#been working through some sketches to color and this was a blast :) i have many things i want to learn but i had fun!! and thats great | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robinette-green · 1 year

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I never got around to writing the story but I do have an honest to god fnaf animatronic self insert.

This is Fey. She runs the Star Dome at the top of the Pizza Plex.

5’2”

Glows under black light

Has up to date knowledge of the solar system so she can provide fun facts during the shows.

Has fruity, star shaped hard candies that have pop rocks on the inside for a fizzy burst. (Think Zotz)

The Star Dome is an enormous, round room that is made entirely of screens. (Looks like one big screen but it’s many)

Rides in a UFO shaped control panel above the patrons heads

Some times the screens short circuit and electrocute guests (that’s covered in the waver)

The star dome has one or two video games programmed into it;’s system because it was originally going to be like VR gaming without the head sets but FazBear scrapped that idea in favor of a planetarium style attraction.

Fey is really good at the shooter game on the Dome’s system. (Uses it to get out frustration) ((this means she’s also killer at Fazer blast))

I had this whole plot line sketched out where Moon and Fey start off on the wrong foot and a prank war ensues. Eventually Fey steals Moon’s head and they end up entangled in the ball pit. Feelings are realized and they start avoiding each other until Sun’s decided enough is enough and locks them in a closet together. ((Sun and Fey have had a little romance going on through this whole thing))

The pranks:

Fey tweaks the fly motor so it goes just slightly to fast (Runs Moon into a play structure)

Moon scare Fey in the dark

Call me mr. Chuckles on a note taped to Moon’s back

Moon paints a face on Fey’s helmet

Fey swaps the Sundrops and Moondrops so the kids are hyperactive through nap time (she regrets this)

Moon restates the volume for the star dome too loud and sticks it there (just a bit too uncomfortable) ((he regrets this))

Stolen hat (chase ensues)

And below the cut is the small snippet that I did write out. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually pick this back up.

The star dome opened around a month ago in The Faz bear pizza plex. They situated it up on the 3rd floor by mazersize. Going through the doors, you enter a new world. The curved walls are all screens, and holograms are projected from several small devices hidden around the room. Everything working together to transport you into the depths of space, with stars and planets at your fingertips.

I was created to run the attraction from a little control deck that hangs from the ceiling disguised as a spaceship. I was humanoid in shape but only stood just over five feet tall. They had given me large, round eyes, short hair that was neon blue, and antennae with a cute little ball at the end of each stock. I was dressed in a purple jumpsuit, bright pink space boots, a neon green, fuzzy half coat, and a bubble space helmet. The helmet I only ever wore for guests, taking it off as soon as the closing announcement sounded.

Once parts and services had finished putting me together and powdered me on, they ran a few tests to ensure all of the data I needed had been properly uploaded and set me to work. The only reason that I had met the main four was because they came to greet me after hours on my first day.

Freddy had wanted to know if I was settling in alright and made me promise to come to him if I needed help with anything at all. Chica brought me some vibrantly colored cupcakes, even though I can't eat, and asked if I wanted to have a sleepover with her and Roxie sometime soon. Roxie brought me a signed photo and informed me that she would soon be my favorite. I met Monty last because he was standing at the back of the pack, and he just gave me a head nod when he was introduced, saying nothing.

Every night from that point forward, one or more of the four would come up to the dome once we were closed and ask if I wanted to hang out. I enjoyed chica's maze and racing on the raceway. I could get a few holes-in-one on the mini golf course, but my favorite thing was fazerblast. In every game we played, I was always the winner. No contest. I could even defeat Freddy himself. Being small was a definite advantage, and I was faster than everyone except Roxy. Luckily the others didn't get upset that I always won. They would either team up against me or try to take the number two spot, knowing they couldn't beat me.

I had been active for about a month when I finally asked about the Sun and Moon-themed characters on the walls in the prize hall. Out of sight, out of mind. I had meant to ask when I first saw them, space kinda being my forte, but we were just running through to get to the East arcade at the time, and I quickly forgot.

Chica and I were going through some new prizes that Faz had released. There were some new mermaid Chica plushies and some space toys that we wanted to get our hands on.

"I keep forgetting to ask. Who are these two clowns? I've never seen them around, but their pictures are scattered around the plex." Chica was elbows deep in a box of stuffed toys, sorting through the new merch.

"That's Sun and Moon. They run the daycare. Sun's a sweetie, but he hates leaving the daycare, and Moon's a bit of a grouch. He's around but would rather hang out in dark corners and spy on the goings-on than hang out."

I leaned against the counter, arms folded, and looked at the Yellow character on the far wall. That must be Sun. I scoffed

"Very creative names. We have a daycare?"

"Yeah! It's huge! It's connected to kid's cove, but the main entrance is in the lobby across from Faz pad."

"Ahh. Never been to the lobby… never had a reason to go down there."

"Well, that's why you've never seen them! You should go visit! They love getting visitors! Well, Sun does."

"Yeah… I think I will."

__________

I made my way down to the daycare the next night. Getting to meet two other animatronics that were also space themed? Yes, please!

The sign for the daycare on the lobby landing was small, but I was able to spot it easily. Pushing through the doors, I found myself in a dark hallway with a minor water feature and a much larger advertisement for the daycare painted on the brick wall.

"This is nice." Maybe I would come back here to think. It was quiet, and the water feature cooled the air nicely. Very relaxing atmosphere.

Once the daycare security gate lifted, I was bombarded with a happy preppy song playing over the overhead speaker. Everything was bright and colorful in this upper lobby. Walking further in, I noticed the slide in the far wall. A sign over the top read 'slid into fun!'

"Oh, cute!" The slide went straight into a ball pit in the daycare below. As fun as that looked, I didn't want my first impression to be fumbling around in a ball pit.

Vaulting over the partition, I made my way down the upper hallway, peering into the party rooms as I went. The murals painted on the walls were cute, but the rooms felt small and claustrophobic. Past the palm tree lights and down the stairs, I walked up to the set of massive wooden doors.

"Well… here we go." I pushed open the doors. It was enormous! Three play structures towered in the middle of the room, and colored mats covered the floors.

If my eyes could sparkle with amazement, they would be… maybe they were. I hadn't looked at my own schematics, and no one had bothered to tell me all of my functions. Only the ones that were important to my job had been explained to me, and even then, I still needed to figure out how everything worked on my own.

"Hooo! Hoo! Hoo!" Someone was on the balcony in the far wall. They jumped.

"NO-!" There was a splash of balls as the individual dove into the ball pit below. I sprinted across the playmats to look down into the ball pit for any sign of the animatronic. Were they okay? They have to be damaged from a fall from that height!

"Hello?"

"Heeeellooo!" I fell backward as balls exploded from the pit, a yellow animatronic bursting from the brightly colored balls.

"New friend! You're sure up late!" Coming over the bridge from the ball pit, he towered over me, yellow rays spinning. This guy had to be at least 7 feet tall, definitely taller than the main four.

"…Sun?" I asked timidity from where I was now sitting on the floor.

"Hoo! Ho! You have me at a disadvantage, friend!" Sun grabbed my hand and pulled me upright. There was a second where I was hanging in the air, tiptoes barely brushing the ground before I was set down. He held my hand momentarily to ensure I was steady before letting me go.

"I'm Fey. It's nice to meet you!" This large gangly individual still towered over me even while I was standing. I was used to the band's height, so it wasn't unnerving, but I hadn't expected him to be this tall. Taking a second to look him over, I thought it looked like that fall hadn't hurt him in any visible way.

"Fey. Are you new to the plex?"

#glitter rock #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf fanfic #fnaf oc #fnaf self insert #glitter rock writing #glitter rock art #fey #fnaf security breach

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iamwesselart · 2 years

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Good morning friend!

I’ve been taking a lot of big steps internally as of late…so many fears and anxieties that have built up, times have been…rough…but, one of the big ones is minting…publishing, pushing out the work I do…I think I got into the mindset that everything I have to do has to be scheduled and established, weekly monthly daily ahhh, rules to be confined to. The idea of build of via marketing, building momentum, all the ideas that I though would work for me, when I forgot that the things that had given me my momentum was just me throwing out whatever whenever was on my head, the daily breathing in and out of art that I do…these new ‘good ideas and routines’ for minting and marketing just never seemed to work. Build ups have been endless fizzles…so, fuck it, more stream of mind again. Lean into the wind that is me… and I’ve got a lot of stuff to catch up on.

In the past I minted endlessly the daily projects I did, the relaxing doodles, the fun sketches, the bits of color beneath the surface of trying to be perfect, fit a mold. Then…I stopped…I think it might have been my systems overload project on KO that switched a bunch of habits in my head…I mean, 14 weeks straight of scheduled drops, 9 different collaborators, Spaces, being featured on the markets big Drops twice, and always hitting their front page, 4k views, building a metaverse gallery custom built by a friend, but…kind of a wet firecracker overall biz wise. Some collectors but, felt like a giant shrug. Everyone who came to the set loved it, people who collaborated had a blast, but…I don’t know, felt too staged, something felt right but also very wrong…

So, I’m gonna succumb to the creative wtf nots and see what happens for a while. I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface of a lot, and if I go back to something that worked both creatively and internally…chaos of just swimming in it all…

And that’s why minting these instead of just endlessly thinking about it until it begins a nasty weight in the back of my head and letting it be the joy that it should be is important to me :)

Now I just gotta keep doing this and hope it works Lolol.

The pieces are each bit and pieces of ideas floating through my head, colors just the vibes I feel for the day. Automatic drawing practice the basic s curves, c curves, and straight lines, trying to make shapes I find visually pleasing. Relaxing my mind by just popping it all out there in the code that is my colors lines shapes, whatnot, lol. There’s a dialogue that goes on in my head as these come out, but those are for me alone, lol. Fun thing is that these seem to be an evolution of some practices and similar outpourings years ago that I did with different sized colored boxes which I lined up into interesting grids n stuff…have to find a pic of those somewhere(found)

So, if you like what you see check out the pieces on Teia and see what’s going on my Tezos storyline :)

all 1/1

15tez each

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sesskagevents · 2 years

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SessKag Fandom Appreciation Week - Day 6

Artist interviews - Elevenharbor

@elevenharbor was nominated by @animehusbandno1

What was your first introduction to SessKag?

Tales from the House of the Moon by Resmiranda.

How long have you been a part of the fandom?

been a lurker since the early days of HotM (~'04). Only recently became active in the community (Discord, Tumblr & other sites) since May 2020, around the time the sequel-from-hell was announced. I was so mad, confused and had all kinds of mixed feelings about the whole thing, and one internet search led to the other. The rest is history.

What is your writing/art process like?

Unconventional. I get inspired primarily by listening to music, which turn into plunnies, which then turn into wanting to write a story. I then outline in my head and also create a kind of mental music playlist for each scene/part, and if the compulsion is strong enough, I jot it all down on Scrivener/Google Docs. I also have a growing art/writing playlist that I just blast and play on loop while I'm immersed in my work. I know I am not well-versed with words and storytelling in general so oftentimes I try to illustrate instead. I daydream of creating webtoon/comic strips from said plunny that I want to showcase, but I get frustrated with the lengthy process (and my limited skills in my arsenal) so I just pick a scene and draw that. Then the rest is just going through the motions (rough sketch, make separate folders for each character, line art, base color, shading, endless layering, and final effects). Lately I've been adding the original song that inspired me to the final art piece, so I utilize instagram/Tiktok for these and post there first. Each art piece actually has a backstory to it. Sometimes I'll write a snippet if I have the energy to wrestle with words, but most times, I let the art & song speak for itself.

If you could let your fans know one thing, what would it be?

I am very shy, hypercritical of my stuff and I think it's never good enough (Impostor Syndrome is strong, but I am a work in progress), but know that I really do appreciate each like, each comment, each reblog, and each interaction I have with others in the fandom. Cherry on top is when others feel moved/inspired enough to create something of their own based on what I've made. It really makes my day.

Do you have anything you're working on right now that the fandom can look forward to?

I have many WIPs. Even more plunnies. More recently I have a Squid Game-inspired piece and a SessKag cyberpunk piece that I started, but I'm focusing on my mental health and dealing with IRL stuff at the moment.

Since when do you ship Sesskag?

Since 2004, roughly.

What got you into that ship?

Like many others, Tales from the House of the Moon by Resmiranda was my gateway drug and I never looked back. Despite the critiques, I think it's one of the most iconic and well-written SessKag stories out there and I still love it to this day. It's also one of the fanfics that leave me emotionally spent by the end. I love angst, and I love stories that really make me think and read between the lines.

Where do you get inspiration from?

songs, primarily. I'm almost always listening to music. Tiktok has been my recent source of music/art inspo lately too!

What’s your favorite fanfic?

I have too many, but here are some of them right off the bat: HotM by Resmiranda, Beside You in Time & Once and Future Taiyoukai by RosieB, Flowers on the Moon by troubleinshangrila, When Comes the Rain by Drosselmeyer, Binded by Lucy Morningstar, Running Up That Hill by TheHatterTheory...and this is barely scratching the surface. Thank you for the nomination! <3

#SessKag #sesskag fandom appreciation week 2021 #skfa2021 #skfa artist interview #skfa2021d6

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divine-mistake · 3 years

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The Cracks in Our Reality (2)

Summary: Loki hates the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower because she’s too loud and too sarcastic and too kind and too soft, especially to him, who really doesn’t deserve it.

Characters: Loki/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), language, mentions of sex

A/N: Thanks for reading! You guys have been so incredible with your support on JUST the first chapter! I won't leave you hanging. Updates weekly on Saturday.

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist | AO3 | Playlist

“You’re incredible. A life saver. A genuine Mother Teresa. God is a woman.”

You wave him off, draining the last of the tea from your to-go cup.

“You know, if you keep talking like that, you’re just going to fuel my god complex.”

Mike from Accounting grins at this, shuffling the paperwork you handed off to him only moments before. It was sloppily done, the forms filled out in a hurry as soon as the accounting department called you. They were always having problems with the books—half of that was Tony’s outrageous spending, the other half was the neverending damages the Avengers kept ringing up on the metaphorical receipt.

You didn’t even work in finance, but someone had to get the job done, and who better to do it than the Executive Manager of the Tower?

“Well, I don’t know about this god complex, but can I buy you another coffee for your trouble?”

Mike’s cute. He’s slim, brunet, has glasses that sit a little crooked on his nose. You bet he’s just a little kinky in the bedroom. Like, doggy style is his flavor, and maybe a slap or two on the ass in the throes of passion. He’s cute, but he’s not that cute, and it’s not like he’s asking you on a date or anything.

You flash him your Signature Smile. “I really shouldn’t have any more caffeine, but thanks for the offer. You don’t owe me anything.”

Then, you slide off his desk, heels clacking on the ugly tiling that covers the accounting department’s floor. With a shimmy, you adjust your pencil skirt from where it’s ridden up your thighs, hands fluttering down your silk dress shirt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. Then, you twirl around to look back at him.

He leans his elbow on his desk, chin in his palm, as he looks over you. “Next time then.”

You give him a mock salute. “Have a good rest of your day!” Then you’re strutting off toward the elevator, content to head back up to your office and get the rest of your work down.

From behind you, Mike from Accounting shouts, “Thanks again!”

The elevator shuts, already on its way back up.

It’s nothing new, really. The bouncing around, the extra work, the pulling overtime to get someone else’s work done for them when they’re overwhelmed. The hurried finance forms aren’t anything new—and in a month or two, Mike from Accounting will be calling you again, asking for you to redo the forms that someone else fucked up.

It’s what you’re paid to do. Kinda.

By the time the elevator doors are opening to the main floor, you’re already swiping through the schedules for the week on your tablet. A thread of annoyance is tugging at the back of your neck, a twinge of pain in your muscles from being too tense, too stressed. Your feet are already killing you, toes squished in the stylish heels you decided to wear last minute because you swore you’d be cooped up in your office all day reorganizing the schedules and making room for the press conference.

The press conference for stupid Loki Odinson, whose doing his community service as a probationary Avenger. Stupid fucking Tony Stark, who didn’t tell you that Loki Odinson, the God who tried to take over New York, was coming to stay at the Tower. Stupid fucking Steve Rogers, who tried to tell a little white lie about “forgetting” to mention it. Hah! You’d whipped his ass for that last night, giving him The Look until he finally broke and told you the truth—that Tony made him agree to not tell you.

Oh, and you’d put Tony on blast for that, too. The conversation ended with him promising you a day trip to the spa and a shopping spree for all his bullshit, not that you’d be accepting it. You really just liked to watch him sweat.

And stupid fucking Bucky Barnes for still being away on his solo mission.

Okay, but really you’re pissed at Loki because you’d tried to be nice to him and bring him dinner after you noticed he hadn’t eaten, and you brought him some extra blankets because Thor told you about his whole heritage deal and you don’t really know anything about frost giants, but maybe Loki doesn’t like being cold like a frost giant. And the motherfucker had the audacity to pull a knife on you. You’re sure he hates you because you most certainly hate him.

You stop in the middle of the hallway, finger pressed against the screen of your tablet. Everything around you is quiet. The common room is empty and the sanctuary that is your office is only a few more steps away. The light of day spreads through the Tower, spilling out from the floor-to-ceiling windows and making everything warm. You shiver despite it.

You don’t hate Loki Odinson.

He’s an asshole, sure, but from what you’ve heard from Thor, the dude hasn’t had it easy. And you know, somewhere deep down, you should be a little more gentle with him. He’s not the first person to pull a knife on you when you’ve sneaked up on them. You’re used to that.

You should know better than to bark back at a caged animal.

As soon as you enter your office, you kick your heels off underneath your desk and slouch into the comfort of your leather chair. Despite the temperature, your fingers are cold and stiff—they ache slightly when you pick up a pen to sketch out the new schedules. You lean your head back and groan.

Every time you cross-check someone’s schedule with another, you curse Tony’s name. By the time you have three sticky notes on your free hand reminding you of appointments that need to be moved around, you’re calling him unsavory names that don’t make any sense when spoken aloud, but they sure make you feel better.

Natasha comes knocking just as you’re mumbling about Tony’s lifelike resemblance to the stale ends of sliced bread, and when you look up to greet her, your desk is covered in a sea of brightly-colored notes with varying degrees of importance, noted by the multiple—or lack thereof—exclamation points on each.

“Hey,” you greet with a sigh.

She leans over your desk and reaches for your face. You flinch until she rips something off your cheek, the barest hint of a burn as the sticky note you’d somehow lost a few minutes ago pulls your peach fuzz.

“Hey,” she mimics, reading the note. “Looks like I’m not having that photoshoot on the 8th.”

“Don’t get me started!” you whine, snatching the reminder back. Thanks to the sticky notes still attached to your fingers, you don’t get enough traction to yank it back, but Natasha takes pity on you and smacks it onto a free surface.

But it’s enough to make her laugh, and that fact puts a smile back on your face.

“You scheduled the press conference already?” she asks, grabbing one of the plastic chairs Steve made you keep in your office after he came to have lunch with you once and had to stand while chowing down on his salad.

“Of course.” You huff, peeling your fingers free. “Now I’m just dealing with the damages. Mr. I’m-So-Great-I-Can-Do-No-Wrong-Stark needed it scheduled pronto, something about Fury and a compromise and ‘the trust of the citizens.’”

Natasha nods, eyes scanning over some of the reminders. “I didn’t realize schedules were so damn complicated.”

“It’s why they pay me the big bucks,” you joke, hands threading through your hair to pull it away from your face. The gentle tug on your scalp feels soothing. “It’s overly complicated because there’s so many of you, and I have to cross-reference everything to make sure nothing clashes, plus mission scheduling, and all of you have routines that I take into account.”

She whistles, and it flips a switch in your brain.

“I’m not complaining,” you say quickly. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not even hard. I just have to spend the rest of today making some calls to move everything around and then the schedules will be right again. It’s easy.”

“ Zaika,” she calls gently. Natasha is only ever gentle when the two of you are behind closed doors. “It’s not an easy job. That’s why Tony hired you—you’re the best there is at this stuff.”

You shrug at the red-head. “I’m decent at it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You’re the only one who ever goes above and beyond to take care of us, y’know.”

“Well you should be taken care of. You’re always taking care of humanity or doing whatever else you Russian spies do.”

She cracks a grin at that and you can’t help but do the same.

“Damn straight.” As you pull up a list of press contacts to start calling, Natasha looks down at her watch. “It’s past lunchtime and I bet you haven’t eaten yet,” she says with a knowing glance. You have enough decency to pretend like you don’t know what she’s talking about.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nattie?” You bat your eyes at her.

“No way, we’re going dutch.”

“Dutch is a date.”

“No, it’s not, and if you’re going dutch on your dates you need to tell me who the hell is taking you out because I want to speak to them.”

With a flick of your wrist, you toss a couple of takeout menus across the desk to her. “Chill out. It’s not like I’ve been on a real date in the past—”

The shrill bell tones of your phone interrupt you and your knees clatter painfully into your desk as you jump from the sound. You lunge for where it’s hidden under a thick binder full of finance notes you used earlier, pressing it to your ear immediately.

And once again, you’re lost in the whirlwind of your job.

As the man on the other side rants about some minuscule problem he’s having with an upcoming interview scheduled for Sam Wilson—something about a security issue, and now you’re dreading broaching the topic of changing the date—you vaguely gesture at Natasha to leave. It’s unlikely you’ll be taking a lunch break today.

She gives you the Evil Eye, the look where she purses her lips like an irritated mother and draws her eyebrows together in a way that screams about you being irresponsible. In the end, she stands and starts to head out the door, but not before turning to give you one last disappointed glare.

Natasha points two fingers to her eyes and flicks them in your direction: I’m watching you.

Then she’s gone, closing your office door behind you, leaving you to put your phone on speaker so you can massage your aching temples where a headache is beginning to bloom.

It’s one in the morning and you’re shoveling the boiling hot ramen you just microwaved down your gullet like a starved man, standing in the darkness of the kitchen to hide your shameful dinner when the lights flicker on overhead and suddenly, you’re frozen. Your eyes must be bugging out of your head when you look at whoever just caught you slurping up the remnants of the first meal you’ve had in hours.

And of course, it’s the blond-haired blue-eyed babe of a God who strides in, looking nothing but chipper until he sees you leaned against the counter, dressed only in a frumpy t-shirt and threadbare pajama shorts, feet bare and cold. To top it off, you know there is soup on your chin. You just know it.

“My lady!” he booms and you wince, hoping he doesn’t wake the whole ass tower up with his projection. “Why did you not join us all for dinner earlier? Stark provided pizza!”

You shrug, hiding your face in your bowl of noodles. “I was busy, and even if I wasn’t, you know I’m not a fan of pizza.”

He frowns and it looks so funny on his normally cheery face, almost like it pains him to say what he’s about to say. He takes a step toward you.

“My lady,” he says lowly, “I do not know anything of the sort. Anyone who claims to not love the grand Midgardian pizza is either lying, or they are my enemy.”

You snort. “I don’t like Pop-Tarts either and you know that, too.”

Thor shakes his head, slaps his big hand upon his big chest, and buckles his knees like a dramatic fool. His other hand reaches out for your forearm as if he’s begging for you to save him from whatever untimely death he’s experiencing at your pickiness.

“Treason!” he shouts. “Lying to your king!”

You pull your arm away from him to shove another forkful of ramen into your awaiting mouth.

“Not my king,” you mumble, snickering under your breath. Thor wouldn’t understand that reference even if you tried to explain American politics to him.

When Thor finally decides enough is enough and whatever brought him into the kitchen is more important than annoying you, he passes by you and heads to the pantry. You can hear the crinkling of a foil package before he turns back to face you, and low and behold, there are three packages of Pop-Tarts in his grip.

Like the true king he is, he offers you a pack, giving you the most exaggerated eye roll in history when you shake your head at him.

It’s a comfortable silence that occupies the kitchen while you both chow down. You don’t speak to each other, don’t look at one another, just enjoy the company and the orchestra of chewing and slurping and the gentle sounds of the tower at night. By the time you’ve finished off your bowl, placing it into the sink quietly, Thor’s demolished his snack and is brushing crumbs from his comfy red sweatshirt.

You waggle your fingers at him in a half-hearted wave, but Thor grabs your hand in his own. His palm engulfs yours. You swallow back whatever words seemed to think they could slither out from between your lips as you look at how gently he cradles you.

When you look up at him, his eyes are soft.

“I am sorry,” he says as if you should know what he means.

“For what?”

His gaze turns to the floor, almost ashamed. “For Loki.”

“Oh, Thor.” You don’t hesitate to pull your hand away from his in order to wrap your arms around his neck, stretching up on your tiptoes. “You don’t have to be sorry for your brother. He has to apologize for himself. It’s not your fault.”

He had felt terrible when you told him what happened the other night, although you definitely left key parts out of the story you recounted to him. Thor had apologized then, too, even with the absence of the dagger in the story, but you told him you understood what Loki must be feeling right now, that you understood he needed time to warm up. Unwillingly, Thor accepted that you were letting the incident slide, but really, what were you going to do? Get Loki chained up again? Cut off his magic?

Yeah, ‘cause that would totally help him mesh with the cool kids.

After a long moment, you feel Thor’s arms tighten around your waist, hands pressing into the small of your back as he bends to accommodate your height. Or maybe it’s to get closer to you, to press further into you. Like the soft puppy he is, you stroke the back of his head, nails scratching over his scalp lightly.

“He’s better than this,” Thor whispers. “I want him to be better than this.”

You think about all the things you could say, but none of them sound right. The soft-hearted side of you says to tell him that everyone deserves second and third and fourth chances, that he and Loki both have their issues they need to work on if they ever want to work on their relationship. The jaded side of you says that no one gets second chances in this world. Second chances only open the door to a second betrayal—a second chance to be hurt. Chances never bring change.

“He needs time,” you finally say, but you don’t know if you believe your own words. “You both need time to heal.”

It’s not the first time someone’s pulled a knife on you before, and you know better, but you aren’t sure if you know for better or for worse.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @poetic-fiasco @suffocatinglypositive @melancholic-metanoia @lucywrites02 @delightfulheartdream @its-bucky-barnes-bitch @mochminnie @httpjazel @sciamachy-after-dusk @girl-obsessed-with-things

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki love #avengers loki #plus size reader #redemption loki #loki fanfic #the cracks in our reality #loki pov #loki series #thanks for supporting me!

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glitterge1pen · 3 years

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You Only Water Plants With Cool Water

Rukawa Kaede x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 1,435

reader is a painter

Rukawa and you both had practice. Studio sessions, gym time, he needed to go to the store for new basketball shoes, you needed new paper or canvas. He knew when you had had a bad day. When every stroke of pigment was wrong, when you had to change water too many times. You knew when he had messed up his scoring percentages, or when he’d landed a shot not to his liking.

You also had good days though. Ones where you would be electrified, dragging Rukawa to the tiny bedroom studio in the apartment, excited to show him a new piece. He tried to be subtle about sharing his smaller successes with you. Quietly asking to go on a walk to the park on weekend mornings, picking up a basketball before heading out the door.

While Rukawa couldn't exactly understand painting, or art, he did understand you. He saw how hard you worked, the same as him. You too were striving for something. So he lets you ramble on about new art books you had bought, different painters you admired, ones you hated, an art supplies store you wanted to try your luck at. This was also how you understood him. You saw how at home Rukawa watched all the NBA games, kept tabs on different players.

The two of your respective passions consumed lots of your life. Which is why he didn't mind when you had the door to the studio closed when he got home from the gym. You didn't bother him when he was watching a game. He would sleep on the small couch you had tucked in the corner of the studio, the radio giving a play by play of some game. Legs hanging off the arm rest, simply enjoying being in your presence. Some days you would go to his practices, half watching, half sketching out ideas for a new chunk of canvas. This was one of those days.

Looking up from your lap you see that practice is almost over. You set aside your work to focus on Rukawa completely. He really is something else on the court. Brash, aggressive, and still sly. Those parts of Rukawa were the same. The part of him that bluntly told you while out shopping what did look ugly, that way you swore he moved stuff around in the fridge to mess with you, or how he shoulder checked people a little too often. When he was playing basketball it was like the various gears and screws that made up Rukawa were perfectly made to play, like it was the only that life made sense to him. It added something to his outward psyche, a fire of energy that exuded from every pore.

You watch as the team starts to wind down. Shooting from various points on the court, running sprints from one side to the other, to end practice there was a complicated passing drill that you couldn't follow. You were prepared to leave, grab some take out on the way home, but when Rukawa came over to you he flopped onto the bleachers.

“Hey! Come on you can't sleep here”

With a sweat towel covering his face he mumbles,

“I can sleep anywhere, just give me a couple minutes”

But you know with Rukawa that a couple minutes can range from thirty minutes to hours. You pull on his arm trying to get him up, his eyes are stubbornly closed though. You poke, you blow air on his nose, you ruffle his hair and pull on his clothes. When that doesn't work you try threats.

“I won't pay for dinner”

“I was going to pay”

He says, words muffled by the towel. Exasperated you sit back onto the cold bleachers. You reach into a plastic bag you have settled down by your feet. It's from the craft store, new paint, new brushes, you had stopped there on the way to see Rukawa. Cautiously you pull out some paint and let it rest against Rukawa's skin.

“If you don't get up, I’m gonna paint you”

“I dont care”

“Really?”

“Why would I care?”

Before you two had been playful, teasing, but when he asks that he is genuine. Like he couldn't possibly comprehend why that would bother anyone. He has one eye open now, peaking at you, seeing that you are considering it now.

“I don't care, go ahead, just let me sleep”

At first you're still a little apprehensive. You are slow to fill up one of the paper cups from the players bench with the water fountain. You use the colors little by little. Mixing them in the palm of your non dominant hand. You start with his arm. The paint moves differently on his sweat tinted skin and you have to adjust.

Rukawa floats in and out of sleep. Lazily watching your concentrated expression move expertly over him. He likes the way the brushes feel, the cool of the paint. He notes that you're holding his hand differently, it's deliberate, your fingers not laced with his but clasping onto him. You do this so you can twist his arm this way and that. He can see blues and greens mixed onto your own skin in puddles. Then he’s back asleep.

You are no longer paying attention to Rukawa, or the dance group that came to use the gym for practice. You like working here. The gym lights are bright, the AC blasting cold air. You were originally only going to do something small. But now Rukawa's entire right arm has been consumed by paint. You are putting the last few strokes of detail on his arm knowing that you aren't done yet. You are afraid to dab at the paint to see if its dry, you blow on it and Rukawa gives a small smile at the sensation.

You pull the towel off of Rukawa’s head and lay it over his chest, placing his arm there too. You grab your bag of supplies and move to the row of bleachers below Rukawa. His left leg your new target. This is harder for Rukawa to sit through at first. The bristles of the brush more ticklish, but it is soon calming once again. He wants to see what you’ve painted on his arm but his eyes are still so heavy, he so tired.

“Wow you're really good!”

“Thanks! He’s a pretty good canvas!”

Rukawa wakes at the sound of your voice.

“Oh sorry I didn't mean to wake you!”

It must be one of the girls from that dance team he decides.

“It’s okay he sleeps plenty”

You tell the girl, she laughs a little before waving herself away. You're packing up your things, swirling brushes into the cup of water, twisting paint tubes closed. Finally feeling satisfied with his nap, Rukawa slowly gets up. Used to sleeping wherever he pleases the dull ache from the bleachers doesn't bother him much. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and sees it.

You've painted a river. From his right shoulder to his left ankle is a river. Patches of grass and flowers growing along parts of it, stones, clouds, waterfalls, waves of water. It’s dynamic, twisting over the grooves of his muscles. You are surprised at how gentle his fingers move along the outline of the water, tracing it down his whole arm. In between his knuckles the water fades off his hand in droplets. The red flowers a bold contrast to the cool colors of the water. Fish leaping in and out of the water, some not even breaking the blue surface of paint, shadows of warm color beneath the water.

“You like it?”

You ask, he only nods, still admiring your work. You get him off the bleachers, once standing the daze he was in wears off. He grabs his duffle bag and the two of you head out. The night air is refreshing, the sky dark blue but bright like how it is in the summer. The street is still buzzing from the dusk. People on the way home from work, light traffic in the street, store and street lights flickering in the newness of the night.

“I’m sorry”

“Huh?”

You don't know what Rukawa could possibly be apologizing for.

“I’m gonna have to take a shower and the paint will wash off”

“That’s okay I knew that when I did it”

Rukawa seems discontent with this answer but you aren't sure how to help ease him. At the next block Rukawa turns the wrong way.

“Where are you going the-”

“Walgreens”

“What?”

“They have disposable cameras at Walgreens.”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

A/N: If someone made a bingo chart of my writing Walgreens would be on it. Will post this on ao3 later today :) Also no :) I did not :) edit this :)

#kaede rukawa #slam dunk #slam dunk x reader #Kaede Rukawa x reader #gender neutral reader #painter au

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tyrantisterror · 3 years

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THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE SAFE! YOU THOUGHT THAT THE TIME OF MONSTERS WAS AT AN END! BUT YOU WERE WRONG, FOR NOW YOU MUST WITNESS…

THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

That’s right, it’s back! Celebrating the publication of The Atomic Time of Monsters Volume 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth! (which in turn completes The Ballad of Tyrantis arc for this series), I’m holding another monster design jam. The third of such jams, in fact!

Like the first A.T.O.M. Create a Kaiju Contest, the aim of this contest is to create kaiju that would fit within the setting of my big kaiju story series, The Atomic Time of Monsters. Think of it as me letting you into my sandbox to play with my toys for a bit, or like you’re being put in the director’s chair of a new ATOM-verse kaiju movie. That means your entry does have to fit into ATOM’s world, which in turn means that yes, there are limitations to your creativity here. But limitations can be good sometimes - they can make us explore options we wouldn’t consider when given completely free rein to do what we want!

(also you don’t have to make a three dimensional image or anything, the title’s just a pun on how the third movie in a monster movie franchise will often be a 3-D film)

Read below the cut to learn the rules and whatnot:

THE RULES:

1. You are limited to one entry per person. Work hard and make your entry count!

2. Your kaiju must have some sort of description of its physical appearance and its personality - you can submit a drawing or a written description (or both!) for the physical appearance depending on what you’re most comfortable with. Using the same template/format as my official ATOM Kaiju Files (https://horrorflora.com/monster-menageries/atom-kaiju-files/) isn’t required, but it was cool when people did it in the last contest, so feel free to do so this time too!

3. The kaiju you create must specifically be created for this contest - no repurposing characters you made for other, wildly different stories. This is not “trick TT into drawing/canonizing my main OC” time.

4. The kaiju must fit the setting and aesthetics of ATOM. I’ll explain this in more detail down below.

5. The kaiju should add something meaningful to the world of ATOM. The more unique and interesting your kaiju is, the more likely you will win the contest.

6. Don’t make your kaiju too dependent on pre-existing ATOM characters - no “Tyrantis’s long lost evil brother who’s the strongest kaiju in the world.” These should be to Tyrantis’s story what War of the Gargantuas is to Godzilla’s movies – heroes (well, monsters) of another story in the same world.

THE REWARDS:

I will make pencil sketches of the top 5 entries in the contest.

I will then make fully rendered illustrations (lineart, colors, & shading) of the top three entries.

The winning entry will be made into a model ala the ones I’ve been making for ATOM’s core 50 monsters, which can then be shipped to the person who created it (should they be able to cover the shipping costs). That’s right, your kaiju could be brought to life in THREE GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR DIMENSIONS! (Hey, we worked the gag title in to the prizes!)

THE DEADLINE: All entries must be submitted by July 3rd, 2021. You can submit it here on tumblr, via the horror flora e-mail, or any other channel you know how to reach me through. I’m in a lot of places.

THE GUIDELINES (TO HELP YOUR ENTRY FIT THE RULES AND WIN):

The smartest thing you could do if you want to win this contest is familiarize yourself with the world of ATOM by, y’know, reading all the material I’ve published on the subject. In addition to the many kaiju files that are free to read on horrorflora.com, there are now TWO, count ‘em, TWO novels in this series for you to peruse, both of which establish many of the rules of the setting as well as its general themes and tone! You can get them in either paperback or e-book formatting (I’d recommend the former over the latter since I lack the technology to make a really nice ebook, but if money is an object, the kindle version is only $1). Here’s the links again if you missed them:

Vol. 1: Tyrantis Walks Among Us!

Vol. 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth!

However, since I know reading a bunch of stuff is, y’know, not something everyone is inclined to do, I’ll jot some good bullet points for you in an attempt to outline how ATOM works in a brief, easily digested way:

ATOM is an homage to the monster fiction of the 1950’s and 60’s (i.e. the Atomic Age), and is set in those two decades, albeit an alternate universe version of them where, y’know, monsters and space aliens exist. If you aren’t familiar with the monster fiction I’m referring to, there will be some reference material provided at the end of this post along with some recommendations for further research.

Kaiju/giant monsters in ATOM work under very specific rules. There’s a full description of those rules at this link, but here’s the jist:

ATOM Kaiju are created created by the radiation of a mineral called Yamaneon, which naturally converts harmful radiation into its own unique energy. In natural circumstances, it takes hundreds of years of exposure to Yamaneon radiation for a creature to become fully transform into a kaiju (luckily, Yamaneon radiation slows the aging process while speeding up the healing process). However, an explosive burst of energy - such as the geothermal and kinetic energy released by an earthquake, or the blast of a nuclear weapon - can speed up the process, turning a normal animal into a kaiju within a matter of seconds.

All ATOM kaiju can heal grievous wounds within minutes or even seconds, are supernaturally strong and durable, and can convert harmful radiation to harmless energy that they then feed off of. Kaiju do not have an equivalent of old age, and can theoretically live forever (though their violent lifestyle means that few do).

ATOM Kaiju generally don’t need to eat unless they are severely injured, getting most of the energy they need from solar or geothermal radiation - but many still have instincts that drive them to seek out food from time to time.

Most ATOM kaiju stand roughly 100 feet tall (depending on their body shape), i.e. smaller than the original 1954 Godzilla. There are exceptions to this rule - younger kaiju can be smaller, while exceedingly old kaiju can be significantly larger, but these are rare.

In general, ATOM kaiju are significantly more intelligent and emotionally complex than people expect animals to be, though most are incapable of speech or complex tool use. There’s a reason ATOM Kaiju Files have a “personality” section.

Most ATOM Kaiju are tooth and claw fighters - ranged weapons are a rarity in this setting.

While the terrestrial monsters in ATOM look strange, they are intended to fit within the taxonomy of animals in reality - reptiles, mammals, fish, arthropods, molluscs, etc.

ATOM’s mesozoic era was dominated by a fictional clade of crocodile-relatives called retrosaurs, which are based on the outdated paleoart that one would find in the 1950’s/60’s fiction - i.e. when dinosaurs were viewed as trail dragging lizards instead of strange birds. You can learn more about retrosaurs here (https://horrorflora.com/2016/11/15/atom-kaiju-file-bonus-a-guide-to-retrosaurs/).

Kaiju appear on every continent in ATOM, but certain areas tend to be dominated by different types.

North America is mainly besieged by retrosaur kaiju and giant arthropods.

East Asia is technically also mainly plagued by retrosaurs and big arthropods, though they tend to look more fantastical and mythic - and, often, oddly well suited to being portrayed by a person wearing a monster suit.

Russia is beset by prehistoric monsters that seem to come from the Cenozoic, particularly the Ice Age.

Western Europe is plagued by creatures that vaguely resemble creatures from myth, if they were also prehistoric. Dragon-y lizards, fiery birds, etc.

Towards the mid-way point of ATOM’s timeline, earth is invaded by a coalition of aliens from different solar systems called the Beyonder Alliance, and as a result a bunch of alien monsters can be found on earth.

Mars and Venus both host (or hosted in Mars’s case) animal life. The surviving Martians colonized Venus, and sent some of their kaiju guardians to earth to help us fend off the Beyonders (who are responsible for the destruction of Mars’s ecosystem). Martian and Venusian kaiju have specific anatomical quirks, which you can see by looking at these kaiju files:

Venusians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/03/atom-kaiju-file-29-karamtor/

Martians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-39-kemlasulla/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-40-podritak/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-41-sombarvot/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-38-ullawdra/

Giant robots exist in ATOM, but are big, bulky, and incredibly expensive. Fancy beam weapons also exist, but are similarly clunky - there are no sleek, elegant machines in ATOM.

Since the fiction ATOM takes inspiration from was made at a time when interplanetary travel was only just beginning to be possible, its scope is significantly smaller than modern sci-fi. Alternate universes/dimensions were pretty uncommon because the idea of alien planets still held a lot of wonder to it. So, as a general rule, don’t try to go farther than the one galaxy.

ATOM is a setting for stories that are focused on humanity learning to coexist with monsters, rather than humanity destroying them. A certain level of sympathy is put into almost every creature of its canon, even the ones that are meant to be villains.

REFERENCE MATERIAL

Here is a playlist of 1950′s monster movie trailers.

Here is some reference material from various monster comics of the 50′s and 60′s.

Good movies to track down to understand ATOM’s inspiration and tone include Ghidorah the 3 Headed Monster, Son of Godzilla, Destroy All Monsters, Them!, The Black Scorpion, 20 Million Miles to Earth, Gamera, The Giant Claw, and The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra.

And here’s the intro cutscenes for all the different giant monsters in the PS2 videogame War of the Monsters.

#The Atomic Time of Monsters #The ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3D

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lemon--squeezy · 3 years

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𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 | 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Summary: 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫 found love during his teen years and ended up married to his high school sweetheart. However, he hadn't been prepared for the effects caused on him by a younger Agent and coworker.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of/implied attemped rape, sexual scenes, adult language, angst, boss/employee relationship, cheating, age difference and canon-typical violence.

A/N: Before we start I just wanted to warn you that English is not my first language so you might see some grammar and spelling errors, if you spot any just let me know please. I hope you can bear with me! This story in also available on Wattpad

“You made a really deep cut and baby, now we’ve got bad blood…” — Taylor Swift

Rays of a morning sun shine through the many windows, bringing a needy warmth to the cold bullpen of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. As soon as one enters the room, the bitter but invitingly warm scent of black coffee would invade their nostrils; a much needed drink to endure the consuming aspects of working for the FBI. Hushed footsteps, discussions of rapports, chairs moving around and whispers of good mornings are the prominent sounds filling the environment.

At the center of the room, three distinct agents are discussing among themselves about gossips of the office. A strong, shaved headed man, with dark skin and a smirk plastered on his face. By his side, half sitting on his desk is a woman with fluffy bright blonde hair, thick black glasses supported by her delicate nose and wearing colorful clothes, making her stick out in an ocean of grey suits and blazers. Standing in front of them is a raven-headed woman, with pale skin and dressing a dark outfit like no one else could do.

While grabbing his mug and sipping his morning coffee, the man looks at his wristwatch, slightly shaking his head in a mocking disapproval and declares, “It’s officially five minutes since our work time started and Agent Davis hasn’t arrived,” he flashes a smirk to the black headed female who had being part of the team for barely a month and continues, “I hope you’re ready to witness your first breakfast time quarrel between the bossman and Amy.”

Emily, the sophisticated gothic woman, stares confusedly at her teammate and says, “Okay, I’m gonna take the bait. What are you talking about, Morgan?”

He flashes a mischievous smile, “Do you want to explain it to the newbie, baby girl?” Morgan asks the blonde and eager female to tell the new girl about the most volatile - and funny to watch - dynamic of the team. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already noted that my lovely girl Amelia Davis and our stiff yet good-looking Superior don’t tolerate each other,” Penelope happily blabbers. “Since today is Monday and Amy loooves partying hard on the weekends, she’s already late. Something that displeases the bossman who is constantly waiting to scold Amy because of her little mistakes.”

“That is intriguing. Are you sure it isn’t all about sexual tension? That would explain their behavior.” Agent Emily Prentiss questions inducing a gasp from Penelope and a laugh from Derek.

“We’ve all considered it at some point,” the man affirms. “Just don’t say that to Davis or she will lecture you about how terrible it is that two people of the opposite sex aren’t allowed to sincerely and deeply hate one another,” he concludes and looks in the direction of his Superior individual office through the open blinds. “Hotch seems to be especially annoyed today so I bet he won’t even wait for Davis to reach her table before he calls her attention.” Morgan deduces and the elevator cheeps in sync announcing new arrivals, making the three agents stare in its direction. They see a couple of interns hurrying to the coffee marker and the next person to come out is the disheveled figure of Agent Davis. Her crystal blue eyes are hidden by black sunglasses, the woman’s usually perfect long brunette hair is currently disheveled, her button up white shirt is supporting some wrinkles while her dark grey blazer is in her left hand along with her bag. She connects the fingers of her right hand with her temple massaging it in a foolish attempt to ease the headache obviously caused by a hangover.

Amelia tries to walk discreetly in the direction of her desk, hoping she would pass unnoticed by her boss, but she isn’t successful. Seeing her state, Derek whistles and loudly states, “I think someone had a wild night,” he laughs with Prentiss and Penelope. His booming voice affects the balance of Davis, making her stumble over her own feet and before she gets a hold of her chair and tells the man to be quiet, the harsh sound of a door opening echoes through the entire space of the bullpen.

“Agent Davis. My office. Now,” the chief unit’s demand rings like thunder, giving chills to the ones around.

“Fuck,” Amy murmurs while taking off her sunglasses and dropping her belongings on her desk.

The brunette drags her legs, taking her time along the short way to her boss’s office.

Amelia feels like she’s in high school and the principal is calling to lecture her, but that’s something she never experienced during her school years since her teachers adored her effort to have the best grades and eagerness to learn. Besides, she could always blast a polite amiable smile to make people bend at her will. It came easily to Amy, being friendly and kind towards others, virtues that paid off and made everyone like her. Well, everyone but him.

The door to the room is already opened and to Amy, it resembles the entrance of a

scary and dark cave. After she’s inside, she makes sure to close it to shield herself from the curious ears of her coworkers. She goes straight to one of the chairs across from the stoic man, a journey she’s so used to, considering that Hotchner’s constantly expressing his discontent with her whether it was about being a few minutes late, or about a typo in a rapport, or even choosing to use a grey folder instead of the yellow ones. Everything would lead to criticism and by now she would just take it with humor. She mumbles a good morning but Aaron simply ignores it.

“Tell me, Agent, what’s your excuse for today? Two weeks ago there was something wrong with your car, four weeks ago it was a problem with shower. I can’t wait to hear about another one of your misfortunes,” there’s venom watering each word, his eyes colder than a winter day and his entire posture screams irritation.

Amy thinks how he’s ever so ridge when she’s around. Every time she enters the same room as him, the jet black haired man would instantly go ridge like her mere presence was a heinous crime. She’s used to it and more than happy to demonstrate that she is also offended by his existence.

“Would you believe me if I told you that my nanny died?” Davis playfully replies and grins, which boils Aaron’s anger further.

“Do you think this is some sort of joke?” he snaps, standing from his chair and positioning his hands on the desk that separated them. “I can’t have people in this unit that don’t take their job seriously and I don’t have time to endure irresponsibility and lack of respect.”

I bet you would have a lot of free time if you just left me the fuck alone, dude - Amelia thinks while maintaining eye contact with the man.

“One more day of tardiness and you will have to suffer consequences. Is that clear enough for you, agent?” he fumes.

She bites her lips and swallows a bitter response. Not afraid of the outcome, just too tired to deal with her boss’s intensity so early in the day. “Yes, boss.”

“You can leave now,” he grunts and sits back in his chair. Starting to reach for one of the files on his desk; at the same time, Amelia makes a quick way out of the room. Once she gets to her chair, she releases a loud sigh, longing for the day to be over already.

“That seemed intense.” Emily comments. She and Morgan are in their respectives chairs and Penelope has made her way to her own office - after the end of the show, of course.

“You have no idea,” Amy answers while starting her work.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between the two of you?” Prentiss carefully asks, genuinely curious.

“He’s the one who decided to hate me since my first day, I’m just returning the sentiment,” Davis explains, unbothered by the question, being a curious person herself she knows how it is once interest sparks. That’s when Dr. Reid and Agent Jareau arrive, talking to themselves. Spencer is carrying a notebook with a sketch of a boy’s face in it, moving around the room frantically and picking a telephone.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia worriedly questions.

“Need to get that to everyone as soon as possible,” Reid hurriedly explains while making a call. “Detective Barnes, this is Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico,” he clarifies to the person on the other side of the phone and continues rapidly, “Have you had recent murders involving prostitutes? They would’ve been stabbed to death and their hair would’ve been cut off by the killer,” that causes the other Agents to exchange confused glances, intrigued by the sudden event.

“When was the last recent victim?” the Doctor inquires to the Detective on the line.

Seems like we have a case, Amy processes.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fic #agent hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfic #hotch x oc #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!oc #aaron hotchner angst

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honeypirate · 3 years

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Old Friend pt 2

Part one

Vulcan x Fem!Reader

Request: Can you do a part 2 of an old friend with how Vulcan's friends would react to reader? Also, Lisa secretly likes Vulcan and blackmails reader. This takes place when Lisa is revealed as a traitor to Vulcan.

Sooooooo I already had this part semi written so I just tried to add most of this request hahah I didn’t have the blackmail part so I tried to add it and I just left the ending like I already had. I hope you like it!

Unedited like usual

“Oh” she says with a forced smile and you stare, just a little too long trying to place her. How do you know her?! “Hi there! I’m Yu, it’s nice to meet you” the boy says as he comes toward you “I’m y/n” you say with an awkward laugh before reaching out your hand for a hand shake “it’s nice to meet you as well” Lisa eyes you the whole time, she knew you right away. She remembers the day you met, you knocked on Giovanni’s office as they finished their meeting and he brought you in, talking to you about your duties for a moment before dismissing you, Lisa watching from her spot on a chair. You didn’t look or talk to her, but she knew something wrong was happening for you to be here. “Hey Yu, how about you show y/n the workshop and Vulcan and I will make some food” you make eye contact with Vulcan, your eyes a little concerned and he just smiles softly and nods. Yu smiles “follow me! Maybe I can show you my inventions too” you chuckle softly as he launches into telling you about his ideas as he leads you out the door.

“What happened to her?” Lisa asks, Why is she here? She adds just in her head, as she takes ingredients from the fridge “she just escaped Giovani and needed refuge” Vulcan says with a sigh as he starts the stove. “Did those boys leave? For real?” Vulcan asks and Lisa nods “yeah they’re gone now. And your can throwing mess is cleaned up” Vulcan laughs “thank you, Lisa”

You’re sitting in the couch in the little home space in the side of the workshop, Yu showing you his sketches and his prototypes, you ask questions excitedly since you have experience with Vulcan’s inventions. “this is the idea I had last, it’s a machine that cuts your hair for you” he shows you a helmet and you laugh “that’s terrifying but I hope you succeed with it because it would be really cool”

“Hey Yu? Can I have a moment with her? Woman to woman?” Yu blushes before he nods and quickly walks out of the room, taking his machine with him. you swallow hard as you look up at the redhead. She sits on the coffee table beside the couch, crossing her naked leg over her Jean clad one, and smiles sickly sweet down at you.

“Do you know the story of Goldilocks and the three bears?” you nod slowly and she laughs “oh perfect! Then you understand how fucking stupid those bears are” she grins with a head tilt. your brows furrow “what?” you ask and scoot forward to the edge of your seat, meaning to stand. Yet she stops you, blocking your way and uncrossing her legs. “I mean, they’re bears!” she says and laughs “a little girl came into their home and ate their porridge, and they just let her.” her next words are quiet, dripping with rage, as she leans in closer to you. “If i was a bear, and someone came for my porridge, I would have ripped her skinny little arms off” she flicks her hair with and grins, her eyes filled with hate as she laughs again

“It.. it’s just porridge” you whisper, your hands beginning to tremble with anger but you know in your state you can’t fight her. The air seems to crackle with tension, her anger is seething in her eyes as she acts fake sweet, dripping with a ridiculous amount of disdain for you. “yeah well, when someone comes into my home and tries to take someone I cherish, i won’t let them take it” you push her back and stand, meaning to defend yourself but before you can she laughs and brushes her fingers across your neck, pushing your hair behind your shoulder “you’re just so pretty! Such gorgeous hair!” she chuckles before standing and walking out of the room, the air seeming to relax as she leaves. leaving you to try and control your breathing as you sit back down and slump against the couch, your hands shaking and cold.

Then it hits you, Giovanni’s voice echoing in your head as the memory of him slicing your skin comes back “we already have a girl in place, we don't really need you. You met her once on your first day, she was in my office” you stand quickly and head towards the kitchen but before you can get there, the door is bursting open.

(Skippy skip skip)

Your head is pounding as you watch the scene unfold from your spot against the wall where you were thrown, your body too numb to move and most of your wounds reopened. “This is my fault. If I just stayed away. Maybe. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened” you think as tears fall down your cheeks

Lisa had taken her extra hatred out on you causing probable brain damage from the fact that you can’t hear anything other than soft music, which you know isn't coming from this place.

Your eyes drift over to Vulcan from his place on the ground, the smashed machine next to him bringing more tears to your eyes. That was such a precious item to him, one that you shared memories with as well. You can’t control the memory that washes over you, it feels like you’re really experiencing the memory again.

“Are you sure?” You whisper as he locks his bedroom door, you must be about 10. He was showing you the extra special machine his dad never let him use alone, it was a family secret but you had convinced him to show you. He laughs “y/n this was your idea” you sigh “I know! But we aren’t supposed to and now I’m feeling guilty” he pats your head “don’t worry so much. It’s fine” then he turns it on and your whole word explodes.

Stars Burst along the edge of your vision as you come back to earth, looking around your eyes land on the blonde girl, she’s from the eighth but you don’t remember her name. She glances at you and her face contorts with worry and recognition.

Your eyes wander over to Giovanni again, the stars morphing into rainbow colors. You assume he is saying something as he looks down at Vulcan's form but before he can do anything the door is exploding, taking Giovani out. The boy who caused the explosion made you smirk but you couldn't really see him, your eyes clouding with dark spots now.

For a second you think that the falling animals are part of your brain injuries, but then you realize, that’s all Vulcan. The blonde girl pressing the buttons, her voice finally reaching your ears as the world comes back to you. Her little ‘latom’s she’s whispering make you smile. The boy without the shirt who took out the door blasts Giovanni through the wall and that's when it all goes dark and quiet, pulling you down into the endless darkness

When you wake up you’re in the hospital, the familiar scent of disinfectant filling your nose. When your eyes open they land on Obi “hey kid” he says “long time no see” you chuckle and then groan from the pain in your body as you sit up “you had a lot of damage, nasty cuts and many bruised bones and organs but you’re going to be fine. If you do well over night you can come home tomorrow. Vulcan and Shinra filled me in on what happened with Giovanni.” you nod and look at your hands, now bandaged on a few fingers.

“Come to the eighth, as a guest or as a member” he says and you smile, meeting his eye again “I'd like that. To be on the right side for real now” your voice was strained from the dryness in your throat and he poured you a glass of water. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of how far you’ve come. You’ve done amazing work y/n” you feel tears prick your eyes and you look down again, brushing them away “Thank you Captain” you whisper and he pats your shoulder

You’re let out of the hospital the next day, your concussion was bad but they said you could rest at home with a check up in a few weeks to make sure you were healing properly.

“This is going to be your room while you stay here, it’ll be private for the time being. Now you should probably rest.” you scoff “come on now Obi, I’m not a wuss. Just a little weak. Show me the rest and introduce me to the team” your captain laughs and it makes you feel warmth in your heart, which was incredibly nice considering all you felt at the third was cold and isolated. you were pretty sure your heart was shriveled from that but this warmth finally makes you think otherwise. Obi pats your shoulder softly “Alright alright, follow me then”

Meeting the team was probably the sweetest moment you’ve had in a long time. They were all so kind, so welcoming. “We’re glad to have you back.” Maki says and Iris next to her is nodding. You recognize them as the ones who showed you to Obi's office that first day. You smiled, a true smile that you meant, other than the cold ones at the third that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thank you”

Vulcan in the back of the room comes up to you when he sees your shoulders slump “come on, you should rest” he says and you nod, you’re not ready to talk to him but you’re too tired and weak to object as he leads you out of the room.

“We should talk” he says once you’re alone and far enough from the others. “V, I just- what?” His expression makes you stop your sentence, wide eyes and smiling. “nothing you just, it’s been a while since you called me that is all” your heart rate spikes and you curse it, curse it for having feelings you can’t squash. “Oh” you say softly as he opens your bedroom door for you, following you inside and closing the door.

You sit on your bed and look down at your bandaged hands, they were semi dirty and could probably be changed but you’d do that when he leaves. “I’m sorry Vulcan. If I didn’t come to you this wouldn’t have happened” you feel tears well up in your eyes so you screw them shut. He takes one step and kneels down in front of you, he takes your hands gently in one of his and with the other he cups your cheek “look at me please” he whispers and you swallow before opening your eyes, the tears held behind your eyelids spilling quickly down your cheeks as you meet his soft green eyes.

“I don’t blame you. Not one bit. I think that would have happened regardless. It’s not your fault.” More tears fall from your face and he wipes them away softly before standing and holding your head gently against his lower chest as he hugs you against him.

Your weak hands grip the back of his shirt softly as you cry into his chest, all the Unshed tears and emotions you’ve repressed coming back to you tenfold. When you calm down you pull back, frowning at the wet mark on his shirt.

“Don’t worry about that” he says when he notices what you’re looking at, and he crouches back down. “Yu told me what Lisa did to you before, what she said” you swallow and try to look away from him but he gently tilts your face back to his and you scowl to which he chuckles “you’ve always been so cute when you make that face. I’m glad that hasn’t changed” your breath hitches and he tilts his head slightly, looking at you with a smile before he swallows and continues his thoughts.

“She never should have threatened you, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry about her beating you. I’m sorry for the pain she has caused you” his eyes are so genuine you feel your throat constrict with feelings again.

You clear your throat and nod once, trying to stave off the second wave of tears you feel coming. Sure, she beat you, she threatened you, she caused you and Vulcan pain. But the way he looked at her in the kitchen, he truly cares about her, and you’ll do anything to make sure he’s happy.

“We have to save her Vulcan. I know she hates me, she made that 100% clear. But no one deserves to be hurt like that. No one deserves to be tortured and brainwashed” his eyes widen “youd, you’d do that? You’d save her? After everything she’s done?” His voice was quiet and you took a moment, looking deep into his brilliant eyes before you say “yes. I know she means a lot to you. For you, V. I’ll save her for you”

The knock at your door makes you jump before chuckling softly “come in” you say and Maki sticks her head through the door “dinner is on the table” she says with a smile and you smile back “thank you Maki, we’ll be right there”

Your conversation was put on hold as he helped you from your bed. He keeps his hand on your middle back as you walk, guiding you down to the dining room, smelling dinner in the air makes your stomach rumble.

Before you all dig in, Obi makes an announcement. “Y/n, we’d like you to debrief us tomorrow morning, tell us anything that is important that you’ve learned at the third.” you nod“you got it, Captain.” He nods and looks at the rest of the table “We had Captain Hibana from the Fifth and Lieutenant Konro from the Seventh as well as Hinawa share information earlier today which we will also go over tomorrow” He smiles “that’s all guys. Dig in” you take a bite and physically moan from how delicious it is, your eye catching the smirk from the lieutenant who cooked this meal.

After dinner the three girls walk you back to your room “you grew up with Vulcan?” Tamaki asks and you smile “yeah! our parents were friends and he was my closest friend growing up. I uh kinda ruined it when I left him. He didn’t want to find out the truth and I had to. But now that I know more I regret it.” Iris places her hand in your shoulder and Maki frowns “are you in love with him?” Maki asks softly and you hum softly, your heart cracking, “yes…. ” It takes everything in you to have your voice not crack and you swallow hard before you continue

Vulcan rounds the corner, going to check on you and bring you some water. He smiles when he sees you girls in front of him and freezes when he hears your voice “but now he’s just an old friend.” He watches you three disappear into your room and then turns, walking away, the pain in his chest just barely below the pain of when you left him.

(Skippity bippity )

They brought Lisa back, she’s in terrible shape and she pretty much kept to her and Vulcan's room. The fact that they are sharing a room makes jealous bile rise in your throat. You weren’t there when they rescued her, too wounded and shaky to go so you stayed back at the compound, doing paperwork and worrying.

When they got back Vulcan took Lisa to his room and he’s been camped outside the door for the most part but last you saw he wasn’t. So you did your thing and gave them space, heading to bed right after dinner.

Around midnight you wake up and you just know you won’t be able to sleep, your brain feels too awake, so you decide on tea.

You roll out of your bed slowly, your bruises and bones have healed a little but they still hurt when you move. you throw a blanket over your shoulders and open your bedroom door.

On your way to the kitchen you pass Vulcan’s door, pausing for a moment, thinking about knocking, but decide against it, you didn’t want to accidentally wake Lisa just to talk to him, as bad as you wanted to talk to him, it’s not your place. the only sound is your bare feet against the hard floor as you walk away.

You make yourself a cup of tea and head to the common room, sitting in the middle of one of the comfy sofas and looking out the window on the opposite wall. After a few moments you close your eyes and hold your warm mug in your hands, focusing on the warmth of the tea as you wait for your medication to kick in.

You hear someone’s feet and your eyes open just as someone bursts through the door and you gasp before you realize who it is. The lights flick on “Vulcan what the fuck?” you mumble and your eyes shut tight, one of your hands covering your eyes. “y/n?” Vulcan asks, his voice worried and his breath coming in pants “I. I went to the bathroom and passed your room and it was empty. I was worried but the more rooms I checked the more you weren’t in..” he’s talking with his hands when you crack open your eyes looking through your fingers, his facial expression was semi-embarrassed.

“I thought you were gone again” he finishes with a whisper and you open your eyes all the way, a small smile on your lips. “Would you mind turning off the light? And then coming and sitting by me?” He nods and turns back, the lights going off and him sitting by you in just a few seconds.

“I'm not going to leave you again” you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder as you feel your pill kick in. “Not unless you asked me to. No matter if anyone threatens me. No matter what. I hope you don’t mind that” you finish and he sighs, relief pooling in his bones. “I don’t mind” he whispers back and leans his head against yours, pulling some of your blanket from your lap on to his.

It feels weird to have it be so easy with him still, like no time had passed.

You take a sip of your tea that empties your cup and you set it on the empty seat to you and then turn farther into Vulcan, you couldn’t resist the warmth of his body and the pain in your bones. “Remember when pops caught us kissing when we were 12?”

He chuckles, his arm coming around you to hold you gently to his chest “he scared me so bad I never kissed you again”

you laugh “I’m glad I got to give my first kiss to someone I trust”

he closes his eyes “why are you talking about this now?”

“I thought about the time we fell asleep on the couch after you showed me the animals for the first time. The same couch you asked to kiss me on” you sigh into him, your body relaxing more

He chuckles again “pops found us then too. He took a picture.”

You lean up quickly and meet his eye with a smile “he did?! I bet that was adorable”

He smiles “of course. We’re cute kids. I’ll grab it next time I go back there”

Your smile falters as you feel your eyes burn “V, I really missed you” you whisper and he pauses for a moment, his eyes searching yours before he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours.

It only lasts a few seconds but your whole world feels like it’s stopped. Your mind was melting as fireworks ran down your spine. He pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours. “But. But youre with Lisa” you whisper and he pulls back swiftly to look at you “what? no she’s like a kid sister. Gross” You look away from his eyes, feeling embarrassed. “You called me just your old friend after I told you I love you then she threatened me about taking someone she loves, and I haven’t talked to you in two days since we got her back, which that one is understandable but I kinda just assumed you were together”

“I’m sorry. I got scared. I wanted to kiss you then. But I was scared you’d leave me. I didn’t want to tell you I loved you for you to leave me again” your eyes widened as you look swiftly back to his eyes, his green ones shining in the light from the window. “What?” You ask quietly and he smiles, cupping your cheek “I love you” he says and you lean forward, pressing your lips to his.

The flash of a camera is what wakes you, followed by the sound of Viktor’s and Iris’s giggles. “Good morning sleepy heads” he said, stretching out the word good. “Breakfast is ready” Iris says and Viktor hands you the picture that popped out of his instant camera and walking away.

“Hi” he says when your eyes meet and you smile “come on, let’s eat and make a plate for Iris. Maybe she won’t hate me when she gets better” he laughs and helps you up gently, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head. “I can’t tell you how much i love that you’re such a forgiving person. And that you believe me even after what she’s put you and us through '' you sigh softly, you kind of wanted to hate her but you just.. Couldnt. You believed in Vulcan and what he’s told you about her. “I trust you V. even if i don’t trust her, even if that’s just for right now, i’ll always trust you” he kisses the top of your head and then takes your hand as you begin towards the dining room

You didn’t know how Lisa would act around you now, but the feeling of his hand in yours gives you the confidence that you could work this out. You weren’t alone anymore.

#fire force vulcan joseph #fire force vulcan #vulcan x y/n #vulcan x you #vulcan x reader #vulcan joseph x reader #vulcan joseph x y/n #vulcan joseph x you #fire force fanfiction #fire force #fire force imagines #vulcan request

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sometimes-love-is-enough · 4 years

Photo

Character sheets and illustrations for @kieraelieson‘s @ts-storytime Big Bang story, Searching For Home! I’m very, very glad that I jumped in to pinchhit for her, because doing all this art has been an absolute blast.

Click on those bad boys for full size and details.

[image description: Below cut, due to length.

The first three images are digital art showing 'profiles' of the various characters - with one full-body illustration to the far left with their names next to them, and various smaller illustrations of them to the right.

First image:

1: 'Dee' - a medium-height man with shoulder-height wavy brown hair. His skin is light brown, and his ears are pointed. The right side of his face are covered in a dotted pattern, and he winks mysteriously at out at the viewer. He is wearing a long black cloak with bright golden highlights, and his arms are lightly crossed beneath it. Underneath it, he has a plain brown suit and long pants. He is barefoot. Next, a shot of Dee from behind displays that his cloak has a long gap in the back. He is glancing over one shoulder at the viewer. Handwritten text next to this reads 'back of cloak is also open to make room for wings' An illustration of Dee facing away from the viewer, now with a set of large golden-yellow wings on full display. They're similar in shape to butterfly wings, with two distinct sections to both sides and ragged edges, like a goldfish's tail. Light orange patterns run through them like veins. They appear to glow, faintly. Above this is a small doodle of Dee flying with these wings, arms outstretched to either side. He is glowing brightly, and a dotted line trails out from behind him, marking where he's flown frown.

2: 'Virgil' - a short child with pale skin and messy dark hair. His arms are crossed protectively over his front, and he looks out with his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly open. His shirt is grey and has many patches and tears on it, and his pants are a dark purple and in a similar state. His brown shoes are untied. Next to this, Virgil sits cross-legged on the ground, expression delighted as he pets and plays with a very large black fluffy spider with red eyes. A small purple heart hovers over his head. Virgil faces away, displaying a set of large wings that are attached to his back. His wings are similar to a monarch butterfly's, but purple and violet in coloring. The edges have bright white and purple spots on them, and the middle of both has intricate dotted patterns with teardrop-shaped black and white 'eye' markings on them. They are glowing faintly white. Above this, a sketchier drawing of Virgil attempting to fly with these wings. He has an expression of panic on his face, and is flailing his arms wildly. A handwritten note pointing to this illustration reads 'Too skinny, clothes are a bit too baggy + beat up.'

Second image:

1: 'Logan' - a tall thin man in a long black trenchcoat with silver buttons. Underneath, a dark blue shirt with ruffles and a pair of full-length brown pants with a silver belt. He has light skin and brown hair parted neatly over his left ear. He's wearing square spectacles and raising one hand in greeting, with the other tucked behind his back. Next to this, Logan is giving a Patton (see next character description) a ride on his shoulders. He's holding firmly onto Patton's legs, and smiling up at him. Patton's eyes are closed in contentment and his arms are folded on top of Logan's head. There is a swirl of dark blue in the background of this. A handwritten note next to this indicates that 'this is the right way to carry a child.' Logan, no longer his his long coat, has fallen asleep next to a pile of books. He rests his head in the crook of one arm, with a cartoonish 'Z' in a bubble above his head. Logan, in motion as he sprints towards some unknown destination. His eyes are wide and his coat swirls dramatically around him. A circle of dark color encircles his head. Two small sketches of Logan carrying Patton. In the first, he has Patton tucked inelegantly under one arm, like you might carry a football. Both of them seem unconcerned, and Patton is smiling. In the second, Logan lifts Patton up, holding him under the armpits with a blank expression. Patton flails his hands happily, grinning. The handwritten text next to this notes that 'These are probably not good ways to carry a child'.

2: 'Patton': a short chubby child with a bright grin and square glasses. His skin is a darker brown than Dee's, but still fairly light. His hair is curly and dark-gold, and he's wearing a light grey coat with lighter grey fluffy bits at the neck, sleeves, and bottoms. His jeans are cyan and fall just below his knees. He wears brown boots and a light-blue shirt underneath the coat. Patton in profile from the chest up, facing right. He isn't wearing his coat, and he's still grinning. A note pointing to his glasses reads 'Doesn't actually need glasses! They're frames. He wears them so he can look like Logan' Patton, waist-deep in water, with his coat pulled up around his head. His eyes aren't visible but he's still smiling. His hands are extended outwards, like he's venturing further into the water. He's surrounded by specks of light. Two doodles of a baby seal, whose fluffy fur and coloring greatly resembles Patton's coat. There are spots of gold the same shade as Patton's hair on its back.. The first shows the seal lying on its side and looking left, flippers pulled close to its chest and water droplets exploding out around it. A label declares it '(FLUFFY)'. In the next, the seal pup is splashing downwards into water, bubbles spiraling out around it.

Third image: 1: 'Remy' - a medium-height man with brown skin, wearing sunglasses (from behind which yellow eyes are faintly visible) and a necklace with a yellow pendant. Short orange horns extend from his dark brown hair. He's grinning crookedly and flashing a peace sign at the viewer. He wears an unbuttoned black jacket with a ragged hem and a dark shirt visible underneath it, and black sweatpants with dark brown boots. He balances his weight on one foot, tipping the other back. A handwritten note pointing to him reads 'hides horns under hair, hides yellow eyes behind dark glasses'. An illustration of Remy's dragon form - a tall black dragon with the same coloring as Remy's jacket, and massive dark wings that are extended above him. His tail is long and ends with a puff of wavy brown fluff. A note pointing to it reads 'swishy soft tail'. He has the same orange horns as humanoid-Remy does, except longer and curved backwards, and glowing yellow eyes. His neck is curved and bent downwards as he looks at a pink sketch of a fat man with wings, who is there to provide size reference. The man barely comes up to the base of his neck. An illustration of Remy in flight with Emile riding him (see next description for details). Remy's massive wings extended out to catch the wind, and his limbs and tail are bent as though he's turning in midair. He glances up at Emile, on his back. Emile is grinning, his own wings open to catch the wind, and is holding tightly to Remy's neck.

2: 'Emile' - a fat medium-height man with light brown skin and light brown hair streaked through his pink. He has square-ish spectacles and a half-smile on his face. He wears a light pink-grey sweater patterned with salmon stripes, and a pair of light blue jeans. His shoes are brown. He also has a pair of large wings extending from his back. They're dark brown at the top but the color transitions from there into a lighter brown, into even lighter brown, and from there into cream. Emile faces away from the camera, his wings fully extended behind him. From here, we can see that they resemble a falcon's wings, and that the dark brown is more prevalent on the back of them. A note pointing to this explains that they're 'Slightly too small to properly fly with - better for gliding'. An illustration of Emile in flight. His wings are extended to catch the air and are not rendered in very much detail. His arms are raise and one foot is extended, as if he's coming in to land. Behind him is a blue sky and faint wispy clouds.

The fourth image shows all of the full-body portraits from the previous images positioned next to each other to show their heights in relation to each other. In order from tallest to shortest, this is Logan, Remy, Emile, Dee, Virgil, and Patton. Behind them is a light pink-to-blue gradient, with lines extending from the top of their heads to emphasize their heights. They are standing on a nondescript grey rectangle.

The last three images are watercolor A4 portraits featuring the character designs from the previous images.

Fifth image: Virgil and Dee, both with their wings out, are in the middle of a lush green forest, surrounded by oversized flowers and blades of glass. The gnarled brown wood of various trees frames the scene. Dee is standing barefoot in the grass, facing sideways with his glowing golden wings extended behind him. He's smiling up at Virgil, with an encouraging hand extended upwards and the other holding onto Virgil's own hands. Virgil is giggling and hovering in midair, wings fluttering and legs slightly askew as he tries to work out how to fly. They're illuminated by a beam of sunlight from above. A spider appoximately the size of a small perches on the wood in the left foreground, watching them.

Sixth image: Logan walks through a rushing deep blue river that comes up to mid-calf height. His long coat swishes around him and he is glancing back with a worried expression on his face at Patton, who he's carrying on his back. Patton's arms are wrapped around Logan's chest and his legs are behind supported by Logan's hands. He's wearing his grey coat and flasses and appears to be asleep. Puffs of white mist swirl near Logan's head. Behind them both, a black-and-blue night sky is patterend with many, many white stars, some of which are connected in constellation patterns. The moon is bright white in the sky, a half-crescent that illuminates both Logan and Patton from behind.

Seventh image: Remy, in his humanoid form, kneels behind Emile on a bright yellow beach. Remy peers over his sunglasses, looking concerned, as he touches Emile's wings gently - they're tattered and ragged with blood covering them in messy splotches. Emile is sitting with his hands pressed into the sand, glancing back at Remy with a sheepish smile. In front of them, the ocean is visible with bright blue waves foaming white. Behind them, there are many rocks in red, pink, orange and yellow gradients. The sky above is blue with fluffy white clouds, and the sun shines down brightly on the scene.]

#sanders sides #tss #ts-storytime #kieraelieson #my art #long post #image description #image described art

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cass-y0inks · 4 years

Text

Anonymous prompt: during an akuma battle Marinette gets turned into a cat and gets adopted by Damian who is on a business trip with Bruce. Mari and Damian BroTP.

I’m sorry anonymous I didn’t save the message and it got deleted. But thank you for your prompt!

What a CATastrophe

If Marinette had to describe this day in one word would be nightmare. It was going great in the morning, she woke up early and it was the weekend. Her friends chose to go to the zoo where Alya’s father worked at and hang out. They were laughing at the lame jokes they cracked up here and there. It was a normal day for them in Paris. Well Paris ‘normal’.

Kim has gotten to cocky again and taunted the animals at the other sides of the cages. Alya’s father heard it and ordered him out of the enclosure. Though his frustration and anger caused him to get akumatized again. He still had animal related abilities but now he was “Animal Tamer”. He turned others onto animals.

So far some of her classmates had been changed. Kim, the cause of all this mess, had been turned into a monkey. Juleka into a crow, Chloe into a poodle, Ivan was changed into a small bear, and Alix into a rabbit. Though they were with someone so no need to worry about them. Right now Marinette’s top priority was to the akumatized object and cast the miraculous cure.

At first everything was going according to plan. Animal Tamer had taken the bait and they were now near the Eiffel Tower. She had casted her lucky charm e few minutes earlier but she was running out of time. Animal Tamer saw her in a rush and called back up. Soon different species of animals were surrounding her. Grabbing her yo-yo she sung away but the akuma managed to blast her when she landed on a roof.

One second she lands on her two feet the next she looks down, and now she’s covered in fur? She was turned into a cat... great. She was smaller that she usually was and had four feet. Her body now covered in fur was a color that almost resembled her hair color and her ears had two different colord patches which she guessed was there in place or her earrings. Her earrings!

She couldn’t exactly feel her ears so she tried calling out for Tikki. “Meow.” Damit. She was a cat now. All she could do was meow and make other kitten sounds. Funny, even as a cat she was still very tiny. Tikki popped up in front of her with her earrings in her hands.

“Marinette, I know what to do. Get down from here and I’ll go to master fu and see what he can do. I think mister bug might be back in commission. Though we’ll need to get you to the masters later and we’ll also have to find the previous lucky charm. But for now try to get down from here.” Before Marinette could do anything Tikki flew away as fast as she could.

Carefully and slowly she made her way back to the bottom on the ground. She wished she had seen the animals around the area because before she knew it she was running away from poodle Chloe. She though Chloe was annoying as herself in human form but animal Chloe’s barking and yapping was driving her crazy. She reached Le Gran Paris Hotel.

She must have been terrified at the moment because near the lobby she jumped on a tall table where a boy around her age was sitting reading a book. Sabrina came in rushing behind Chloe and trying to pull her back as she started babbling an apology. “I’m so sorry, I thought I had her under control. It’ll never happen again. I’m sorry.” Chloe felt Sabrina loosen her hold on her and leaped forward towards Marinette.

Though the boy in the chair had faster reflexes and picked her up seconds before Chloe could get her paws on her. “I suggest that you gain control of your pet.” For a boy around their age his voice was stern.

Getting hold of Chloes neck again Sabrina continued apologizing until she finally bribed Chloe with shoes. Marinette let out a relieved ‘meow’ and let her ears fall down flat on her head. The boy was still holding her but he looked like he was looking for something. “You don’t seem to have a collar, a basic indication of a stray. I doubt you’d survive with living in these streets with owners who have no control over their own pets. I suppose I should take care of you. Let’s go inform father.”

‘You seem to be a natural at this. Do you go around adopting random strays all the time?’ She thought. But she couldn’t think of that. She had to get away from him and get somewhere where tikki could find her. The kid had her tucked in his side and didn’t seem to budge no matter how many times she would try to kick him. Going into what she guessed was his father’s hotel room they met with a strict tall business man. ‘So this is your dad. Good luck on trying to convince him to let you keep a stray cat.’

Bruce looked up at his son and down at the kitten hidden under his arms and let out a tired sigh. Pinching the bridge of this node he said, “Damian we’ve talked about this. You can’t keep it.”

“Father, first off she is not a ‘it’. And she is a stray, she won’t survive with the way the owners here controll their animals.”

“You can’t keep her. End of discussion.” Looks like he was getting a bit frustrated with him.

“You kept Todd. I get to keep her.”

‘Seriously kid, just back down. He’s your dad.’

Narrowing his eyes he started at his son. “Damian don’t talk about your brother like that. And if I let you keep her, will this be the last one?” In return Damian answered him with a nod.

“Now father if you’ll excuse me I have to go get some supplies for her.” He was ready to leave when Bruce stopped him.

“Damian be careful, and remember we will be leaving later today.”

Damian nodded then left. While he was walking Marinette tried to process what was happening. So she was this kids cat now and they were leaving Paris today. This is the worst day in the history of her life as of now. Damian had gotten her a simple collar. Since her fur was dark he got her a light color so for the it to be visible. He also learned very quickly that she didn’t eat cat food. He tried giving her some food at a part but she wouldn’t eat it. So he gave her food considered human food which of course she ate.

Damian had left her for a bit while she finished eating. That was when tikki found her. “Marinette! I’m so glad I found you! Mister bug already defeated the akuma but we are trying to find your lucky charm so you can change back into your original form. Hold on for a bit longer ok?”

“Meow”

“Right I’ll be back. Take care!”

She tried to race after her but felt a tug at her harness. ‘He’s back’.

“Let’s go, father is waiting for us.” Damian noticed how she wasn’t moving so he just picked her up much to her dislike. They made it back to the hotel and Damian made his way back to his room. He placed her on the bed and packed up his clothes and her harness. There was no point in running away, he had closed all the windows and doors and he had even placed a tracker in her collar.

His father called him to his room to say his goodbye to the mayor for treating them well, even if it was because of their status. Tikki came in through the window and she looked worried. “Marinette I heard what was happening, don’t worry we haven’t found the lucky charm but we will. And I know where your going, we can get Kaalki to get you back here and change you back. Ok?”

At this point Marinette was just tired so all she did was nod and lay her head down. Tikki sighed at her chosen and tried to comfort her but heard footsteps coming so she quickly phased back through the glass window.

Damian came through the doors and picked her up and placed her in his jacket and made his way to the lobby. Outside his father and a taxi were waiting for them. “I have already called the airlines and told them about the extra cargo. Since you haven’t gotten her a cage yet they will allow you to take her if you make sure you hold her and manage to keep her under control while on the air. Understood?”

Damian had looked down at her for a moment then looked up at his father and nodded. She hasn’t given him trouble while she was with him, while she proved to be energetic she was also very calm with him. A few hours later they were at the airport and after what felt like a nother few hours they were finally on the plane. She had taken a nap on the plane ride which made it incredibly hard for Damian to move because he didn’t want to wake her up.

Hours later she woke up and panicked. This wasn’t her room, were was she. Oh right she was a cat adopted by some stranger. That wasn’t creepy or crazy at all. She might as well get used to her new life. Master fu must have used something to make it appear like she didn’t just disappear. She felt a pair of hands scratching her behind her ears.

“You know we haven’t picked out a name for you yet.” Marinette sat up and faced him. He was sitting on his bed sketching. “Let’s figure that out. How about Sam?” ‘Hiss’ “No? What about Nala?” What is this the Lion king. ‘Hiss’. “Ok what about... Nette or Netti? That’s kinda original right?” ‘Well it’s the closest you’ve gotten, ‘Meow’.

“Ok then. Netti it is.”

Days went on and Marinette had lost all hope. Maybe she was going to stay in as a for the. Honestly she was starting to except it. She learned that Damian, even though most of the time a brat, he also needed someone to vent to. He had a hard time making friends and had a harder time understanding how to be a “normal” 13 year old. Though she had a hard time understanding him. Language barrier damit. Yet she picked up on the basics and when Damian would read a book she would try to read over his shoulder and she was getting better at understanding it. His words for his age were considered more complex, not of an average 13 year old.

Sometimes he said that he considered her his voice of reason. When he was doing something stupid all she did was lay her ears flat and lightly shake her head at him and he would stop. When he was feeling down though he wouldn’t say it she would purr on his head and that would soothe him. He also introduced her to Titus which she adored. He was a giant compared to her but he was a big teddy bear. When he little paws would get tired he would pick her up like a mama cat with her kitten and carry her somewhere comfortable to rest. And they were both surprisingly energetic so they would play together.

It was past midnight and Marinette was sleeping when a bright light had woken her up. Tikki and Kaalki had emerged from the light. Guessing that they hadn’t see Damian because Tikki quite loudly said, “Marinette come on we can change you back now. Master fu is wa-.” Tikki froze when she saw Damian standing there staring at them.

“What are you? What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice was dangerously calm.

It took Tikki a lot more time than she thought to explain what was happening and what happened to Marinette. In the end Damian wasn’t sure how any on this was real.

“Prove it, prove I’m not dreaming then and change her back. She’s a cat not a person.” Before he knew it ladybug’s where surrounding Marinette and changed her back. To which she was more than great full.

Hugging herself she looked back at Damian who was ready to pass out. “Shh you can’t tell anyone about this.” Her whispering came out as more of a hiss.

Damian mimicking her tone replied, “How do you not expect me to have a reaction? I thought you were a cat for weeks. You lived with me as a cat for weeks! What th-“

“Don’t finish that sentence I already had to listen to you cuss multiple times without saying anything. And I couldn’t tell you I was a person because I was a cat!” He looked down at the floor with a glare displayed on his face. He slided down to the floor.

Marinette hesitantly made her way towards him and sat down next to him. They stayed quiet for a moment until she broke the silence. “You know all of this aside, we can still be friends. I noticed how hard it is for you to make friends, you vented a lot.” A small smile made her way towards her lips when he gave her an annoyed glare but it quickly fell Because he knew she was right. And she was the reason why he didn’t make many idiotic decisions.

He stood up and walked up to his desk. “Do you have a number I can talk to you from?” He sighed out in defeat and gave her a piece of paper and a pencil. She took them and wrote down her phone number on it and gave it back to him when she was done. They both stood awkward silence for a second. Marinette extended her hand to him, she had learned that he wasn’t an affectionate person. Damian shook her hand slightly and let it go. She made her way to were Tikki and Kaalki we’re waiting. Before she stepped into the portal she looked back at Damian.

“Thank you Damian.”

“Your welcome, Netti?” He wasn’t sure that was her actual name so that last part was more of a question.

She let out a small giggle, “it’s Marinette actually. Goodbye”

“Goodbye Marinette.”

Once Marinette had stepped into the portal and closed it. He knew it was the appropriate time to pass out.

Tag list: @the-black-fox

#maribat #maribat au #maribat promt #MB marinette #MB damian #bff daminette #my writting #my writing

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jazzviewswithcj · 3 years

Text

A deeper look at Merci Miles: (Warner Records, 2021)

Miles Davis: trumpet; Kenny Garrett: saxophone; Deron Johnson: keyboard; Richard Patterson: bass; Ricky Wellman: drums

By July, 1991 Miles Davis was music royalty. The previous decade saw him reach a level of popularity and stardom seldom seen in jazz. By the early 80’s the trumpeter had changed music multiple times, 4 to be exact, with his foray into hip hop, the first recording to be issued after his death Doo Bop (Warner Bros, 1992) , marking the fifth groundbreaking turn in his career. Prior to his passing from stroke complications in 1991, he maintained a vigorous touring schedule, and the performances of his sextet of the period, the finest late career band he ever led (and arguably one of the best bands of his entire career) were supercharged. The music captured on the newly released Merci Miles: Live at Vienne (Rhino, 2021) marks the first time anywhere save two YouTube videos the concert has been available in full, and is significant and historically important for two reasons: it is one of Miles’ final performances in France available legally, and it features two compositions by Prince, the cheeky entendre laden titles “Penetration” and “Jailbait” that the late icon wrote specifically for Davis.

The picture of the late singer/composer/multi instrumentalist’s involvement with Davis is much clearer through the release of Prince’s own Sign O’ The Times multi disc mega box set and the official release of “Can I Play With U?” a track originally written by The Purple One during the legendary Rubberband (Rhino, 2018) sessions. Prince’s track was going to be included on what eventually turned out to be Davis’ first album with his new label, Warner Bros. Tutu (1986) but was eventually shelved. The track was then slated to be issued in the original, much more substantial The Last Word: The Complete Warner Brothers Recordings box set from the early 2000’s (of which promo copies existed) but was fazed out due to rights issues.

The trumpeter always regarded France warmly, from the time he first set foot on French soil as a 22 year old in 1949. The country was also where in the late 1950’s he recorded the innovative soundtrack to Elevator To The Gallows or Ascenseur pour l’echafaud director Louis Malle’s smoky noir film of which the trumpeter’s soundtrack, completely improvised featuring a top French rhythm section crystallized some of the ideas the trumpeter later would apply on Kind of Blue (Columbia, 1959). France was also the setting for the infamous romance with the late French starlet Juliette Greco. More importantly, France, being the first country to wholeheartedly embrace jazz and recognize creative improvised Black music to be on par with European art music, was ready for whatever Davis brought to the table, instead of the misdirected pining that many fans and critics demonstrated in the U.S. for his past, acoustic centered work.

Merci Miles was captured on July 1, 1991 at the Jazz a Vienne festival, at a picturesque Roman amphitheater filled to capacity. 7 days later on July 8, Miles would revisit the material from Porgy and Bess, Miles Ahead and Sketches of Spain at the Montreux Jazz Festival with a double orchestra conducted by Quincy Jones and featuring the late trumpeter Wallace Roney as a second voice alongside occasional spots for alto saxophonist Kenny Garrett. The appearance featuring this music was followed by an appearance with former band mates in Paris on July 10 (a concert that unfortunately of this writing is being thieved by bootleggers for album release), and the European swing wrapped up in Nice, France on July 16th.

Miles’ band that July 1st evening, featuring Deron Johnson (who grew up with Miles’ nephew and former drummer Vince Wilburn, Jr) on keyboards; Kenny Garrett on alto saxophone and flute) lead bassist and Parliament alumnus Foley, bassist Richard Patterson, and the late Ricky Wellman on drums were inspired and smoking.

“Hannibal” written by Marcus Miller, which appeared on the group’s latest studio album Amandla (1989) is the high energy set opener, with the rhythm section of Johnson, Patterson and Wellman in perfect sync. Miles flies free with some solo lines before the head appears, and Kenny Garrett makes his first appearance with a lengthy solo. Garrett (who has a new Mack Avenue studio album in August) is like a heat seeking missile, the rhythm section responding and creating inner dialogues with him in response to his impassioned, pulpit stirring cries. Deron Johnson, often alongside with Garrett in taking some of the best solos of the evening, briefly dialogues with Miles before spinning off into his own, substantial solo turn. Johnson is a complete history of the keyboardist’s who played with the trumpeter and distills everything in his sparkling, distinctive soloing voice, swinging slightly behind the beat against the mightily funky bass and drums underneath.

“Human Nature”, the classic ballad from Michael Jackson’s Thriller (Epic, 1982) Davis first debuted on You’re Under Arrest (Columbia, 1985). The sensuous existential track became a blank canvas for the Davis band to paint on nightly. The trumpeter renders the melody with longing, then gradually shifts into a resourceful solo with a double time sprint. Within Davis’ solo and the use of Spanish tinged scales, and the colorful keyboard backing, the intense drama of the beautiful arrangements that Gil Evans crafted for Sketches of Spain (Columbia, 1959) which Marcus Miller expanded upon in a sense for the film soundtrack Siesta (Warner Bros, 1989) are clearly felt. Davis quotes “Nature Boy” and a few other asides before passing the baton to Garrett, who used the tune as a nightly feature for intense late period Coltrane trance like meditation. Garrett fits in a quote of the old spiritual “Joshua Fit De Battle of Jericho” before rocketing into space; Wellman in particular follows him wherever he goes. Every now and then Miles jabs some mood setting chords with his Oberheim OBX synth as cues, while Garrett continues to combust. The saxophonist bursting at the seams as a fragment from the bridge to “Milestones” is used as an ostinato, Davis signals a quick blast with his trumpet and the tune ends. Garrett brought the audience and listeners at home on a thrill ride.

“Time After Time” , the Cyndi Lauper classic is ushered in as volcanic applause erupts from the audience, nearly drowning out the music. For 9 and a half minutes, the show belongs to Davis, as he gently finds all the melodic contours he can in the tune. Like “Round Midnight” and “My Funny Valentine” of decades past, “Time After Time” became one of Davis’ signature ballads. He drives his improvisation the same way as Aretha Franklin, Pavarotti, Bocelli or Carreras would, with a marked sense of passion and timeless beauty.

Disc 1 closes with one of the Prince tunes, “Penetration” where everyone gets off on the raunchy funk. Davis and Garrett are one during the track, and it truly shows the admiration and border less musicality that both icons would have shared, Davis struts with swagger between melody statements and Johnson rips into his solo with passion, Garrett’s searing alto ups the ante further. As a contrast, “Jailbait” on disc 2, is a gut bucket blues where both Johnson and Garrett take scintillating solos..

The show closes with “Wrinkle” a wondrous maze of a melody that is awe inspiring when played a top speed, and “Finale” a drum solo feature for Wellman that showcases his patented bass drum triplets while keeping rock solid time on the snare, a sort of shuffle where the bass and snare switch roles, and some lightning samba as well as his signature Go-Go groove.

Sound:

Merci Miles is taken directly from the original tapes recorded and mixed by Patrick Savey and Mastered by John Webber at Air Studios in London. Similar to Sony/Legacy’s Bootleg Series releases for Davis, the tape is from the official broadcast, in this case captured by the small Zycopolis studios. Curiously for 1991, the sound is mono which could be due to whatever technical limitations of the tape, but it is very good strong mono. The Schiit Bifrost 2 DAC manages to wring out very nice separation for the band in the mono soundstage: In particular, Davis trumpet is vibrant, brassy, golden and present. Richard Patterson’s bass is commanding and takes the center of the sound stage, deep and rich. Ricky Wellman’s drums are full of gusto, there is a reason his nickname was “Sugarfoot” and you hear that in all it’s glory. Kenny Garrett’s passion radiates past the speakers, Deron Johnson’s keyboards float above the proceedings and Foley’s lead bass provides a wonderful textural contrast to everything else.

Concluding Thoughts:

The 80’s and early 90’s Miles cannon has seen relatively scant archival releases versus everything from the 50’s-70’s. Merci Miles is a welcome document of a band that truly was at the top of it’s game and at the peak of its powers. Miles Davis, judging from this concert was showing little sign of slowing down in his playing, there is a vitality and joy here that easily places this alongside his Montreux concerts of the period and the excellent Live Around The World (Warner Brothers, 1996). A wonderful present honoring the great musical icon thirty years on from his passing. The CD (reviewed here) and LP packages contain some particularly touching photos in a triple gatefold in the French Flag colors of Miles memorabilia from that final tour provided by Vince Wilburn, Jr and a superb liner essay from noted scholar Ashley Kahn contextualizing the history of the trumpeter’s French sojourns and the event itself, alongside some great photos. The cover also features some nice embossing of the album title text and Davis’ name. If there is any doubt about physical media, this album is a compelling case for why it’s so good to OWN a physical copy of an album.

Music: 10/10

Sound: 8.5/10

Equipment used for this review

Audiolab 6000 CDT transport

Schiit Bifrost 2 DAC

Marantz NR 1200 stereo receiver (as pre amp)

Marantz MM 7025 stereo power amplifier

Focal Chora 826 speakers

Audioquest Forest and Golden Gate cables

youtube

#miles davis #jazz #trumpet #prince #funk

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imperialstark · 4 years

Text

i’ll never make it alone

a/n: part 2 to oh! darling, although it’s not necessary to read that fic in order to read this one. already posted on ao3, just felt like posting it here too bc i crave validation

summary: Tony and Steve bond over a sleepless night.

rating: T, just for a few swears and mental health

warning(s): mainly hints of characters exhibiting PTSD and panic attacks, but hopefully nothing too triggering

The tower was too quiet. Steve never thought he’d miss the roar of train cars passing through Brooklyn or hearing the daily hustle and bustle of the city. New York had been the city that never slept, even in Steve’s day.

Sleeping through the war had been easier than sleeping in the tower, he decided, staring up at the stark white ceiling from the comfort of his bed. Trains to tanks. Hustle and bustle to screams and moans. The war had taught him to fear the quiet moments. There had been no respites or breaks for them, and if things were going too well, it was only going to go to shit later. It had been a fact of life then, and Steve believed in it now.

Goosebumps sprouted like weeds on his arms as the air conditioning kicked on. He tried to ignore it, he really did, but ever since coming out of the ice, he had a hard time staying warm. Steve wasn’t anemic by any means, and yet, even the slightest breeze could set him off.

“Hey, JARVIS?” he asked, the words sounding clumsy in his mouth.

“Yes, Captain Rogers?” came a smooth, distinctly British voice, which, according to Tony, was not in the ceiling.

“Could you turn the air off in my room? Please?”

The AI sounded puzzled. “Are you sure, sir? It’s quite warm out.”

“Please,” Steve repeated. His stomach twisted into a knot. What if JARVIS said no? How would he be able to explain anything to a being who had never known real life and the anguish that came with it?

“...As you wish, sir.”

The air went off with one swift whoosh.

Steve inhaled and closed his eyes. A super-soldier could survive off of less sleep than the average human, but that didn’t mean he liked being sleep-deprived. But the air had already worked its magic. When Steve closed his eyes, all he saw was black water glinting like glass in the sun; An icy abyss calling his name. Cold crept into his lungs, frost coated his skin, and there was that familiar burn only ice could give you, engulfing his blood—

His eyes shot open. The beat of his heart echoed in his ears, sounding too close and too loud. Sleep was going to be a long way off. Throwing his blankets back, Steve sat up and sighed.

“Just one night,” he said to no one in particular. “I just want one night.”

“If you’d like, Captain,” JARVIS said, startling Steve. He didn’t know that the AI could speak unprompted. “Sir is currently in the communal kitchen if you want company.”

“Sir?” His brows furrowed. “Stark?” His panic momentarily forgotten, Steve slid out of bed completely, not really sure where he was going. A session in the gym with one of Stark’s super-soldier grade punching bags sounded swell, but if Stark was in the kitchen, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to seek him out and talk about...something.

He and the tower’s resident genius were on their way to becoming friends. Maybe. Possibly. They were close to becoming whatever came before friends. Most of Steve’s friends hadn’t insulted him and offered him a place to sleep free of charge in the same breath. But Tony Stark was a genius; maybe being eccentric was a requirement.

“What’s he doing up at—“Steve glanced at the clock, “two in the morning?”

“Sir believes that sleep, and I quote, is ‘for the weak.’”

Steve snorted, his mouth turning into an unwitting smile. Eccentric, indeed.

Mind made up, Steve made his way to the kitchen, a blanket wrapped securely around his shoulders. The air was still going full blast outside of his room. Steve gritted his teeth and pulled the blanket tighter around him. “I’m never running out of shields,” he thought.

The elevator ride to the communal kitchen was over all too quickly, and Steve was greeted to the sight of Tony fluttering from counter to counter. Oddly enough, Tony didn’t look out of place in the kitchen, despite having heard many, many horror stories of his past attempts at cooking.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said in greeting, hovering on the edge of the threshold.

Tony paused mid-flurry and gave him the smallest of smiles. There was something fragile about it that had the edge of broken glass.

“Hey, Steve,” Tony said, nodding at him. “Nice blanket.”

The blanket had been a gag gift, courtesy of Natasha, of course, of Steve in his full USO regalia.

“I had it custom made,” she had said with a smirk, which for Natasha, might as well have been her beaming with pride.

“Thanks,” Steve said, and the conversation died just as soon as it had begun.

Tony started to fidget in place, the silence growing unbearable. Despite living together for three months now, awkwardness still clouded their interactions outside of the battlefield.

“Um,” Steve began. “What are you doing up?”

A shadow passed over Tony’s face, but as quickly as it had appeared, Tony broke out into a grin, and it was gone. “Innovation doesn’t have a curfew, Rogers. Don’t tell me a sketch has never kept you up?”

Steve blinked. “You know that I draw?”

“Of course I do,” Tony said, resuming his motions around the kitchen. “You leave your sketchbooks all over the tower.”

His cheeks burned. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

“Please, you? Inconvenience me? You’re talking to the king of inconveniences. Besides,” Tony shrugged as he measured out a few tablespoons of what looked like fresh ground coffee. “You’re good.”

“Thanks,” he said. He was getting all kinds of compliments tonight. “I was in art school before…”

“Everything,” Tony finished.

“Everything,” Steve agreed.

A silence fell over them again. Tony dumped the coffee grounds into a silver Moka pot and set it on the stove.

“You know why I’m up,” Tony said, leaning back against the counter. “But what about you? What’s keeping you awake?”

Steve weighed his options. He could tell Tony the truth, tell him that his brain was fucked, tell him how he couldn’t stand the cold without picturing himself plunging to his death.

Or, he could lie.

“It’s too quiet,” he blurted out. “The tower,” he gestured around them. “It’s...quiet.” That was close enough to the truth, at least.

Tony, thankfully, didn’t laugh at him. “I thought soundproofing the walls would be a good idea. Don’t know too many people who enjoy city life for the noise.”

“I grew up by the tracks,” Steve found himself saying. “It wasn’t the best neighborhood, but it was one of the only places that would rent out to the Irish.”

That was one of the strangest parts of the future. In Steve’s time, the Irish, along with the Italians and the Jewish had been second-class citizens. A step of above people of color, in the eyes of bigots, but only just. All of them had been an afterthought in the collective consciousness of WASP America.

“I knew that,” Tony said, his voice going low. The Moka pot bubbled away on the stovetop, the rich smell of coffee, hitting Steve’s nose.

“You seem to know an awful lot about me,” Steve said.

“Your buddy, Howard, thought tales about his old war pals were appropriate bedtime stories for a child.”

Steve frowned. A bitter note had seeped into their conversation that always occurred whenever Howard was brought up in Tony’s presence. Steve may have known the man during the war, but that didn’t mean he was the same man who Tony had called “Father”. During the war, Howard had always been loud. Flashy. The most conspicuous person in the room.

“That man wouldn’t know the meaning of subtlety if it whacked him over the head with a frying pan,” he remembered Peggy saying, her crimson lips pursed in distaste as Howard chatted up an SSR secretary.

“Why a frying pan?” Steve had mused.

“They’re sturdy, for one,” she had said, matter-of-factly. “And quite hard to miss.”

Steve remembered the secretary had slapped Howard upside his head after one too many risqué remarks. In hindsight, Peggy was right, not that Steve ever doubted her. A frying pan would have been just as, if not more, sufficient.

That man had apparently settled down and raised a child who was staring at him with something dark and dangerous pooling in his eyes. Steve would have to tread carefully.

“As smart as he was, he didn’t have much sense, did he?” he said with all the caution of someone approaching a stray animal.

Tony’s posture lost some of its rigidity. “No. He didn’t.”

Silence again. If someone asked him, he couldn’t tell them why, but at that moment, Steve wanted to hear what Tony had to say. About anything. About everything.

“Stop lurking in the shadows like a creep,” Tony said. “Unless you’re trying to do a Fury impersonation, then by all means continue. You’re missing the eyepatch, though.”

Steve huffed, but even he couldn’t hide his amusement. The thought of Fury sitting in the dark with a fuzzy blanket draped over him instead of his usual leather duster made for a decidedly less intimidating picture. And if Tony was joking around, then the danger of mentioning Howard had passed. Steve entered the kitchen completely and took a seat at the island right across from where Tony stood.

“You’re drinking coffee at two in the morning?” he said, arching a brow as Tony took the now whistling Moka pot off the burner.

“Not coffee,” Tony corrected. “Marocchino,” he said, placing a can of cocoa powder onto the counter.

“Still has caffeine,” Steve said, mainly because Tony was so easy to rile up.

“‘Still has caffeine’,” Tony mocked, his voice going up a pitch. “That’s what you sound like. Don’t you chastise me, Rogers.”

Steve chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “My apologies,” he said. “Must be an important project.”

“All of my projects are important,” Tony said. He pulled a glass out from under the island, paused as if he were pondering something, then pulled out a second glass.

Steve drank in every sure movement of Tony’s as he dusted both glasses in cocoa powder, and carefully poured the steaming espresso and milk into each cup. He sprinkled more cocoa over the top of each glass with a flourish before pushing one towards Steve.

“Drink up, Cap.”

Steve gingerly grabbed the cup and blew at the steam.

Tony held his glass in front of him. “Toast?”

“What are we toasting?”

“To sleepless nights,” Tony said, sounding perhaps more serious than Steve had ever heard him. “And the things that keep us up.”

As Tony looked at him with those dark eyes of his, his glass aloft, he realized this wasn’t Tony Stark, CEO. Tony Stark, son of a legend. Not even Tony Stark, Avenger. This was Tony Stark without a mask.

“To sleepless nights,” Steve echoed. Their glasses met with the lightest of clinks. Steve’s fingers brushed against Tony’s as he pulled his drink away. It was nothing, really. Barely a glance. And yet a light jolt zipped through his fingertips and left him feeling unsettled.

If Tony had also been shocked, he made no mention of it, instead downing his espresso with gusto. Steve watched the bob of Tony’s throat, feeling hot beneath the collar. The coffee was already getting to him, and he hadn’t even taken a sip yet.

Steve took his espresso like a shot. The coffee surged through him, driving away the cold that had settled into his bones. The cocoa was sweet and creamy on his tongue. Of course, Tony wouldn’t waste money on the cheap imitation stuff made with powdered milk.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Tony asked, his eyes twinkling.

Steve burst out laughing, maybe the first genuine laugh he’d managed since coming out of the ice. At that moment, ice and the cold were the furthest things from his mind.

“Even better,” he said, perhaps too earnestly, but that was between him and God. “I wouldn’t mind a refill.”

Tony’s answering smile was blinding. His eyes were all crinkled in the corners, the way they did whenever Tony was truly happy. Not that Steve spent a lot of time memorizing Tony’s smiles.

The tension from earlier had (hopefully) disappeared for good.

“He should always smile like that,” Steve thought. Tony’s smile could drive a blizzard away.

They sat there for the rest of the night until the sun crept over the horizon, flooding the kitchen with light and something warm and golden had curled in Steve’s chest.

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #mcu #stony fic #stony fanfic #my fic #my writing #imperialstark fic #imperialstark writing

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sofhyuck · 5 years

Text

Go Stupid

Genre: college!Jeno, college!reader, fluff, dumb shit

Word count: 4.3k

Excerpt: “You’re so cute, you know that, right?” Your laughter finally died down, giving you room to speak again. “Why would I give you my number if I didn’t want to keep talking to you? I thought you seemed fun to talk to at the party so I gave you my number.”

Jeno’s brain couldn’t compute a better answer other than, “oh.” His friends stared on in disbelief; there was no doubt in Jeno’s mind that a sharp “I told you so” was on the tip of Renjun’s tongue.

A/N: This is basically a Mark fic disguised as a Jeno fic

Jeno wasn’t drunk. Well, he could still tell he was talking to Jaemin and Renjun, about what he wasn’t completely sure, and for him that was good enough. The three were huddled closely together by the drinks in hopes of being able to hear one another over the pounding bass resonating throughout the frat house. His focus wandered from the conversation to the mass of writhing bodies then back to his friends, a small voice at the back of his head wondering where Donghyuck had wandered off to. Probably to do another keg stand in hopes of impressing Mark. It never worked.

Renjun nudged Jeno in the side, pointing towards the other side of the room with a roll of his eyes. Sure enough, there was Yukhei holding Hyuck up as the crowd around them chanted his name. Mark was busy trying not to throw up from nerves - and probably the four shots of tequila he had downed earlier - whilst talking to a cute girl on the outskirts of the small circle that had formed. Jeno shook his head and turned away from the spectacle, both amused and embarrassed by Donghyuck’s desperation for approval from his older friends.

You weren’t drunk. You had only had one shot and could count every string light hung around the room; there were upwards of fifty. Unfortunately, your friend was completely blasted and you were her only chaperone for the night. Prying her away from a greasy senior boy who was getting a bit too handsy, you brought her over to the kitchen sink just as she doubled over to vomit up a third of the drinks sitting in her stomach. You patted her back mindlessly, gazing blankly ahead of you at the multi-colored star shaped string lights strung haphazardly on the wall across from you. Why a frat decided to have so many goddamn lights was beyond you, but at least they were pretty. They’d probably be prettier if you weren’t stuck holding your friend’s hair away from her face. After staring at the blue star that had half gone out - third one from the left, next to the spastic pink star - your vision began to blur and you lazily blinked to clear the haze.

Your friend stood up straight, mumbling something about wanting to leave. Grabbing her arm you pulled out your phone with your free hand, checking for the nearest Uber. It seemed as though everyone else on campus was either leaving or going to a party for the closest Uber was twenty five minutes away. With a heavy sigh you ordered it, groaning at the high rates of a busy Friday night. Dragging your friend behind you, you weaved through the crowd, attempting to make your way to the door. You had almost made it, the door in your sights, but a group of boys blocked your way from escaping the sweaty, beer scented Hell you were currently stuck in.

“Excuse me.” You called out, gripping your friends arm tightly to ensure she didn’t wander off. There was no response, the boys continued to laugh and talk boisterously, oblivious to your fuming state.

“EXCUSE ME!” You yelled this time, determined to be heard above the din caused by shitty trap music and clashing conversations.

Jeno turned to face you and was about to step to the side until he looked at your face. Fuck, you had a really pretty face. He stood frozen in place, eyes wide and unmoving. You raised an eyebrow at him and he finally took notice of how angry you looked. Still pretty, though. He had to say something, he knew that. In a split second his brain whirred to life and spit out the first thing it could come up with.

“You’re like really fucking pretty.” His face immediately reddened upon realizing what exactly he had blurted out and Jaemin and Renjun turned to face you at their friend’s sudden outburst.

“Um, thank you? Now, unless you want my friend here to throw up all over you, I’m going to ask you to kindly get the fuck out of my way.”

Jeno jerked his head in acknowledgment and stepped out of the way, his gaze never losing you. You couldn’t help but think how weird he was as you finally made it outside. Cute, but really fucking weird. Renjun broke into a fit of laughter at his friend’s expense, amused to no end by Jeno’s uncharacteristically awkward interaction. Jeno, now determined to mend his floundering, brushed past his friends to follow you outside. There he found you leaning against the porch railing whilst your friend leaned over it, the sounds of her retching filling the night air. You looked up at the sound of the screen door opening and closing only to see the boy who had just practically confessed to you. Glancing at your phone to check the status of the Uber, Jeno fumbled with his fingers, debating his next move. The door opened behind him and he lurched forward, pushed by someone rushing to join your friend in puking over the railing. He stumbled towards you, figuring that he might as well keep moving before his nerves once again glued him in place.

“Is your friend ok?” His voice pulled your attention away from your phone.

“Yea, this isn’t the first time this has happened.” You sighed, putting your phone away, bored with watching the arrival time of your Uber flirting around the twenty minute mark.

“Do you want me to get her some water? We have bottled, no risk of tampering.” He added upon noticing the skeptical look that settled across your face.

“Sure, that’d be great.” You replied, chewing on your lip once he disappeared back inside. You quickly glanced at your phone. Sixteen minutes.

“Here you are.” The screen door slid open to reveal Jeno holding up a full bottle of water.

“Thanks.” Taking the bottle from his hand, you inspected it sligtlhy, just to be safe. After all, you didn’t even know his name.

“I’m Jeno, by the way.”

It surprised you how easily he slipped into conversation after his previous blunder. He acted as though it had never happened.

“Y/n.” You gave him a blunt reply, opening the bottle and handing it to your friend, encouraging her to drink from it. “Are you a brother?”

“I’m rushing with a few of my friends, we’re friends with a lot of the brothers though.”

“That’s cool.” You hummed. “Greek life has always sketched me out a little, especially after all those sorority videos that keep popping up on Twitter.” Jeno chuckled at how you physically shuddered at the thought, remembering himself the semi demonic chants recited by tens of sorority girls.

“I guess it’s a little weird, but I think we’re a pretty chill frat compared to others. I mean, we’ve got Mark Lee and he couldn’t hurt a fly if he tried.” Jeno shrugged.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shit on you. I just can’t see myself living in that kind of atmosphere.”

“No, it’s fine, there are definitely way too many shitty frats out there.”

“I will say I’ve enjoyed the parties I’ve attended here, despite always having to leave because of this one.” You remarked, patting your friend on the back who promptly flashed you her middle finger.

“Oh, you’ve been to other parties? How come I’ve never seen you before?” Despite being well past tipsy at nearly ever party he had been to, Jeno was positive he wouldn’t forget a face like yours. Sure, he’d seen and danced with pretty faces before, but yours was one he couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to, and he definitely didn’t want to.

“I never really know when the parties are happening here so I’ve only come to a few. But the ones I’ve been to have been fun. I think I should try to find another party buddy so that I can fully enjoy them, though.” You gazed at your friend out of the corner of your eye, her slumped figure signaling that she was nearly passed out on the railing. There was no way you were going to let her drink for the rest of the semester; her kidneys couldn’t survive much more.

“Oh, I can let you know when the parties are happening, if that’s ok? Mark always keeps us updated.” Jeno offered, heart picking up at the thought of having your phone number in his possession.

“That would actually be so great! You could even be my new party buddy!” You exclaimed, fishing your phone out of your pocket and opening up a new contact, handing the device over to him. With shaking hands Jeno took your phone, his fingertips brushing against yours, sending sparks through his body. He hastily typed in his phone number, having to reenter it a few times before finally getting it right, silently cursing his thumbs for their sudden paralysis the whole time. As Jeno passed the phone back to you, a notification popped up alerting you that your Uber was a minute away. You glanced at your friends unconscious figure and your shoulders slumped, wondering how the hell you were going to tow her body out front.

“I can help you.” Jeno offered as you situated one of her arms over your shoulder.

“That would be amazing.” You smiled as Jeno made his way over, wrapping his arm around her waist. The two of you made your way around to the front of the house where your Uber awaited. Dumping your friend into the backseat, you thanked Jeno and clambered in behind her, sending him a wave as you shut the door behind you.

❃❃❃❃

Jeno had received a text from you that same night and three days had passed with no response from him. He reasoned that you only wanted him to contact you about parties; nothing more and nothing less. However, that didn’t stop him from thinking about you 24/7, constantly locking and unlocking his phone to read over and over again the single text you had sent.

Hey, this is Y/n from the party last night! Thanks again sm for helping me and my friend out <3

That stupid little heart had sent him into a frenzy of flapping arms and embarrassingly high pitched squeaks whilst he, Jaemin, Renjun, and Haechan were cleaning up after the party - part of the grueling initiation process into the frat - and his three friends had stared at him out of both concern and curiosity. Mostly out of concern. Once Jeno had calmed down and the threat of his flailing limbs disappeared, Renjun was the first to interrogate him. Upon revealing the heart attack inducing text to his friends, the three encouraged him to continue the conversation, after a copious amount of teasing at Jeno’s expense, of course. However, Jeno was a stubborn headass - Renjun’s exact words - and had already convinced himself that, no, you didn’t actually want to be his friend, and refused to respond.

Donghyuck had told Mark right away, to no one’s surprise, and the older immediately pulled open your Instagram, remembering that you had shared a class the previous semester and occasionally studied together. Jeno had immediately snatched the phone out of Mark’s hand, earning him a sharp “Hey!” from Mark, but Jeno could hardly care. Opening his own phone, Jeno searched for your Instagram. Private. He hesitated before requesting to follow you. Ten gruelling minutes passed before he got the notification that you had accepted his request, even requesting to follow back, much to Jeno’s delight. His friends tried to emphasize that this only further proved that you wanted to be his friend, but again their reasoning was to no avail. He spent the rest of his morning scrolling through your feed, Donghyuck not so gently referring to him as a stalker, but Jeno only brushed off his teasing, too immersed in your travels the previous summer, pausing a little longer at every swimsuit-clad picture you had posted. How perfect could one person get?

You kept gazing at the single message you had sent to Jeno, the daunting read 8:16 a.m. stared back at you, taunting you. What kind of idiot calls you, quote, ‘really fucking pretty,’ follows you on Instagram, and then promptly leaves you on read less than six hours later? You had sent him a heart, goddammit. It frustrated you to no end and left you in a sour mood for the rest of the weekend. Your friend, who spent almost twenty four hours in bed before returning to the land of the living, groggily looked over your shoulder as you casually scrolled through Jeno’s Instagram. She didn’t remember him at all but that didn’t stop her from commenting on how attractive he was, not that you couldn’t see that for yourself, further rubbing salt into the wound that Jeno’s lack of response had left behind. Eventually you came to the conclusion that all men are idiots, especially the attractive ones, and pulled yourself back into your studies. There was a test on Tuesday that you had to study for anyways.

❃❃❃❃

Tuesday morning you woke up late. You made it just in time for your exam at the expense of breakfast. Luckily for you, the exam was a breeze and you finished forty five minutes before the class was scheduled to end. Stomach grumbling, you rushed towards the dining hall. It was weird going to lunch so early; the dining hall had just began to serve lunch and hardly anyone was inside. You could hardly care, your empty stomach taking hold of your actions and leading you straight towards the buffet. Filling your tray with probably way more food than you’d actually be able to stomach, you turned to scan the tables, deliberating over which of the empty tables you would take a seat at.

Jeno’s friends would not let him live. The conversation had started simple: discussing dinner plans for Friday night, a small hangout with some of the frat brothers. Then Donghyuck suggested Jeno invite you and all hell broke loose. Did you text back yet? Seriously you haven’t? Get your shit together dude! It’s obvious there was something going on there! Sometimes you can be really dense, man. By the time they had arrived at the dining hall Jeno had completely tuned them out, focusing instead on what he was going to eat for lunch. Much to his relief, the conversation shifted when they all sat down at their usual table - right by the wall of windows so that they could people watch to their hearts’ content - and Jeno was able to breathe easy again. He lazily scanned the dining hall, half-heartedly nodding his head in agreeance to Jaemin’s claims of being the smartest out of the group.

“I make the plans and get your lazy asses to actually come out!”

“Yea, but who always saves our asses when we always end up in some deep shit? Me, that’s who! Therefore I’m the smartest. Tell him I’m right, Jeno.” Renjun argued, sending a desperate look in Jeno’s direction.

“I don’t know which of you is the smartest, but I do know that it certainly isn’t Hyuck.” Jeno chuckled at Donghyuck’s whining as he turned back to people watching. Then he saw you scanning the crowd. He was just about to duck down, hide away from your curious gaze, when your eyes met his. Jeno froze.

There he was. The big idiot who had been ignoring you for the past few days. Your eyes narrowed into a glare. Standing up tall, you set your sights directly onto where he sat, his eyes blown wide, frozen in shock at your approaching figure. His friends, having noticed Jeno’s odd demeanor, had followed his gaze, his whole posse now staring as you stopped in front of him.

“Mind if I sit?” You smiled politely, gaze unwavering from Jeno’s. A series of mumbled “no”s and “it’s fine”s chorused around the table and you slid into the vacant seat beside Jeno. Situating yourself, you took your bag off and neatly arranged your food before turning to reaffix your glare onto Jeno. Jeno fidgeted in his seat, unsure of what exactly was about to happen.

“So,” you started, “why haven’t you texted back?”

Jeno gulped, any possible traces of confidence now long gone.

“I thought, I mean when I asked for your number, I figured you only wanted me to text you about parties? And that was it?”

You couldn’t help but gape at his confession, completely aghast at how dumb he was proving to be. Your disbelief, however, quickly morphed into amusement and you couldn’t help but laugh at Jeno’s expense. Sure he was a little dumb, but he was also way too cute to stay mad at. Jeno’s cheeks reddened at your fit of laughter, embarrassed yet flustered by how adorable your laughter was.

“You’re so cute, you know that, right?” Your laughter finally died down, giving you room to speak again. “Why would I give you my number if I didn’t want to keep talking to you? I thought you seemed fun to talk to at the party so I gave you my number.”

“It’s not a party but we’re planning on going out to dinner this Friday with some of the brothers if you wanna come.” Jeno’s head whipped towards Renjun, a smug smirk residing on the latters face. “Mark says he knows you, too, so it’s not weird if you just show up.”

Your face lit up at the mention of Mark. His idiocy rivalled that of Jeno’s, but it only made him all the more endearing.

“I’d love to come if it’s ok with you guys!” You grinned, glancing around the table.

Everyone nodded in agreement, happy to have you join in on the fun and make Jeno even more of a stuttering, blushing mess. Jeno nodded robotically, still in slight shock from your unexpected interrogation. Turning pointedly to once again face Jeno, you leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand, a coy smile settling over your features.

“Don’t forget to text me, ok?”

“Y-yea, I won’t.” Jeno stuttered out, his face flushing an impossibly deeper shade of red.

“Good.” You smiled, a genuine one this time, and his heart fluttered. He wouldn’t be able to ignore you even if he tried. And he wasn’t planning on trying any longer.

❃❃❃❃

Jeno couldn’t tear his eyes away from the front door, his left leg bouncing uncontrollably. You had texted him sixteen minutes and thirty three seconds ago that you were on your way, and he knew that it took at least ten minutes to get to the restaurant from campus. Were you ok? Did you get in an accident? It was raining out, the roads could be slippery, maybe you were listening to music and couldn’t hear—

“Yo! Lover boy! Snap out of it man you’re worrying way too much.” Renjun called out to him from where he sat across the table. Jeno jolted out of his spiralling, turning back to face the boys. You and Mark were the only two who had yet to arrive - by now it was expected Mark would be late - and Jeno had been on edge the entire day. Hell, he’d been on edge since you sat next to him during lunch earlier that week; he just couldn’t get you out of his head. He had arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes before they had agreed to, too anxious to keep waiting idly in his dorm room. Renjun was next to arrive, not so subtly rolling his eyes upon seeing Jeno sat at a large table, fiddling with a straw wrapper whilst trying not to check his phone every five seconds. Haechan and Jaemin were right behind him. Yukhei had come in surprisingly on time, dragging Sicheng along behind him. That left you and Mark.

“They better come soon, I’m getting hungry.” Donghyuck grumbled, fiddling with his already empty glass of coke.

“Wasn’t it your idea to wait until everyone arrived to order?” Renjun shot back.

“Yea, well, that was yesterday when I thought I was gonna be the last one to show up. Jeno, why can’t you text your girlfriend to hurry up?”

“S-she’s not my girlfriend!” Jeno spluttered, sitting up straight in his seat.

“Not yet.” Renjun smirked. The door opened before Jeno could respond and you came rushing in, wiping your damp feet on the welcome mat whilst shaking out your umbrella.

“Sorry I’m late!” You panted slightly, plopping down into the space directly in front of Jeno. “I ran into Mark along the way and, well he needed a little help—”

The door once again burst open, revealing a very wet and panting Mark.

“I fell.” He grinned sheepishly, dropping his dipping backpack onto the floor beside the table before taking a seat. Jeno couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your hair slightly damp - probably from when you stopped to help Mark - yet a bright smile painted across your face. Even the gloomiest days couldn’t diminish your glow. You looked over to him and your smile brightened tenfold; Jeno swore he could have gone blind.

“Great, now we can finally order!” Donghyuck cheered, flagging down the nearest waitress who looked none too thrilled to be serving a table filled with rowdy college students. Everyone placed their respective order, Jeno nearly forgetting his side of fries because he was too busy stealing not so subtle glances at you. The waitress left your table, grumbling over the sheer amount of food you had ordered, and you all fell back into conversation.

You lightly kick Jeno in the shin under the table to gain his attention. “How’s your week been?”

“Oh, it was fine,” he startled, embarrassed by how blatantly he had just been staring at you, “pretty normal, I guess. How about you, did you get that test back from Tuesday?”

“I’m surprised you remembered that,” you rose your eyebrows. “We didn’t get it back yet, but our professor said the average has been high so far so, fingers crossed!”

“Of course I remember, you were freaking out about it all Wednesday night!”

“I wasn’t freaking out, I was merely expressing my nerves.” You flushed, recalling how frantic you had been during your Facetime call with him the other night.

“Don’t worry, it was cute.” Jeno grinned. The two of you had been texting and Facetiming a fair amount over the past few days and Jeno found himself growing more and more relaxed around you, allowing him to slip into his regular annoyingly charming persona. Not that you minded.

“So annoying.” You muttered under your breath, struggling to hide the smile threatening to break through. Jeno laughed at your frustration but you chose to ignore him, turning your attention towards the slightly heated conversation between Donghyuck and Yukhei. The topic of said conversation: how many straws they could fit into their mouths.

“You shouldn’t put any in your mouth, save the turtles!” Jaemin rallied.

“You know there have been several studies done on how that will do very little to help the environment and rather we should focus on pressuring the big corporations to change their policies—” Renjun was cut off by an even louder “save the turtles!” from Jaemin.

“The only real way to settle this argument is to actually do it.” Sicheng shrugged, knowing exactly how he was feeding the fire. You shot Jeno a look, silently asking if they were actually dumb enough to follow through with Sicheng’s suggestion. Mark’s call of “I’ll keep count” answered for him. You watched on in awe as the pair began to unwrap the plastic straws and shove them into their mouths, Jaemin weakly trying to remind them of the turtles whilst everyone else egged them on. Jeno’s gaze fluttered between the grotesque scene and your twisted look of disgust and intrigue. The way you wrinkled your nose, your mouth frozen in a gaping half smile, caused Jeno to smile to himself.

“Twenty nine holy shit.” Mark announced, the whole table cheering for Yukhei’s accomplishment whilst Donghyuck slumped back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was close!” He whined and you patted him on the back.

“Twenty four is still pretty good.” You consoled him, laughing as he leaned his head on your shoulder.

“At least someone knows how to show some compassion around here.”

“More like someone hasn’t grown immune to your pouting yet.” Renjun shot back, Donghyuck sticking his tongue out at the former. You locked eyes with Jeno, jokingly rolling your eyes at the antics of your friends. Jeno shook his head in return, eyes filled with mirth. The food arrived, your waitress visibly disgruntled with all the stray straw wrappers strewn across the table. Renjun, taking note of how you and Jeno couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of each other, nudged Jaemin in the side, jerking his head towards you. Soon enough the whole table was half paying attention to the two of you, still attempting to maintain their normal conversation. Whenever someone did or said something - specifically Mark and Donghyuck - Jeno would look towards you to gauge your reaction only to find you already looking at him. And, of course, the others watched the whole interaction.

“This is almost sickening.” Renjun mumbled, eyeing the two of you in disgust.

“Aw, come on, it’s cute!” Jaemin chimed in.

“Do you think they’ll ever come back to join us in the real world?”

“Probably not.” The whole table - sans you and Jeno - turned to look at Sicheng. “They’re just two oblivious idiots in love.”

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