who had broken my best friend's heart.

I grabbed the jacket and my bag and I went outside into the horrible weather. The snow. I never liked it. Snow just meant another day without sun, another day without the warmth I was missing so much. I started the engine and typed a message while I was waiting for the heating to warm me up a bit. I really should have worn a winter jacket.

We just texted these days, Luka and I. He would take one look at my face over Skype and know I wasn't feeling good. He would ask me to go out, maybe see a therapist. He wouldn't see my face, though. So It didn't matter. I put the phone away and started the car.

By the time I arrived they had already started the practice. There were a few people who also came to watch it. That was usual- wait. Was that? No, it couldn't be.

But I'd recognize that tall figure anywhere. Almost the same haircut too. Mario Mandžukić had decided to come back then. After five years. After he had already made sure Luka wouldn't.

I felt the rage building in me. Slow but steady. It seemed unstoppable. I forgot about my job and I just started to push through the crowd to get to him.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I reached him. Yell? Punch him in the face? Or just grab his neck and watch his face turn blue? No.

I stopped dead in my tracks, struggling to breathe. I wasn't a violent person. But he deserved it. I couldn't just ignore seeing him there. Could I?

I was so focused on my inner dilemma I couldn't hear someone running towards me until it was too late. It was a strong impact, both I and the man that ran into me fell down, along with my stuff.

That's what I concentrated on first. The content of my bag. The notes, the research I made, all written down. I used to have it all in my head without having to write a word but it seemed the colder it got, the harder it was for me to remember. Not everything though. I could remember the way Luka would always patch Mario up so carefully, without a word of complaint even though I could see how worried he had been.

I finally looked up, meeting the stranger's gaze. His eyes were sharp and for a second I felt like he knew exactly what I was thinking. The feeling was so intense that I almost flinched back.

"I am sorry for running into you. Are you alright?" he asked and helped me gather my stuff.

It was normal, the polite thing to do. His gaze had lost all its edge, all its intensity. I must have imagined it.

"It's fine." My voice sounded odd, even to me. Like an old, rusty instrument that hadn't been used in ages.

He helps me get up too. I am not sure if he was just fast or if time had slowed down around me.

“You spend all your life inside your head, Suba.“ That's what you would have told me. I could picture your face saying it. All scrunched up and worried. I would almost compare it to the way Luka worried about Mario, maybe with your frown more obvious in his case.

"I apologize once again. I am being late for practice," the guy said, shifting from one foot to another.

I finally observed him more carefully. Long blond hair pulled into a ponytail, his clothes obviously comfortable and for practice. He did look familiar. I must have looked him up too when I had done my research but his name was on the tip of my tongue. Maybe I should have asked for an autograph or something and pretend I knew his name all along after he writes it.

But I just nodded my head instead and gave him something close to a smile.

"Don't be late on my account," I said.

Maybe I should really just go out more and try to talk to people. It's not like I didn't have other friends.

He smiled, smirked more accurately.

"It's alright. I can afford to be late every once in a while. I hope you...will enjoy the performances."

His voice was a tad bit different. Was he flirting with me? Or trying to hint I would definitely enjoy his performance? Or maybe something else? I was never quite good at reading social clues. Before I could decide though, he gave a little wave and slipped down to the dressing room.

Shit. The report. I should be writing something, take some notes at least. [I could research him later if I needed to. Not that it was important. He was not that interesting. We only exchanged five sentences at best. I should concentrate on the practice.

And I did. I even forgot what I was going to do before that ice skater crashed into me.

Until I heard his voice, of course. He was shouting something, but I couldn't make out the words. He was smiling, laughing at something.

Another memory. The three of us were sitting in your living room and he was laughing, his eyes fixed on you. Well if I am being honest, you were there too. It was four of us. He had always been so fixated on Luka, he had seemed every bit as much in love with Luka as Luka were with him. I had always assumed Luka hadn't noticed, that he was oblivious to how transparent he was. Maybe I was the one who was wrong. If he was so in love with Luka why did he tell him to leave? Why did he leave?

I let my feet carry me closer to him. I didn't know what to say. I could still feel the rage right below the surface.

I felt the exact moment he spotted me. His face froze up, his smile vanished. What did he see on my face? Anger? Apathy? Maybe even how conflicted I felt? He was my friend too, I suppose. Not my best friend, no, that was Luka. But still. We used to hang out and I tried to keep him out of trouble.

He reminded me of how he had looked back then. His face. He had looked nervous, anxious. Had he already known what he was going to do that night? It had been about a week before it happened. He must have. That's why he was so nervous, so on edge. He knew he was going to break Luka's heart. That he was going to leave without a proper goodbye.

"Hey, Suba. I didn't know you liked ice skating," he said, nervously dragging a hand through his hair.

"I didn't know you had enough nerve to come back like nothing ever happened. But here we are." My voice is surprisingly calm, only with a hint of the jab in it.

If there was anything I could do to hurt him, even a fraction of how he hurt Luka, I'd take it. Bastard.

His face twisted and he flinched back a bit. Yes, it hurt, did it not? Remembering the past. I wished I could forget. But I couldn't. And you deserved to remember, for it to hurt you as much as it hurt me. As much as it hurt him.

"I am not acting as if it never happened. But it's been five years, Daniel. What do you want me to do?" His face is almost apologetic. He looked like it hurt him to say how much time had passed.

Maybe he should have thought about it before he walked out without proper explanation.

"I would have you crawl back to whatever hole you have been in for the last five years and make you stay there. You are lucky Luka isn't in the country because if he was I wouldn't hesitate to punch you in the face."

There. I said it. Some of it. I was clenching my fists too like I was waiting for him to say one wrong word to punch him in the face. Maybe I was going to after all. He definitely deserved it.

Mario opened his mouth ready to say something before a voice from the rink interrupted us.

"What's going on here?" The voice was smooth and vaguely familiar. When I turned my head I recognized the ice skater that bumped into me a few minutes ago.

"It's okay Domo. I can handle it," Mario said, staring at him.

It was the kind of a look you give someone who is supposed to get your point, even if the person standing right next to you doesn't.

Domo. I looked at him again and suddenly I remembered his name. Domagoj Vida. Of course. The one with unusual costumes. Yes, I remembered now.

He looked at me and there is that intense, calculating look again. Was he trying to analyse me, see if I was a threat? Good luck with that.

"You are the reporter I crashed into, aren't you?" His eyes were softer now, less calculating. What was he up to?

I didn't feel like talking to him. He was not the one who deserved my anger. Vida smirked. He looks pleased? By what? The thought that I was going to beat up his friend? Not that I could imagine Mario being a good friend.

Well, that was a lie. I could. I just didn't want to. Because he was a good friend up until the end. But he doesn't deserve me remembering him like that. The end is what leaves a trace. The rest is like winter snow. It melts as season changes.

"How did you know I was a reporter?" It was a stupid question I could admit that. Still, I wanted to see where was he going with this.

"I helped you pick up your stuff remember? Most of your research was about me. I must say I am flattered."

I felt my cheeks burning with shame. Why was I so embarrassed? It was just research. I didn't even remember his name.

"You came here to watch the practice right? You know if you don't punch anyone and guards don't have to escort you outside, we could do an interview after I am done."

It definitely sounded like he was flirting now. Too suggestive to be taken any other way. Why was he flirting with me? Did he think that would stop me from beating Mario up? Hardly.

On the other hand, Mario did look deeply uncomfortable with the idea of me going with his friend somewhere he wouldn't be. Why? Did he think- Oh. He thought I would go out with Domagoj just to hurt him through him. Like he did with Luka. Well, that was not such a bad idea. Even if I didn't do it, making Mario uncomfortable and getting him to worry about it? I'd take it.

I fixed my eyes on Domagoj now and smiled. I almost forgot how social interactions worked, let alone flirting. Let's see if I could still do it.

"That does sound like a nicer alternative. Especially if I will see your practice," I said, leaning forward a bit.

It was a little awkward, the angle, the situation but he returned my smile and winked at me.

"I guess we'll see each other soon then. If you follow up on what you said that is."

And with a stern look and a nod to Mario, he turned and skated away.

I could feel Mario's stare burning holes into my head. Angry, wasn't he? Good. It felt good not to be the one who is always angry. [Hulk Smash. But seriously Suba, please just stop. This is awfully childish.]

"If you hurt him in any way I swear I'll-"

"You'll what? Beat me up? Please. If you were any good at that Luka wouldn't have to patch you up so often. So kindly shut up so I don't have to punch you in the face like I said I wouldn't." I hissed.

Mario flinched a bit at the mention/sound of Luka's name. I liked this plan more and more as the time passed. Mario looked on edge the whole time as if he'd rather have it that I really punched him.

Vida waved at me after the practice ended, signalling he was just going to the dressing room first. I waved back and Mario's jaw looked like it would snap in two if he pressed his teeth together it a bit harder.

I barely recognized him when he walked out. He let his long hair down and he was wearing a hat. And a jacket. Jesus. A bright yellow winter jacket. Winter jackets were ugly as it was, did it have to be yellow too?

He practically skipped over to where I was standing with a big grin on his face.

"I am glad Mario's face is in one piece. I am sure he appreciates it too." By the look on Mario's face I would disagree but he continued. "So, shall we? There is a nice café right across the street."

I took one last look at Mario's face. It was a mixture of worry, anger and something else. Regret? Probably not. Even now I couldn't imagine him regretting anything. Why would he? It wasn't his heart that got broken.

I shifted my eyes to Domagoj's grinning face and followed him to the exit.

Looking back, sometimes I wondered if I would have followed him if I knew how different that conversation would go from what I planned at that moment.

But, remembering his grinning face, the way his eyes were almost taunting me, even then, I know the truth. Yes, I would.

Taglist:

@lovren-la-vida-luka

@mvsicbookfrxndom

@kjldrv

@igecko1320

@lovrenfc

@sad-forest

@roseszymczak

@snakesandcherries

@domo-no-domo-yes

@asensihoe

@mrsmodric

@lukamodrix

@zadarskabagudina

@tinymodric

@wordpuddle

@childsmokers

@pachua

@flemishyugotalian

@living-lovren

@arduango

@winters-chiid

(I didn’t use this taglist in super long so if someone wants to be added/removed please send me a message or write in the comments)

#croatia nt #daniel subasic #domagoj vida #mario mandzukuic

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worldoflis · 5 years

Text

Close Binaries Chapter 11. Kidnap / Eggnog

A/N Here are 1800 words (!) in which I continue to have no clue how the American educational system works, nor what an average Performing Arts curriculum entails. That is why this is an AU, but hey, at least we get some Blaine-on-Kurt time again? Also, not one, but TWO canon references - I’m on a roll, people! Apart from the fact that I’m not even halfway through the advent and Christmas has passed, that is. Also also, I’m trying to keep these pieces readable as stand-alone one-shots, but there might be some references to previous chapters in here that are difficult to place. Just... roll with it?

1. athlete / snowman // 2. bury / cinnamon // 3. camera / candle // 4. deputy / paper // 5. exclude / ribbon // 6. feed / festival // 7. gradual / star // 8. house / gift // 9. incident / latke // 10. joke / light

It’s late when Kurt gets home that night. His class’ Performance midterm is tomorrow, and they’d booked the theater to run through the whole play one more time. And then another time. And another. He’s never been more grateful to his perfectionism for insisting his props were of the highest quality, even if they were meant for one performance only, because otherwise he’d have spent the whole night either fixing them or replacing them.

Redoing the one turkey had been more than enough, thank you.

But as he sets his bag down on the couch and makes for the kitchen to make himself some warm milk, he hears arguing voices coming from Rachel’s room.

“-even worse than the last one. We’re doing it again!”

“Rachel-”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through! How hard I’ve worked! I DESERVE to be at NYADA, and I won’t let ANYONE take my spot away from me! Especially not-”

“What the hell is going on here?”

Kurt’s not entirely sure what he expected to see when he burst into the room, but it was not this.

There’s a camera set up, pointing at a blank piece of wall that seems to be serving as a backdrop for whatever was happening. Rachel herself is not currently in front of the camera, but standing near her desk where her laptop is showing a recording of her singing. She’s looking terrible - her hair a mess, her cheeks flushed with anger - but it’s nothing compared to the poor guy sitting behind the laptop who, now that Kurt’s taking a better look-

“Blaine?”

He knows Rachel had a classmate coming over tonight to work on some assignment. It was a do-over of sorts that she needed to both pass the course, and get to retake the course - Kurt is a little fuzzy about the details, but she’d been ranting about it all Monday evening. He does know that the classmate in question is her self-appointed archenemy Cronut Critter: a fellow NYADA freshman who is so devoid on talent he must have bought his way into NYADA (unlikely), is a terrible diva who is impossible to work with (takes one to know one), and who has made it his mission in life to upstage Rachel whenever possible (understandable).

He also knows Blaine - at least as far as you can know someone who you’ve sold two cupcakes to, and with whom you’ve exchanged an e-mail or two about the recipe. But Blaine is polite, and funny, and sweet, and also terribly cute, with a round little butt and warm, brown eyes that were full of life and sparkle the few times Kurt has seen them, and it almost breaks his heart now to just see tiredness and exasperation.

Cronut Critter is Blaine. Blaine is Cronut Critter, and Kurt is grappling with the truth of that. However, he has bigger fish to fry.

“Rachel, what are you doing? It’s past midnight, don’t you have a midterm tomorrow?”

“Who cares about midterms? My future at NYADA is at stake! All because someone,” and she glares at Blaine, who seems to shrink just a little, “doesn’t know how to properly use video processing software.”

Blaine’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Nobody knows how to use video processing software after midnight,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you just continue tomorrow evening?”

“Tomo- that’s- I can’t- it’s- No!” Rachel stutters through her sentences, too angry -or too tired?- to finish any of them. “The deadline is Thursday, which means we have to send it in Tuesday at the latest!”

"If the deadline is Thursday, you can send it in Thursday,” Kurt counters dryly, continuing before she has a chance to protest. “Besides, it’s after midnight, so technically it is Wednesday already. Most importantly though, I have had the longest rehearsal of my life, and I need to sleep - and I’m not gonna listen to you sing progressively worse through the night.”

“We’ll use headphones,” Rachel says stubbornly, crossing her arms. “Blaine is not going anywhere until my video is perfect.”

“Rachel. You can’t kidnap someone over a college assignment.”

“I can if my future is at stake!” Rachel yells back. “It’s his fault that we have to redo it in the first place, so now it is his responsibility to fix it!”

None of what she’s saying is making any sense, but Kurt wasn’t lying when he said he desperately wanted to sleep. Which means he’s going to have to take drastic measures.

“Ok,” he says, straightening his spine and lifting his chin as he marches forward. “You-” and he points at Rachel, “are shutting down the camera, closing the laptop, and going to bed.”

“But I-”

“You are going. to bed. ,” Kurt repeats, glaring at Rachel until she averts her eyes. “There’s not going to be any more singing, video editing, or anything other than sleeping going on in this room tonight. Not even with headphones,” he adds sternly, before Rachel can even open her mouth to suggest it. “I will hear it, and if I do, I will not help you with the editing tomorrow evening, is that understood?”

It takes another few seconds of glaring before Rachel nods meekly, and Kurt turns his attention to Blaine, who until now has not said a word and seems to have been trying to be as invisible as possible.

“And you,” Kurt tells him, voice now softer, compassionate, “are coming with me. I think we both could use a drink.”

It is in absolute silence that Blaine clambers up and follows Kurt out of the room, and Kurt can almost feel the relief emanating from him as they leave Rachel to herself.

“I’m sorry about Rachel,” he says, rummaging around in the cupboards for an extra mug, adding more milk to the pot already on the stove. “She can be a handful sometimes. But after she choked on her first audition, for the longest time it looked like she wouldn’t get to have a second chance. So now she’s terrified of anything that could take it away again. I don’t know what happened with your assignment but-”

Kurt has turned around to find Blaine standing in the exact same spot he left him, right in front of Rachel’s door. He’s just staring at Kurt, wide-eyed and exhausted, arms hanging limply by his side.

“What?”

“H-how are you here?”

Kurt looks at him.

“I... live here?”

“With Rachel?”

“Yes, with Rachel.”

“Oh.”

He’s still not moving, and Kurt’s starting to think maybe the poor guy has gone into shock. That would be a first, even for Rachel, but then again, she had been acting completely crazy, and God only knows how long Blaine had been stuck in that room with her, recording and re-recording songs.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m...” Blaine hesitates, looking back over his shoulder and back at Kurt, like he still can’t believe he made it out. “I think you may have just saved my life?”

Kurt bursts out laughing, and as he walks forward to hand Blaine his mug, he sees the corners of Blaine’s mouth curl up in a smile as well.

“Come on, sit with me.”

He leads the way to the couch, snuggling into the corner as he watches Blaine follow after him, looking suspiciously at the mug in his hands.

“What is this?”

“Warm milk,” Kurt says, and after seeing Blaine’s confused look, he adds defensively: “It’s delicious!”

“I’m not protesting,” Blaine reassures him. “Just... not what I was expecting when you said we could use a drink.”

“So, what, you wanted eggnog or something?” Kurt teases, and Blaine laughs, a wonderful, heartfelt laugh, and something skips in Kurt’s stomach.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to go to bed?” Blaine asks, hesitating before he sits down in the couch, but Kurt shrugs.

“Not like I’m gonna fall immediately after that,” he says, nodding towards Rachel’s door. “So I can just as well. Unless... you want to go home?”

“Nonono! No, no, I mean, sure, yeah, I should be heading home soon, but as you said, I can, you know, use a little time to, well, unwind. And, you know, it’s cold outside so, warming up beforehand is probably a good idea. Yeah.”

It’s cute almost, how Blaine is stuttering his way through his sentences, obviously trying to be cool about sharing a cup of warm milk with a near-stranger in the middle of the night. It’s a stark contrast with the suave, polished Blaine that had e-mailed him before, and again completely different from the stories he’s heard from Rachel about this highly ambitious, overachieving classmate of hers. It reminds him of himself as a freshman just a year ago, trying desperately to find his spot at NYADA, balancing his ambition and his need to make friends.

It wasn’t easy.

“Are you sure she’s not gonna come out?” Blaine asks, glancing at Rachel’s door with a hint of fear on his face, and Kurt smiles, following Blaine’s line of sight.

“Pretty sure,” he says. “She can get crazy, but she usually knows when she crosses the line. She just needs someone to call her out on it. And she knows I keep my promises, if she keeps hers, so I know I can trust her to not be eavesdropping at her doOr if shE waNTS MY HELP EDITING TOMORROW!”

He’s raised his voice progressively over the last sentence, so he’s actually shouting at Rachel’s door by the end of it, and they both hear a stumble and a hard bang.

“I’m okay!” Rachel shouts from behind the door. “Just a nightmare! I’m okay!”

Kurt smiles, shaking his head over the predictability of Rachel’s antics, and turns his attention back to Blaine.

“So, tell me. Why exactly does Rachel think she’s gonna lose her spot at NYADA over this assignment?”

12. Language / Chimney

#klaine advent 2018 #klaine advent: kidnap #klaine advent: eggnog #close binaries #klaine #lis writes

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sierraraj · 3 years

Text

PROJECT 2: DISCOVERY

I chose Jenny Han’s famous “to all the boys I've loved before” as our redesign of a dust jacket book.

What is missing from the samples?

The covers are missing the very element of the term “love.” Like when you look at the book cover you just see the main character — Lara Jean but you don’t see the main love interest — Peter Kavinsky despite the title saying “P.S. I Still Love You” , it doesn’t demonstrate who her love is directed to, on the cover.

Keywords to recall storyline:

Trust

Innocence

True Love

Tough Choices

Heartbreak

Lies / Truth

Characters in the story:

Lara Jean

Half Korean and half American high schooler, Lara Jean is someone who you might consider as an invisible person, at her hight school. One thing to know and remember about her is that she likes writing love letters when she has a crush, but has always kept it a secret. Thats what the first part of the series was all about until her letters got sent out by her little sister and about 4 guys got the letter and her life (in her head) was over. P.S. I Still Love You is second part of series where she gets with her high school crush and her school’s heartthrob, Peter Kavinsky. Since Peter is the type who’s way out of her league she develops trust issues with him when he starts to become friendly with Lara’s ex-best friend who also happens to be his ex-girlfriend and from there their trust and love gets put to the test.

Peter Kavinsky

High school heat throb, jock, party, every girl’s dream boy basically. While being the school’s most handsome and popular guy Peter was sweet, considerate, and passionate. However at the beginning he used Lara Jean to get back his ex-girlfriend, Jen. While they were both okay with this, on a school trip they both end up falling for each other without knowing it. Well she did but he didn’t. Peter is someone who did make a lot of mistakes but always felt remorse and sorry about his actions which made the audience fall for him even more. He wasn’t a jerk but he could be at times, unintentionally.

Josh

Lara Jean’s sister’s boyfriend (in the first book) was one of Lara jean’s former loves or another of one of Lara Jean’s love letter recipients. Josh was one of the guys who were innocent, smart, loyal, kind-hearted and compassionate. However, being Margot’s (Lara Jean’s older sister) boyfriend it was hard for both Lara Jean and Josh. This was because when the letters got sent out, he got is and had no idea what to do but to confront Lara Jean. This caused a lot of tension for everyone. But Josh stayed the sweet guy he is and let her decided whether she wanted to be with Peter or him.

Lucas

Another one of Lara Jean’s lovers who later on came out as gay and told Lara Jean all about it. Lucas is someone who’s just adorable, sweet, intelligent (nerdy)and a loyal friend. It was when Lara Jean had encountered Lucas’s letter had been sent out to him and he came up and told her that she realized all of them were out!

Jhon Ambrose McClaren

He wasn’t much of an important character at first , however he became important in the second part of the series. Being Lara Jean’s second most important and hardcore crush John was a very talented, kind hearted, generous, sweet, loyal, and simplistic individual. Lara Jean felt more relatable with him as with Peter she was exposed to more extroverted activities like partying and socializing. However, with John, while volunteering at an old age home, she became closer to him as they had a lot more intimate moments with one another as he liked the same things as her like reading, enjoying the simple things, planning, organizing and all those things. He always handled himself maturely with utmost grace and patience

My main focus is the second book, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before P.S. I Still Love You.

Moments before, during or after climax :

Before the climax

Lara Jean Covey’s high school sets up a volunteer program; while her now boyfriend, Peter Kavinsky, goes to volunteer with his friends she decides to go to Belleview Retirement Home instead. And that’s when she meets the books second love interest John Ambrose McClaren

During the climax

She starts reminiscing with John all the good times they had together as kids. She starts getting close with him while Peter is hanging around with Jen, his ex. As she starts having family issues similar to his and needs a shoulder to cry on. While Peter deals with that Lara Jean has no clue and starts to doubt him and their relationship. She gets jealous and starts to think he’s lying to her

Lara Jean gets to know John Ambrose had feelings for her since the beginning but never had it in him to tell her. He confesses his love to her but even though she feels the same she doesn’t believe that he’s the one for her

After the climax

Towards the end where John confesses his love to Lara Jean but she realizes he isn’t the one for her, they’re at a dance that’s being held at the retirement home. She leaves him out snow and goes to drive to Peter’s place but she finds herself at the entrance of Bellview where Peter is waiting for her and then walks up to her and confesses that she is the love of his life and tells her that he remembers that she hates driving in snow. The get back with each other and now know that no matter the struggle they will get through it, together.

The vernacular at the time of the story: what was popular in the culture at the time (signs, typography, trends..)

The book demonstrates that this was taken in a very modern time, 21 century to be exact. It’s a modern day, cliche, high school romcom, kinda love story.

At the time being cool, athletic, pretty, rich and all that was the popular thing. Kids who were from middle class families, not “pretty enough” and popular were picked on and bullied by what we call nowadays “the plastics” or the mean girls.

The typography used for the the film and the book’s poster is Have Heart. It is a brush scrip with two hand-made fonts and some washes.

Unrelated Book Covers

the above images are my inspirations for the dust jacket for my book! The first group of images attracted me as they’re straightforward, make good use of beautiful, natural typography that are structured and have a sense of hierarchy promoting legibility and readability. The use of silhouettes and feel of hand drawn sketches is what mainly attracted me to them. These and and the last to images of book covers really inspired me.

Since my book is basically a teenage romance novel I would like to include 3 of the main characters, Lara Jean, John Ambrose McClaren and Peter Kavinsky, on my dust jacket in any way possible. On Jenny Han’s cover its mostly Lara Jean whose portrayed on all 3 covers of the series. I would like to change it up and include all of them in ways like whether its a creative artsy sketch or in the forms of silhouette with the use of a red and white colour scheme.

THESE ARE MY SKETCHES

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myhighladyfaeofthenightcourt · 7 years

Text

My Mate, My Wife and My High Lady Pt.2

Sorry for being so late guys and im also sorry for spelling and shit but i had to do this all on my phone bc i dont have Wi-Fi for my laptop. Hope its still readable tho xox ...... Feyre let herself drift as the wind caught the membrane in her wings. She had been flying around in circles in the middle of nowhere for a while now. She knew she was still in the Night Court but it wasnt a part she recognised or knew but she didnt have time to think about that right now. The cogs in her brain just kept spinning and soon they were going to go too fast for her to keep up. She knew she was overthinking yet she couldnt stop. She just kept thinking about the stunning woman who had jusy appeared out of nowhere. The woman Rhys had never told her about. Why had Rhys never mentioned her? Was there something he didnt want her to know? How long were they together? Why did they break up? Would Rhys leave Feyre to go back to her?? Ok no that last one was stupid and she knew it. Rhysand was her mate and she was his. They were married for mothers sake. With all this shit running rapid in her head Feyre wasnt paying attention to where she was going and didnt notice massive ass tree before it was right in front of her. "Shit" she swerved sharply to the right but a branch still caught her wing and Feyre lost her balance and began crashing through the trees before hitting the ground like a meteor. A scream tearing from her lips. She heard the snap of her ankle before she felt it and then let out a string of curses that would have made the mothers couldren boil. She was spread out in the dirt like a fallen angel and tried to examine her clipped wing but shed never injured them before and the pain was unreal. How Cass had survived having his wings shredded when a small cut was causing her agonising pain she had no clue. All thoughts of Cece were now gone and all Feyre could think of was finding out where she was. She still hadent mastered winowing large distances and since she had no idea how far away from home sje was she didnt want to risk it. She tried pulling herself up but her ankle couldnt take her weight and her wing was too sore to tuck in but she couldnt drag it on the ground either. Who would have thought the great Feyre Cursebreaker, the girl who defeated Amarantha and saved the world from an asshat of a king would be so easily taken down from a measly fall... .......... Feyre had been leaning herself against a tree in the forest for about an hour, waiting for herself to heal enough to travel properly when she heard it. The familiar beat of wings. She looked up to see Rhys racing towards her, a look of pure panic on his face as he landed with a boom and raced to kneel in front of her. "What happened!? Where are you hurt?!" His voice was rushed as he looked his mate over, taking in her hurt wing and injured ankle. Placing his hands carefully on her wing to inspect the damage and to speed up the healing. "Im fine" Feyre croaked but she was shaking from the cold. She had made a small fire but didnt want to risk attracting any unwanted attention "how did you find me". "You let your guard slip" he said quietly, his starry eyes meeting hers "I felt your surge of panic and the pain but then I was shut out again, I knew something had happened". "What about Cece?" Feyre looked away as if she didnt want to know the answer. "What about her?" Rhys looked puzzled. "Well you cant have just left her alone" "No. I kicked her out" Feyre looked back up at her mate in astonishment "what? Why? I thought..." "That something would happen between us" Feyre stared at her fidgeting hands "shes beautiful" she whispered. Rhys plaved his hands on either side of her face amd ran the pad of his thumb along her cheek. "You're beautiful. And I love you. Yes shes an ex but she doesnt mean anything to me anymore. I would never ever do something like that" A tear escaped and fell down Feyres cheek "it was just wjen she syarted talking about you two. What you did together... i know it was long before me but..." "You never have to explain yourself to me, i understand. And I kicked her out because no one disrespects my mate, my wife and my highlady" Feyre smiled softly and gently pressed her lips to his "lets get you home, you crazy lady" he laughed and scooped her up in his arms.

#feysand #feyrhys #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #sarah j maas #acomaf #acotar

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clove-teasdale · 6 years

Text

truths & lies

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge. OKAY Y’ALL, this takes place the same day as THIS FIC from @brooks-schreave but at night. if u want context re-read that. not entirely necessary if u remember what happened but leaving it there anyway. I hope this wasn’t too bad and I made it justice. thanks grace for the rp <3 ft. my guards and brooks. also, I needed a name at one point and was uncreative, sorry. over 3k words. forgive typos and stuff, enjoy! (and since it’s today, happy holidays!!)

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

I was turning around the last corner to my room when I heard the prince’s voice.

“Officers! A nice evening we're having…”

A small smile formed on my face as I watched Brooks talking with fake enthusiasm aimed at Barnes and Rogers. Seeing them patrolling around the hall was something I was used to by that point and they were quite the amusing pair. According to the maids, Rogers was in his first year of duty, a smart kid extremely loyal to the monarchy. Barnes, in contrast, had been serving for over a decade, already with a family of his own. His loyalty to the job.

Rogers immediately bowed to Brooks, not bothering to question why he’d start such a trivial conversation with them. “Absolutely, Highness.”

Barnes, however, only bowed politely. Sharp as ever as he asked if there was something they could help him with. “Oh, no, no…” Brooks said, kicking the ground, clearly uncomfortable. “You must be wondering why I'm here.”

Rogers shook his head, almost offended at the thought of being considered so disrespectful. “Oh, but it's your palace.”

“It's the floor of the Selected,” Barnes interjected, suspicion and disapproval noticeable before he quickly added, “But it is not our place to wonder, Highness.”

Subtle, Barnes. I walked the rest of the way to my room, getting closer to them quietly. This was sure to be an entertaining conversation, our conspiring could wait.

“Glad you asked!” Brooks clapped his hands together, smiling awkwardly. “I am just checking up on things, being a good guy. I am in no way here to see anyone specific.”

Barnes raised his brows and I shook my head. I had guessed he was a bad liar before, but he was worse than I’d expected.

“You shouldn't worry about that, Highness,” Rogers began, oblivious to Barnes' suspicion, “we're doing our job well, I assure you. You can go on about your day and let us worry about the guarding.”

“For once my partner is right,” Barnes eyed the prince warily, “you should not concern yourself which such trivial things, but it's very... kind of you.”

“I want to be a guard!" Brooks blurted out, practically irradiating panic as he nodded to himself. "Th-that's why I'm here. I'm practicing.”

I rose both eyebrows, almost facepalming before the need to laugh hit me. I contained it though. “You wanna be a what now?”

Barnes and Rogers both looked at him with their own shocked expressions. “That’s unexpected, Highness.”

“That’s an understatement,” Barnes mumbled.

“Yeah, I've just always been fascinated with the... brute work.”

Brooks’ act was crashing and I snorted at the sight. “I hardly think it’s polite of you to call it brute... Highness.”

He turned to fully face me. “Clove, what a coincidence!”

One of my eyebrows went up as I watched him walk over, trying to hide my amusement as I grinned, “Is it?” His eyes narrowed.

“You're right, it isn't,” shaking his head solemnly, he faced the guards, “we're lovers meeting for our nightly tryst.”

My eyes widened before I glared at him, taking a step closer as a silent threat. You little... Fixing a smile on my face, as if that were the type of joking I approved of him, I let out a fake laugh. I punched his arm in faux playfulness though. “How funny, Brooks.”

He grabbed his arm, doing his best to pull up a smile through the pain. “I am a jokester.”

I spared him one last glare, then smiled politely at Barnes and Rogers. “He probably just needs help with that...Spanish homework of his.”

Officer Rogers tilted his head. “Don't you have tutors, Highness?”

“The prince is too shy to ask for help, aren't you Brooks?” I countered.

We didn’t need an awkward pause of Brooks debating what to say, and besides, it was my turn to embarrass him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it. Brooks had no other option than to whisper it was true so the dreadful exchange could be over.

“Oh, deeply sorry, Highness. We didn't know,” Rogers apologized quickly. Barnes narrowed his eyes, seeming not quite sure if he should believe it but bowed anyway. “We'll leave you to it.” He spun on his heel to leave and Roger followed quickly with, “At your service, if you ever need it.”

As soon as they were out of sight, Brooks sighed and I reached for his arm to shove him in the room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it for a moment, that weird need to laugh taking over again. This time I let myself do so.

“Stop laughing.” Brooks crossed his arms. “That wasn't funny.”

I ignored him, of course. “You want to be a guard?” I made a face of fake disbelief, bringing a hand to my chest. “How incredibly humble of you.”

“You're amused, aren't you?”

I was. Very much so. Faking a more serious tone I continued, “Brute force is so very important on the life of a guard. I'm glad you are aware of it.” My chuckling became softer as my amusement subsided. It was a little strange to tease him just for the sake of it instead of the usual sting I used when he was being a jerk, but I wasn't about to complain about witnessing such a priceless scene.

“I'm glad you enjoyed that.”

Meeting his gaze, I managed to stop laughing, realizing this was Brooks. I composed myself and cleared my throat. “Yeah, well... anyway....” I walked to the closet, searching for my box hidden behind some shoes. Taking it to the room, I set the box on the bed and opened it to reveal a couple of old magazines, my random sheets with notes, the journal he'd given me from the library, and my own notebook.

Picking up the journal, I flipped through the first pages. “It's been proving a little hard to read, in all honesty, but I've figured out the first chapters in my spare time the last two days.” I handed him the journal opened on the first margin annotation and then reached for my notebook in the box. “This is what I've got so far. I haven't gotten to the details of how they do it yet,” that was in further chapters, “but I'm pretty sure they don't leave the Selection to chance anymore.”

I handed him my notebook opened on my progress. It wasn't much, but there were readable transcriptions of the first Spanish annotations from the margins of the journal, then translations underneath and my own notes for context.

To avoid wasting time reading all of them, he asked, “What does it say?”

“Basically, it seems they consider the royal bloodline to be of utmost importance and therefore thought of it wise to further consider who is worthy enough to produce an heir.” I rolled my eyes as I explained, understanding the concern to some level, but knowing caste alone did not define worthiness. It was about finding the right person and choosing wisely. Heart and mind. “Of course, the whole charade of the Selection is that it's equal and impartial. Letting a daughter of Illéa join the highest of ranks and bring a voice to the people. That means they can't really be openly selective of who is allowed to join and who isn't.” The journal was proof that that didn’t stop them, however.

“But does the heir still have a choice?”

I pressed my lips together, knowing he meant Nate. “I doubt he's aware... Your father on the other hand…”

He closed his eyes. I understood that disappointment well. “That's what I thought. Do you think your dad knows?”

Clenching my jaw, I looked away. “I'm afraid to say it's very likely most of the advisers know.”

Even without reading more of the journal, I knew Dad had to be involved. It would be foolish to deny it. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the strings of logic weaving in my head, creating a fuller picture. Wilson called it my double-edged sword. You can't always hold on to hope when the reality is hitting you right in the face. Just like I had been unable to pretend I didn't notice Miss Grundy's strange mannerisms whenever parent-teacher conferences came along.

A hand on my back broke my thoughts. “Hey, we don't know if this is still going on, and if it is, on the bright side, I guess you're considered worthy.”

He was trying to be nice, but a dry laugh left my mouth either way as I stepped away from his hand. “How fortunate to be defined by a number.” I knew he was trying to be nice. To joke, be light-hearted. Sadly for him, I wasn’t the best when it came to people comforting me.

Actually, I probably wasn’t the best at comforting others either. Not in the most conventional of ways at least. I chewed the inside of my cheek, muttering, “I didn't think he was that type of person.” Then shaking my head, I focused back on the box. There was no point in sulking. I just had to push it aside.

With the help of the palace library, I’d found a book on the analysis of handwriting. There were a couple of general markers that people used to figure out psychological aspects of who’d been holding the pen, but some were also used to predict the probable gender of the writer. I had printed out pictures I’d taken from the book, showing stroke samples and statistics.

Standing next to Brooks so he could compare the writing in the journal, I steered our conversation back to the research. “I have no clue who wrote this since it was years ago, but considering the way of the strokes it was very likely a man.”

“I take offense to that remark.”

“Great. That's extra points for it being an accident.”

He smiled at my quick retort. “How many points were earned for the slap?”

I looked at him surprised, holding back a grin by pressing my lips together and pushing him away, taking the journal in the process. “That was your own fault.”

“Maybe so, but violence is never the answer.”

“Fair point.” I wasn’t about to argue against it, so instead, I said the truth with a shrug. “I was in a bad mood.”

“I was trying to provoke you.”

Faking a gasp, I gave him a perplexed look. “Were you really?!” Then letting my expression fall flat, “What a plot twist.”

He laughed, which wasn't too bad a sound, bumping shoulders with me as he kept a smile on. “It's how I show I care.”

I scoffed. “That's a stupid way of showing it.”

“Next time, I'll just shower you with compliments. Promise.”

“Sure. Let's see if you don't die from such a hardship.”

His eyes brightened for some reason as he leaned towards me, acting dramatically. “Oh, my dearest Clove, how your smile shines like the sun.” I raised an eyebrow and he leaned closer, looking at the ceiling and clutching his chest. “Your voice is like a song and I'm addicted to the melody.”

I crossed my arms and countered, “Max said my name alone was like music.”

He looked back down at me with a small smile. “And how right he was.”

I did my best not to seem too amused as I narrowed my eyes. This is probably how he acts around Eloise. I feigned suspicion, lifting my chin. “So this is how you get all the other girls to like you, huh?”

“Oh yeah, they can't contain themselves.”

“Are you admitting you've been flirting with the Selected?”

“Absolutely. I just can't help it.”

I chuckled at his persistence to keep this going. Though I wasn’t sure what it even was. Joking? Acting like decent human beings around each other for once? “What’s gotten into you?”

He stopped, leaning back. “You told me to be nice.”

“Oh, sorry,” I joked, aiming for the harmless teasing from earlier, “I thought that word wasn’t in your vocabulary. It's unexpected I must admit.”

He tilted his head. “All you had to do was ask.”

I gave him a flat look. “I’ve implied it before and so far, before today, you’ve failed.”

“You looked like you needed cheering up.” I could only blink at him after that, taken aback by his admission. I hadn’t thought he would actually notice, let alone help.

I’d had lunch with my dad the previous day, unable to cancel even if the last thing I wanted to do was face him after the journal. He’d lied to my face and there was nothing I could say about it. I had to act like everything was okay. Like I didn't know what he was involved in.

Pushing down the wave of anger at the memory of sitting with him and laughing at his jokes, I closed my eyes and let silence fill the room. Brooks and I would figure out the truth. Somehow, eventually, we would have the needed proof.

I took a deep breath and glanced back at him, allowing myself to smile, yet it turned into a full-on grin as I shook my head. The dork and I working together. Who would’ve thought? I tilted my head in his direction, watching him for a moment. “Thanks, then.”

He smiled back, some sort of pride lighting up his features, “Anytime.”

Mere seconds later, however, he looked away, hands fidgeting. I scratched the back of my neck, awkwardness rubbing off on me too. Change of subject it is. “So, what are we planning to do with this information once we've got more figured out?” I thought about it for a second. “I want others to know.”

“Wow, Teasdale. Looks like we agree. Let's hope the world doesn't end.”

“Dramatic much?” I asked, but he claimed to be a dramatic person on a regular basis. I said I used 'annoying' as his usual adjective and he brought some sarcasm into the mix by calling me ‘absolutely delightful’. “I see the compliments keep coming. Trying to keep me in a good mood?”

That finally got him flustered. “Y'know this is harder than it looks. I don't know how to act around you. I jus-I'm a little lost here.”

“And you think I know?" The need to defend me took over. Little kids arguing. "Before the library, the last thing you let me know was how no one wanted me around. Not precisely the most welcoming of statements.” He froze, stuttering and I sighed. “Just save it, Brooks. Point is I'm entitled to my skepticism, and as you said before, we weren't precisely friends in the past. You had no reasons to argue with me or accuse me of anything and yet you still did so.” Maybe I was a little angry about it. “I don't even know why.”

He looked down with frustration, but composed himself quickly, meeting my gaze again. “I know I haven't been the most polite, or chivalrous, o-or decent man to you.” He closed his eyes. “You have to understand, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do it, I don't know why it's aimed towards you. I'm sorry.”

I stared at him as he kept his eyes shut, seeming far too embarrassed to look at me. Part of me couldn't believe he’d actually apologized. I wasn't sure if it was the most eloquent of apologies, but there was truth behind his words.

When he kept his eyes closed, I took a moment to think about how to reply. I wasn’t sure if this meant we could try to be friends now--an idea he’d completely loathed years back--but maybe, for the sake of our teamwork, we would have to avoid killing each other before getting answers.

Reaching for a pillow, I threw it at him. “That's my acceptance of your apology. You can open your eyes now.”

He opened them cautiously. “You've gotten violent.”

“It was that or…” I walked over and paused, reconsidering one last time before offering a hand for him to shake. “Clove Teasdale.” It was the same greeting I’d made the first time we’d met. When we were both just two freckled three-year-olds.

Back then he’d refused to accept it. Today he didn’t. “Brooks Schreave.”

I kept eye contact as he held to my hand, waiting for him to shake it and pointing out, “The pillow was more fun.”

He squeezed slightly. “Can't say I enjoyed it as much as an alternative response.”

“Like hitting you with two pillows?” I suggested. He gave me a flat look that made me grin. “I figured.”

His hand didn't move to shake, but he didn’t let go either so I glanced down at our joined hands. Uh... when I met his gaze again he was still looking directly at me, his expression awkward as I was getting used to at that point.

Not knowing what to do, he started swinging our hands. “I don't know how to stop. I feel like it'll make things awkward.”

A genuine laugh bubbled up. I hoped he didn’t feel like I was making fun of him, this was just a side of him I’d never seen before. “More awkward than to keep holding hands? Should I help you out?”

He nodded. “We'll both let go on the count of three.”

“One,” I began, “two,” he continued.

“Three,” I let go. He didn’t.

Well.

He snatched his hand back. “Whoops, made that worse.” I rolled my eyes and hit him with the pillow again after picking it up. He stumbled back. “That's not a soft pillow!” Then, attempting to take the cushion away, he accidentally pulled me with it.

Letting go of the pillow quickly, Brooks caught me before I could stumble forward, but in the process, Mr. clumsy decided to slip on the fallen pillow. My eyes widened as I placed hands out in front of me, hoping not to fall flat on my face. He swiftly shifted our positions to cushion my fall, however, groaning as I fell on his chest instead of the floor. “Shoot.”

Idiot. I moved off him, resting my back on the floor and admiring the ceiling. “You’re horrible.”

He ignored that and joked by saying I had a nice ceiling. I said it wasn’t mine, but he argued it was "for the time being."

“Wonder how long that’ll be.” After the discovery of the journal I hoped I'd be able to stay long enough to figure that out.

“You'll probably be here for a while, logs.”

I narrowed my eyes at his tone. “You’ve never called me that.”

“That's because it's stupid.”

I scoffed, lifting my upper body with the help of my elbows. “We were like 5.” I couldn’t tell if there was anger or annoyance in his gaze at the ceiling, but the word jealousy, also crossed my mind as I remembered my conversation with Quinn. I still couldn’t believe Brooks could have had a crush on me once, but if he had…

“You were clearly in love with him then," he stated, and I knew he meant Nate as he leaned up on his elbows too, locking eyes with me, "but tell me, are you now?”

I decided to keep the discussion civil as we’d failed to do in the past regarding this topic. “I’ve never been in love.” With Nate or otherwise.

“Me neither.”

“Then why do you assume I was?”

“Childhood infatuation is a common thing,” he explained, speaking a little lower.

“Infatuation is stupid.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “it is.” He was leaning closer, I could tell. He’d been moving in since the moment he’d sat up.

I frowned at the shift in the room, his face only an inch away. He was too close. What are you-... I opened my mouth but was cut off by a knock at the door.

“LADY CLOVE, DID YOU EAT DINNER?” I almost laughed at the sound of Barnes. Brooks stopped getting closer and moved away, looking down with a sigh as he lowered himself back to the floor.

Yelling back at Barnes on the other side of the door, I said, “I did!” And gave my current companion a suspicious glance.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR VISITOR?” Barnes called again. “MAYBE HE SHOULD LEAVE TO GET SOME FOOD.”

I silently questioned Brooks about what he’d thought he was doing as I replied, “Yes, maybe.” His blue eyes met mine without an answer.

“I heard dinner was quite delicious, Highness. You should check it out.”

“I'm sure it was,” the prince called back. To me, he added, “I think I should go.” Standing up, he gave me a slight nod before walking to the door, opening it and offering Barnes a smile as the guard moved aside to let him pass, bowing. I watched as his back disappeared with a raised eyebrow, unsure if I should let myself assume anything.

Then my expression was for Barnes as he stood by the door. “What was that all about?”

“General concern for your eating habits, Lady Clove. You’ve already skipped breakfast today I was told.”

Yeah, right. I’d gotten food with Eloise later anyway. “Officer Barnes?”

He pressed his lips together, but when I didn’t let him go he simple admitted, “I know what it’s like to be his age.”

I rolled my eyes. Jacinda had mentioned the officer had a soft spot for protecting people easily whether he liked to admit it or not. A lot of the younger staff members looked up to him because he looked out for them.

"It's not like that," I mumbled, but even as I said it, I stared back into the room. At the fallen pillow I'd hit Brooks with.

It couldn’t be.

#brooks tag #NEXT FIC IS THE SLEEPOVER #THEN CHRISTMAS STUFF #LOTS OF THAT LOL #author #im excited #barnes and rogers tag #//fics #//not a challenge

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tonystarktogo · 7 years

Text

How Stony Turns Into Stuckony--because sometimes three idiots can not be trusted to figure shit out for themselves. Or something like that.

“The fuck are you doing, Stark?” Bucky hisses behind clenched teeth.

Tony, manipulative little bastard that he is, just blinks up at him, looking so fucking innocent Bucky knows for sure it can’t be anything but a scam and still can’t help but feel guilty about snapping at him.

You’re going soft, Barnes, he thinks for the fifth time in the last hour. Let’s hope it doesn’t get you killed today.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Tony asks, all wide brown eyes and pouty lips as he presses his body closer. Bucky is this close to shooting the pitiful moral left-overs he’s got to hell and lean that last inch in to fucking devour him.

Honest as Bucky usually is with himself he has to admit he’s not sure he’ll make it through this night without doing something he won’t regret as much as he probably should in the morning. Like fucking his best friend’s very hot boyfriend. It probably wouldn’t end their friendship, but Steve would definitely want revenge, and the whole trying to kill each other without actually killing each other, just to work together at the last possible second to turn a job around is really starting to get old.

“No, seriously, what are you doing?” Bucky asks again when Tony keeps wiggling restlessly and presses himself even closer, like he wants to crawl into Bucky’s skin or something. And seriously, they’re stuck in an air vent, there wasn’t exactly a lot of room to begin with.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you miss the part where I told you I’m freezing my ass off because this is an air vent with moving air in it and some people don’t have the body temperature of a god damn furnace?” Tony snipes, indicating that he has been complaining about the temperature--he’s right, it is a little chilly, especially with the sweat of being chased through the building twice still clinging to them, and that will never be sexy--for a while now.

Maybe he needs to try this listening thing that Natasha keeps commenting on.

“Whatever,” he grumbles distractedly. Puts an arm around Tony’s shoulders and another below his head, because dislodging the human limpet is impossible and his muscles are starting to ache. Besides it’s not like it’s a hardship to cuddle with cute, snarky Tony who’s got far too much talent breezing through security systems like they’re nothing, looking damn good while he does it.

There’s a moment of silence as they both get comfortable, nothing but the sound of their breathing, even but a little too heavy for Bucky’s paranoia, before.

“You’ve got a reason for keeping both your hands on my ass too?” Bucky raises a questioning eyebrow, hopes Tony can see it in the dim light. He could have just ignored it or pushed him off of course, but come on.

Tony, unapologetic as always, simply tightens his grip. “It’s a very nice ass.”

Bucky, clinging to all the maturity and self-control he’s got, keeps his hands where they are instead of getting back at Tony with some very inappropriate fondling--because one, that’s fucking childish and can only lead to bad decisions, and two, you think sex in a car is overrated and uncomfortable? Try having it in an air vent. Or, you know, don’t try it. Seriously, man. Don’t.

“And what does your boyfriend think about you appreciating other people’s butt like this?” Bucky shoots back. It’s supposed to remind the both of them of the fact that all mutual attraction aside, one of them is not on the market, but instead it comes out sounding far more teasing than Bucky intended. Which does absolutely nothing to break the mood.

Steve’s thoughtful hum in his ear on the other hand does the job just fine. Until he follows it up with a, “His boyfriend agrees, you do have a fantastic ass,” that is.

Bucky inwardly groans. Right. The earbud. He still isn’t used to the earbud. He still isn’t used to working in a team. But also, what?

“You really do,” Tony nods, serious like he usually is when he stares at laser beams or locks, trying to figure out the easiest way to cheat his way through the system. “And it feels even better than it looks!” he adds happily.

Bucky feels something between flattery, a faint sense of embarrassment, and exasperation. Why did he think working with a team would keep his admittedly very attractive ass out of trouble again?

Speaking of the team.

“Not to cut through the audio porn or anything,” Clint cuts through Tony’s continued analysis of Bucky’s posterior, “But I’m trying to con a paranoid ex-CIA bodyguard into not killing my sorry ass, so could you please shut the fuck up?”

"Yes, well, if you’d done your job right we wouldn’t be stuck in this fucking vent in the first place!” Bucky growls, because how the hell can you miss the second guard route when you’re casing this place?

“Oh sure, blame me why don’t you--”

“It’s your fault, Clint!”

“Show time,” Natasha mutters, all business “Tony, Bucky, stay put until Clint gives you the all clear, keep yourselves busy. Steve, I need those codes yesterday,” which ends the erupting argument immediately.

They can be professional, occasionally.

Ah, whom is he kidding?

“How are we supposed to keep ourselves busy?” Tony asks incredulously. “We’re in an air vent.”

“Make out for all I care, just be quiet!” Natasha snarls back. Bucky still has that instinctive twitch towards his gun when she starts talking in that voice. It’s annoying but also understandable.

What’s less understandable is that Tony apparently decides to take Natasha’s advice, because suddenly there are a pair of lips on Bucky’s that have no business being where they are, nor are they supposed to feel so good, or move so perfectly or--

“Are they doing what they think I’m doing?” Clint asks with audible disbelief.

“It’s cute how you have to ask that,” Steve responds with an equally audible grin.

Steve. Shit.

Bucky jerks back.

“What the fuck, Stark?”

“Tony,” Steve sighs on the comms, the sort of affectionate exasperation that makes Bucky feel honest to god ashamed. Like he’s going to hell for this, rather than all the other, bloodier shit he’s done.

“What?” Tony says defensively. “He kissed me back!”

Which is not the part Bucky thinks Tony needs to be defensive about--but then what does he know about relationships?

“Tony, we’ve talked about this,” Steve laughs. He sounds so amused Bucky wants to punch him in the face. “You need to use your words.”

Really, Steve is worryingly unconcerned by his boyfriend’s actions. Bucky narrows his eyes. There are plenty of stunts he’s pulled Steve must still want to get him back for, and this is beginning to look suspiciously like some twisted sort of payback. He hasn’t figured out Tony’s angle yet, but he’s undoubtedly got one as well.

“Okay, okay,” Tony breathes. He’s tensing up now, though, and Bucky isn’t surprised when a minute passes without either of them saying anything. Eventually though, his patience is rewarded.

“So the thing is,” Tony starts, then suddenly seems unable to stop, the words pouring out of him faster and faster, until the mesh into each other, become almost impossible to understand, “I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, but that’s okay, I talked it over with Steve and looked it up on the internet and there’s this thing some people are where they’re kind of a little in love with more than one person at the same time and Steve and I have been talking about what’s fine and what isn’t and I really should’ve started by asking what’s fine for you but I got distracted and I wanted to kiss you for so long and I’m not gonna apologise for that but I’m sorry I did it instead of checking with you first. But I like you and I want to do it again if you don’t mind and you and Steve can figure out whatever you want whenever but I’d really like to date you both.”

Bucky...blinks. Tries to take in the mess of an explanation that’s just been thrown at him--kind of feels like it’s burying him, with the way his thoughts are swimming, if he’s entirely honest.

“Holy shit,” Clint whispers in genuine terror. “I can’t believe Tony is the mature, let’s talk about feelings guy in this crew.”

“I can’t believe I still don’t have those codes,” Natasha snaps. “Steve!”

Bucky ignores them both.

“You want to date me?” he repeats slowly, and no, it doesn’t sound any less far-fetched the second time.

“And have very hot threesome sex,” Tony agrees with a nod.

“Do you guys have to do this now?” Clint whines. “There are reality TV shows for this shit, you know.”

“Shut up, Barton!” Bucky growls. Then, a little softer--but only a little--to Tony, “Why are we doing this now?”

Tony shrugs, a fluid motion that Bucky feels with his entire upper body. The reminder of just how close they’re pressed together does little to help his focus.

“There just never seems to be a good time to bring up crazy, wild three-ways in polite conversation, you know?” he asks, in that way of his that sounds completely serious and utterly ridiculous at the same time.

“So you thought cozying me up in an air vent with our entire team listening in on us would be the right time?” Bucky can’t not roll his eyes because Tony.

“Well,” Tony tilts his head in consideration, “it didn’t seem to be the worst time.”

The saddest part is that he’s right.

[An hour later after they narrowly escape yet another security team--those fuckers are everywhere, damn it--Bucky slams Tony’s back against the nearest wall and kisses him breathless.

“Not again!” Clint groans in exasperation.

He’s still not convinced of Steve’s motivation but Tony is too damn readable for his own good, and Bucky has got time to figure his and Rogers’ shit out. Besides, the team is starting to grow on him.]

I have no clue what happened to this. It was supposed to be MCU, then morphed into a sort-of Leverage AU? Also banter. *shrugs* I hope the ridiculousness makes up for my inactivity these past (and future) few days :)

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