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starzioo · 2 months

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𝐂.𝐃 ❦ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘.

This is a fluff 2pt. series of Cedric Diggory! This is the first time you two met, it takes place in the goblet of fire!

No warnings!

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"Y/N!" "Y/N! WAKE UP!" You groggily open your eyes to see Hermione yelling at you. "Five more minutes Mione!" "No! Molly said breakfast is done and to get you down there now!" "Ehhh, ok" you said still half asleep. "Now, excuse me, I must wake Harry and Ron." As you finally get up, you get dressed and do your hair. You come down the stairs to see the table filled with possibly the most amazing breakfast ever. "Well finally! Hermione and I have been trying to get you up for almost an hour now!" Molly shouts at you. "Now eat! Quickly!" You immediately grabbed a plate and started grabbing all the good bacon pieces. Just when you were about to eat a piece, someone snatches it out of your hand. You turn around to see Fred and George splitting up the piece and eating it. "Are you serious? There's literally like a million other pieces on the table, why mine?" You say annoyed. "Yours looked better!" They both say in sync. "Good god it's too early for this." You say putting your hand on your head. They laugh and sit at the table. "Good morning Weaslys!" Athur Weasly says coming in the front door. "Y/n, how are you this morning?" Athur says sitting down across from you. "Good." You say yawning. "What's up with her?" Athur whispers to Fred and George. "Not a morning person." they say in sync laughing a bit. "Well, are the boys up yet?" Arthur asks. "Hermione is getting them up right now" Fred says. "She's been trying all morning." George says laughing.

TIME SKIP TO WHEN THEY LEAVE THE HOUSE

"Where are we even going?" Hermione asks. "Yeah dad! where are we going?" Ron asks. "Haven't the foggiest. Keep up!" Arthur says. After a couple more minutes of walking you hear a booming voice says "Arthur! It's about time son!" "Sorry Amos, some of us had a sleepy start." Arthur says looking back at you, Ron, and Harry. "This is Amos Diggory everyone! Works with me at the ministry!" Suddenly a golden haired boy jumps down from the tree above. "This strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" Says Arthur. "Yes sir." Cedric says with a warm smile shaking his hand. You, Hemione, and Ginny all look at each other smiling. "Well that definitely woke me up." You say to Hermione smiling, she laughs. As you all continue walking, you trip over a tree branch causing everything in your bag to fall out. "Hey you okay?" a tender voice says, you look up to Cedric offering you a hand. "Yeah I'm fine." You say smiling a bit, grabbing your things out of the leafs. He helps you up and you two start to walk together. "So do you know where we are going anyways?" You say. "Uh I don't wanna spoil it." Cedric says softly laughing. "Hey I never caught your name?" Cedric says "Oh sorry, it's Y/n." "That's pretty." He says smiling. "Oh, thank you." You say a bit flushed. "You go to Hogwarts, right?" He asks. "Yeah.." You say a bit confused. "What house are you in?" "Oh, Slytherin...heh" You say a bit embarrassed because of the reputation your house has. "What? Never would I have expected you to be in Slytherin?" He says confused. "Yeahh I don't know, I've always thought it was a mistake with the hat or something. I don't really like the other people in my house; they're all just a bit stuck up, anyways what house are you in?" "Hufflepuff, I couldn't really imagine myself in any other house I feel like it suits me, you know?" he says softly. "It certainly does." You say slightly smiling at him. As you two walk you both continue to get to know each other. Suddenly the group stops. "You seemed to have brightened up quickly!" Fred whispers to you teasingly. "Shut it." you say glaring at him. "Where are we?" you say as you try to get to the front of the group. "An old boot? We walked all this way to a boot?" You say to Cedric un-impressed, he laughs. "Not just any boot Y/n it's a port key." He said smiling. "Yes! Correct you are Cedric! Okay now! Everyone put their hand on the boot!" Arthur says happily. Making sure you have all your stuff you put your hand on the boot, immediately you feel another hand on top of yours. You look up to see Cedric slightly smiling at you, then suddenly you are transported to a camp sight of some sort. "This my friends is the Quidditch World Cup!" Arthur says raising his hands. Your face immediately lit up "Arthur are you serious?" You say excitedly, you run up and hug him. "Why's she so excited?" Cedric asks George. "She just loves quidditch" George says "She made the Slytherin team her first year you know?" Fred chimes. "Wow.." Cedric says. "So where are we staying?" You ask Arthur. "Ah yes, right this way children!" Arthur exclaims. "You know he had everyone keep this a secret from me." you say to Cedric. "You serious? If that were me, I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut. You see I play for Hufflepuff." He says smiling "Really?" You say excitedly, "I play for Slytherin! You know what's weird we've played against Hufflepuff countless times, and for some reason, I've never noticed you?" you questioned. "Well, we don't exactly have the strongest team.." He laughs a bit. "Well, one day I hope we can play a good game together." You say smiling at him. "Hey...by any chance would you want to go grab a butter beer with me?" Cedric asks with a nervous tone to his voice. "Yes, of course..I would love to. Let me just go get settled in at the tent then we can go okay?" "Okay...see you then," he says walking away with his father.

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I’ve met the character limit..again lol. Pt. 2 linked below!

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory fanfiction #hufflepuff #slytherpuff #fandom #harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp fanfic #hp #hp fandom #harry potter and the goblet of fire #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory fluff #cedric diggory x you #x you fluff #x y/n fluff #x reader

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nicoline1998enilocin · 9 months

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An abundance of dogs

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Chris Evans x Girlfriend!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.1K

SUMMARY | You're dog-sitting for a friend of yours, and decide to surprise Chris by saying you got him a new dog as a present. He's not sure what to think at first, but when you tell him it's a prank, he can't help but fall in love with you even more than he already has.

WARNING(S) | None.

A/N | This one shot takes place in the same 'universe' as Two dogs and a piano. You don't need to have read that to understand this, but it would still be appreciated if you check it out in case you haven't already 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

A few days ago you got a call from a good friend of yours, Stella, to ask if you could watch her German shepherd, Sky. She had to go home for a family emergency and unfortunately, she couldn't take the lovely dog with her, so you immediately said yes. You would be working from home for a few days anyways, so it was nice to have an extra dog around. Willow and Sky have always gotten along great so it was an absolute no-brainer for you, and you picked up the lovely dog yesterday. ''Hi Sky, are you ready to spend a few days with me and Willow when your mom has to go back home?'' you asked the dog and she happily wagged her tail at you.

''Thank you so much for doing this, I owe you big time,'' Stella said when you picked her up. ''Oh no, you don't! You know I love Sky like she's my own, so it's no problem at all. I am working from home anyways so having extra company is always a big plus,'' you laughed before taking Sky down to your car and on your way to your house. When you were there all three of you went up to your apartment and you opened the balcony doors, so the two dogs could go onto the balcony if they pleased. You grabbed a cold glass of iced tea, your laptop, and your earbuds so you could focus on work, but put the music on low enough that you could still hear the two dogs when necessary.

They were playing with each other for a while and you got some work done, which was always good, and you suddenly got a text from Chris. He was away for a shoot and he took Dodger with him this time, so you didn't have to watch over him, but he would be coming home today.

Chris 💙: Hi babe, are you free tonight? I'll be home soon and I can't wait to see you again! I missed you and Willow way too much! 🥺

Y/N 🩷: Hey bubs, we missed you too, and I'm free! Want me to cook dinner tonight at your place? I can stay over too if you want ❤️

Chris 💙: You're the best babe, can't wait to see you tonight!

With that you finished your work, stopping a little earlier than you planned but if you had to cook dinner at Chris' house, you had to leave on time to do some grocery shopping beforehand, especially with both of the dogs with you. You went to a dog-friendly grocery shop and the girls had the time of their lives, sniffing through every aisle making the shopping trip way longer than it needed to be. You bought both of the girls a chew that they could enjoy when you were at Chris' house, and of course, you got one for Dodger too, but he got a smaller one so it would be fair for all of them. ''All right girls, let's go!'' you said as you were done at the register and they got all the love from the girl behind it.

Not much later you arrived at Chris' house and unlocked the door, finding him asleep on the couch. You sank on your knees to wake him up, placing soft kisses on his face as he slowly woke up. ''Hi babe, missed you,'' he said with a deep voice thick with sleep, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. He cupped your cheek and brought your face to his after propping himself up on his arm, kissing you softly yet passionately. ''I got you a surprise,'' you said and he looked at you with wide eyes, his interest peaked immediately. ''Oh? You didn't have to, babe!'' he said as the both of you got up, and you led him to the garden, where all three dogs were playing with each other.

''I got you another dog because you and Dodger seemed a bit lonely with just the two of you,'' you said as a joke, but Chris' mouth fell open, not sure what to say to this. ''Are you serious, babe? I mean, I love it, obviously, but I think we have a bit of an abundance of dogs now,'' he said and your face turned into a face-splitting grin, notifying Chris that it was just a joke. ''Oh, you're terrible!'' he said as he pushed jokingly against your upper arm. ''I know, I know!'' you laughed. ''Don't worry, I'm just dog-sitting for my friend Stella for a few days, it's her German Shepherd named Sky, she's an absolute sweetheart,'' you explained and it immediately made Chris feel better when you told him just that. ''I love you so much, you know that?'' he said as he pulled you in for a hug, kissing you on the top of your head. ''I love you too, bubs,'' you sighed as you leaned into the hug.

''So, time to prepare dinner! You can just sit down, I will do all the work today,'' you said as you got out the groceries you got for dinner. You decided on making homemade spicy hamburgers today, so you got ground beef and a lot of fresh vegetables to put on them. Chris sat down at his kitchen island as you prepared dinner for both of you, so the two of you could catch up a little before going outside to enjoy your dinner together. You brought the food out, and Chris brought a beer for each of you to drink with the hamburgers. ''Oh, I got each of the dogs a chew, I thought it would help them to calm down a little before dinner!'' you said as you got them, and handed them to each of the dogs who were chewing on them contently on the grass.

''They look so sweet now, don't they?'' you smiled and you looked at Chris. ''Not as sweet as you are, my love,'' he said before putting 2 fingers under your chin, lifting your head slightly as he moved closer to capture your lips in another breathtaking kiss, and you melted into it. ''God, I missed you so much,'' you say almost breathless as the two of you break apart, the butterflies in both your stomachs going haywire. ''Oh, I will show you just how much I missed you later, babe, don't you worry about that,'' he said with a wink and it made you blush, so you quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn't notice, but he did. He always did. And that is just another reason he is so deeply in love with you, the love of his life.

#chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fluff

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stories-of-the-nrm · 5 months

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The Great Race Part 1

Narrator: It was a beautiful summer day on the Island of Sodor. Everyone works on their delivering their trains on time. Gordon especially, takes great pride in making sure the Express arrives on time.

(We see Gordon waiting at a red signal. Suddenly Thomas blows his whistle.)

Gordon: Gahh!

Thomas (laughing): Wake up lazy wheels! The Express can't be stopped all day you know. Some of us have work to do. I bet I can make it to Vicarstown faster than you.

(Gordon moans. The signal turns green and Gordon speeds away.)

Annie: That wasn't very nice, Thomas.

Clarabel: You know that Gordon's a very fast engine. He'll make you look very silly.

(Thomas calms down.)

Thomas: Relax, ladies. I'm just teasing him. And besides, the Express always has the right of way. Everyone knows that.

(We follow Gordon through his journey on the Main Line until he stops at the station in Vicarstown.)

Gordon: Oh yes. Right on time. Of course that isn't a surprise if you're me.

(Donald who's pulling a freight train to the Mainland just rolls his eyes.)

Narrator: As he waits for his departure time, Gordon hears Thomas' whistle.

Gordon: Well, well, well little Thomas. Looks like I beat you to Vicarstown after all.

(Thomas pulls up to the platform right next to Gordon's.)

Thomas: Oh come on, Gordon. It's not like we were really racing.

(Gordon is about to say something when he hears a whistle he hasn't heard in a long time.)

Gordon: No. It couldn't be.

(Thomas looks in the direction Gordon's looking in.)

Thomas: Wow. Is that who I think it is?

Narrator: A large green engine with two tenders backs into Vicarstown station next to Thomas.

Thomas: Hello there. I'm Thomas. Are you who I think you are?

(Before he can speak, Gordon cuts in.)

Gordon: Yes Thomas, you should know who this is. This is my brother, the Flying Scotsman.

Flying Scotsman: Oh! Hello, Gordon. Haven't seen you in a while. Don't tell me your run has been shorted to Vicarstown already.

Gordon (scoffing): Oh please. Like my controller would ever shorten my run. I always run my trains on time and provide reliable services.

Thomas: You don't even travel 100 miles on a one way trip, Gordon. I'm sure the Flying Scotsman works way harder than you do.

(He laughs.)

Flying Scotsman: Oh I wouldn't be so formal, Thomas. You can just call me, Scott. Why calling me the Flying Scotsman almost makes me sound famous.

(Gordon rolls his eyes.)

Gordon: Just say what you wanted to say, Scott. Some of us actually have work to do.

Scott: Ah yes. I wanted to tell you some news. Now I don't know if you heard this yet, but on the Mainland there is to be an international steam exhibition show. Many competitions will be held and I will be racing.

(Gordon makes an exasperated gasp.)

Thomas: Wow. I didn't even know engines could race.

Scott: Of course we can race. I might not be able to hit my 100 mph record, but I can still win a race or two. I wouldn't be the pride of the LNER if I wasn't fast.

Gordon (huffing): If that's all you came here to say, you wasted your breath. I wouldn’t want to be part of such foolishness anyway. I'm not a show off like you, Scott. Some of us have class.

Scott: Oh I wouldn't be so quick to blow it off, Gordon. This could be your chance to show the world what you Sodor engines are made of.

Thomas: I definitely want to go to the Mainland and show what I'm made of.

Scott (chuckling): Well Thomas, you my friend have a lot of heart. Who knows, maybe I'll see you all at the show.

(The conductor blows his whistle.)

Scott: Flying Scotsman coming through!

(The title "Hit Entertainment presents" appears.)

Flying Scotsman: Flying Scotsman, coming through!

(The subtitle "Created by Britt Allcroft" appears.)

Gordon: Ooh!

(The Flying Scotsman drives off screen with his train as the subtitle "Based on The Railway Series by the Rev W Awdry" appears. Thomas looks surprised as the subtitle "Written by Andrew Brenner" appears. We cut to a birds eye view of the track to the Mainland as the subtitles "Told by Mark Moraghan" and "Executive Producer Christopher Keenan" appear.)

Thomas: Wow. I can't believe the Great Railway Show's only a month away.

(He sees a man gluing a poster about the show saying it will take place on August 1st, 1965.)

Sir Topham Hatt: That's right, Thomas. I haven't decided if we would even be competing in the event yet. We still have a railway to run.

Thomas (a little dejected): Yes sir.

Narrator: Thomas makes his way back to the shunting yard. Gordon meanwhile, is still grumbling about seeing his brother.

Gordon: Unbelievable. My brother didn't even write to me in so long. Now out of nowhere he wants to act as if nothing happened. Typical.

(Time passes and Gordon grumbles all the way back to Tidmouth Sheds.)

Tagging: @jayde-jots, @pandorauniverse616, @klein-sodor-bahn, @colaxcoco, @glitterking599, @bluy1206, @oldslowcoach, @thefedoragirl, @nlliah, @postmodernpre-grouping, @ihatewoodpeckers, and @theyellowroseofsodor.

#flying scotsman #ttte fandom #lner a3 #ttte gordon #the great race rewrite

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hel-phoenyx · 27 days

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Senri is the Almighty gf's character, Nicomaque @soupedepates's and Inquisitor @noa-de-cajou's

I don't know how I ended up here. One moment I was happy, calm, planning my next days as much as I could, wanting to ask Thibault out even if I knew I wouldn't be taken seriously again why would he there's no way he wants something with me no way he can still like me after letting my letters unanswered and stopping to write to me altogether and

And the other moment I am sat on a wall far, far away in Tokyo with the man I loathe the most of all that school next to me, smoking the thirtiest cig of the hour.

And here I promised no one would see me in that state since Senri. Pathetic idiot I am.

Nicomaque holds the pack in front of me.

"Want one ?"

I'm on seven months sober, but right now refusing would take me too much energy. I take one, and he lights it with his own. I won't admit that turns me on yet. I'm too dazed to be horny anyway.

I inhale the smoke in silence, and the familiar taste brings some sort of clarity to my blood-soaked brain.

Nicomaque gives me one of his smug smiles. I want to rip it off.

"Still not gonna talk, huh."

"Shut up."

"Ah, thought as much. And now that you can talk, what do we say to the man that distracted Inquisitor away so we could sneak out ?"

"Fuck you."

"Still the vocabulary of a five year-old, I see your brain hasn't quite come into place. You're welcome, van Heel."

Stop smiling. It infuriates me. But at the same time, I didn't think I could feel something.

I hate this brand of cigs. Of course, he picks it because he knows the smell on him is even more damning this way. At least, this time, that stops me from finishing the smoke, and asking for another. I just crush it on the wall next to me, dangerously close of his hand, without looking his way.

I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate showing a hint of weakness. I hate that it's him who saw that.

I don't even remember what triggered the meltdown. I'm not supposed to have meltdowns that violent. Last time was when I saw Senri's scars, so different and similar to mine at the same time, but no one showed me pain or sadness this time, so why did I end up too weak to even tell Nicomaque to go fuck himself, and maybe let me watch because you can't change a man ?

I am so tired.

He puts off his own cig, before jumping off the wall.

"Well, if you're not gonna talk, that means I can bring you anywhere and exploit you without retaliation. You paying me something to drink ?"

"Dream of it, Papoulos."

"Mister millionnaire doesn't want to help the proletariat, shame. I guess I will have to steal your credit card to correct that mistake."

"Aren't you from a well-off family in Greece?"

How do I know that ? Because he brought me there once for a week in summer vacation. I met his family, or more accurately I met his grandmother. Immediatly weirded out, might I add. I'm not well-versed in family dynamic but I know how to recognize overbearing and although involuntary emotional manipulation.

The prime example of emotional incest standing right in front of me, with his shoes untied since this morning. I'm waiting for the moment he trips on them. I wonder who tied them, huh... Oh, I'm an idiot. Augusta. End of May 2019, they are in a relationship since maybe one or two weeks, and he still haven't driven her away. Almost a miracle.

My commentary is only making him laugh. Funny how that is amlost waking me up.

"Yeah, Greece. Economy crisis and all that. i'm sure your bank account has enough to cover the expenses of a poor college student, you posh bourgeois."

"Fine ! I heard you! Let's indulge in your alcohol addiction, asshole, but I'm not paying more than 5000 yen !"

"Good enough. Come here, walking wallet, let's get drunk before getting back to class."

Alright, once can't hurt, I guess. Louna is probably gonna kill me if she learns where I was, and Sharon must be worried sick not seeing me in the school grounds, but I'm too empty to care, and right now only thing worth a fill is the immoral Ethician's smug smile.

#hel is talking #la peste moderne #hel ocs #lpm #hel stories #hel writing #sometimes the soothing is not what's good for you #but at this point what is seeking healing and therapy when you can have a quick something to make you less self-destructive ?#oh wait isn't that just another facet of the self-destruction :D

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draftingteacups · 2 years

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So, how did Soni and Happiny celebrated Deuce's birthday?

this evolved into a what if scenario aaaaaa- but it's pretty close to what I think Soni would do.

Well, it all starts in Heartslabyul, mostly with Happiny waking up before Deuce to wish him a good morning and a "Happy Birthday!" when he finally wakes up. By the time he does, Happiny is taken by Ace to breakfast where Deuce is treated to an Egg-based breakfast.

Omelet Rice made by Trey as well as Happiny doing her best to serve a glass of Oran Berry juice. Happiny tries her best to write an encouraging saying, but decides to do a whole bunch of hearts! 💕💕💕

Those hearts are a little messy, but Deuce loves them anyway. That's when Deuce is handed his letterman jacket or his Birthday Boy White Suit.

Happiny would want to wear it and Deuce lets her, thinking that she looks adorable in the outfit. He takes so many pictures and Cater does so as well.

Ace first pranks him with a gag gift (a pair of socks because track club yo) before handing off something that Deuce has been wanting for a while.

When the whole dorm celebrations are over, that's when Soni goes over and greets him Happy Birthday after dealing with the whole birthday preparations.

Deuce saw Soni running around making her rounds in the school as usual, but she also helped out with the desserts that there was a full spread of Pokepuffs, Malasada, and Poffins for people to try out. Even though Trey helped her, Deuce was grateful for the gift. Although because of that, she was pretty much busy up until that point.

Soni holds her arms out for Happiny, much to the little one's delight: "Happy Birthday, Deuce."

Deuce: "Ah, thanks Prefect! I haven't been able to talk to you much today."

Soni: "Nah, that's fine. It's your birthday."

Soni goes silent after that, cuddling with Happiny in her arms. The three of them just stand in comfortable silence before Happiny chirps, "Happiny!" Mama, don't be shy!

Deuce, having no idea of what Happiny just said: "Huh?"

Soni sighs and gestures outside where they can both be in peace. Once they're there, Soni looks around to see if there were any eavesdroppers and sees none. Letting Happiny down, she turns to the Birthday Boy who was only growing more confused. They were in the dark, so Deuce couldn't see Soni's face.

"I didn't know what to give you for your birthday. I'm not... used to these sorts of situations." A self-depreciative smile came on her face as she shrugged. "I don't get invited a lot. When I do, it's pretty boring. Frustrating really when it's a whole posturing thing and whatnot."

"Oh." Deuce didn't really know what to make of that.

"So yeah, picking a gift was tough." She fidgeted, looking uncomfortable at the admission. "And then Happiny gave me the idea of what to give, so this isn't just my gift. It's both mine and Happiny's, so make sure to thank her for this idea."

"Of course." The response was immediate.

"So," Soni took out a small box from her pocket, "Happy Birthday, Deuce."

As Deuce unwrapped it, he felt weirdly nervous. Because Soni was usually pretty calm about these things and seeing her being awkward about it made him feel awkward about it, which made it even more awkward. That all stopped once he looked at the gift itself.

It was a simple Pokeball, full-sized from its miniature form.

Deuce's breath hitched, "Prefect-"

"Happiny's been considered a Wild Pokemon for all these months. That could lead to some complicated things with ownership should some asshole try and capture her," Soni cut him off, not looking directly at him. "So it felt right to do this, especially when you're travelling with Happiny back home in a few days- Oof!"

Deuce caught Soni in a tight hug, a laugh escaping him at the joy of this level of trust. "Thank you so much, Soni!"

Winter Break was rough, especially when he'd been part of the reason why Soni had been upset. Happiny had been looking forward to going on a trip with the two of them when Final Exams broke out. When she'd been dragged into another Overblot right after dealing with one, Deuce was unsure if she was alright to even talk about the whole mess of the contracts. When they all talked to one another and why they did what they did, it didn't immediately fade away. It took time, but they eventually got back to how they were before.

Soni was protective over her stash of Pokeballs due to what they meant in her world. Power, companionship, control, all sorts of things that Deuce pieced together over time. For her to give him a Pokeball meant so much more than words could ever hope to describe.

"Alright, alright." Deuce could hear the telltale sigh of her fond exasperation. "You don't need to do this much."

"Happiny Happiny!"

"You don't need to point that out, Happiny." That made Deuce curious. Soni shifted in his arms at that, her face still cloaked in darkness. "Honestly, I don't know where you got that attitude from. ...Come over here."

Happiny jumped towards them both, a cheerful giggle escaping her. "Happiny Hap Hap!"

"Ah, Prefect, should I...?"

"It's a simple tap to the head. It's real easy."

Deuce kneeled down to Happiny, "Here we go, Happiny."

Happiny took that chance to boop herself against the Pokeball, disappearing in a flash of red. The device wiggled. Wiggled twice. And chimed.

"You know what to do at this point?"

"I've watched you do this so many times. It'd be embarrassing not too." Deuce grinned widely as he threw the Pokeball into the air. "C'mon out, Happiny!"

As Happiny emerged from the light and threw her little arms around him, Deuce couldn't have hoped for a better birthday.

#ask #what if #soni monet #happiny #happy birthday #deuce spade #twisted wonderland #pokemon

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vault81 · 3 months

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OC Interview

I was tagged by @orionlancasterr to do an OC Interview! So here is Jacks! (though I may edit this later with more of them)

"Oh- you uh wanna interview me? fuck it why not! ask away!"

name:

"I go by Jack mainly, but I guess you want 'ma 'government name'"

He starts biting down on his lip while his eyes scan the room

"I think it's Jack Andrew Cooke, ha! It's been a hot minute since I had to remember that one! Not used that since the G.O.A.T! exam!"

nickname:

"My nickname? most folks just call me 'courier' or 'six' but back east people did start calling me 'the lone wanderer', That one doesn't exactly roll off the tongue like the other two though."

gender:

"I'm a male! or man! dude works too!"

star sign:

"Uhhh what's my what?"

After being told what a star sign is, he begins counting on his fingers to work out when exactly his birthday is and what that'd make him, breaking out in a bright wide-eyed smile when he finally figured it out.

"I'm a libertarian! Oh- Arcade say's I'm wrong, apparently it's 'Libra', close enough in my book."

personality type:

"My personality type? uh, I'm a nice guy, I guess? I can be a bit dense sometimes, but I try not to be mean or rude.. wait, that's not what the question means does it?"

height:

"The last time my height got checked out, I think I just shy of 6'3? no wait! Arcade is around my height! and he's 6'3 I think? so yeah! I must be!"

orientation:

"Uh- hold on, lemme check my compass.."

He tries to stop himself from laughing, as if he just made the funniest joke in the world

"Bahahahaha! d'ya get it?! orientation, compas- oh okay I guess It wasn't as funny as I thought... uh- I suppose you could say I'm into guys, always have been I suppose.."

nationality/ethnicity:

"American! I'm sure 'liza said we had some Scottish in us too, Wherever that is!"

favourite fruit:

"Hmmm I'm gonna say Watermelon! They didn't grow 'em often down in the vault, so when they did, it was always for a special occasion! I haven't found anything out here that compares to them yet!"

favourite season:

"Winter! I absolutely hate the heat- yeah I know I live in a desert whatever! But I just love when it gets freezing, wrapping up warm in front of a fire and getting all cozy! and the snow! I love snow!"

favourite flower/scent:

"Lavender, I think it's just for the smell really. It reminds me of home, 'specially Old Lady Palmer! she used to smell like that when she'd come and babysit us! It's just become a comforting scent I guess, If that even is a thing?"

A smile crosses his lips as he closes his eyes, softening as he briefly relives those early years of his childhood

coffee/tea/hot chocolate:

"I'm gonna go with hot chocolate! I don't like how bitter coffee can be, besides It messes with my stomach, so I can't really drink it anyway!"

average hours of sleep:

"7-8 hours I'd guess.. used to be I'd be getting 'round 9-10 but we're always on the move these days so I've gotta be up early!"

"Although good luck waking me up! I sleep like a brick!"

dog or cat person:

"Dogs! Dog's all the way! One of our first adventures outside of the Vault me and 'liza found a dog! he kinda just kept following us around, think his owner died or something, we ended up calling him Dogmeat!"

He smiles, looking down at his pipboy, a picture of a blue heeler smiling away while it gets a bath is on the screen.

"'course we had to give Dogmeat away when we left D.C, he was getting old by that point, so it was best for him. Besides, he's in good hands with Moira!"

dream trip:

"My dream trip? ya'know I don't think I really have a 'dream trip' never had a place that I've been dying to go! guess you could say I've always been about the journey rather than the destination."

favourite fictional/real character:

"Hmmm.. think I'm gonna say The Mechanist! what's not to love about a dude with a robot army?! I mean yeah he was a villain but rule of cool overrules I think!"

"Ya know that reminds me I actually met 'The Mechanist' a coupla years ago.. fought a 'gal dressed up as The Antagoniser, but I'll save that story for later!"

number of blankets you sleep with:

"I actually don't sleep with a blanket most nights, my body runs too hot! I end up overheating under those things, Arcade compares me to a human furnace, so he ends up hogging 'em all!"

random fact:

"I'm actually allergic to some types of medicine! my eyes get all itchy and swell up! mainly ibuprofen that does that one... I just pop a anti-histamine and I'm right as rain though!"

Jack jumps to his feet stretching out all his limbs and gestures to the door

"Now, was that all? I got a few errands to run for the Followers over in Freeside!"

Since I'm not too sure who to tag (idk who else has done this or not) I'll just leave it open for anyone who else who wants to do it!

#oc; jack #oc interview #fallout #hope this is good lol #took me a few days to write #I'm such a slow writer lol #i just find it hard starting something!!#also I hope portayed what a fucking dork Jack is #he is only funny to himself #and only smart to himself #love my himbo

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cottagecorrosive · 5 months

Text

A post to myself so no one read it pls

I'm going to be okay. Someday I'm going to wake up with the dawn and have the warmth of the sun gently get me out of bed. I will go into the kitchen of a small home that we bought together after we have experienced the world despite never leaving the country. I will cook breakfast: pancakes with lots of syrup, eggs, bacon, hot coco...your favorite. I'll wake you up with the smell of a lovingly made meal and gentle sound of me humming our song. We have plenty, but each melody reminds me of you. That's why I can get out of bed. The sun and the warmth remind me I will have another gentle day with you. We'll eat on the porch outside and listen to the morning birds. Our jobs will be worthwhile. We'll have a garden. We'll have a golden lab and name him Rusty. He won't be bright, but he'll shine. We'll have plenty of room to breath and to run and to skip and to frolic. We'll act like no one is watching because the only person i care about who looks at me is you...and i know you love me. And you know I love you too. Forever and always. I'll be able to sit in the living room. I'll be happy to wake up. It'll be hard going to sleep because of how excited I am for tomorrow. We'll be okay. Our minds may not be fixed from all that we've been through, but we know how to love each other's scars. At night we'll have fires and smores and we'll cuddle watching a movie you fall asleep halfway through. I'll carry you to bed and kiss your forehead before trailing off to a dream that will never compare to the life we have. We'll have a family that accepts for who we are and we enjoy the holidays. I haven't been on social media for months. We'll make pinky promises and keep them because they are the most important thing. Chores are not a chore. We'll wash the dishes together and sing our favorite songs. We'll do laundry together and sing The Devil Went Down to Georgia in time with our broken yet usable washing machine. We appreciate living and the living. We'll go hiking all the time and take the time to relax. We'll see each other in the stars. We each have our own space and can appreciate time together and apart. We'll need time to be alone, but I can't wait to tell you what I did and I can't wait to hear what you did. We'll be gentle with each other. In every way. We'll try to bake and create new recipes. Probably failing most of the time, but laughing at how gooey the cake looks and eating it anyway. We won't get angry anymore. At anyone. I'll say I love you a million times and minute and mean it every time. It's my only constant thought. We'll take pictures of everywhere we go and hang them on the wall. Some we'll forget, but they'll be there. Every day I will fall in love with you again. Every few nights we'll get dressed in our nicest clothes and dance on the porch. We'll try to learn new ways to dance and will never be able to because we'll just fall to the floor laughing at ourselves. I'll still practice when I'm alone to impress you next time. We both will. We'll never stop trying to impress each other. I'll learn your favorite songs on guitar and we'll sing together. When we're doing chores I'll turn off my music to head you softly humming. I'll never be tired again. Not like I was. Not like I am. We'll read together, not saying a word. We'll sometimes buy gifts for each other, but most of the time it'll be crafts of love. A crotched ghost. A song. A birdhouse. A trip. A crown made from daisies. We'll exist together. Somehow never getting in the way of the other. We'll celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, Halloweens, Christmases, Easter to the fullest extent. Not to celebrate them, but to have an excuse to have fun with each other. We'll appreciate every season and the change they bring. The Spring. The Summer. The Autumn. The Winter. Change and love are the only constants. We'll wash each other's hair. We'll do things for one another because we want to, not because we have to. We'll be content.

Life will be gentle and worth living.

#forever and always

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dzpenumbra · 9 months

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7/27/23

Today has been a very... BIG day. Very full.

I woke up after 6 hours of sleep. I was going to roll over and go back to sleep, but I decided to journal my dream instead. It was a dream about me living in an apartment with a roommate, I haven't had roommates since... 2008? I was living there with my cat, we had the upstairs bedroom (like my current apartment, an upstairs loft with a half-wall). The big difference was, in order to get up there, you had to use a ladder.

My roommate had some friends over and invited me to smoke weed with them. He reassured me knowingly that it was a very CBD heavy blend, so I wouldn't have to worry about freakouts as much. I found that very considerate. I smoked, and within the dream I experienced a unique simulation of being high - I'm struggling to even put it into words. The floaty fuzzy feeling. The alterations to brightness and I keep wanting to say that like... bubble effect to vision? But I don't really know how to say that in a more articulate way. Anyway, I was definitively high, but still functional. But... even just acknowledging that I was high and around people made my caution bells go off. And I felt compelled to retreat to my bedroom and take a shower. In fact... that was really my plan since before I even smoked. I came up with this whole exit plan in case I got overwhelmed - just climb the ladder and go shower and chill in my room. Very true to life. So, despite not actually freaking out, I reacted preemptively... I announced I was going to go shower and started to climb the ladder, and when I got to the top, I had to climb off the ladder and over the wall, and it was very precarious and very high up and I felt really unsafe doing it. And that's where I woke up.

The whole dream made me reflect a bunch. First on my cat, which had me sobbing in bed for a bit. As much as grief hurts, it was really nice to think of her again, she really meant so much to me. Second, on how the fuck my cat was supposed to get around the apartment with that ladder. Then, I started tracking this behavior back. When did this whole "I have to be really careful if I'm smoking weed around other people" thing start? Because it feels super familiar. It feels... exactly like my "need" (compulsion/fear) to prepare and script interactions just... for everyday function now.

The furthest back I traced it was my first year of college. Which was a complete shit show. I smoked weed every fucking day. Every day. I smoked so often that I had an inside joke with an exchange student, because they would greet me, "Hi, _____" and I would just say "yes" or "no" depending on whether I was high or not, and it was almost always yes. To the point where she gave me the nickname "High _____" to solidify the joke, and it spread to other people too. My friendships were built on smoking as the foundation. My high school friends who were the reason I went to that college in the first place? They were half a campus away in a different dorm and barely smoked at all, so we just... grew apart immediately. Then one day, my friend R and I went and smoked a shit ton of resin and I went directly to an English class. I had the mother of all freakouts (at the time, I've actually had bigger ones since). It was like a bad trip, honestly. I've described it on here before. But the basic themes were... loss of bodily functions (like being afraid of pissing myself or farting without knowing) and public humiliation (the entire class pointing and laughing at me).

After that freakout, I stopped going to that class. And then stopped going to other classes for similar reasons. Eventually was asked not to come back to college with a 0.5 GPA. Ironic that I literally spend every waking moment studying now, and I'm genuinely entertaining the idea of becoming a teacher.

The thing that sparked my memory though? The nail in the coffin? It was a different time, a different freakout. One that was much more subtle. I don't remember if this was a mushroom trip or a weed high... but I was in the courtyard of the college, a big brick circular courtyard between the 3 main dorms. I was with a group of friends, but most of them I didn't know. I think I was just sorta... floating around following an acquaintance, someone I knew, but really didn't know that well. And I got that same thing, that imaginative scene where everyone in the group was laughing at me. And with my whole insecurity with body odor and body function and stuff back then - and I was super insecure about that until like... my early 30's, like I used to not even use public bathrooms, thank god that's finally over - I again made the connection that it must've been because I lost a bodily function or something. I mean, what else would it be, right? My memory is really hazy of this, but I do remember clearly just sorta... detaching from the social group for a bit... and just being stuck in that looping nightmare in my head... then following up with the acquaintance in her dorm suite later that night, and she assured me that she didn't know what the fuck I was talking about.

Two episodes, the same thing, both times I went to sources to verify whether my anxiety attack was a real thing... both times I was met with weird looks and treated extremely dismissively. The English teacher told me I needed to "lay off the mind-altering drugs" and asked me to leave. The acquaintance just sorta looked at me like I was nuts and stopped hanging out with me. So... with no one to help me make any sense of this situation, and it being... late 2004? Panic attacks, anxiety disorders, shit like that? It wasn't stuff that people commonly talked about. People were still asking each other for their AIM usernames. I was still using a flip-phone. I was afraid I was losing my mind, and afraid I was going to be involuntarily institutionalized for it. Not losing my mind because of the drugs, of course. I didn't think they caused permanent damage to my mind. I may have been an anxious wreck, but I've never been that superstitious. But I was afraid that I was kinda... maturing into a pre-existing psychological disorder. AKA... going crazy. And, to be fair, in a way... I did. But a big part of me wonders... how avoidable really was that? Did weed just accelerate it due to enhancing my emotions and sensory experiences, so those anxieties and panics and fears were that much more intense? So much that they left more vivid scars, so it didn't take catastrophes like me kayaking in a flooded river to face a traumatic event... it just took me going to class, missing a teacher's joke and just hearing the laughing, and assuming they were laughing at me, connecting the dots in nightmarish worst-case-scenario ways. And that trauma, that was so real to me, being too much to process with no one to help. And activating years of suppressed PTSD. Like the straw that broke the camel's back kinda thing.

I do believe that, honestly. That weed's contribution in negatively impacting my mental health was simply to amplify something that was very clearly already happening at a more subtle and still somewhat functional level. And that something, that anxiety disorder, existed since before I even tried weed.

So... what I'm kinda getting at? This whole... "I need to come up with an escape plan so I can do this (drink, drop ecstasy, smoke weed, drive while tired, anything that reduces my faculties and makes me vulnerable)" thing originated from those experiences. Almost 19 years ago. When I have had trusted friends around, it has eased. This self-protective planning mechanism. The anti-impulse. When I took benzodiazepines it was nearly non-existent (along with many other things, like... most of my emotions). This was really the genesis of my struggle to just go out and do shit. It was the birth of my agoraphobia, and the maturation of my anxiety disorder.

When I was in middle school, we had a really small school. I was one of two people in the first graduating 8th grade class. I was one of their first students ever. And in the first bit of school, I won an award for going around and meeting everyone and being able to remember all of their names. And I mean every student, and there were like... 50 of them? And I was 11. I was shy, I was a bit on the quiet side... I preferred one-on-one interactions... but I knew how to socialize. I've always known how to socialize. I used to work a fucking register at a gas station, that job is entirely socializing. So, I really don't think I'm "bad" at socializing, or I'm going to "screw up", like my self-protective fears keep fucking neurotically drilling into my brain with these weird paranoid fantasies that I have to meticulously prepare for.

Those fantasies, those scenarios, those judgments, they all live in my head. And I'm sure that moment in my freshman year of college was not their origin, but it was most definitely when they reached maturity and started to grow deep, deep roots into my life. Instead of me just being tactical about when I needed to use the bathroom... it was me being tactical about... being in social situations at all. It spread from when I was high or tripping to... being drunk... then being on anything... then being tired. (Because I need to be alert and present in order to safely escape a bad or dangerous situation.)

So yeah, that dream was very simple, but very important. It was the primary reason why I started smoking weed again after 15 years, to just face that fucking demon once and for all. It was the reason I wanted to incorporate smoking weed into therapy. And I genuinely, wholeheartedly believe... that a major breakthrough with my social anxiety, my PTSD, this whole compulsively planning for disaster shit? I genuinely think that breakthrough, for my specific traumatic narrative and associations, would come from using weed in therapy. Or, at very least, smoking with a trusted loved one who knew all of these stories, knows what my panic looks like, and is able to be my escape rope. To guarantee that the person I am with is not a threat, but is rather an ally, and help me talk through what I'm going through and face it with me. 4 fucking years I've been trying to get one of 3 different therapists to do this with me. At this point, I think I'm destined to just... wait until I find a romantic partner.

Wow, I really went off there. Yeah. 6 hours of sleep, woke up to that. Did not go back to bed. Went downstairs and played some Mini Metroways very briefly. Actually... I think I did yoga first? I don't remember. I was very eager to try some yoga techniques to unlock my hips that I was breezing over last night. I tried them and realized... I've been struggling in seated positions because... I've been sitting all wrong. I'm sitting on the back of my sitz bones, and my knees have been raised. It's going to take work to really get there, but I remembered a few years ago when I was just first getting into yoga and I was really excited to try half-lotus. And I was actually somewhat good at it, I was much more flexible back then. It's pretty nuts how much of a toll grief and being sedentary for even just 2 years can take on your body. I remembered that when I was trying to get into half-lotus, and I practiced daily, I got to this point where I was just... sitting differently. I felt more perched on top of my legs, rather than what I considered "seated". It physically felt different. And I actually... got to that place again today. I warmed up a bunch, loosened my back and hips up and tried to do seated positions for a good half hour. And I felt a big release that felt almost like a snap in the side of my left hip, and suddenly... I could shift pretty close to that position. It was really cool.

So... again... the double-edged sword of practicing without a teacher... a teacher would have picked up that I was sitting wrong immediately. It took me almost 7 months. God knows how many other poses are like this. So... maybe more reason to consider taking yoga classes. (Oh god, don't think about money... ugh...)

After yoga, cereal, tea and Mini Metroways. That was it. Then... I decided to start work on the griptape. I put on a video that was an artist I really respect that was doing commentary on the Senate hearings about AI art and artists rights and shit. It was... a lot. But not in a doom way. Not for me.

See... I was sitting on the floor hand-painting a mandala on a skateboard. If it's one thing an AI can't do? It's hand-paint. Motherfuckers aint got no hands. See... that hasn't been the reason why I've been gravitating back to the roots of artistic expression. Polishing stones, decorating beads, making precious jewelry, carving staves, decorating bones. Everything hand-made, as much as possible. I prefer it. I prefer to put in the extra effort, to do it slower, to have more time put into the tedious details. That means there's more of me in the piece. Sure, I could just fucking... buy blue dyed wooden beads that are already sealed and finished and string them on a string that has already been manufactured in a factory with the findings already on it and then... it's done. Speedy! But... my only contribution was choosing the parts, and assembling the parts.

Now please do not get me wrong. This is not bad. I love Lego kits as much as anyone else. I was actually really into model building - like model planes and tanks and Warhammer - I absolutely understand and appreciate and value that process. But creatively, as an artist, it's not what I fucking do. What I do is make things by hand. At least currently and in these avenues of artwork.

Given that, I didn't really feel... threatened by AI? Because AI is designed specifically to spit out something quick and thrown together. And that's great, and if in 5 years people are still interested in the novelty of this the same way they love those filters that make it look like they're wearing dog-ears or have sparkles all over their face or something... more power to them!

What I did feel a tremendous compulsion to do... was to get out there and get involved in the art community and preach the gospel of making things by hand. Train those skills, encourage people not to take short-cuts if they want to do it the soulful way. Do not be ashamed of tracing or using AI art, those are simply different things. And also, do not be ashamed of using your hands when there are power-tools readily available, they are different things as well. But with all of this fear of theft and stuff... I mean, that hugely impacts digital artists. And... I'm not a digital artist. I do some digital stuff, but like... okay... an AI could absolutely take my profile picture colored pencil owl illustration and recycle it and someone could sell that shit. Yep. In fact, someone could probably go find it somewhere on the internet and just copy it and sell it as their own. I have a lot more protection if that's the case, but like... Okay. The core of my work... is the soul. The stories behind the piece. What stories/memories/associations the piece might be based on, and its own story as it was being made. What it means to me. Where I was when I made that piece. What I was thinking while I made it. My art... is a relic. It's an artifact. It's far more than just a display of technical skill... or a something pretty... or something useful... It's all of those things, and it has a soul. I have a sorta... animist approach to art, to life really... Every piece has a soul, every item in my home has a story, every piece of clothing, every paper bag. And, to me, those stories are incredibly meaningful. They are precious. They're the story of my life, they are set pieces in my story.

This is what makes it so fucking hard for me to even imagine putting my art in a gallery, because... what do I say?! I could write a fucking book for each and every individual piece of all the soul that went into that piece, the stories attached, the emotions and passion that were put into that. But galleries are not libraries... XD Maybe I'm overthinking, maybe... when I find a gallery owner who actually asks the stories... and I sit down and have a pot of tea with them and tell them everything... they'll reveal to me that... the real ones will seek out the story. The real ones will see a set of hand-polished stones just sitting there on a display with no explanation and both form their own conjectures... but perhaps also seek out what that pieces identity truly is. Why I chose to put those there. Why they were special enough to be on display like museum artifacts. Because, in my life? That's what they are. And I'd love to share the stories.

So yeah, good news. The one thing AI doesn't have? It can imitate my "styles" all fucking day. It can plagiarize and mutate my pieces all day long, and mass produce cheap knockoffs and sell them for pennies. Yep. Like cheap-o postcards of the Mona Lisa for pensioners to send to their grandkids and have them throw it in the trash a week later. Yes, AI can absolutely do that. In the blink of an eye, in fact. But what it can't do - by fucking definition, because of its design for speed, efficiency and mass production... - is make something with a soul. It can't make something with a story. So... I honestly don't really feel threatened by it. That does not mean it's not a problem, especially for artists.

So... I kinda got this fire under my ass to get out in the community and start training people... this. The value of working with your hands. How yes, you can absolutely use power tools, and you'll get a quicker and often more accurate result. But maybe that's not the point. Maybe the point of art is not perfection. Maybe the point of life is not gogogo faster faster more more more. To produce as much stuff for as many people at as perfect precision as possible, as quickly as possible. Of course a machine is going to win that race, every time. What I want to teach is... that race is optional. And there is profound value in... being human. In using your hands. In writing by hand. In polishing by hand. You put more of yourself into your work. Literally. You are directly in contact with it, it has your DNA saturated into it.

But most importantly, at least with where I am right now with the piece I worked on all fucking day... when you work on something by hand there is a higher margin for "error". "Human error". Because, remember... "to err is human", right? So... all the little imperfections? All the little fuck-ups? Mistakes? "Whoops, slipped there..." Those are the piece's humanity. That's the direction I've been starting to go. And I really need it. Obsessing over perfection and speed and detail is so fucking... exhausting and stressful. And I kinda just want a quieter, slower life where it's welcome to make mistakes, to be honest... it's much more peaceful and enriching.

So yeah, I painted and listened to that. I went to take a nap and ended up not napping. I revised my Art To-Do list... elaborated on what I'm going to do when I get to the end of this journal project, reorganized the priority list. Then I took a shower and went for a walk in the woods.

It was super buggy after the flooding. I got eaten alive by mosquitos, it was honestly very difficult because I was trying very hard not to kill them while being swarmed. I understand now why Jainists carry around brushes for swatting away bugs without hurting them. But it was very beautiful out, the sun was pretty when it was setting, I saw lots of rabbits which were so cute and mind-blowingly unafraid of people. I went to give one my apple core, I got within like 8 feet of it but it wasn't down with me crouching down to put the apple core on the ground. It got scared and took off.

I saw lots of young women out, which made me feel... old. Lots of college-aged people around. I've been detached from society so long, I often forget how old I am now... but my hips and back and my quickly fading love handles are definitely a reminder. I kinda just felt... lonely and out of place. Like it would be super hard to find a partner around my age. Like I didn't belong here, and that I even might be intimidating. I mean good lord, with how panicked I get in the city about my safety, I have no fucking clue how women do it. I am constantly in awe of your courage just in daily life, especially juxtaposed with my PTSD safety over-exaggeration. Oh, what I was leading towards... yeah, I was feeling very like... out of place and like I don't belong and "maybe I would fit in better in Canada or Northern California or something..." And then a homeless guy started screaming from a plastic chair by the river nearby. And I immediately started to feel much more normal, much less threatening. XD

Just a quick tangent, I went through like 5 straight minutes of analysis as I was walking... the kind of fascination where you completely forget you have music in your earbuds because of how immersed in the thoughts you are. And I was just exploring... how alien that guy's behavior was. How I am like... the polar opposite of him. Where he does not give half a shit about how other people perceive him, to the point where I was unsure if he was even aware of other peoples' existence, let alone the effect he was having on them. But me? I am constantly concerned with how I am affecting people around me. Even in isolation! Even when I was living in a house that was 50 yards from the nearest house and my neighbors were rarely around, I would try to keep my volume at a moderate level and be mindful and courteous. Yeah, it was just completely alien to me, and I think that's the hardest part about being around people like that. No offense at all to them. I just... and I really do try, trust me... I desperately struggle to relate to them. I have no idea how a person ends up like that, or if they were always like that? And it makes me curious, and it makes me want to understand, so I can deepen my compassion. But... when people have such flagrant disregard for others... to the point where they don't seem to even really be aware of others very obviously around them... I get concerned about personal safety. And though I do feel a bit hasty and... uneducated(?) about that judgment... it does appear to be a situation that I should be cautious of. Typically, when people are showing a blatant disregard for how they are affecting others, to the point of wildly screaming in public... I mean... they are clearly displaying that they don't really care about how their behavior impacts others. So... yeah.

Though I was tossing the idea around while cooking dinner of going around and interviewing homeless people and asking them really personal questions... like "what is your favorite childhood memory", "why do you do drugs", "do you have any goals you are working towards". Shit like that. I'd love to piece together mini videos of people who are normally completely overlooked and give them a place to shine, to show that these are people too. To capture and share the humanity in people who are kinda treated a bit more like wildlife than humans. But honestly, there are some snags. One - I wouldn't really feel safe doing this alone. Not in the current anxiety state I've been in. Two - I'd feel bad about... making money from a piece like that... kinda feels like exploitation a little... and... Okay, I'm gonna say it. I might even feel worse about paying royalties to a drug addict, knowing it wouldn't be enough to turn their life around. That's a complicated one to unpack. But it's a cool idea.

So yeah, to wrap up chapter 10 of this epic novel... I spent a huge amount of time working on the grip tape. Four of the nine rings are completely done, short of a final pass. The theme has been set for the fifth, I just need to do the iterations. And every layer has a sorta... outline? Kinda? Like an inner line tracing the outline, forming a margin, kinda. I did those for every single pedal and leaf. So... of the 72 leaves... I have 33 done. And then a final pass and the mandala is done.

Again, I'm still a bit scared to skate it before I finish and photograph the detail work... but I've been taking progress pictures after ever session and I'm really glad I chose to do that. This is much less stressful than streaming, and I still have a chronical of its progression.

That was pretty much my day. I watched some more Adam Savage and I'm really glad I did. He's a very enlightened person, and likely doesn't fully realize half of it. It's wonderful. He was talking about hand-painting in the video I was watching, he was making replica armor, and was like... literally IN a flow state, talking about the flow state, while I was cleaning and polishing beads also in a flow state. XD And I was just like... "yeah, dude, why the fuck do you think I do this every day! I basically live here as much as I can!"

Yeah, I guess the only last thing I wanted to touch back on was the education bit. It was both teaching people the importance of human error and personality in art, encouraging hand-crafting and manual forms of expression... but also... entertaining the idea of just being a creative coach in general. Any discipline. Art, music, engineering, writing, dance, even sports, anything really. To help people reach their creative/making potential, and help creators and makers reconnect with their true selves. If that takes the form of a blog, or personal coaching, or videos, it ultimately doesn't matter. But I do feel a calling towards that. I have for a very long time. I guess I just need to get over my personal hangups about... qualifications... but that's way too big of a thing to unpack here tonight.

Okay, well past bed time. Huge day. Time for rest.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

Hiiii!!!! can you do like when you guys are supposed to meet up and they waited for about an hour or so and kept texting you you but you haven't replied so they thought you ditched them and got mad at you and stuff then they decided to go home and while on their way home not too far from their school they found you unconscious body with a large wound on you back and your head bleeding?.

can you pleaseease do tsukishima, yamaguchi, ushijima, bokuto (I'm sorry if that's a lot)

Haikyu Boys when you get hurt Pt 2 (Ushijima,Bokuto

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 2.6K

Genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Ushijima

You were having the worst week this week, from battling a cold and your boss making you do all sorts of extra jobs (that were definitely not under your job description.) As easter was swiftly approaching you and Ushijima had your annual plans of going to the local kids community center and helping them with an easter egg hunt. But you don’t think you can manage it this year.

Ushijima gets home from practice with 4 bags just filled with easter eggs ranging from all different sizes, “woah there Toshi, you’ve got enough there too feed all of england” you laugh

“I don’t think these eggs will be able to sustain England Y/N” he says seriously making you laugh even harder. As you were laughing, you felt another migraine come along making your cringe in pain. “Toshi, I don’t think I can do the easter egg hunt this year?”

He sits down next to you alarmed that something is wrong, “why what happened Y/N” he asks

“I’ve been feeling terrible all week, and I even have a migraine right now” you say to him thinking he would understand.

“That’s it?” he questions thinking what you said was a joke “I think you can handle a migraine, remember we’re doing this for the kids”

His words were making you feel slightly guilty since maybe you were being over dramatic. “Y/N if it’s really ‘that bad’, i’ll make you some tea so you can feel better,” he says going into the kitchen to start on your tea. You murmur a quiet “thank you” and you end up falling asleep, hoping that by the time you wake up your head stops pounding.

As you wake up, you realise you slept all the way through the night and over to the next day as when you look at your clock it says 12:32 pm. You look at your nightstand and saw that Ushijima wrote you a note saying:

Y/N I've left out early to set out the easter egg hunt, I’ve made you breakfast so eat up and get prepared for the event which starts at 4pm. Please don’t forget.

Sincerely – Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You chuckle at the fondness of the note, before realising your pain. Your brain felt like it was having a live concert inside that definitely was not going to end soon but you still got up prepared for the day. You didn’t want to let Ushijima or the kids down.

When you go to the kitchen , you see the cute breakfast that Ushijima made you consisting of all of your favourite foods and with another simple note of him saying ‘ I love you. ‘ Ushijima has always been a lovely boyfriend, treating you like the queen you are always making sure that you were okay. Of course, his bluntness and his lack of social cues was something to get used to but when you did get accustomed to it, it only made you fall in love with him more.

You got ready, feeling even more sick as the piping hot shower that you usual have, did not help as when you were showering you felt heavily faint. However, you persevered since you did not want to let Ushijima down.

You finally were prepared to leave the house, with the community center being on 15 minutes walk away you were leaving out at 3:50pm since you were planning to take your car anyways. When you leave your home, you realise that you forgot your car keys so you dash up the stairs (a bit too quickly) to go and find them. Scrambling through your draws, your head is pounding harder and harder and the more it pounds the quicker your moving making you even more faint. You eventually find your keys and you’re ready to zoom to the community center but your body gave out and you pass out tumbling down the stairs landing at your front door.

Ushijima was waiting outside of the community center waiting for you to arrive it was 4:05pm and he was wondering where you were (knowing that your place was only a 10 minute drive away) he sent you a few texts asking where you were but when you don’t respond Ushijima becomes slightly annoyed, plastering a fake smile on his face and entering the community center, starting the easter egg hunt.

The easter egg hunt came to a close at 8pm and Ushijima assumed that you would’ve showed up some time in the middle of the event, but you obviously didn’t show. After making sure that all the kids left safely Ushijima decided to call and text you more and when you continuously don’t respond and your calls go to voicemail he says ‘Y/N, im really disappointed with you right now. How could you do this to me? You said you would show up, the kids were really upset, how could you be so selfish?’

He walks to your house knocking on the door, but when you don’t immediately answer he knew something must be up now, since you haven’t responded to any of his texts and calls and didn’t show up he figured there was something deeper then you just ditching the event.

He used his key to open the door, surprised when the door hit something. He tried again hitting the ‘object’ that was laying at the door again. He carefully pushes the door to make enough room for him to fit through the gap. When he entered, he was startled at the sight of you, there you lay completely knocked out with a blood stain next to your head. He knelt down next to you and touched your cheek you were extremely cold, he had to get you to a hospital stat. He called an ambulance, panicked. Worrying about how long you’ve been out for since it would have to be atleast more than 4 hours he assumed.

You woke up in a foreign room, with your head slightly stinging. You place your hand on the back of your head and wince, then you remember you need to be at the easter egg hunt so you bolt up ready to move.

“I don’t think that’s wise for you to do that Y/N” Ushijima says to you

“Toshi, what happened?” you ask still in pain

“It seems you fell down the stairs and hit your head” after he said that all your memories come flooding back, and you remember rushing to the community centre, looking for your keys, and then falling down the stairs and everything going black.

“I’m sorry Ushi for missing the easter egg hunt, I really tried to get there,” you say with an apologetic look on your face

“It’s fine Y/N of course you wouldn’t of been able to get there after falling down the stairs” he says “Also, this is proof of why you shouldn’t run down the stairs”

You eventually get discharged with the doctor telling you all you need to do is rest and stay off your feet. Ushijima took the doctor's orders very seriously, becoming your loyal servant and waiting on you hand and foot, tending to your every need. He did also make you were eating healthy and taking all your medicine so you could have the best recovery possible.

Also, after realising that this could’ve all been avoided if Ushijima didn’t guilt trip you in the first place for having a migraine, he made sure to never ignore or dismiss when you say you are ill or have anything wrong with you even if it’s a migraine, a lost limb or a simple paper cut.

Bokuto

The Olympics were coming up and Bokuto couldn’t be any more excited than he already was. Everything he’s talked about for the past month he manages to find a way to relate to the Olympics, and as annoying as it got sometimes you were just as excited for it as much as Bokuto was.

Bokuto was heavily busy with extra practices so you were bored and lonely, since your boyfriend was at practice all the time so you chose to take up a new hobby. You decided to paint, although you weren’t an award-winning painter you still found joy in it. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend you had some slight unwanted attention on you: the usual fans of Bokuto that just followed you to have an extra aspect of him in their life's, or his fangirls that adored him.

You didn’t mind the fangirls for the most part since majority of them were pretty tamed and did fawn over your relationship. However, there was the minority of fans that did make it known to you that they DID NOT like you at all. When you started posting your paintings, it seems their hate for you amplified since they always found the need to leave an astray of mean comments on your post. But that didn’t mainly bother you since you thought that they only had that energy behind the screen.

The days went by getting closer to the Olympics, with Bokuto always asking you every day “Y/N you are coming to my games, right?” to which you always replied “Of course Kou, I’m coming” which always made him smile.

When the Olympics came, you’ve went to all the games cheering Bokuto and the team on as they were winning round after round. Whilst this was going on, the group of girls that were sending you horrible messages and making mean posts about you weren’t stopping. At first, you didn’t care for them but it seems their posts only gotten worse making comments about your artwork, your face, your body type ect.

You didn’t want to tell Bokuto as you felt that it would ruin his Olympic momentum and you thought you could handle it all on your own.

It was nearing to the final game of the Olympics, and Bokuto was ecstatic he made sure that you promised you’d be there claiming that you was his ‘good luck’ charm.’ You were excited to go too, the feeling of watching Bokuto play was exhilarating seeing him fully in his element was great for you to see.

On the last game day, Boktuo was already at the stadium since him and the team had to be there earlier to practice and you planned to meet him there just before the game started at 4:30. You went to a florist before the match getting Bokuto the biggest boquet that you could buy.

On your way to the stadium you here somebody whistle from behind you, you turn around and see a group of girls waiting behind you smirking. “Hi?” you say more like a question then a statement “do you want something from me?”

Some of them laugh, but the one standing at the front who you mentally lable the ‘main one’ steps closer to you and says “We want you to stay away from Bokuto” you realise that these were the girls sending you hate online for these past weeks.

Before you can even blink, the girls jump you, hitting, kicking and clawing at you. You are in pain, screaming and crying for them to stop and leave you alone. You lay there, letting them beat you up thinking that you’ll probably end up dead out of this. All you can think about is Bokuto, you didn’t get to wish him good luck, or give him your flowers (that you spent a fortune on) or even tell him that you loved him one last time.

You think the girls eventually stopped but you couldn’t tell because your body was throbbing and you hurt all over. You tried to get up still wanting to go to the match but you collapse going out cold.

Bokuto was scanning the crowd over and over for you, hoping to spot you there. But he couldn’t, he was wondering where you were getting sadder and sadder by the second since he really believed you were his good luck charm and he probably wouldn’t be able to win without at least seeing your face once.

They didn’t win. Bokuto knew he wasn’t playing at his best, since all his mind was on was thinking about where you were. You’ve never missed one of his games, so he was incredibly worried. After he accepted his second-place medal, he rushed out the stadium to go to your house but he was stopped by some fangirls ‘I guess signing autographs is the least I can do’ he thinks, the fans were being a bit odd today but he didn’t have time to focus on that as his mind was racing thinking about you and your whereabouts.

One of his fans did give him an alarmingly big boquet of roses which he appreciated ‘these must of cost a fortune’ he thinks. Although it was a probably a long shot, he decided to ask the fan if he saw someone who looked like *whatever you look like* to maybe see if someone else saw you. Which the fan replied “yeah I saw them with some guy at this restaurant whilst we were going to see you!” they exclaimed.

‘A guy’ he thought ‘that most likely wasn’t you.’ Seeing Bokuto’s confusion, the fan followed up with “I'm pretty sure it was her I mean we all know who Bokuto Koutaro’s girlfriend was.” Bokuto didn’t reply just walking away making sure to thank them for the flowers.

He was rushing towards your house on foot (since all the taxi’s and ubers were fully booked because of the Olympics) whilst running he stumbles across your passed out body all black and bruised with scratch marks and bleeding all over you. “what happened” he whispered, knowing you obviously weren’t going to respond.

He picked up your near-dead body, and cradled you in his arms taking you back to the stadium (since he knew that getting an ambulance to come here or running to the hospital would basically be impossible.) When he got back to the stadium, he did get odd looks from strangers but he didn’t care, his only agenda was making sure you were okay.

You woke up, and saw Bokuto pacing the room repeatedly you tried to get his attention by saying his name but your throat was damaged. He eventually notices you and runs to your side, stroking your face softly and giving you a gentle hug making sure not to hurt you.

“Who did this Y/N?” he asks with worry in his eyes

You ignore his question and look at the silver medal wrapped around his neck making you sad “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the match, I tried I really did try” you said with your voice sounding even worse after you said every word.

“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad that you’re okay babe, I was really worried about you.” he said

The Medic came in and said that you had multiple broken ribs, but beside that you were fine you just needed to rest your throat and let your bruises heal. You eventually told Bokuto that it was some of his fans, he was upset that you hid this from him for so long but he was just glad that he got to you as soon as he did. He managed to play at the next Olympics and you were there fully present, with your even bigger boquet of flowers watching win gold.

Authors Note: I tried to make it as close to your request as possible, but I hope you enjoy as I really do think this is my favourite work so far.... :3 Comments and feedback appreciated.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu scenarios #haikyu #haikyu angst #haikyu fluff #haikyu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu-fluff #haikyu x reader #ushijima imagine #ushijima oneshot #ushijima angst #ushijima x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #koutarou x reader #bokuto scenarios #signedwithane😌

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miniscule-meow · 2 years

Note

Yes you can.

I haven't decided which asks, so, "Please don't make me look up."

You can read more about Charlie and Felix: Here, Here and Here

*~*~*~

“It’s spring break next week! Are you excited?” She asks, shouldering her backpack.

“Not really.” He shrugs.

“Oh. Why not?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have any crazy plans or anything. You?” He shoves his hands into his pockets as they walk across the campus

“I don’t really have any plans yet either. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to do something together.”

“Oh, sure. What do you have in mind?” He glances over to her, knowing her she probably already has a whole plan mapped out.

“Well! I was thinking we could go camping! Have you ever been before?” She tries to gauge his reaction to the idea. He doesn’t give her much in terms of enthusiasm, but he does shake his head to let her know he’s never been on a camping trip before. “There are a few national parks and like state forests not too far from here! Staying at a campsite is relatively cheap, and I already have a ton of equipment.”

“Were you a girl scout or something?”

“No. I just like camping.” She laughs. He supposes it makes sense; her major is something like wildlife biology. “The weather is supposed to be awesome next week. Plus, it’s a great excuse to eat s’mores!” She grins over at him with pleading eyes.

“I do like s’mores,” He nods. “Sounds like it could be fun.”

“Awesome, I can’t wait! I’m so excited!” He grins as she does a little happy dance. They continue their way through the courtyard before having to go their separate ways for their next classes.

The week flies by, and soon the day approaches. They load up in Charlie’s truck, and a few hours later they are settled in at their campsite. He spends the day following her down hiking trails. She stops frequently to point out cool plants, to inspect fallen logs, and to doodle mushrooms and flowers in her journal. It’s cool seeing her in her element like this. That night, they do have s’mores, as promised.

Later that night, they’re in their respective sleeping bags in the tent, fast asleep. There’s a rustle and a clatter outside in the middle of the night, waking them both up.

“Oh shoot.”

“What’s going on?” He mumbles, barely coherent.

“I think we might have left some food out. That’s probably just a racoon or something. I’ll go scare it off.” She whispers, grabbing her flashlight and exiting the tent. “Get out of here ya trash panda! Go- oh!”

He hears something out there that sounds an awful lot bigger than a racoon. He bolts from the tent and finds Charlie’s flashlight illuminating a large bear. It's the largest creature he's ever seen, well. Aside from himself. The bear roars. Panicked, he practically tackles Charlie to yank her out of the way of the charging animal. In a matter of seconds, he’s up to his full gigantic height, shifting Charlie in his arms until she’s cradled safely in his palm. A flock of birds are disturbed from all of the nearby trees and the now frightened bear quickly scampers off into the woods.

He laughs nervously once the danger is passed. “That was crazy! You could have died just then. We both could have died. Gah, I might throw up! Oh gosh. No, sorry. I’m freaking out right now. That’s probably not very comforting. I’m fine. We didn’t die. We didn’t even get mauled. So that’s great." He realizes he was rambling and clears his throat. "Anyway... how are you holding up?” He unfurls his fingers, and finds her curled up into a little ball, pressing herself into his palm. That’s not what he was expecting to find. “Uh. Charlie?”

Without shifting much, she holds out her arm and gives him a shaky thumbs up. He frowns, pulling her up closer to his face. She responds by curling in tighter on herself. “Did that bear freak you out? I was really starting to think you weren’t afraid of anything.” He jokes, in an attempt to lighten the mood. He only gets more concerned when she doesn’t shoot back with a snarky comment like he was expecting.

“Earth to Charlie? Hey. You’re alright. You’re safe. I’ve got you, the bear’s gone. He’s probably gone off to tell all his bear friends about the crazy human he found in the woods toda- Oh.” He stills, a realization setting in. “Am I scaring you?” He takes his free hand, and gently brushes an index finger against her arm. “Charlie… could you look at me, please?”

“Please just... Please don’t make me look up right now.” Her voice quivers as she speaks.

“I really didn’t mean to scare you. I mean, I probably should have asked before just grabbing you like that but … there was a bear… I mean you saw that. So. Uh. I was just trying to…” He starts tripping over his words. Trying to explain, trying to apologize.

“No. That’s – I’m not afraid of you, Felix. Chill. I don’t think you could scare me if you tried.” The argument would be very strong, except she’s still curled up into a fetal position, trembling in his hand. Her voice is muffled by his palm because she refuses to sit up and look at him. He raises an eyebrow. “What you did was really cool, absolutely saved my life. I just. I’m... I think i might be afraid of heights? That's something I discovered about myself right now. So.” He jolts with the realization that he’s holding her 40 feet off the ground right now, if not higher.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t even think about that.” Quickly he drops to his knees, wincing and mumbling an apology as she lets out a startled shriek, scrambling for purchase in her palm. He lowers her to the ground.

“Have we landed?” She says after he’s still for a moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re good.”

Now she looks up. He expects her to scramble off of his palm as fast as possible, and dash away from him. She looks around, making sure they’re on the ground again before flopping over onto her back and staring up at him with a huff. She doesn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with being held in his hand. It was really just the height thing. Interesting.

“That was seriously like the tower of terror, dude. Oh gosh.”

“The drop in tower of terror is like… twice as tall.”

“What?”

“Sorry. That doesn’t matter, I get the point. I guess I should have lowered you down a bit slower than that.”

“I don’t think you could have done that any faster.”

“Sorry. I um… I don’t have a lot of experience holding people like this.” They look at each other for a moment. “This isn’t… particularly comfortable for me.” He says, his arm cramping from the awkward way he’s holding it. “If I stay sitting like this, do you think I could … not keep my hand on the ground?” She looks around, considering it for a moment before tentatively nodding. “I won’t drop you or anything. I promise.”

“I didn’t think you would I just…” She shrugs, not knowing how to articulate the rest of this thought.

He moves slowly this time, keeping her as steady as possible as he shifts to lean back against a tree. He raises her gently to his chest. She stiffens but doesn’t seem to be freaking out this time. She sits and leans against him.

He thinks about how his heartbeat must be completely audible to her. She could probably even feel it pulse through her with the way she is leaning against him. And then when he speaks, do the vibrations of his voice surround her as well? What must that feel like to her? Is it relaxing? Exciting? Scary but she just won't admit it? He's never had a person so close to him before. He blushes thinking about it. Then he remembers the part about how she can hear his heartbeat, and he tries to think about something else. He doesn't want his racing heart to give him away.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.” He says casually, thankful that his thoughts don't get louder at this size too.

“Neither did I.”

They stay up chatting a bit, still ruffled from all the excitement. They are illuminated by the stars and the dying embers of their fire, surrounded by the gentle rustling of leaves and the songs of the first cicadas of the season. Eventually, they crawl back into their sleeping bags and go back to sleep.

#Felix and Charlie #g/t #size shifting #size shifter #size shifters #gt stories #g/t community #g/t writing #g/t story #giant tiny #tiny #gt #my writing #giant #thank you for the prompt! this was fun to write (even though i had to re-write the whole thing with my computer deciding to delete it)

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sirthisisa-wendys · 2 years

Text

Queen of Diamonds (Chapter 14): Kisaki Tetta x Fem!Reader

created by: @thehypestdeano and @sirthisisa-wendys

synopsis: returning home from this vacation requires a substantial celebration.

wc: 1.3k

tw: fluff

previous chapter 👑 masterlist 👑 next chapter

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"Can't wait to be home."

The words are whispered between your fevered drinks, the desperate glances outside of the window, and the too-short naps that are filled with twitching at every sound and shake of the jet plane. Hanma watches as you slowly unravel as the hours get longer and you're nearly frantic, wondering how much longer every forty-five minutes.

"Hey," he whispers, pulling you out of your pacing around with a firm hand. "Come sit next to me." You obey, if only to be doing something, and sit next to him.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and kisses your forehead tenderly, silently reassuring you that it wouldn't be much longer. You lean into his chest and sigh, feeling some of the weight of worrying drop off your back.

"Here," Hanma mutters, handing you his drink. "Haven't sipped it yet, but it's something to take the edge off." You look at the brown liquid briefly, but you toss it back anyway, praying with each gulp that you'd be able to bear the length of the rest of the trip.

But after a few minutes, you feel your eyelids growing heavy, and for a brief second, you wonder if the drink was just that strong or if... if...

_____________________________________________________________

"Wake up, sleepyhead." The drowsy feeling is still with you when you peel yourself off of Hanma's arm, but when you open your eyes fully, you see the jet has descended below the clouds. "Almost home. We have about fifteen minutes."

"I slept for three hours?" you wonder, and Hanma nods, raising his brows.

"You knocked out pretty fast, too."

"Did you drug me?" Hanma shakes his head, chuckling.

"Whiskey seems to make you sleepy, little lightweight." You shift up in your seat and fix your hair, rubbing your face while the jet descends even further. "Now, remember," Shuji begins. "Ask the boss to give me a raise after you've had sex, okay? I want him to be in the best mood--"

"Hanma!" You shove him lightly, and he laughs but sobers up quickly as you prepare for landing. He touches your hand, smoothing his fingers over yours before bringing them up to his face and kissing each hand tenderly.

"I enjoyed our time together," Hanma murmurs. "I know I will be forgotten as soon as you step off this plane, so I wanted to let you know before we landed. Who knows when I will get the pleasure of pleasuring you again?" You smooth a hand over his cheek, then kiss it with as much love as you can muster.

"I had so much fun with you. You're not half bad, Shuji Hanma."

"I know," he smiles. "Actually, I'm not at all bad. Minor correction for you, princess." The wheels hit the tarmac, and Shuji's head snaps up as the jet rocks back and forth rapidly before coming to a full stop. As soon as the lights come on in the cabin, Hanma stands up, moving to grab the bags from the overhead bins.

And as you move to anxiously await the opening of the door, he stands there with your things, trying to put himself in Kisaki's shoes.

But he can't.

Not only can he not imagine having a beautiful and loving wife, but he can't imagine being stuck inside of a starched suit for 70% of the day. Hanma laughs to himself as you shout your greeting to your husband - which is simply a squealed "Babe!" - and thinks... no, he wouldn't want to be in Kisaki's shoes.

He had to spend almost a whole month without you.

And Hanma doesn't think he could do that. He's not as strong as Kisaki is; not in the slightest.

_____________________________________________________________

"And we went to the beach," you whisper, knee-deep in your tale about your vacation and showing off your trophies of things you did. "Hanma took me to the marketplace afterward, and look at what we found!" Tetta fingers each and every item you pull out of your suitcase with appreciation while the maid puts away your clothing, silent as ever.

"Did you like it there?" Tetta wonders and you look up at him, head resting in his lap while he watches the sunlight dance off the shiny back of a shell.

"I loved it there; we need to go back for our next vacation," you muse, smiling to yourself. When you look back over at Kisaki, you notice the way he looks so perfectly put together. You don't know what you were expecting when you saw him on the tarmac, but the sight of him, seeming so normal and unaffected, brought you nearly to tears. And you thought your lips would go numb just from kissing his face so much, but when you pulled away each time, you found your lips were quite fine.

And for the past two hours, Tetta's been listening to you, being as attentive as possible as you ramble about the fun you had on this trip, despite him not being by your side to enjoy the scenery.

"And I got you this," you murmur, sitting up to reach over and grab a white box. You hand it to him and he looks at you curiously before he opens the package, staring at the item in shock.

"This is beautiful," he whispers, and you pull the timepiece out of the box, intending on wrapping it around his wrist. "Where did you find it?"

"Market," you chirp. "Hanma helped me find it." Kisaki is obviously enamored with the way the watch doesn't tick, but the second-hand rolls around the face, with the gears and other accouterment showing through the other side. "Now you can always say 'my wife got this for me' when you go to the office and make obvious glances at it." Tetta pulls you into an unexpected kiss, pressing his lips firmly against yours. When he pulls back, you giggle as he shakes his head.

"No one's ever gotten me something this grand before. Thank you, sweetheart." You're about to wave off his thanks, but he interrupts you. "I got you something as well." He slides off the bed and you follow suit, walking out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He takes you into the living room and motions to something covered by a black cloth on the other side of the room. "Go ahead and see what it is." You look back at him and smile, biting your lower lip before approaching the gift.

At first, you wonder what such a big item was doing placed neatly in the nook where a half-empty bookcase used to be, but as you get closer, you smell the distinct scent of wood and something... something more antique. But when your fingers pull at the black cloth covering, you immediately know what's beneath it.

"Tetta, you didn't!" you shout, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. But Kisaki grins sheepishly as you reveal the record player nestled inside a stereo set large enough to fill the room with sound.

"Hanma told me that you like to slow dance to old songs... so I bought it for you and you could collect old records and... and maybe we could slow dance to whatever you want."

You examine the machine, then straighten up, seeing a small stack of records already nestled in the ample storage space. You flip through each record, seeing familiar names like "Tchaikovsky", "Saint-Saens", "Satie", and "Bechet".

"Tetta," you whisper, turning back to him. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," he breathes, and you hold the records close to your chest as you sit on the floor. "This... I wanted to do all of this for you."

"I missed you so much," you murmur, and Kisaki joins you, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"I missed you just as much, maybe more. But I'll make up for the time we lost," he promises. "I'll make up every second and much, much more." He pulls you in for another, softer kiss, holding you in the waning light of the sun.

_____________________________________________________________

taglist: @hana-patata @xbabybajix @tjjjrsj @shvjis @saltmaki @roxxiies @ravenina14 @aasouthteranoswife @tirzamisu

#tetta kisaki #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #kisaki tetta x reader #kisaki tetta #tetta kisaki x reader #hanma shuji #shuji hanma

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deexchanel · 3 years

Text

Vacation

Word Count:

Pairing: Avengers x BlackFem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, A tipsy reader, Fluff maybe?

Summary: the avengers finally have a break off from avenging the world. The first place they go for vacation? Maui Hawaii.

A/N: You guys liking my content means a lot💜💜. when writing one-shots why don't people put oufits? i wanna see wtf i be wearing since im y/n!😂 I got some long faux locs in my hairrr sooo ykk i had to put it in here🙂

Y/N stood in the kitchen pouring coconut rum into a drink that she found a recipe for on google. It was called a mermaid cocktail and it looked like something she could get away with, without any of her family members saying something. "I'm so ready to drink this, it looks so good." She mumbled stirring the rum mixture.

She is 23 years old but the team still treats her like a little kid. As of right now, everyone was taking a nap from their huge lunch. All those missions they work was eventually stressing them out so Y/N took it upon herself to plan a vacation for them. She rented out a huge beach house for them. Best idea everr!!

Seeing the smiles on their face made her feel so content with her main priorities being happy. "What are you making?" Loki's voice said from behind her. Y/N gave him a big toothy grin. "Oh, nothingggg!"

"You're up to no good, I know you are." Loki raised an eyebrow at her turquoise-looking drink. "I'm not going to even ask." He sat down at the island, shaking his head. Y/N could feel something was off with him. She put the pitcher in the refrigerator, then sat beside him in the chair.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm thinking Y/N."

"About? We're on vacation Loki, we can think when we're back at the tower doing boring missions." Y/N stared at his jet black hair, having the urge to run her fingers through it.

"No, you can't touch my hair." Loki knew exactly what she was thinking. Y/N pout her bottom lip, squinting her eyes. "That's not what I was going to do. Anyway, what are you thinking about?"

"I feel out of place. I just know they are still mad with me from the events of New York." Loki buries his face in his hands. "I want to go back to Asgard, I know they'll rather want me there than here."

Y/N removed his hands."What makes you think that Loki? If none of wanted you here then I wouldn't have told you about this trip. " She giggled making him let a small smile creep on his face. "You're right where you belong and if anyone isn't happy about you being here then just know that Thor and I are ecstatic to have you here. I'm glad you came, means a lot to me."

"Means a lot to know that you want me here Y/N." Loki's small smile went to a big one. Y/N slowly moved her hand to his hair. He watched her slow movement in amusement "No Y/N." She huff playfully giving up.

"Fine, I'll try another time but I'm happy that I made you smile. You're way easier than Bucky's serious ass. Now that's out the way, it's hot girl summer so no sadness from no oneee!!" Y/N exaggerated getting out of the chair going back over to the refrigerator. She pulled out that now cold pitcher, chugging down the concoction.

"Did I hear Y/N say something about a hot girl summer?" Steve rubbed his eyes while he walked downstairs. Y/N rubbed her mouth from the leftover drink on her lips. Steve furrowed his eyebrows at the now half-empty pitcher. "What's that?"

"Nothing! Don't even stick your nose in it." Y/N put the pitcher back. Steve looked at Loki who just shrugged his shoulders with confusion still written on his face. Y/N placed a rushed kiss on their cheek so they wouldn't smell the amount of alcohol she just consumed. "I'm going to get ready so we can go to the beach. Steve wake everyone up for me please so we can leave in the next 30 minutes."

"Okay Y/N," Steve replied ready to question her but she was already up the stairs. 20 minutes later Y/N had music blasting from the speakers while she ready. From that consumption of alcohol, it kicked in about 10 minutes after she got ready. She was only tipsy, maybe. Y/N couldn't focus because she kept giggling at everything.

"Damn why is everything so funny!" Y/N said getting mad at herself. Her long black faux locs flowed down her back after she struggled to place them in a high ponytail. Meaning she broke 3 hair ties and gave the hell up.

"Y/N we're waiting on you!" Tony yelled up the stairs but Y/N waved him off. She grabbed her purse, pausing the music. Tripping over her feet a bit, she made her way downstairs. Bucky caught a glimpse and instantly spoke up.

"Oh hell no Y/N. Go change."

She waved him off too, purposely ignoring him. "I'm readyyyy". Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to agree with Barnes. Y/N that isn't a swimsuit, that's two pieces of cloths."

Thor smiled, "I like it Y/N and since I like it, we can leave." He picked up a beach chair but everyone yelled no in protest except Natasha. Thor rolled his eyes sitting the chair down. Loki moved her hair aside, closing the white and blue shirt that she wore.

"Now you need a hair thingy to keep it close."Y/N smacked his hand away lightly, going over to the kitchen to find some chips. "Y/N why aren't you saying anything?" Bucky followed still upset about her outfit.

"Her outfit is fine guys. Let's go because you guys are over exaggerating." Natasha placed her shades on her face. "I got your back Y/N!"

"It's not fine, she's showing too much," Steve said being overprotective. Still not phased, Y/N nodded her head from the kitchen. " That's why you my bitch, thank you!" Everyone was shocked by her choice of words. Bucky grabbed her waist.

"Y/N are you drunk?"

Y/N giggled,"A lady never drinks, she sipssss." She dragged out the s, kissing his nose. Bucky pressed his lips together, getting his answer.

"Guys she's drunk!"

Groans went around the room. Steve was in realization,"Ohhh so that was what she was drinking when I came downstairs earlier."

------

"And it's hard to keep my cool

When other bitches tryna get with my dude and

When other chickens tryna get in my coop

'Cause you're a one in a million

There ain't no man like you"

Y/N belt out the lyrics to Streets for the 13th time while Bucky held her in his arms while they were in the ocean. They had been at the beach for 30 minutes, and a biker went by playing that song in her speakers. Y/N haven't let go of the song since.

"Y/N if you sing the same lyrics one more time, I swear I'm going to drop you." Bucky scolded while she gripped his shoulder tighter. Y/N placed her head on his chest, the sun was getting rid of her drunkness. She was tired since she didn't take a nap like everyone else plus Bucky's heartbeat and the sound of the oceans was calming her down. "Sorry! It's stuck in my mind."

Steve, Tony, Loki, and Thor played on the beach with water guns. Natasha laid in the sun, getting a tan. Per Y/N's request, Bucky was in the water holding Y/N close. She was surprised that he even agreed to it.

"Bucky?"

"Yes Y/N?"

"I'm tired."

"I figured, let's get you out the water." Bucky turned around to walk back to the shore. Y/N just snuggled more to his chest. "Bucky?"

Bucky’s voice held slight annoyance, thinking she was playing."What is it Y/N?"

"I'm glad you came on this trip, I know this past year had been so hard on you and I thought this trip would help ease your mind. Plus I got to know you better, that’s a bonus.”

“Yeah at first, I didn’t want to come but I couldn’t turn down seeing you in a bikini.” Bucky laughed making Y/N laugh as well hitting his chest lightly. “Bucky!”

“What? I’m being honest. I just rather for only my eyes to see.”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“You going to have to get used to it. But for real though, this trip made me not think about things that's been haunting my mind. Coming on here was the best idea.”

“I’m glad I could help with that.” She tapped his shoulder for him to stop. He placed Y/N on her feet. “I’ve come up with the best plan though.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “What’s the plan?”

——

Y/N made herself sink underwater. Bucky waited a couple seconds before putting on his best acting voice. “Guys! Guys! Y/N she’s drowning!” Natasha stood at the shore, looking out at the water in concern. The team wasted no time running in the water.

“What?!?”

“What happened??!?”

“Oh god, Y/N?!”

“Shit!”

Steve was Y/N's victim, he hunched over in her area of the water. Bucky pulled at the ends of his hair keeping the act going. “She was doing alright until I couldn’t hear her anymore.” Y/N lurched up grabbing Steve by the neck, pulling him in the water.

Bucky's face of distress turned into humor. “Steve she got you good!” Both Y/N and Steve appeared out of the water. Y/N was laughing so hard she was clutching her stomach. Loki found it amusing while Tony, Steve, and Thor didn’t.

“That was a good one Y/N.”

“Don’t listen to Loki Y/N. You had us worried!”Thor huffed and Steve nodded his head in agreement.

“Yeah! I thought something really happened to you.”

“I’m sorry guys.” Y/N snorted trying to contain her laughter. “It’s not my fault, it’s Bucky. He came up with the idea. You guys should’ve seen Steve’s face when I came out of the water.”

Steve mocked her laugh, “Ha Ha Ha. It’s not funny.” Bucky held his hand in defense trying not to laugh as well. “It’s not mine! This was all her idea.”

“Capsicle is right, it’s not funny. Don’t scare me like that again.” Tony scolded her, he held out his arms. “Now come give me a hug so I can feel better.” Y/N gave him a hug, that humorous smile not leaving her face. When she tried to pull away, Tony held a grip. She realized.

“TONY!”

He laughed leaning forward and they both fell in the water. Soon it turned into a big splashing war between everyone, they were having so much fun.

————————-

At 7:28 p.m. both Y/N and Bucky walked back to the beach for dinner. The restaurant they chose for tonight’s dinner was there. Since Y/N is over the planning for the vacation and Bucky is attached to her hip, they were at dinner first.

“I know the wait is going to be minute so sit down while I talk to the hostess.” She reassured him. Bucky looked at her kind of worried because he wasn’t comfortable with crowds yet. She squeezed his hand, “You’re okay.”

Bucky nodded his head reluctantly. Y/N walked off to make sure this restaurant gave them a private table away from the crowd, preferably on the beach. After about 10 minutes of talking, something just told her to turn around. It was some woman that looked around Y/N’s age steadily talking to Bucky even though he looked so uncomfortable.

“Hold on one sec.” Y/N held a finger-walking away, not even waiting on the hostess's response. Y/N quiet appearance kinda scared them both. “Excuse me. Hi!”

The woman looked at Y/N with attitude. “Um, why are you speaking to me?”

Y/N took a deep breath to calm down. “ I’m speaking to you because you’re talking to my boyfriend and you obviously see him uncomfortable.” It was for the sake of the moment. Bucky and Y/N aren’t together, just a few flirts here and there. But since Y/N knew this bitch couldn’t take a hint she said, boyfriend.

“You might have him confused for”

Y/N cut her off, “No I don’t have him confused for no one. That’s my boyfriend so get your desperate ass out of his face before I embarrass you in front of everyone. We don’t want that do we? Now walk away miss.”

The woman turned her nose up walking away without saying another word. Once she was out of sight, Bucky visibly relaxed. “Thank you so much Y/N. She wouldn’t stop talking and my a-anxiety was getting bad because I didn’t know her and...” He shook his leg. Y/N sat beside him giving him a hug.

“Hey hey calm down, it’s okay now. I could see she made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t going to stand there and let her continue to do that.”

“Thank you Y/N.”

“Anything for you Bucky.” Y/N kissed his forehead then she stood up, holding out her hand. “Now let’s go get this table because I did cut the hostess off coming to help you.”

Bucky laughed grabbing her hand. As they walked back over to the stand, realization hit Bucky. He smirked.

“So I’m your boyfriend now?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, “No Bucky, it was in the heat of the moment.”

“What if I was to ask you out?”

“In your dreams Bucky.”

————

This took longer to write then what it supposed to be.

Hope you guys like it 🥰, I was trying to include a Loki moment because I’m starting to like him more.

Stay slutty my friendsss!

#marvel #bucky barnes fluff #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x poc!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #loki (marvel)#loki laufeyson #natasha romanoff #loki x black!reader #thor x black!reader #tony stark x black!reader #steve rogers x poc!reader #loki x you

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supernovafics · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change.

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x fem!reader #dylan o'brien gifs

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

Text

Hanahaki disease - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu

*-*

Peter's known for a long time that he was in love with Tony. Since he was seven, and Ironman saved his life. Since he came home to Tony Stark on his couch, talking with his aunt.

Since the trip to Germany, and everything else leading up to now. The more time he spent with the older man, the more in love with him he became.

Peter never really thought he'd be the one to get sick. He thought he'd been immune. He's had crushes before, been in unrequited love before, and he never got sick.

But with Tony, it came on so suddenly. One day he was fine, and then the next, blue petals were in his sink after a coughing fit.

He'd been so shocked he'd stumbled back and almost hit his head on the bathroom door.

That was six months ago, and its not gotten better. He's been lucky enough to hide it from everyone.

With May's long hours at the hospital and his school's wacky scheduling, and the Avengers keeping Peter on the outskirts, its easy to hide the blue flowers.

He's read stories about people with the disease getting better on their own, or even learning to live with it for the rest of their lives.

He's also read about it killing people.

But he can't tell Tony how he feels. He just can't. Tony thinks of Peter as a kid. Plus, while the age difference doesn't bother Peter at all, it might bother Tony.

The man was old enough to be his dad anyway. So Peter decided to hide the flower petals. For as long as he could.

"Hey, Pete, you getting the popcorn or what?" Clint calls from the living room. Peter coughs again, hunched over the trashcan beside the kitchen island.

"Yeah!" He shouts, coughing again. He reaches into his mouth, picking the petals off his tongue before straightening. He glances down at the trash, covered in wet, wilty petals and feels his stomach roll.

He quickly grabs a bunch of paper towel, throwing them into the trash to cover them, then pushing it all down as far as it'd go.

After a second, he grabs the two bowls of popcorn and makes his way back into the living room.

"Sorry, I had to melt the butter," he excused, handing one bowl off to Clint -who would be sharing with Nat, Bruce and Steve.

Peter handed the other bowl off to Sam, who was in reach of Tony, Thor, Bucky and Peter.

"What are we watching again?" Peter asked, clearing his throat. It was always worse when Peter was around Tony.

"Halloween," Sam said, smirking over at Peter.

"Its August," Peter exclaims.

"Yeah, and we were going to watch A Walk To Remember but Tony doesn't do chick flicks, and the grandparents haven't seen it yet."

"Hey, Tony hasnt seen it either," Steve yelped, waving a hand at Tony, sitting at the corner of the couch, beside Sam.

Peter tried not to think about how close they'd be if Sam and him just switched places.

"That's because Halloween is a terrible series."

"It not!" Peter can't help interjecting. "Its right up there with Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13th."

"How do you even know what those movies are?" Clint asks, laughing on the other couch.

"I watch old movies," Peter shrugged, feeling the familiar sense of self-consciousness creep into his chest, tickling at his lungs.

"Old!" Tony barked. "Kid, the 80s aren't old."

Peter forces himself to laugh and shrug and make a joke about hanging out with people twice his age, and the conversation moves on.

But it just reminds Peter that Tony would never see him as an equal because of his age. There was no way he'd ever accept that Peter loved him. Or would love him back.

The movie plays, and Peter chews handfuls of popcorn to keep from coughing up a lung.

Bucky and Steve are on the edge of their seats, fully invested in the corny horror film when Tony starts coughing.

Everyone glances over in concern, but the man just waves his hand, mouth pressed into his elbow.

"Pop-corn-" he chokes out between coughs.

"You're supposed to chew it," Nat laughs. Peter tries not to outwardly show how worried he is when Tony's face grows red, the coughing so bad he has to get up and make his way to his bedroom down the hallway.

Everyone returns to watching the movie, but Peter can't help but wonder if Tony's okay, especially when he doesn't come back right away.

"Uh, I gotta take a leak," Peter lies, climbing to his feet.

"Thanks for sharing, little man," Sam huffed. Peter doesn't say anything else,just makes his way down the hallway.

Tony's bedroom is all the way at the end. The only people who live in the penthouse with him are Steve and Bucky, and Wanda and Vision -though they're out on a date for the night.

He passes the bathroom door, and his frown deepens when he hears Tony hacking in his bedroom.

He keeps light on his toes, reaching the bedroom door that's not all the way closed, and pushes it open just a little.

"Ton-" the sight before him cuts him off, and he ducks back a little, worried maybe the older man might've seen him.

He feels his chest tighten at the sight. Tony, leaned over with a bedside trash can between his knees, coughing up little pink flowers.

Peter's eyes widen when the man spits a glob of blood into the basket before continuing to cough.

Tears burn at Peter's eyes and he quickly backs up, rushing down the hallway and past the living room.

"Hey, where you going? Where's the fire?"

"I-I gotta go home aunt May- uh, I gotta go she wants me home," Peter shouts, snatching up his keys and phone on the way out.

He's in the elevator, and he can't stop the sobs from tightening his throat.

Tony's sick. Tony's in love with someone who doesn't love him back. Tony's in love with someone and its not Peter.

Be chokes on tears and petals all the way to the main floor, shoves the petals into his pocket and runs from the building.

He knew his love was unrequited. He knew there was no chance, but to see Tony so in love with someone else -it was like digging a knife into his heart and twisting.

He makes it to his bedroom and buries his face into his pillow, muffling his crying so May won't hear when she gets home. Hopefully she'll think hes still at the tower and won't check on him until the morning.

He cries himself to sleep, eyes gritty and heavy.

*-*

"Hey, kid, how's patrolling going?"

Peter jolts at the sudden sound of Tony's voice in his ear, momentarily forgetting he has a connection to the tower now. New upgrades.

"Uh, good," Peter huffed, swinging from building to building. "Stopped a mugging, and helped a couple people with the parking meters."

Tony chuckles over the coms. "You gotta stop showing people the coin on tape trick."

Peter can't help but smile through his mask. He clears his throat when he feels the familiar tickle at the back of his throat.

"Fuck capitalism, Mr. Stark," he says.

"You do know capitolism is kind of my job?"

"Its not," Peter countered. "I mean, it relied heavily on it in the beginning -what with the weapons and war profiteering- but you've come a long way! Sustainable energy and you're even recycling!"

Tony chuckles again, and Peter has a moment to regret his words -Tomy probably thinks he's just a dumb kid- before a coughing fit hits him out of nowhere.

It's so bad, Peter loses his momentum and drops onto a rough of a small cafe. Hes on his hands and knees, crawling from the edge of the roof as he coughs and hacks.

"Pete, you okay? What's wrong?" Comes Tony's worried voice.

Peter feels the petals coating his mouth with nowhere to go and frantically tugs on his mask. He's choking, suffocating.

He rips the mask off and heaves a mess of petals and blood onto the gravel roof.

Its never been this bad. Panic grips his chest when he coughs and wretches more than he can get a breath in. He's suffocating.

Tears burn his eyes as he struck less desperately to take a breath. Just one breath.

His head begins to spin, chest heaving and he drops from his knees to his hips, legs curled off to the side as he holds himself up with shaky arms.

There's so much blood and petals, Peter doesn't know where its all coming from.

He's too busy dying to notice the suit of armor that drops onto the roof, or that Tony's suddenly rushing towards him.

"Jesus, kid!" He breathed.

Peter lets out a sob, blood and petals continuing to fall from his mouth. His stomach hurts from the heaving, his chest from lack of oxygen.

Tony grabs him by the arms, pulling him forward until he's away from the pile of bile, blood and blue wilting flowers, nearly cradling him in his arms.

"Its alright, you're okay, you're gonna be okay," Tony repeated, rocking Peter while he continued to cough and sob.

He shakes his head, even as exhaustion and lack of air flow has his eyelids drooping, body settling further into Tony's hold.

When he wakes up again, he's in a hospital bed. Theres an iv in the back of his hand, and a tube running down his throat from his nose.

He swallows around it and has to fight back panic at the strange feeling.

There's a heart monitor on his index finger, and a few on his chest -which is bare.

Peter moves shaky hands to the blanket and pulls it up just enough to see. Someone had taken his suit off, leaving him in his red boxers.

He blushes at that. Who had taken his suit off? Damn, he hoped it wasn't Clint or Sam.

He drops the blanket just as the door opens. He looks up to see Tony step inside and he wants the bed to swallow him whole.

"Hey, kid," he greeted, shutting the door behind him and making his way towards Peter's bed. "You had us all pretty worried."

Peter drops his eyes to the itchy white hospital sheet, picking at a loose thread and not saying anything. What was there to say?

Tony sighs as he settles down into the chair beside the bed.

"Your aunt May is in the middle of a shift, but she'll be stopping by when she's got a break to check up on you."

"Okay," Peter barely manages to murmur.

"The doctors had to pump your lungs," Tony continued. "But its not a cure, Pete. They'll come back."

Tears burn at his eyes and he quickly brushes them away, sniffling as he does so.

"I know," he said. "Its alright, I'm okay."

"Peter," Tony sighs, grabbing Peter's hand. He looks up then, seeing the concern in the older man's eyes. "You're not okay, you're really sick."

"People live with it all the time," Peter brushed off.

"Who is it?"

"What?" Peter asked, heart monitor matching his fast pulse.

"Who is it? How long have you been like this?"

and it must be because Peter is tired -exhausted and drained and so sick of being sick- because fresh tears bloom and he pulls his hand from Tony's.

"Long time," is all he can say as he presses his palms into his eyes, rubbing at the tears.

"Who," Tony presses.

Fuck it, Peter thinks. He's already dying, he's already humiliated. Why not just confess?

"You," he says, pulling his hands from his face. "I've-I've been in love with you for- for years."

He can't handle the shocked look that filters through Tony's features, so he looks down at the iv in his hand, lower lip trembling.

"And I know you don't think of me that way," he continues. "I know, so its okay, I'm fine, I'll get over it or, or get the surgery or something-"

"Peter," Tony interrupts, moving from the chair to the side of the bed. He grabs both sides of Peter's jaw, forcing him to look up at Tony. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," he says on a wet breath. "Because you've always thought of me as a kid. You- I'm still just a kid to you, and thats okay, Mr. Stark, I'm-"

Tony's eyebrows furrow as Peter has to stop talking. He's getting to the point where he's babbling, not understandable.

"I don't think of you as a kid," Tony says.

"Yes, you do," Peter huffed, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "You do, and thats okay, I promise, I've live this long with it, I'm okay."

"Has it always been that bad?"

Peter shakes his head.

"What made it worse?"

Peter's showing his hand already, he might as well expose the card up his sleeve too.

"I saw you," he murmured. "During the movie. You're sick too. I didn't mean to, I was just- checking to make sure you were okay but-"

"Peter, sweetheart," Tony interrupted, and Peter looked up at him, realizing suddenly the man's eyes are watering a little.

"I'm sick because of you."

Peter feels like someone punched the air from his lungs, and he blinks up at Tony, eyebrows drawing close as he tries to process what Tony's said.

"What?" He asks feebly. A small smile pulls at the corner of Tony's mouth and he leans forward, kissing Peter softly on the mouth.

It's a simple kiss, but it sucks the air from Peter's lungs.

"We're really bad at communicating, kid," Tony chuckled wetly, their noses brushing. Peter can't help but sniffle a laugh as well, his hands moving to grip the front of Tony's shirt.

"M'not a kid," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against Tony's. The older's hands are still cradling his face, thumbs brushing against his wet cheeks.

"No, you're not," Tony agreed.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #ironman #spiderman #starker #ao3 #my writing #sfsummerbingo21

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