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ellemfaoh · 1 year

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Pinball, Hair, and Detention Epilogue | Vance Hopper x Reader

(I’m too lazy to link all the other parts rn)

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Recovery

Content Warnings: Shitily Written Panic Attacks, Out Of Character Vance

Summary: You go back to school shortly after your discharge from the hospital but now everything is different. Classmates, teachers, faculty, and parents see you differently; but in a positive way. You’re the badass who got rid of the Grabber, the badass who escaped what could’ve been certain death, the badass that’s crazy paranoid now and behaves totally different from before.

A/N: A short epilogue to Pinball, Hair, and Detention was requested; so naturally I’d write it. The love I got for this series was crazy and I’m glad you all liked it! I’ll be working on some of my requests after this, so expect some oneshots now.

——————————————

Discharge from the hospital and adjustment into normal life again was very weird. You hadn’t seen your town in just over ten days so it couldn’t have changed much—but in your eyes everything was different. Cars parked on the street were swimming with malice, shortcuts you had once taken through the small town were traps waiting for some dumb kid to come through, and adults who stared at you for longer than a glance were people who were plotting your kidnapping. You’d started therapy with the hospital psychiatrist weekly on Friday afternoons and she was a great help in getting you started to what would soon be your ‘norm’ again.

Walking into school alongside your friends was what she had suggested and it helped a ton. Bruce kept you too occupied to focus on the attention you got in the hallway. You didn’t hear the whispers of ‘(Y/N) is actually back?’ or, ‘She actually lived? That’s crazy.’

“And then Amy threw my ball into our neighbors backyard! Imagine how embarrassed I was when I tried to quickly hop the fence and saw Mrs. Francis sunbathing.”

You laughed, patting Bruce’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you just knock on her door and ask for it back?”

The boy paused in step, his mind running because he clearly didn’t think that incident through. “Oh.”

You both walked down the hall for a little more as you waited for school to start, Bruce doing a good job distracting you while you did a good job in attracting attention. It wasn’t like it was on purpose—people just wanted to talk about the kid who escaped The Grabber and clearly didn’t think how their words might make you feel. When the bell rang and students started rushing through the halls to get to their classes, you sighed. You supposed one bonus of getting kidnapped for around a week was that you missed school.

“I’ll catch you up on everything Biology, don’t worry (Y/N).” Bruce smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a sort of protective manner as he brought you close to him. “No need to fear, the ever charismatic and heroic Bruce Yamada will be your biggest helper.”

“Gee, I’m so excited.” You said in a sarcastic manner.

You tried to ignore the prickling feeling of stares on your back. You couldn’t help but pay special attention to the staring now—all it reminded you of was the masked man sitting close or far from you as he watched you ‘sleep.’ Your hand squeezed Bruce’s a little tighter, a subconscious effort to feel close and comforted by your friend.

——————

You barely made it to lunch when Vance approached you. It was weird when he didn’t show up for all of second period, but you just assumed he was skipping or got in trouble or something. You had been walking over to the cafeteria line when the blonde put his hand on your shoulder, a gruff but gentle ‘hey’ coming from him before you swung around and punched him in the chest.

It took you a moment to stop hearing the rushing of blood in your ears and instead hear Vance’s grunts of pain, your eyes wide. “Holy shit, Hopper! Why’d you sneak up on me like that?! Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?!”

There were people watching you both, the many conversations summing up to: (Y/N) Can totally rock Vance Hopper’s shit!

You helped Vance stand up from his place on the floor, a hand pressed over his chest. You definitely winded and bruised the poor guy. He looked at you and smacked the back of your head in revenge. You didn’t have the energy to get involved in a mini-brawl with him right now, and you thought that by the end you two would have some sort of weird tension going on. No one knew that you and Vance were kinda-sorta-seeing-each-other (though Bruce had a suspicion), so you two were keeping it kind of secret.

Everyone knew Vance had helped you get out of the basement, so when you two were with each other people seemed to go crazy. You heard whispers from kids about how you both ‘probably plotted on getting famous together so they set it up,’ or about how ‘Vance was so heroic and it was an enemies to lovers story bound to happen.’ Surprise surprise, the second person was right.

“Hey, you mother fuckers better stop whispering about that Grabber bullshit. If (Y/N) and I could kill that bastard then you guys will be cakewalks.”

Being on good terms with Vance had its perks now.

——————

When you were walking through the hallways to get to the bathroom when it happened. As you walked through the dim and fluorescent lit hallways, an eerie feeling crawled up your spine at the awkward silence on your shoes against the linoleum tiles under you. You refused to look at the floor because of that. It was the same pattern as that stupid fucking basement. Life seemed to be taunting you—especially because when you walked into the bathroom, some asshole kid jumpscared you, grabbing you by the shoulders as a loud scream echoed around the hallways. Wait, that was your scream.

A teacher ran over to you crouched on the floor, your head in your hands as you sat there rocking on the balls of your feet, thick and heavy tears dripping down your face as you whispered and mumbled to yourself. You heard quick footsteps rushing to where you were, a very concerned Vance by your side in almost an instant.

“You aren’t there anymore, it was just some dickhead (Y/N), don’t worry.”

“I hate high school.” You mumbled, your breathing finally starting to even out as you calmed down. It didn’t take long to calm down, but you didn’t exactly like yourself breaking down in the middle of a hallway in the middle of the school day.

“Woah, (Y/N) is crying in the middle of the hall.” You heard.

“Isn’t she like, hardened by that kidnapping thing? What’s up with her?”

“Some kid jumpscared her. Give her a break.”

You stood up and quickly wiped your tears, face red and puffy but your eyes were angry. What a cruel fucking joke that you’d be stuck with all these issues after escaping something. It was supposed to be a miracle. It was supposed to be unbelievable luck. It was bullshit. “I wanna go home.”

——————————————

It had been about a week since that incident in the hallway, you were sitting at your table with Bruce and a few of his friends, Vance right next to you as well. Ever since that incident you weren’t super nice or any sort of nervous. You were a little more closed off, a little more paranoid your peers were pitying you or making fun of you. Kids seemed to talk less about you openly, people avoided you a little more—not because they were scared, but because you seemed untouchable. If someone did something wrong, would you lash out or start panicking?

Being around your friends was the closest people would get to seeing you ‘normal.’ You laughed with them like you did before and seemed to be less closed off. You kept your hair the same style it had become when Vance cut it—a sort of reminder to yourself that you needed to grow before letting yourself change. It was some sort of weird trauma thing.

You were talking with Bruce and his baseball friend Jason about something involving biology when Vance noticed it. You didn’t seem to be really grounded to anything around you—more like your body was there and your mind was elsewhere. As you laughed along with the two boys, Vance’s hand slowly slid on top of yours that was resting on the bench next to you, a small squeeze coming from him. He was there for you—he just hoped you realized it. When you only glanced at him and didn’t reciprocate, the blonde knew something was wrong. He needed to talk to you privately.

——————

Nine-something-PM at night, your bedside lamp the only thing turned on, a quiet murmur of music in the background as your record played your favorite song ‘Fox on the Run.’ The ambiance was great for your mind to be a bundle of thoughts and nerves, your head on your pillow and Albert’s mask in your hand. You hated the guy, you were glad he was dead, yet in a weird way you wanted to keep the mask. The police found the other pieces to it in his house, but they didn’t find the angry eyes portion in the bush just outside of the broken basement window. You had walked by his house a few days after your hospital discharge and remembered it, so you picked it up and left quickly afterwards.

“If I could kill you again with the full satisfaction of seeing you die, then I would.” You told the mask, rolling over and dropping it under your nightstand. “Should I have died there too?”

You heard a knock of something against your window, an aggressive chill running down your spine. Who got your address? Was someone coming to kidnap you? Was someone coming to finish Albert’s job?

“Open the window, (Y/N).” Oh, it was just Vance.

You laughed to yourself and pushed the window up, leaning on the windowsill and looked at the blonde in front of you. “Oh Romeo, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

His hand gripped the sides, pulling himself in while simultaneously pushing you out of the way. When he was standing in your room he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and leaned his head against yours. “I’m afraid I’ve noticed something dreadful.” You loved when he played along with your jokes. Your grade had recently started to study Romeo and Juliet in English, and it was also the thing you and Vance had recently started to make fun of.

“And what might that be?”

“You’re different.”

Your stomach lurched. What did he mean? Does everyone think this way? Are you failing at going back? Are you never gonna be “normal” again?

“Ha…what do you mean Vance?”

He stared at you, his hands on your shoulders and eyes searching yours. “You aren’t fully ‘there’ whenever you talk with people, you seem way more closed off than you used to be, and you’re way more paranoid—which makes sense.”

His words hit you. They hit you hard. The paranoia was normal from what the doctors said, but you couldn’t explain or rationalize the other parts. How aren’t you interacting normally? How are you not fully there? You laugh when you should and chime into the conversation when you need to.

“I don’t get it.” You said, pulling away and flopping on your bed. “I’ve been trying so hard to go back to normal…what am I doing wrong?”

There was a beat of silence before you felt added weight on your side, Vance’s body pushing against yours as he grabbed your hand. For such a rough and tough delinquent, he really was quite gentle. There were another few moments of quiet before he spoke again, pressing the back of your hand to his lips. You two were slowly getting used to each other and your feelings, so it was nice to know you were a little closer now.

“This is your new normal. You’ll get used to it.” Your eyes were teary, curling into the boy. “You got kidnapped and almost murdered, your brain changes a bunch because of that.”

“Wow, are ya the new brain doctor around here?” You laughed, feeling him flick your forehead. “Alright alright, I’ll stop.”

The blonde pulled you into a hug and laid there, his hands around your waist. You were a little shocked at first, but it subsided and you started to run your fingers through his hair, laying in his arms as the song playing quietly in the background came to an end.

“I’ll help you out when you need it.”

You just mumbled something unintelligible in his chest, finally falling asleep easily against Vance. Maybe it was having him here that made you feel safe, or maybe it was that someone that wasn’t a shrink actually knew what was up with you. When your snores started up and your breathing evened out, Vance finally curled into you as well as the ever-diligent big spoon, not expecting to hear the faintest rattle of a ring. Your room phone wasn’t ringing, so what could it have been?

His hand slid under your pillow and felt the sleek plastic, pulling out the black receiver with a confused look. Why did you have this under your pillow? He put the item against his ear out of curiosity, his hand that was rubbing small circles in your back slowing down.

“Hello?”

“You clever kids really got me good.” A raspy voice called out from the other end. “You’re quite the pair, enjoy the rest of your tormented lives.”

Vance pulled the phone away when Albert started cackling, throwing the phone away from him and to the other side of the room. His heart was beating too fast for his liking and his chest was heaving, the voice of his tormentor ringing in his head. After a moment, he looked down at you and hugged you extra tight, pulling away for a moment and staring down at you. He was prepared to die just to save you when you were both locked in that shifty basement. After a moment he leaned down and pressed his lips to your own. He didn’t know why, but with the overwhelming emotions coursing through his body, this was the one that slipped out. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were woken from your doze, smiling at the boy when he pulled away.

“Well well, thank you Prince Charming. You’ve saved me from my slumber.” You teased, threading your fingers into his hair and pulling him back down into a kiss. “It’s about time. What were you freaking out about?”

Vance looked down at you, his hands on either side of your head. Should he tell you? Nah. With a chuckle at his decision, he pressed a quick peck on your lips and stared at you. “If I said that I was so worked up because of you, would you believe me?”

You pushed him away with a squeal, rolling over onto your stomach and hiding under your covers, laughing loudly when he pounced on top of you and started tickling you.

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aneenasevla · 3 months

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Red Velvet - Chapter 1 (part 1)

MasterList / Akane’s profile / Art by @aneenasevla

TIMELINE: this story begins after Cookies'n'Cream and at the same time as Devil's Food. If you haven't read those, I recommend you check them out. This is part 4 of an ongoing series.

Chapter 1 - Hopeless (part 1)

"Huh? Girl, what the hell!", Akane almost screamed into her phone, while talking with her old high school friend. "I was just joking around!"

Her face turned very red. That stupid comment she made on Instagram under a photo her friend had posted was still there and she wouldn't take it back, but hey, people were always saying stupid shit on social media, right?

Yes, the men in that photo caught her attention, and she really liked that hot tanned guy too, but there were at least seven or eight girls asking for his DMs, so as a second option, she turned her attention to the other two, who were as big as gorillas. Apparently the bald one was a famous MMA fighter and she was well aware of how utterly thirsty her friend was for that type of man, so she decided to look at the other one. Blonde, his hair clearly bleached, and a face so dumb-looking that she felt a little sorry for him. Of course, as a joke, she asked for his DMs...

She just didn't expect that her damn comment would be taken seriously.

"Well... that's the problem, Akane. He didn't take it as a joke," Tomori sighs on the other end of the line, sounding a little tired. "Rihito is a very literal guy. Especially when it comes to women. It's been four months and he won't fucking drop it..."

"For fuck's sake… Giiiiirl…," she rubs her face, exasperated. It was her lunch break, so she was eating at a nearby convenience store. "I even forgot about that dude's face, can you believe it? I already have too much on my plate. But is he really bothering you? Tell your pet gorilla to tell him to knock that shit off! Isn't he a badass fighter or something like that?"

"No chance, sis, he’s one of Naoh’s best friends. The most he can do is tell him to leave me alone while I'm in the middle of work. But as soon as I go to sit with them during lunch break, he resumes with his bullshit", She snorts, and Akane can imagine her rolling her eyes. He goes like 'What about your friend, Tomori? Has she made up her mind? Did you give her my number?', and so on. Seriously, I like him, but it's getting really annoying. That's why I decided to end this once and for all and tell you what's going on."

"Holy shit, that sucks", Akane sighs. "It's just that I... I just dumped an idiot, you know who... dipshit wanted something more serious and I really, really didn't, he's a bum and has nothing going on for him, you know... ?," She remembers the fight they had. "Sorry, I don't know if I want an encore for a while. You were lucky, but you know I'm not... and I really doubt that the blonde gorilla can handle a Gyaru..."

"Shit, girl…," Tomori says sympathetically. She remains silent for about two seconds before saying, more quietly, as if she had brought the phone closer to her mouth "Look, if you don't want to, just say so, and I'll tell him to drop it. But...," She hesitates a little. "I don't believe he wouldn't know how to deal with you. He... well, he's a pretty intense guy. Not to say batshit crazy. You had to hear about all the crazy things that Naoh and he were up to, it even involved the police..."

"Oh, hell no… didn’t you hear what I just said?!," She whimpers. "I don't want an idiot who has a history with the damn dogs, Tomori..."

"I know, relax. They've straightened up, I swear," She sighs. "What I'm trying to say is that your lifestyle wouldn't be a shock to this guy, because he's seen and experienced a lot of crazy shit that I can't even name properly, you know?"

"Damn…," she sighs again. In truth, she didn't want to say that it had been a few months since she had kicked her stupid, good-for-nothing fuck-buddy to the curb, but she was still too upset to start anything new... The problem was that she was already feeling the urge, and Papa Satan knew very well the type of woman she was. Hiro, her brother in arms on nights out, knew very well what she was like. "Okay, here's the thing... do you have his Instagram so I can check it out? I want to see if he can make me wanna take off my panties… but hey!," she almost shouts into the phone, as a warning. "I'm not doing this for him, didja hear me? It's only to make him leave you alone, and if you said he can handle me, I'll go all out. I won't hold back on the Gyaru gear. I want to see if he can handle the heat."

"He doesn't have an Instagram account, but I have some photos that I took with them over the months, and others that Naoh sent me. I'll send them to you. And I appreciate it, but seriously, you don't need to force yourself. If you don't want to, just say so, and I'll tell him to knock it off. Rihito is insistent as hell, but he also knows when to throw in the towel," She assures, her voice becoming a little more urgent.

"Wait, what kind of dumbass caveman-wannabe doesn’t have an Instagram account these days? And seriously, what kind of name is Rihito? That's either a really stupid name or a nom de guerre or something. If it's a nom de guerre, I understand, I even think it's cool..."

A straight man having a nom de guerre... that was news to her. But why "Rihito”? Why a name that literally meant “beyond human reason”?

"He says it's 'social media for sissies’. Yeah, I'll let you know that he's that kind of guy. And he's got a bit better over the last few months," Tomori grunts a little. "And Rihito is his nickname. Or his public identity, as he likes to say. He likes to act like he's a comic book superhero or something. It's cute and kinda ridiculous at the same time..."

"Fuckin' hell, woman, look what you got me into…," Akane lets out a grunt.

"Sorry! I swear I wouldn't even be bothering you if I weren't sick of this. I'm doing this more out of conscience, to make it clear to him that I at least tried, because again, you don't have to accept it," Tomori guarantees, her tone now softer. "I really didn't know about your situation with your fuck-buddy. We've been so out of touch lately, now I'm feeling guilty."

"Relax, honey, I’m also to blame. I've been busy at the beauty salon too. I've also been a little down and I'm not even going out with my friends from the Izakayas anymore. They're all kinda settling down too, since they're all in their late twenties or early thirties. They're becoming like the ladies whose hair I cut and dye in the most boring colors," she makes a theatrical sound of nausea. "Nothing against your hair color, Tomoh, but it's sorta like when you're making your cookies, y'know? Eventually you get tired of seeing them every day... speaking of which, I want a box of 'em. I'll pay you the next time we meet."

"I understand, Kane. I got sick of sweet stuff for a reason, after all," Tomori laughs a little. "And of course, I'll make you a pretty fancy box. I can even offer a discount, to compensate for the trouble... oh, shit, me talking like that makes it seem like going out with him would be fuckin' torture," She laughs more.

"I'm a warrior, my dear. You know about my battles and my scars'', which were almost metaphorical, of course. She prided herself on having very good skin, thank you very much. "I endured gaslighters and even stalker threats... what's a gorilla compared to that?"

She laughs loudly. "Yeah, I know all about your struggles, hahaha! And yes, he is a gorilla. A gorilla plush, in this case. He's pushy and very inconvenient, but a really nice guy once you get to know him better. He wouldn't be one of my boyfriend's best friends if that weren't the case," Akane could almost hear her smiling fondly.

"Hnf… I can only believe it when I see it, so send me those damn pics. Don't say anything to him yet, I don't promise anything either. If there's one that shows his pants, I want it too. Gotta check it out to see if it's worth it...," she laughs quietly. "My lunch break is almost over, so I'll see it later. Then I'll give you an answer, okay?"

"Okay, I'll send it as soon as I hang up. The first one will give you a good idea of the quality of this specimen. The four of them took it on a day when they decided to go fishing, so clothes were a bit unnecessary, haha. The others were on nights I went out with them, casual things... and...," She now hesitates a little. "Please, don't think that this is me trying to pressure you, but... send your answer as quickly as possible, please. If I have to hear one more "what about your friend, Tomori?", I'll be forced to commit murder, which will really harm my criminal record and probably cost me a relationship, haha."

"I'm an expert on this matter and I can say that you can claim self-defense in court!," she laughs loudly, snoring a little. "Okay, I got back to the salon and my boss is already glaring at me, so I'm going to hang up. Send those pics and I'll make my decision. A punch in your eye and a kiss on your check, honey! Bye!," She hangs up.

It doesn't take long for her to hear the sound of notifications coming in, indicating that Tomori had wasted no time and was already sending her the photos. The poor thing must have been really desperate to get rid of that Rihito guy. She takes advantage of the fact that she didn't have any clients at that time and opens the photos Tomori sent her, making a discredited pout. The Gorilla type was a kind of bodybuilder who worked out to get strong, on any and every body part that there was to work on, and they ended up looking like a Hulk wannabe. The Okubo guy, who her friend menaged to put in a leg lock, was that type of man, and with excellence. He was easily almost seven feet tall, which made her wonder, with some hilarity, how they managed to fuck without him having to contort himself like a pretzel. The second one in the right corner of the photo was the hot tanned guy who had made every single woman in their social circle wet their panties. He wasn't a mountain of muscles like Tomori's boyfriend, but he had his own defined biceps, triceps, chest and abdomen to show off, accompanied by a tanned skin that would make most of her Gyaru friends jealous. The third, on the far left, was the smallest of the four, and despite appearing to be pretty fit, he was nowhere near as large as his fishing companions. His straight black hair, his affable expression and his fox-like eyes gave him a somewhat intellectual air; most likely the brains of that group. And the last one, right next to Okubo…

"Gorilla" was certainly an appropriate definition. He was huge. Really huge, with a broad chest where you could bury your face in and stay there until you suffocated, and if you tried to escape, the absurdly muscular arms wouldn't allow it. His six-pack would give Tomori's boyfriend's a run for its money. His face at first glance wasn't anything special (the tanned guy was by far the most handsome of the group, there wasn't any doubt), but his eyes were big, green and very expressive. They showed a somewhat smug happiness as he lifted the huge fish by the fishing line, which seemed to weigh nothing to him.

"Hnmm…," she licks a little of the lollipop she had bought to accompany the tedious afternoon that would be the second half of her working day. She zooms in on the photo, wanting to see a specific part better…

And those stupid baggy swimming trunks didn't show much. Damn it. Normally she was good at figuring these things out. But it seemed proportionate, which left her giving it the benefit of doubt. Yeah... he seemed like her type. He could even become a nice fuck-buddy... she checked the other photos. They didn't have much focus, but they confirmed that she needed to see it in person to know... he had a nice ass too; apparently someone also worked well on that. She looked at a photo with another guy with wavy black hair, and she got a little interested, but she looked away as soon as she saw him sitting with his arm around the shoulders of another friend of hers. Oh, so Kanami the Butch got herself a boyfriend too? Attagirl! And a hot one too… she nodded in approval. Okay, back to the blonde guy.

After a thorough analysis, she shrugged. Yes, he was her type, in addition to having a nice body. He also seemed kinda cute and practically had “idiot” written all over his face. Just the way she liked it. She starts to tip a response.

Panther:

Verdict: he'll do

hey wolfie, tell this guy I wanna test him

but if he complains about my style, I'll kick him to the fuckin curb

also, you said rihito isn't his real name, right?

what's this specimen called?

Wolfie:

you're completely within your rights, panther!

but I don't believe he'll do that, he likes women who aren't afraid to show their bodies

naoh almost punched him once when he caught him looking at my legs lmao

and his name's ichiro

nakata ichiro

but he prefers the nickname

again, superhero with a secret identity

kinda cringe xD

Panther:

I told ya, if it's a nom de guerre, I'm cool with it

I have one after all

still, don't send him my number yet

from what I know about this guy, he'll probably keep sending me dick pics

no matter how much I wanna see it, it's still gross, c'mon

Wolfie:

I didn't give him your number for that very reason

he'd definitely call you a hundred times and send you some gross stuff

but he calmed down when I suggested he make an instagram account to talk to you

fragile masculinity, imma right?

Panther:

oh boy... I foresee some debates, and not the good kind...

sheesh, here comes a old hag for us to salvage

sort everything out for me and I'll give you a really nice trim as a thanks

what do you say?

afterall you now have a human king kong to impress

Wolfie:

girl, I love you so much!

I'm in!

and yes, he loves to run his hands through my hair, so it's good to keep it nice and smooth hahaha

they're coming back from their trip in a couple of days, so I'll give them the news

you can choose the best day for the date

Panther:

any weekend is fine

I have nothing scheduled, not even for the holidays, so it's up to you

just remember that it’s almost winter, so I wanna go somewhere warm, for god’s sake.

Wolfie:

leave it to me!

now I'm gonna let you do your thing

I know that's a lot of work hahaha

I'll send you a message when I sort everything out with him

I just have to let you know

I wasn't exaggerating when I said he's intense

he's the clingy type, and is kinda difficult to push him away

so, if you need to, put your foot down

he's a bit clueless but he understands what ‘no’ means

Panther:

sweetheart, you're talking to a professional

get a grip

and I'm in the mood for a physical dude

mama’s gonna eat good 🍑🍑

Wolfie:

LMAO

yeah, I know you

but I'm warning you for a reason

he's really strong

like, REALLY strong

so you better lay your boundaries from the beginning

cause if he grabs you, it will be difficult to get out of his hug lol

Panther:

bitch you're scaring me a little here

do you want me to fuck him or not?

"Tomori, I need help at table three...," Kanami's voice echoes from the counter, arriving in the kitchen and turning down the volume "There's a group of teenagers here and a young Gyaru here who eats like a freakin' pig... Sounds like my boyfriend, I swear…"

Tomori laughs loudly "Okay, Kanny, I'm gonna help you with Ohma's clone!," She calls over her shoulder before finishing typing her answer on the phone.

Wolfie:

go ahead, I said he's nice, and he is

it's just that I worry about how you'll feel, considering you just came out of a bad situationship

and he may not understand that at first

he's a nice guy but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed

Panther:

girl, don't rain on my parade

let me have a taste first

I'm a pro, I'll fold him like a napkin, trust me

now bye, go find something else to do

And her icon went offline.

Tomori sets her phone aside and gets up from the table with a sigh. Well, her part was already done. Rihito was going to owe her a big one. She worries for a few seconds, wondering if that was a good idea. But she didn't fear so much for her friend. She feared more for her boyfriend's friend. He had no idea who he was messing with... but perhaps an experience with the fierce predator that was Agata Akane was what that dumbass needed.

…

"Wait, really, babe?," Okubo blinks, while they were returning home, after he sent the other three idiots away and picked her up from work. "You really convinced your friend to go on a date with him?"

"I did. Even I'm finding it hard to believe that it worked!," She widens her eyes at him, an arm around his waist while he rests his on her shoulders. "Do you remember that post I made on Instagram, a few months ago, with that photo we took that Saturday? The five of us, after we left the market."

"Yeah, I remember. And I also remember what happened a few weeks later. Rihito spent fuckin' forever talking non-stop, and on the second weekend we beat his ass because we were fed up. I even left him limping, so he got the message, hahahaha! But yeah, he even said this chick's name, Akane. He kept bothering Himuro to look at her profile and everything. That was the last straw, dipshit refuses to make a profile and wants to invade her DMs with other people's accounts. Can you believe it?"

"That's so mean, Naoh, hahaha!," She laughs loudly, resting the side of her head on his chest. "But yeah, he deserved it. Akane thought that his beef with Instagram was stupid, but she overlooked the rest. Lucky him," She shakes her head. "I swear to you, love, I only did it because he wouldn't stop bothering me. Every single day! All I had to do was sit down to have lunch with you guys and he would start talking his ass off! I was almost beating him myself, sorry about that."

"No, relax. I was actually hoping that next time you would bring your baseball bat because I’m fed up too. But the hardest part will fall on your friend's shoulders, you know, he could do something stupid and she would run away from him like the devil runs from a cross."

"Oh, you don’t have to worry about that…," She smiled at him, and that smile was sharp, almost dangerous. "Akane isn’t the type to run away like that. It's the others who run away from her. Rihito is going to be in for a real surprise, trust me."

"Hnmmm...," he didn't seemed very convinced. "Look Tomori, I don't know... I've seen Rihito go after lots of women, in all shapes and sizes, and... it's kinda sad, actually. He really doesn't know how to behave around women. I mean, he was even worse than me, he only behaved a little when we were all together and...," his eyes widened, and his face lit up. "I have an idea! Tomoh, how about a double date?"

"Huh?," She blinks at him, her mouth opening in surprise. "A double date? Like, you, me and the two of them?"

"Yeah! This way I can hold the idiot back. I mean... with us together, he'll hold his tongue and he won't feel obligated to impress her, you know? Not to mention that if you need to, you can take her to the bathroom and have a chat, then you can give me a hint as to whether everything's going well or not. I... I feel like I owe him this one, y'know..."

"... Oh. You still feel indebted to him, don't you? For what he did after our disastrous first date...," That was now a distant memory that no longer affected her, so she could remember the humiliation of having to deal with a completely drunk Okubo in a public place without it upsetting her. "I understand. I think I would feel the same way. It was because of what he was willing to do that I concluded he was a nice guy after all."

"Yeah… so… do you think it'll work? And...," he pulls her closer to him, smiling mischievously. "I miss you, y'know... after we've both left, we can have some quality time for ourselves too. What do you say?"

She smiles sweetly at him, hugging him sideways, snuggling the side of her head against that broad chest that she loved to use as a pillow. "I was thinking the same. I miss you too... our last outings were to my parents' house, and there I can't cuddle with you the way I like, haha. So yes, it was a great idea!"

"See? From time to time I have some good ideas, I'm not that stupid…," he jokes, smiling at her.

"You're not stupid. You just have a simpler and more direct mentality, and a lot of good things can come out of that. Like now," She jokes too, taking his hand in hers and placing a small kiss on its back.

At that moment they arrive at his car. He opens the door for her, closes it when she gets in and walks around to get on the other side.

NEXT CHAPTER HERE

#heavybakery #fanfiction #brazilian artists #fanfic #kenganashura #kengan ashura #kengan omega #rihito #lihito

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switchyfox · 2 years

Note

in case you're open to Eddie Munsons requests 👉👈 maybe Reader and Eddie are drinking/smoking together and Eddie finds out that R becomes super affectionate when high/drunk? and Eddie just being super amused by it. no pressure tho :3

Thank you for the request, I loved it!! This is the first I decided to fill in, so it's my first time writing for Eddie. I hope you'll like it anon!

Eddie Munson x male!reader (drinking/smoking together - fluff)

You can read it on Ao3 here.

1.7k words - 3rd person - reader uses he/him pronouns - set before the events of season 4

“Hey, you’re still coming tonight, right?”

Y/n never promised that he would be there, but with Eddie looking expectantly at him like this... there was no way he could say no to these pleading, soft brown eyes. Besides, he was a little excited to enjoy an evening with Eddie and his friends. They had only started to hang around together a few weeks ago; Eddie had approached him during lunch break and asked if he wanted to help him set up a DnD campaign. Y/n had been a little reluctant, but he soon found out that Eddie could be very persuasive. That, and the guy just kept rubbing him the right way, shooting compliments about his art and writing (that he had noticed during their classes together and extra scholar projects displayed around school through the years). Eddie sounded so excited at the idea of sharing a hobby, and y/n desperately needed this kind of friend, so he accepted. They had been spending time together developing ideas for the campaign ever since then, but they hadn’t had any occasion to just chill together outside school yet.

“Yeah, count me in. I'll bring a six-pack.”

Eddie pumped his fists in victory, a broad smile plastered on his face.

“Awesome! Jeff and Gareth can’t wait to meet you.” His attitude changed to serious in a matter of seconds. “Just remember, no matter how hard they push, don’t drop any info on the campaign. It is crucial.”

His interlocutor nodded.

“Roger that. My lips are sealed.”

This earned him another smile from Eddie, along with a pat on the shoulder.

“Great. See you tonight then.” With that, he bowed before leaving towards his car, a grin on his face.

***

The night was going well. Just as Eddie expected, his playmates had jumped on the occasion to try and get information from y/n as soon as he had arrived. The latter had held his ground through the evening better than expected, and the two nerds had stopped trying to get him to spill the beans hours ago now.

Gareth had claimed the armchair to the left as soon as he had entered the trailer in the early evening, Y/n was currently sitting on the floor with his back resting against the empty side of the couch and Jeff was comfortably seated on the far-right end of it. They were discussing the upcoming Aliens movie; all were hoping to be able to watch it in the theatre. Maybe they would go together. Eddie had just left his spot on the sofa to fetch them another tape to play, they had all agreed to change to something calm after they finished the last Black Sabbath album. They had already drunk their way through two six-packs, shared a couple of joints, and they were all getting a little drowsy.

Some chill classic rock tunes started playing from Eddie’s room, and when he came back to the living room, the conversation between his friends was still ongoing.

“Actually, I think the Xenomorph is even more fuckable than Ripley. She’s hot and badass, don’t get me wrong, but have you seen this thing? Made me all flustered every time it came on screen in the first movie.” Y/n slurred, doing his best not to laugh at his own thoughts.

“Wow dude, that’s gross.” replied Jeff.

Gareth tried to think of it for a second and his face contorted in disgust.

“I don’t even want to imagine how the whole sex thing would work.”

That’s when y/n burst into laughter.

“I’m only kidding guys, it is kinda gross. I mean, imagine if... ok ok, I’ll stop here.” He shut himself up by taking a long sip of his beer, amused.

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes away from y/n. He knew he had been developing a bit of a crush on the boy, but to see him so relaxed, buzzed from the alcohol, the music and the weed... He couldn’t help but think he was the most handsome guy he had ever laid his eyes upon. No matter how unappealing whatever y/d just said might have been for anyone else, Eddie was not bothered in the slightest. He was glad that his friend was enjoying himself without the usual anxiety weighing on him, enough to share whatever silly thought was coming to his mind.

As the conversation died down, Jeff got up and announced he needed to take a trip to the toilets. The three other nerds nodded lazily in acknowledgment. Eddie walked around the table in the middle of the room, picked up a joint that had been left there for later, and took over Jeff’s spot on the sofa. He lit up the cigarette, staring at y/n from where he was, and he put a hand on his shoulder as he took a puff. The boy turned to face him, and he exhaled the smoke.

“It’s your chance to get a much more comfortable place to sit down for the rest of the night. C’mon.”

He noticed the faintest sign of embarrassment on his friend’s face when he stood up, not so steadily. Eddie patted the spot to his left and y/n pushed the hesitation aside, plopping down next to him. Eddie smiled and threw his left arm on the back of the couch, handing the cigarette to his friend with his other hand. Y/n borrowed the cigarette from him and took a puff of his own, eyes closing for a few seconds as he held his breath in. When he exhaled, he handed the weed back to Eddie. He didn’t bother asking Gareth, as he had already stated that he wouldn’t smoke anything tonight.

All three of them were now sitting in pleasant silence, if only for the soft music coming from the distant bedroom. They were all getting dozy, and y/n wriggled into a comfier position, snuggling a little closer into Eddie’s side, and he found himself drawing patterns with his fingertip on the leg of the metalhead.

“You feeling good, y/n?” he asked, a little surprised. He had never seen him show signs of enjoying this kind of intimacy, not with him, not with anyone else back at school.

“Mmh-mh, very good. You’re so... warm and comfy...” he mumbled.

Eddie was a little taken aback but amused. He enjoyed this version of y/n. Actually, he was enjoying being snuggled next to him nearly as much. Taking another puff, he moved the hand that was resting on the couch to y/n’s back, rubbing it softly. The boy nearly purred at that. Eddie chuckled.

“Someone’s in a mood, mh?” he asked teasingly.

“Sorry, I’m just... it feels so good, I don’t think you’ll ever get me to move away from here.”

Y/n reached out for the joint, softly grasping Eddie’s wrist. But instead of simply taking the cigarette from his grasp, he covered Eddie’s hand with his own and brought them to his face to take a hit.

Eddie’s breath caught up in his throat when he could feel his friend’s lips brushing against his fingers.

Y/n exhaled and he realized Eddie had stopped petting his back. His other hand was still hanging in the air where y/n had been holding it. A little concerned, he angled his head to stare back at him.

His face looked a little flushed. He looked cute, y/n thought. And with his plush lips slightly parted, he looked so… kissable. Without even realizing it, y/n's tongue peeked out to wet his lips.

This seemed to break the spell, as Eddie broke out of his stupor and averted his gaze, taking one last hit of the joint before crushing the nub in the ashtray. He had to bend over to reach it on the low table, and y/n took advantage of the movement to sit up a little more properly, still very close to his friend. As Eddie straightened his back, y/n ran his fingers along the spine. He could feel his muscles tense slightly at the touch, but all the tension seemed to release off his body when he reached his nape.

“Can I touch your hair dude? It looks so soft…”

Eddie chuckled. Y/n was really full of surprises tonight. He turned his head to face him.

“Only if you let me mess up yours later.”

Y/n pretended to think it over, humming lowly. He didn’t give a clear answer before his fingers skimmed through the thick, dark locks and started to massage the crown of Eddie’s head. Eddie’s eyelids fluttered. The presence of y/n by his side was comforting, and the gentle movement of his fingers was making his head tingle in the best way.

“Feels good?” y/n finally asked.

“Never better. I think I won’t let you move away from here even if you try.”

At this moment, Jeff walked back into the room, yawning.

“It was a really great evening guys but I’m gonna head back now. Anyone needs a ride?”

Gareth perked up at the offer, he was nearly falling asleep.

“Uh yeah, I think I’m too tired to walk back all the way home.”

Jeff turned his attention to y/n while Gareth mustered the motivation to leave the surprisingly comfortable armchair and gather his belongings.

“What about you? Want me to drop you off?”

Y/n didn’t answer the question, instead he turned to look quizzically at Eddie. He wanted to know if he was welcome to stay the night, he didn’t exactly feel like leaving now. Eddie picked up on that.

“I think I’ll keep him here a little longer. Want to talk through a few ideas for the campaign before I forget them.”

“Well then, it was really great to finally spend some time with you dude, you should hang around with us more often! I can’t wait to see what you both come up with for our party.”

“I’ll definitely do, it was a lot of fun. Thanks for inviting me in the first place guys.”

“Don’t mention it, you’re welcome to hang out with us anytime. You’re part of the group now.”

Eddie was glad that they all got along so well so fast.

***

A few minutes later, after everyone had bid their goodbye, the two friends were gone. Y/n was still snuggled up against Eddie, playing with his hair while the guitarist traced lines on his back.

“You’re really not gonna move, mh?”

Y/n shook his head, yawning.

“No way. I guess I’m just gonna pass out on top of you and you’ll have to deal with it.”

“I guess I could handle that.”

#x male reader #male reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #my text

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backandimbamon · 3 years

Note

Bonnie playing with Damon's hair and he all sleepy 😊

this really took a while because… i was going to stop at the first half but i wanted to consider Bonnie’s perspective (: and then it got a lil spicy and i was like *sigh* why must you always take it there? but i mean- 👁- i always take it there because we were robbed!!! Damon is practically a self proclaimed sex god and i hate how they separated Bonnie from her sexuality, or really any form of intimacy for sooo long. and the scraps we got were NEVER enough. okay anyways yeah i’m finally done, like let’s get into it.

Damon notices that Bonnie touches him sparingly and really not because she wants to but because it happens accidentally every now and then, one of the perks about frequently invading her space.

Being stuck on the other side, there is less room for her and more for him, she’s in his world now which means it’s his duty to make her feel as uncomfortably comfortable as possible.

He notices everything; how her cheeks turn red when their knuckles brush against one another’s, how she takes in an exasperated little breath when their shoulders touch, how she rolls her eyes when he stands entirely too close. Damon hangs on to these moments because this may be his only form of female contact he’ll receive for a very, very, long time.

That is the only reason he hangs on.

Anytime she touches him intentionally, he feels a pride swell deep in his chest that he’s liked by Bonnie after a rocky road of ups and downs, fussing and fighting, he is finally deemed worthy enough for her to care about him even if it’s brief, even if it’s the smallest skin to skin contact imaginable.

And yes, he cares because if he has to spend the rest of eternity with one person, they might as well get along.

Movie night comes around so he rests his head in her lap, testing the waters, to see how she will respond to him. He senses her tense up a bit as predicted, but then she relaxes into it breath by breath like she’s doing a tricky yoga pose.

Bonnie’s body lotion makes her skin smell edible- cocoa and honey- she’ll never know but that’s why he nicknames her Bon Bon, she always smells good enough to eat. At this point, Damon can’t recall the VHS movie on the block of a television, his focus has been robbed by Bonnie and this new form of contact she allows him to try. Half of his smile sinks into the cotton of her leggings.

Her eyes never leave the screen when she laces her fingers through his hair, nails surfing through tufts of raven-black and the gesture is so shocking and embarrassingly arousing that a strangled groan gets trapped in his throat.

She panics, and he can tell by the change in her heart rate before saying. “Did I hurt you?” He has to clear his throat to speak.

“Hmmm mm, feels good,” he mumbles feigning casual so she can’t realize how he needs this so so bad that he’s fearful of it being taken away. In his mind he thinks about what if.

What if she wakes up and decides she doesn’t want to tap dance on the line between what is and isn’t acceptable for two best friends. What if she remembers that he’s actually a terrible person who has done horrendous things to her and everyone she’s ever loved.

She shouldn’t like him or try not to laugh at his jokes. Not at all. Bonnie should’ve killed him a long, long time ago because if anyone could do it, it’d be her. He can see her now, all badass and angry with a wooden stake in her hand, vengeance in her eyes, the very last thing he’d see before his lights went out forever.

Bonnie, the giver and the taker.

Bonnie, the only god he knew.

Damon finds himself thinking so intensely lately that he checks the mirror more often than not to make sure he has no brooding lines like his little brother. Stefan’s expansive forehead has the room for it, his perfectly shaped forehead does not.

She laces her fingers back through his hair again and his eyes flutter, that’s how good it feels. It’s sensational. And while he’s had his hair pulled in and out of the bedroom, the innocence of her touch makes him want to melt. He finds his lids growing heavier, like how they used to do a century-and-a-half ago when he was human.

Running through dandelion fields in the overbearing Virginia heat, the sun up above sending heavy gusts of sunshine beams, a moment he considers to be oppressive now, used to be magical then- miraculous -and despite sweating through his britches and overcoat he never cared enough to stop running through the fields. The sun was the greatest thing all those years ago, back when white was his favorite color.

And after drawing a long, hot bath, he’d sink deep into the water while the bubbles floated to the top. Damon would close his eyes, hold his breath, see if he could break his prior record. Then he’d get out and the sleep would welcome him like any drowsy being, with open arms. And there he’d fall.

Bonnie has that affect on him. She makes him think of home, his past, when times were simpler and he was human.

He feels that exhausted sometimes, a boy who’s never stopped running through dandelion fields, whether it snows or rains or burns him alive. Her fingernails rake through his scalp- orange leaves on browning grass. Ruining Stefan’s piles for the fun of it. His lids droop. Tired of being consumed by himself, by Bonnie, he admits defeat this time. When he finally drifts off, he remembers that the Virginia heat gave him this same warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

“You really don’t know how good this feels,” his final words are hoarse before he drifts off but the last thing he sees is Bonnie.

The giver and the taker, the only god he knows.

Bonnie refuses to relish in the magic of the moment, the fact that it’s so rare Damon ever completely lets his guard down around her. She can always feel his eyes on her, constantly watching because Damon has a presence that’s inescapable.

Being so close to him when he’s extremely vulnerable makes her realize that in all facets, he’s stunning. A stunning that’s almost suffocating but with the dynamic they possess, he only needs to know that he’s not that much of an eye sore.

Now, she stares with wide eyes while she can, memorizes the smooth expanse of skin, every strand of dark hair. Relishes in the feel of his arms around her waist, the weight of his head in her lap. It’s been a long time since she’s felt a body besides her own and as much as she likes to ignore the fact, she has needs, needs that have swelled from being in the presence of Damon for too long.

He’s sexy without any effort, she examines. His dark t-shirt has risen and his pants are low enough that she observes the waistline of (silk?) boxers, taut muscle, navel, happy trail, yeah. Bonnie drinks him in like a cool glass of milk before bedtime- never has this much pretty been in her lap before. Her hands find their way in his head again, tousles through and he nuzzles up against her in his sleep. It’s difficult to pull her eyes away from him, but when she does, the credits are rolling on the screen.

This is Damon she’s thinking about like this, her best friend and also her first best friend’s boyfriend. She repeats it again, not satisfied that the guilt isn’t drowning her like it sometimes does when she catches herself lingering on his attractiveness for too long but Mystic Falls, the real Mystic Falls seems so far away. Elena, Caroline, Matt, Alaric, her old life just seems unattainable, no bigger than a memory she occasionally mistakes for a bad dream.

There’s no denying that being away from it all, here with Damon as the only other person in the world, she feels…safe. Maybe even protected, it’s a stark contrast from the real Mystic Falls where her life is always on the line.

Bonnie starts to get up when she feels his hold on her tighten to prevent her from moving away. They play tug of war for a bit but she eventually stops fighting because Damon is a vampire after all, physical strength is going to get her nowhere. “Fine,” she grumbles, then plops down which causes the end of her top to ride up enough that she can feel the press of Damon’s nose on the curve of her waist. Despite trying to inch her shirt back down, she has no luck. Naturally Damon doesn’t mind.

He inhales her skin deeply, makes a sound of approval before groggily muttering, “Going topless now, are we Judgey?”

She grabs his hair again, yanks his head back as a rebuttal, and Damon bites his tongue so hard that it bleeds. He has to ensure that all of the blood in his body isn’t rushing south too fast but unfortunately, he would have to sever both his arms completely off to stop the blood flow.

Bonnie realizes the dazed look in his eyes isn’t one of pain nor is it from sleep, “Not the reaction you expected, huh?” He asks, gesturing for her to look down but she doesn’t, she can’t. She’s embarrassed, and to make matters worse, a teensy bit turned on.

“You scared, Bon Bon? I thought you were big and bad,” Damon mocks, pulling between his legs to make more room in his jeans, “it’s okay. I know Jeremy left much to be desired.” He sits up with swirls of longing still in his eyes, then grabs a pillow to place in his lap.

“Scared?” She guffaws. “Of what exactly?”

“Me…You.”

“And that means?”

“You’re a smart girl, Bon, figure it out.” Damon taunts, holding her eyes with his. “It’s awfully lonely here.”

She says nothing for a while, refusing to break eye contact first. “So.”

“Soooo, I won’t tell if you won’t.” It’s almost a joke, almost because she has a feeling if she says yes to whatever sort of ambiguous proposal he’s thrown up in the air, there won’t be any laughter. If she says no, it’s no different from his usual innuendos but boy, will she wonder.

“Wanna take a walk on the wild side?” He asks in a singsong tone, eyes dropping to her lips then back up to her eyes.

There are no alarms, no cell phones, no one here that can interrupt this moment. She has to answer, though she has no idea what will come out of her mouth. Bonnie shuts her eyes to make the moment less real, as if it will change the fact that she whispers, “Just one kiss,”

They’re nose to nose when Damon whispers back, “a peck.”

She swallows his breath. “Mhmm,”

“It’s nothing,”

“Nothing.”

“As light as air,” he presses his lips to hers for a brief moment then pulls back again. “See.” He peppers more kisses on her lips, down her jaw, the side of her neck, but they’re heavier. They have a density now. His tongue is on the flesh of her shoulder, teasing up her neck. She feels the light imprint of sharp canines, arousal surges through her like a power circuit, so intense that she moans. When he makes his way back up, their mouths both open in a feral kiss that robs them of air.

Bonnie holds his face in place though he makes no attempt to move away. The pillow falls out from between them when he grabs Bonnie’s leg to straddle him.

It’s nothing.

Nothing separating them from attacking each other’s mouths, nothing stopping Damon from gripping his best friend’s hips, nothing saving Bonnie from discarding his shirt.

His skin is cool enough that she can stream together some thought in between relentless kisses. “Damon,” she tries her best to sound admonishing.

“Please, not right now.” Damon cuffs both her wrists behind her with one hand and plants a hickey just above her cleavage. She sees stars. He already knows what the inflection in her voice means- the timing couldn’t be worse.“Let’s save the guilt for tomorrow morning.” His tone is octaves lower, almost as low as his lids. He drags his eyes up to hers, and they’re so shiny she can see her reflection. “I need this, Bonnie. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just continues on with his ministrations, hypnotized by the pheromones seeping off of her in waves, wanting to memorize the scent with his tongue. She whines his name, like actually whines his name, and the feeling that sits in the pit of his stomach scares him. Bonnie is so oblivious to the appeal she carries but if she sat in his skin for a day, hell, for a moment, she would realize just how long she’s been driving him insane.

“We can’t,” she groans weakly. “We can’t.”

Damon tries to breathe easier, but that feeling is lurking in his gut. She’s right. The things he’d do to her, he’d break her in half. He removes Bonnie from his lap, separates from her warmth, her scent. Backs away until the tv threatens to fall off the stand. Everything in him tells him to go back, to reenter the magnetic pull, to poke at her forcefield.

He backs away even further if possible. Her breath catches at the distance.

Bonnie’s cheeks are flushed, warm and red like fruit. If she was an apple, she would have already been eaten down to the core. If she was a peach, it would be easier to explain why he ate her. He thinks to himself that he’s officially off the rails, comparing Bonnie to fruit like he is, but he’s trying to rationalize his irrationality. Because if Bonnie never stopped him, he’d definitely be eating something by now.

“Nothing happened.” She says, ignoring his expression and the silent plea in his eyes.

“Nothing.” He deadpans, throwing his shirt back over his head.

Damon thinks of how different things would be if he had his way. Bonnie, spent, drunk, high off of him. Bleeding and wild, pretty and dangerous, yelling for God. He would plunge Jeremy right out of her, help her find her magic again. Give her everything she could dream of. He gulps.

She doesn’t sleep with him tonight, not in the same bed. She’s on the opposite end of the boarding house when he hears her slide under the covers.

The next morning, he thinks to himself, if she even utters a word about last night, he’ll pick up from where he left off. But she doesn’t, her eyes are far away again, and the only proof he has of their adventures is the wonderful, purple hickey.

When movie night comes back around, his head is in her lap and her hand is back in his hair, running to and fro like him in his lavender fields.

That’s all he gets.

Every now and then, it’s enough.

Bonnie gives and takes, then takes away some more.

She’s the closest thing to God he’ll probably ever know.

#bamon #bamon fanfiction #bamon fanfic #bamon prompt #prompt #my writing #mine #tvd ff #tvd fanfiction #damon salvatore #bonnie bennett #bonnie x damon #damon x bonnie

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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Text

YouTube Masterlist

Check out who I’ll write for here

Check out my other masterlists here

Want more or something shorter? Check out my drabble masterlist here

DreamSMP

Dream

Dance with Me- Y/N and Clay have a sweet moment early in the morning.

Sweet as Cyanide-The whole server thinks that Y/N is being forced to stand by Dream’s side, but they couldn’t be more wrong. They all believe they’re just a sweet innocent creature, but many times people forget that sweet things can be poisonous.

Visiting Hemlock- (Part Two of Sweet of Cyanide) Y/N is finally able to visit Dream in prison.

Tightrope- Y/N and Dream have been together for what feels like forever. But when Dream says that he cares about nothing anymore, Y/N takes a moment to evaluate the tightrope walk they call their relationship.

Teacher Teacher- Just a bunch of self indulgent teacher!dream au stuff :)

Sapnap

Goodnight Kisses- The night after a date with Sapnap ends well

Stormy Nights- Sapnap takes care of their s/o that is scared of storms.

Punz

Pretty Boy- Punz takes Y/N on a date to a new biome he found while working. Y/N’s supposed to be looking around at the pretty scenery but they can’t seem to take their eyes off their lover.

BadBoyHalo

Oh Baby-After missing their period, Y/N begins to suspect there may be something else going on in their uterus.

Oh Boy- How Darryl and Y/N tell their families, friends, and fans that they’re expecting.

Wilbur Soot

Just For You- After a long day, Wilbur show’s you something special he made just for you (dreamsmp au)

Deep Trouble- Y/N’s never been good with deep water seeing as they can’t swim. But when her friends want to go to the beach, they can’t deny them their request. Trouble ensues as Y/N doesn’t tell their boyfriend of their inability to swim.

Chat’s a Snitch- Wilbur is streaming his reactions to different covers of his song when his chat informs him his s/o is currently singing his most recent release. He of course joins their stream to bully them.

Stormy Nights-Wilbur takes care of their s/o that is scared of storms.

Fundy

Stormy Nights- Fundy takes care of their s/o that is scared of storms.

Song for you- Fundy makes something special for their best friend using his knowledge of redstone and Y/N.

Character!Schlatt

All JSchlatt imagines are about the character in the Dreamsmp or they are platonic! I will not write romance for the actual CC Schlatt!

Not Your Fault- Y/N has to clear their mind after the results of the election come in. (dreamsmp)

Quackity

Missing you- Y/N gets tired of missing their best friend (dreamsmp)

Character!Technoblade

All Techno imagines are about the character Technoblade in the Dreamsmp or they are platoniclly written with the SBI Au. I will not write romance for the actual CC Techno!!

Gift of Friendship- After Techno gives Y/N some PVP lessons, Y/N is at a loss of how to repay him. Y/N comes up with an idea but is unsure of whether or not the resident Blood God with like it. (dreamsmp au)

Stolen Goods- Techno hides something of Y/N’s. Which is fine because he’s their brother. But what happens when someone else tries something similar? (dreamsmp au)

A Hairy Situation - When Wilbur and Tommy leave on an adventure, Techno and Y/N are left alone together. Y/N “helps” Techno in his potato farm and offers to braid his hair. Tensions rise as more and more time passes. (dreamsmp au)

A Dedicated Pig-(Part One of the Dedicated series) Y/N finally meets the one that everyone has been walking on eggshells over. (dreamsmp au)

Better Than a Dedicated Chicken (Part Two in the Dedicated series)-Y/N gets to see Techno again thanks to the upcoming festival in Manberg. (dreamsmp au)

Dedicated to You- (Part Three in the Dedicated Series)Techno can’t help but get a little jealous as he and Y/N visit L’Manberg and run into old friends. It’s up to Y/N to remind him who they are dedicated to.

A Dedicated and Domesticated Pig- (Part Four in the Dedication Series) Everything comes full circle when Y/N and their family travel to L’Manberg for the annual festival.

Butchered Plans-Y/N finds out about the Butcher Army and attempts to put a stop to their plan (dreamsmp au)

Best Seat in the House- Y/N comes home from a long day of chopping wood and just wants to sit down and warm up. (dreamsmp)

No Worries- Y/N’s been missing for almost a week and the one person that should be worried about them most isn’t worried at all, which upsets some people. (dreamsmp)

Protect You- Y/N tries to warn their boyfriend about the Butcher Army. The prideful man that he ignores their attempts of getting him to flee. By the time he realizes they were right, it’s too late. (dreamsmp)

Wither or Not- Techno attempts to explain to his partner just why he betrayed L’Manberg. (dreamsmp)

Fool Me Twice- Y/N is left with only one option after Techno destroys their home and their trust. (dreamsmp)

Catch Me If I Fall- What was supposed to be a simple mining trip goes horribly wrong when Y/N doesn’t pay attention to their surroundings. (dreamsmp)

Seeing Red- When Y/N gets kidnapped by the Butcher Army to lure their boyfriend to L’Manberg, Technoblade sees red and is willing to do anything to get them back… Anything. (Dreamsmp)

Calm During the Storm- Unexpected weather strikes leaving Ranboo stranded out in the open. Techno sees him and goes to him and attempts to calm him down. (Dreamsmp. Not an x reader)

Totem Troubles-Gathering materials was supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to end in an almost cannon death. (Dreamsmp)

The Next Step- Techno has a serious conversation with his father about his lover, Y/N and their future plans. (Dreamsmp)

Warming Up- Philza and Techno find something in the snow that definitely shouldn’t be there and take it back to Techno’s house to warm up (Dreamsmp)

Okay, Bet- Y/N and Dream make a bet for half a stack of golden apples. (Dreamsmp)

The Blade-Y/N is forced to face their biggest fear when it quite literally comes knocking at their front door. (Dreamsmp)

Prison Break- Techno frees you from your wrongful prison sentence.

A Part of the Collection- Y/N goes missing for a while... everyone is shocked at where they find them

Prison Break- Techno frees you from your wrongful prison sentence.

Periods suck. Here’s some content about how Techno would act on your period.

Tommyinnit

Besties- What it would be like to be best friends with Tommy and Tubbo

Bring Him Home- Tommy’s big sister visits him in exile.

Tubbo

3am conversations- Tubbo appears on Y/n’s doorstep at 3am. (dreamsmp au)

Lean on Me- Y/N forces their way into Tubbo’s home after Tommy’s exile. (dreamsmp au)

Besties- What it would be like to be best friends with Tommy and Tubbo

Awesamdude

Faking Happy- The bottle Y/N has been filling with their emotions finally tips over and overflows. (dreamsmp au)

Family Matters- After spending a lot of time with Tommy, Y/N and Sam decide its time to expand their own family

Family Fatality- Y/N believed it was a bad idea from the beginning. Call it parental instincts. But unfortunately no one believed them… until it was too late.

Honey Barbecue- Tommy plays wingman for the two people on the server that genuinely care for him

SBI AU

Actually Pretty Funny-Y/N opens up to her big brother as to why she has been avoiding her other brother and his friend.

Crash- Y/N finally crashes after ignoring their needs for too long. (SBI AU)

Defending Family- When Y/N hears the school bully talking shit about their family… Well it’s no surprise when that bully gets hit. (SBI AU)

Crossed Lines-Dream kidnaps Y/N to get some leverage on their brothers. Lucky for him, it’s not too hard as they don’t really know how to defend themselves. Unlucky for him, their brothers are extremely overprotective and will stop at nothing to make sure that their sibling is safe.

Auntie Flow- When Y/N isn’t up by their usual time, Dadza goes in to check on them. He soon realizes the problem and enlists in their brother’s help to make Auntie Flow’s visit go a little smoother.

Stream Stresses-When Y/N makes fun of their brother, chat jumps to his defense by saying some not so nice things about Y/N. The mean things cause Y/N to shut down their stream with tears in their eyes, worrying their father, Philza.

Birthday Bullies- Y/N is being bullied at school. They’re able to keep the secret from her father and brothers for a while. But every cat gets out of the bag eventually.

Ghost of You- Three cannon lives. Some argue it’s too many, some argue it’s not enough. But once Y/N loses all theirs, everyone can agree that there’s never enough

Forget Me Not- The garden. That’s where it all began with Y/N and the Minecraft family… It’s unfortunate that’s where it all ended as well.

Period Piece- Y/N starts their period at the worst time possible, the one time that Philza isn’t home… but their three brother’s are.

Momma Mia- Y/N has been Philza’s best friend for the longest time. Being Philza’s friend also comes with being there for Philza’s sons and sometimes them being there for her.

Whole SMP

Full of Surprises- Y/N is the server’s sweetheart. They’re innocent and couldn’t hurt a fly… at least that’s what everyone thinks. It isn’t until someone catches them working out does the SMP finally see just how badass this person can be.

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thedeadhandofseldon · 3 years

Text

The Anti-Mercer Effect

On the Accessibility of D&D, Why Unprepared Casters is so Fun, and Why Haley Whipjack is possibly the greatest DM of our generation.

(Apologies to my mutuals who aren’t in this fandom for the length of this, but as you all know I have never in my life shut up about anything so… we’ll call it even for the number of posts about Destiel I see every day.

To fellow UC fans - I haven’t listened to arc 4 yet, I started drafting this in early August, and I promise I will write a nice post about how great Gus the Bard is once I get the chance to listen to more of his DMing).

Structure - Or, “This is not the finale, there will be more podding cast”

So, first of all, let’s just talk about how Unprepared Casters works. Because it’s kind of unusual! Most of the other big-name D&D podcasts favor this long, grand arcs; UC has about 10 hours of podcast per each arc. And that’s a major strength in a lot of ways: it makes it really accessible to new listeners, because you can just start with the current arc and understand what’s going on!

And by starting new arcs every six or seven episodes, they can explore lots of ways to play D&D! Classic dungeon delve arc! Heist arc! Epic heroes save the world arc! Sportsball arc! They can touch on all sorts of things!

And while I’m talking about that: Dragons in Dungeons, the first arc, makes it incredibly accessible as a show - because it lets the unfamiliar listener get a sense of what D&D actually is. (It’s about telling stories and making your friends feel heroic and laugh and cry, for the record). If I had to pick a way to introduce someone to the game without actually playing it with them, that arc would definitely be it.

And I’d be remise not to note one very important thing: Haley Whipjack and Gus the Bard are just very funny, very charismatic people. Look. Episode 0s tend to be about 50%(?) those two just talking to each other about their own podcast. It shouldn’t work. And yet it DOES, its one of my favorite parts, because Haley and Gus are just cool.

And a side note that doesn’t fit anywhere else: I throw my soul at him! I throw a scone at him - that’s it, that’s the vibe. The whole podcast alternates between laughing with your friends and brooding alone in a dark tavern corner - but the laughs never forced and the dark corner is never too dark for too long.

Whipjack the Great - Or, the DM is Also a Player!

I think Haley Whipjack is one of the greatest Dungeon Masters alive. The plots and characters! The mechanical shenanigans! The descriptions!

Actually, let’s start there: with the descriptions. (Both Haley and Gus do this really fucking well). As we know, Episode 0 of each arc sees the DM reading a description - of a small town, or the Up North, or the recent history of a great party. And Haley always strikes this tricky balance - one I think a lot of us who DM struggle with - between giving too much description and worldbuilding, and not telling us anything at all. She describes people and events in just enough detail to imagine them, but never so much they seem static and unreal - just clear enough to envision, but with enough vagueness left to let your imagination begin to run wild.

While I’m thinking about arc 3’s party, let’s talk about a really bold move she made in that arc: letting the players have ongoing control of their history. Loser Lars! She didn’t try to spell out every detail of this high-level party’s history, or restrict their past to only what she decided to allow - she gave them the broad outlines, and let them embellish it. And that made for a much more alive story than any attempt to create it by herself would have - but I think it takes a lot of courage to let your players have that agency. Most Dungeon Masters (myself included) tend to struggle with being control freaks.

And the plots! Yeah, arc one is built of classic tropes - but she actually uses them, she doesn’t get caught up in subverting everything or laughing at the cliches. And it’s fun! In arc 3, there really isn’t a straight line for the players to follow, either - which makes the game much more interesting and much trickier to run. And her NPCs are fantastic and I will talk about them in the next section.

Above all, though, I think what is really impressive is how Haley balances mechanics, and rules as written, with the narrative and rule of cool - and puts both rules and story in the service of playing a fun game. And the secret to that? She’s the DM, but the DM is a player, and the DM is clearly having fun. Hope Lovejoy mechanically shouldn’t get that spellslot back, but she does, and it’s fun. The changeling merchant in Thymore doesn’t really make some Grand Artistic Narrative better, but wow is it fun. And she never tries to force it one way or the other - the story might be more dramatic if Annie didn’t manage to banish the demon from the vault, but it’s a lot cooler and a lot more fun for the players if Annie gets to be a badass instead - and the rules and the dice say that Annie managed it.

Settings feel like places, NPCs feel like people, and the narrative plot feels like a real villainous plot.

Anyway. I could go on about the various ways in which Whipjack is awesome for quite a while - she’s right, first place in D&D is when your friends laugh and super first place is when they cry - but I’m going to stop here and just. Make another post about it some other time. For now, for the record I hold her opinions about the game in higher esteem than I do several official sourcebooks; that is all.

Characters - Or, Bombyx Mori Is Not an Asshole, And That Matters

Okay, I said I would talk about characters! And I will!

Just a general place to start: the party! All of the first three parties are interesting to me, because they all care about each other. Not even necessarily in a Found Family Trope sort of way, though often that too. But they generally aren’t assholes to each other. The players create characters that actually work together, that are interesting; even when there’s internal divisions like SK-73 v. Sir Mr. Person, they aren’t just unpleasant and antagonistic all the time. Listening to the podcast, we’re “with” these people for a couple hours - and it isn’t unpleasant. That matters a lot. (To take a counter-example: I love Critical Role, but the episode when Vox Machina pranked Scanlan after he died and was resurrected wasn’t fun to listen to, it was just uncomfortable and angering and vaguely cruel).

All of the PCs are amazing, and the players in each arc did a great job. If you disagree with me about that, well, you have the right to be incorrect and I am sorry for your loss. Annie Wintersummer, for one example: tragic and sad and I want to give her a hug, but also Fuck Yeah Wintersummer, and also her familiar Charles the Owl is the cutest and funniest and I love him. And we understand what’s going on with Annie, she isn’t some infinite pool of hidden depths because this arc is 7 episodes and we don’t have time for that, but she also has enough complexity to be interesting. Same with Fey Moss: yeah, a lot of her is a silly pun about fame that carries into how she behaves, but a lot of how she behaves is also down to some good classic half-elven angst about parenthood and wanting to be known and seen and important. (Side note: if your half-elf character doesn’t have angst, well, that’s impressive and also I don’t think I believe you).

There are multiple lesbian cat-people in a 4-person party and they both have requited romantic interests who aren’t each other. This is the future liberals want and I am glad for it.

Sir Mister Person, the human fighter! Thavius, the edge lord! Even when a character is “simple,” they’re interesting, because of how they’re played as people and not action-figures. And that matters a lot.

In the same way: the NPCs. There really aren’t a lot of them! And some of them come from Patreon submissions, so uh good work gang, you’re part of the awesomeness and I’m proud of you! The point being, the NPCs work because enough of them are interesting to matter. It’s not just a servant who opens Count Michael’s door, it’s a character with a name (Oleandra!) and a personality and history. They’re interesting. Penny Lovejoy didn’t need to be interesting, the merchant outside the Laughing Mausoleum didn’t need to be interesting, but they ARE! And Haley and Gus EXCEL at making the NPCs matter, not just to the story but to us as viewers. I agree with Sir Mister Person, actually, I would die for the princesses of the kingdom. I actually care about Gem Lovejoy of all people - that wouldn’t happen in an ordinary campaign! That’s the thing that makes Unprepared Casters spectacular - and, frankly, it’s especially impressive because D&D does not tend to be good at making a lot of interesting compared to a lot of other sorts of stories.

And, just as an exemplar of all this: Bombyx Mori. Immortal, reincarnating(?), and described as the incarnation of the player’s ADHD. I expected to hate Bombyx, because as the mom friend both in and out of my friend-group’s campaigns, the chaos-causer is always exhausting to me. And yeah, Bombyx causes problems on purpose! But! She is not an asshole.

And that’s important. Bombyx goes and sits with the queen and comforts her. Bombyx gives Annie emotional support. Bombyx isn’t just a vehicle to jerk around the DM and other players; Bombyx really is a character we can care about. To compare with another case - in the first couple episodes of The Adventure Zone, the PCs are just dicks. Funny, but dicks. Bombyx holds out an arm “covered in larva” to shake with a count, and robs him of magical items, but she also cares about her friends and other people! She uses a powerful magical gem to save her fertilizer guy from death! Yeah, Bombyx is ridiculous, but she’s not just an asshole the party has to keep around for plot reasons; you can see why her party would keep her around. And one layer of meta up, she’s the perfect example of how to make a chaotic character like that while still being fun for everyone you’re playing with, which is often not the case. And I love her.

The Anti-Mercer Effect - Or, “I think we proved it can be fun, you can have a good time with your friends. And it doesn’t have to be scary, you can just work with what you know”

The Mercer Effect basically constitutes this: Matthew Mercer, Dungeon Master of Critical Role, is incredible (as are all of his players). They’re all professional story-tellers in a way, remember, and so Critical Role treats D&D like a narrative art-form, and it’s inspiring. Seeing that on Critical Role sets impossible standards - and people go into their own home games imagining that their campaigns will be like Critical Role, and the burden of that expectation tends to fall disproportionately on the DM. And the end result, I think, of the Mercer Effect is that we get discouraged or intimidated, because our game isn’t “as good as” theirs. (And I should note - Matt certainly doesn’t want that to be our reaction).

So the Anti-Mercer Effect is two things: it’s D&D treated like a game, and it’s inspiring but not intimidating. And Unprepared Casters manages both of those really freaking well. Because they play it like a game! A UC arc looks just like a good campaign in anyone’s home game. They have the vibes of 20-somethings and college students playing D&D for fun because that’s who they are (as a 20-something college student who plays a lot of D&D, watching it felt like watching my friends play an especially good campaign). They’re trying to tell a good story, sure, and they always do. But first and foremost, they’re trying to have fun, and it shows, and I love the UC cast for it.

And that’s the other half of it: it’s inspiring! It’s approachable; you can see that Haley and Gus put plenty of work into preparing the game but it also doesn’t make you feel like you need hundreds of pages of worldbuilding to run a game. Sometimes a cleric makes Haley cry and she gives them back a spell-slot from their deity! That’s fantastic! It’s just inspiring - listening to this over the summer, when my last campaign had fallen apart under the strain of graduation, is why I decided to plan and run my new one!

That quote from Haley Whipjack that I used as the title for this section? That’s the whole core of this idea, and really, I think, the core of the podcast.

The Mercer Effect is when you go “that’s really cool, I could never do that.” But Unprepared Casters makes you look at D&D and go “wow, that looks really fun. I bet I can do that!” And I love the show for it.

And I bet a lot of you do too.

#unprepared casters #bombyx mori #haley whipjack #long post #this is really rough but I don't have time to keep working on it and it's already a month later than intended

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aboardthehavocmarauder · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 3]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

Fall on your knees, sweet girl

Sweet girl...

——

“SHES A FUCKING JEDI”

“And how the fuck would you know that?”

“HER PETITE FUCKING ASS CANT TAKE DOWN A TREE IN A SINGLE PUNCH”

“You think she used the force?”

“She did! Don’t believe me?! Wait till the next incident”

Y/N frowns outside the cockpit hearing Cross talk about what he saw with Hunter and Tech. She straightens up when Echo came into the common area seeing the angered look on her face. He didn’t say a word. They stood in the silence and Y/N felt overwhelmed all of a sudden causing her to leave the room, before he could reach—-

“Don’t touch her Echo. We don’t know what she’s capable of” Tech states witnessing what just happened as Echo gave him a worried look.

——

“You’re taking on a Padawan? You know what Anakin turned out to be. You think you’ll produce a normal one?”

“They are Anakin’s age now. Not a child. I believe I can train them to be the best”

“A little late to find a force sensitive being”

“I didn’t find her, she found me”

“I trust you Obi Wan. But—“

Don’t be surprised by the hardships

——

Wrecker finds himself in the storage compartment looking for extra ration bars in their food supply when he saw Y/N sitting on the ground propped up against her crate staring at the ceiling.

“Hey?” He tilts his head confused seeing the redness in her eyes and swollen cheeks. “Hey Y/N...what’s wrong?” He decided to sit with her waiting for her to respond and if she didn’t, he would’ve stayed as a comfort.

“I’m a monster Wrecker”

“What? I don’t think so”

“Crosshair does, he’s telling everybody what he saw in the forest. Just another monster in this galaxy full of darkness”

“Okay now that’s a lot of talk. I’m going to need context”

“He didn’t tell you? None of your brothers did?”

“Honestly I ignore what most of them say” Wrecker laughs as he handed her a ration bar seeing her take the offer.

“I worked on your ship for a year before you decided to add me on this journey with you all. Then it’s been six months and as much as you’re all close with one another...I don’t think I’ll ever been looked at normally ever again”

“Y/N...from the time with the scar thing. Scars are scars. It was stupid of us to push you to tell us what happened. As for this recent thing. Speaking for myself, I don’t care what you are. You’re Y/N. A badass mechanic that knows a lot more than we expected. And if shit changes. Who gives a fuck? Imma still like you for you. Besides. Half of my face is a scar and I don’t give a fuck” Wrecker smiles hearing her laugh a little, feeling better.

——

“Two lightsabers? Ha! This will work nicely for you young apprentice”

Y/N stares with grey covered eyes standing still like a solider as the dathomirian receives the kyber crystals for the hilts before handing the new and improved sabers to his mindless slave.

“You’ll receive a new look. Keep you hidden away from the so called Jedi you used to call your family. Little do they know your parents died and adoptive sister left. Or you left her. I’ve always wondered why you did so”

“I wanted to become a Jedi, Odious...” Y/N says groggily before freeing when he started to force choke her. “I’m sorry sir...”

“Mmm. Are you truly, sweet girl?” He smirks pushing her against the wall and keeping her there like a wall ornament. “We don’t want you to remember to good old days...we need information and you will kill for it if it deems necessary” Odious laughs squeezing his hold hearing her choke. “You will kill if they won’t expose their secrets. We will take down the Jedi council”

Soon Y/N dropped on her side feeling the cold ground turn into a cold surrounding. Feeling like death was crawling in but she quickly stood to their feet seeing Odious’s accomplices approach her to start the appearance change.

No one said it was pain-free

——

Returning to Coruscant, Y/N thought she was being dropped off but Hunter assured her it was for Echo to receive some simplicity with his brothers in blue.

Even the clones need to go back to their home.

“You coming?”

“No”

“But come on. The mess hall will have more of those ration bars you like” Wrecker adds as Y/N stayed glued to her seat feeling a weight grow in her chest when she sensed him. “Y/N?”

“I can’t Wrecker...I know we’ll be here for three days but I’m safe here”

“Well you know where we’ll be” He smiles being the last stepping off the ramp as it closed behind him.

But it didn’t take until nightfall for Y/N to step out and take a look at something that over came their thoughts.

——

“You’ll be staying”

“No Obi-Wan”

“Y/N you’ve come so far. Why give up training now?”

“Your master was a grey-Jedi because he didn’t believe in the rules the council had held accountable on us all. I can’t live in a cult that doesn’t want me to seek out for more in my life”

“But you can—“

“I’m not becoming a whore of the Jedi council all because I can fuck every man that steps into the facility. I want to fall in love. I want to be free. Free from my personal burdens. Reunite with my sister. Go home. I won’t be corrupted Obi Wan. You can keep your tabs on me if you like. But I cannot be here”

“Y/N. Please”

“Take a look behind you Obi Wan, and what do you see?”

Obi Wan turns around to look at the city of Coruscant erupt in colors and volumes of plenty. He was about to say something but when he turned around.

She was gone

——

And now she’s returned

Y/N stepped into the quarters she stayed in during her time there. The nostalgia started to hit when the familiar feeling returned.

“Leave”

“Y/N—“

“Leave me alone” She frowns clenching her fists. “You shouldn’t have come out of whatever corner you were in”

“Y/N it took courage for you to come back inside this place. Please just let me spe—“

Obi Wan suddenly hit the wall outside of her room as she stepped out quickly leaving.

“General I heard—“ Cody stopped talking seeing Y/N and his General on the floor, triggering him to take out his weapon. “You stay right there”

“Don’t hurt him Y/N”

“I’m not a monster like you Kenobi” Y/N frowns lifting her hands and before Cody could even do anything, she booked it in the other direction.

“What the—“ Cody started chasing after her as Obi Wan quickly gets on his feet following in suit after the two.

Having no obstacle in the way made it easy, until Cody called in reinforcements from Rex and a few more from the 501st.

“This—“

“It’s Y/N. Why would Cody—“

“Cody explain?!”

“Cody stand down for maker’s sake” Obi Wan states. “You can’t just—“

“They—“

“NO” He snaps as the distress in his voice made Cody finally stop thinks but the actions still confused his brothers. “Now leave. All of you. Except Y/N”

As the sun sets on today

We’ll never know about tomorrow

——

“General Kenobi. New information has come up”

“What about this time Cody?”

“About fugitive x. You said to dig up anything on them and we got something”

Obi Wan turns to Cody seeing the information on the datapad and taking it, leaving to process this all.

Fugitive X

Name: Y/F/N Y/L/N

Found in the streets of the black market wielding duel lightsabers. Nothing life threatening. But they were found with a kyber crystal that was floating around in the market.

“This...isn’t giving me anything...” Cody frowns flipping through the pictures and finding the video from one of the street cameras of them taking out a knife and suddenly—-

Fuck

——

“Why didn’t you come back once you escaped?”

“Why would I?”

“What do you mean...”

“Just because you had spies in my life to keep tabs on me. Doesn’t mean they saw everything. You......” Y/N stops talking as she brings her knees to her chest staring out in the scenery as Obi Wan sheds his robe to be comfortable around her just enough. “You...you lost your master. Imagine that pain, but with your humanity, sanity...”

“Y/N, what happened?”

“A lot...”

A lot that nobody knows

Until now

#the bad batch #bad batch #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #wrecker bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #echo bad batch #hunter bad batch #aboardthehavocmarauder

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slutfor-fictionalmen · 3 years

Text

Easy lovings(Denki edition)

Denki x Tsundere! F! reader

Y/n sets out to tell denki of her unrequited crush on him, maybe all isn’t as she thought. Slight smut, fluff

Y/n brushes past her unknown peers to sit at the back of the seminar, swiftly submersing herself into her phone in attempt to avoid all human contact with people she didn’t care about. Well, at least she tried to avoid it.

Her former schoolmates/ now friend group all huddle together with Y/n in various rows, chatty and carefree despite their powerful reputations. “Y/n!! how dare you try to find seats without us!! you KNOW we were all gonna sit together!” Y/n jumps as the shrill voice of the pink girl breaks through the voices to harass her ears.

“I’m not your mother, you can find your own way. And besides, Isn’t your dick appointment attending too? Can’t you go fuck with someone else right now?” Y/n sighs, staring at the blonde man she’s loved since their second year, while he’s immersed in a conversation with their shared lifelong friends. “No can do baby cakes, i’m here for you, and besides, i wanna have my pick of seat before Mineta tries to get his slimy hands on a seat next to us.”

Y/n laughs at the thought of their known associate, it’s been a while since she’s seen him but she still remembers vividly his attempts to grope all the girls in the class. She loved those carefree days, she misses the times where their only real worries were being strong enough and what their crushes thought about them.

Y/n never had to worry about what too many guys thought about her, she never really cared what anyone thought, she had enough to worry about, screw juvenile crushes and unnecessary feelings. She never cared about anyone, with the exception of one guy she liked.

The only guy she’s ever really liked

Denki.

Mina noticed y/n lost in thought and staring at him. She knew that her advice for the stubborn girl was always in vain, but it never stopped her from trying. ”You need to tell him y/n. He feels the same, he always talks about you, it’s time for you to be happy.”

Y/n never listened, but something hit this time. She wasn’t a schoolgirl anymore. She was a badass pro hero with a sharp mind and a kind heart, so what if he doesn't feel the same, just means one less thing to worry about. ‘shoot your shot y/n, you can do this’. Y/n hyped herself up before putting on a brave face and looking at her best friend.

“I’m gonna do it, i have to..... right? i mean what if something happens and he never knows, i would hate that, but what if he doesn’t feel the same i-” Mina grabs her shoulders and shakes her out of her ramble. “shut up and do it.” “i can do this” Y/n walks away, not before hearing her best friend shout “YOU CAN DO THIS” from across the hall.

Y/n shakes, alarmed at her show of emotions. She’s never been one to be emotional before getting to know someone. But this is denki we’re talking about, the most kind guy she’s ever met, funny, sweet, smart, reminding her of a golden retriever in some ways. ‘Mental note, don’t compare him to a dog.’

Y/n approaches the leather clad man with a stoic look on her face, but not before giving him a small smile. “Excuse me, can i steal this man away from you for a sec?” The stranger nods and walks away, leaving Denki waiting awkwardly for her to initiate conversation.

“You ok Y/n? What do you need?” “can i talk to you in private?” “Denki blinks a few times before nodding and following the girl into a secluded area of the building. “Is everything alright?” He reaches out to rub her shoulder as a sign of affection but unknowingly making the plush girl more nervous.

“You know how i never dating anyone in school? Or showed interest to any man of woman in any way?” Denki hesitantly nodded, leaning in. “Well that was because i liked you then-” The blonde laughs running a hand through his hair and letting out a sigh of relief,”So that’s what this is about! Y/n I thought you were dying or something, you can’t scare me like that!.... and to be fair, i was very oblivious, so i’m sorry if i hurt you back then in any way. i would have-”

“Oh my god shut up i’m not finished yet!” He went silent and stared with wide eyes. So much for the emotional presentation. “i liked you then-” “i know-” “and i STILL like you now, I don’t expect you to feel the same, but i cant let my unreciprocated feelings for you affect my ability to work. I’m in love with you, and i have been for years. Now if you’re disturbed or disgusted, too bad. I’m a grown woman and i can feel however the hell i want to feel. and if you feel you can’t work with me, i get that too, i-”

His lips were suddenly on hers. Y/n felt electric, she felt alive. Everything fell away while denki shut her up with a kiss. “For someone who doesn’t open up very often, you sure do talk a fuck ton.”

He gently set his forehead against her own while he backed her up against the wall. Y/n set her hands on his chest, stabilizing herself due to his sudden shift of positions. “Halfway through first year. That’s how long i liked you. And graduation is when i realized i loved you. After school you never answered any of my texts and ignored my calls. The only way i saw you is if we both happened to be invited to the same event. you make it really hard to read how you feel, you know that?” “That’s kinda the point, i don’t open up... that’s why it took so long to tell you.”

Denki smiled, and moved to kiss her forehead, cheek, nose, and lips. She melted into the kiss, relishing in his gentleness, ecstatic to experience his love first hand, not just to imagine it.

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing Denki to kiss her deeper and hold her closer with his hands on her hips. Y/n moaned into the kiss as his grip tightened. He pushed her farther into the wall, spreading her thighs with his knee.

He Kissed down her neck to the top of her outfit, pulling it down slightly to mark her neck. Y/n moans as he nips and sucks at her collar bone, allowing her to tug at his hair while he ground his knee into her mound. “God i love the pretty little noises you make, but i would prefer if they were louder.” Denki smirked at the girls flushed state, continuing the friction on her clothed privates, listening to her sweet moans.

Denki thanked whatever god was up there that he got to see a goddess in this vulnerable state. He memorized every move of her mouth, the curve of her face, the way her face looked contorted with pleasure. He knew that he wanted to see this sight again for the rest of his life, that his only longing would be to please her.

All thoughts were interrupted as the announcer ordered all pro heros to take their seats. Denki looked her in the eye with a smile so bright it could put the sun to shame. He gave her one final kiss and pulled away. “We will continue this, later.”

And for the first time in a while, the flustered y/n was left with a smile on her face.

OMFG THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE AND ITS SO BAD, IM SO SRRY.

#denki x reader #denki x plus size #plus size!reader #plus sized reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #bnha x chubby reader #boku no hero academia #mha x chubby reader #fluff #smut

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waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 3 years

Text

watched s11ep1

i will provide you with a quick review before i disappear back into the ether of twd avoidance

lots of spoilers under the cut. also i wrote way too much and i worked all night and haven’t slept so i didn’t bother to reread literally any of it, so it might be completely nonsensical, tho if you don’t expect that from me by this point idk whose blog you’ve been reading

enjoy:

hokay, first off, i’ll start by saying that i enjoyed it more than i expected to. i’ve been avoiding any sort of discussion about stuff, but my google algorithm is so fucked at this point that i still get recommended articles and stuff every now and then, so i was already pretty aware of what i was walking into, and was expecting it to be eh, but actually i prob enjoyed it more than i enjoyed the finale

(don’t get too excited tho, the finale was rly boring lmfao)

anyway

episode starts off with a tense scouting mission

it takes .005 seconds into the episode for caryl to exchange a look of longing, establishing that they are still having weird conflict and are both too fucking stubborn to do anything about it even tho they hate it desperately

i imagine that will continue for a while

rosita, kelly, carol, maggie, what’s her face with the bad hair, and lydia (i think that’s everyone?) lower down to some army bunker or something, where a bunch of walkers are taking a snooze, and the girls are very respectful of walker naptime, and do their best not to wake them up

obviously they eventually wake up, but i’ll get to that in a sec

as they’re tiptoeing through the walker tulips, there’s this split second where carol spots a machine gun, and looks at maggie with a face like, “can i plzzzz, i am mad horny for that machine gun,” but maggie tells her no. (i 110% expected her to defy orders and accidentally wake up all the walkers, but she actually behaved herself for once. well. mostly)

never fear, tho, after the girl gang collects a bunch of MREs they go back to wait for the dudes waiting up top to pull them up, and bc men ruin everything, one of the ropes break, and daryl catches it before it falls, but then a slow motion drop of blood falls on a walker’s face, and just like that, walker naptime is over, and carol uses her bow and arrow for two seconds before she is like “fuck this” and whips out the machine gun

yes, she is super hot using it

yes, daryl watches her do it

anyway, all the other girls get rescued, and carol is about to be pulled up, but bc she is a #girlboss, she first makes a beeline for one more crate full of MREs. daryl covers her while she gets the loot, and when she gets back up top they have another charged moment as carol hands him back his knife

just fuck already, jfc

titles!

cut to alexandria where everything is still not smilestimes

BUT, we do get to see uncle daryl run and hug rj and judith (and dog), and FUCKING HERSHEL JR, LIGHT OF MY LIFE is also there

istg, they could not have casted a better child, i a d o r e him

oh, and some friends of maggie’s show up too, idk

cut to a staff meeting where everyone is like, whomp whomp, we’re all gonna starve to death unless we figure out something quick

cue maggie going, “oh, i know where food is, but it requires me to tell you my tragic backstory, in case anyone didn’t watch my bottle episode”

she tells her dramatic backstory about all her friends getting slaughtered by the reapers for no apparent reason, and then she’s like “anyway, let’s go back there!”

no one thinks it’s a great idea, but a group of people decide to go anyway, including daryl and gabriel. rosita is super pissed that gabriel is going, and carol doesn’t go, probably partly bc it’s a shitty fucking idea, and also bc they have to keep caryl apart bc otherwise they’ll fix their problems ahead of schedule and they won’t be able to drag out the needless angst

daryl looks kind of annoyed that carol doesn’t volunteer to go

bitch, i thought you wanted her to stop putting herself in the line of fire! make up your damn mind!

moving on

cut to a thunderstorm, where, if you look closely, you’ll notice daryl is wearing the STUPIDEST hat i’ve ever seen. just get an umbrella, jfc

for some reason negan is with them, bc ig he knows his way around washington dc, and no one in six years has bothered to figure out how to get around the city and/or get a map, and he is like “hey guys, maybe we shouldn’t try to walk in this fucking hurricane,” and everyone is like “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!”

this will be a common occurrence

but eventually daryl is even like “actually, it’s rly unpleasant out here, and my hat is mad stupid, can we go inside plz?”

so they go inside an old metro station, which is actually a rly cool cinematic choice. i rly like the idea, and they executed it rly well

speaking of executions

there are some fucking RULL CREEPY walkers. idk why they bothered me so badly, but they were what they at first assumed were corpses wrapped up in tarps, but turns out none of them had been properly put down, so they go through killing these rotted bodies that had supposedly been there since The Fall, and it’s very gross and cool

this entire time, btw, negan is like “hey, i know i’m a shitty person, but i have some rational arguments about why we shouldn’t be doing this right now,” and everyone is like, “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!” and he’s just like “god fucking damnit”

(i forgot to mention that at one point, when they’re headed into the metro station, negan is trying to warn ppl of the potential danger, and everyone is ignoring him, and he tries to talk to daryl, and daryl is like “fuck you, you think we’re BUDDIES?” and negan is like “oh, ok, so you’re gonna be like that too? fanfreakingtastic” and it’s very funny)

anyway. a fat monster zombie escapes its tarp at one point, and tries to eat some npc, and negan saves him, again is like “hey, anyone else realize that this is a FUCKING BAD PLAN?”, and everyone is like “we don’t care, you’re still shitty and we’re not listening to you, and you don’t actually care about random npc i would literally not be able to pick out in a lineup bc his face is so generic, you’re not the boss of us!!!”

it’s at this point that negan finally is like, “why am i even here? bc i know how to get around washington dc? do none of you have a map?” and i was like, “right?! that’s what i said!”

it’s then revealed that maggie only brought negan along to murder him under the guise of “oops, he got hurt in the line of duty, it wasn’t my fault,” and daryl has this look on his face that says, “i seriously need to stop hanging out with lethal women bent on revenge bc it’s gonna give me high blood pressure,” and maggie has a badass moment where she points a gun she has for some reason at negan and is like “i have like, one shred of human compassion left inside of me, and if you keep pushing me i will fucking kill you without a second thought, so shut the hell up”

(in her defense, negan had just dropped glenn’s name to purposely antagonize her, which was rude as hell)

(for the record, i’m completely on maggie’s side here, but negan still is right that trapping themselves in a metro station is a bad call)

anyway, moving away from that briefly

i think this jump cut happens sooner, i don’t actually remember, but whatever who cares, point is, we get to the part of the show that actually matters, and that’s anything involving my love, juanita “princess” sanchez

and also eugene, yumiko, and ezekiel

they are being asked increasingly invasive questions by commonwealth ppl, some of which i wish they actually would of answered (what do they use to wipe their asses with?? surely toilet paper has long since become extinct)

zeke, who is so much more tolerable as a character now that he’s not larping as a king, has this incredibly weird and sort of sexually charged moment with a dude in an orange stormtrooper costume, where he’s like, “i bet you were an asshole cop back before The Fall, you stupid fascist, #fuckthepolice, mb literally? idk, this moment has a lot of pent up aggression that could easily translate to hate sex, it might just be the intense eye contact, but w/e, let’s just move along,” and then he has a coughing fit to remind the audience that he’s currently dying of cancer, and orange stormtrooper is like “lolz, loser, drink some water you dumb piece of shit”

cut to the wholesome foursome sitting at a picnic table in a guarded courtyard eating gruel, and yumkio, who finally has a personality, and princess are like “hey, this place fucking sucks, can we leave?” and zeke is like, “yeah, i met this orange stormtrooper who i think might be dtf and/or murder, so we should probably bounce”

but eugene is like, “but i want some hot stephanie ass, and also some bullshit excuse about how mb commonewealth will save alexandria” which, they left before things went super downhill, right? idr. it was after hilltop fell, but they don’t know alexandria got fucked either, if i recall? w/e, not important

two seconds after he says this, they talk to some people who are like “we’ve been here for four months, or maybe it’s been nine, i don’t actually remember, i’ve stopped processing the passage of time,” and the wholesome foursome takes this as a bad sign, tho that’s just the life i’ve lived as a night worker during a pandemic, so i was like #mood

but then they watch some guy get dragged away screaming to get “reprocessed” and eugene is like “ok, nvm, let’s bounce”

(my theory on what “reprocessing” is, is that they’re stuck in a room and have to watch hours and hours of customer service training videos on vhs from the 90s)

i definitely got my jump cut scenes mixed up bc i think the negan accusing maggie of a murder plot thing happened in between this scene and then the next commonwealth scene, but w/e, i’ll just finish what happens in the commonwealth arch

the wholesome foursome are trying to hatch a plan to escape, except princess, my love, is distracted watching some stormtroopers flirt, and the other three are like “wtf, dude, how can you even tell any of them apart?” and princess then tells them every stormtroopers backstory bc she is brilliant and pays rly close attention to shit, and the other three are like, “this is useful information, thank you for being an insane person”

their plan involves yumiko and eugene dressing up as stormtroopers and leading princess and zeke out of the place, which works fine actually, except on their way out they come across the Depressing Wall of Probably Mostly Dead Missing Loved Ones

they’re about to leave, when princess is like, “wait, yumiko, you’re on here, that’s weird huh?”

sure enough, yumiko is on the wall, with a note from ig her sister

the scene ends with yumiko going, “guys...i can’t leave...i have tragic backstory to unveil”

tragic backstory to be continued ig

back in murder metro town, npc and some other npc have stolen all the supplies, there’s a train blocking the track, and a horde of walkers are coming towards them, so things are not going fantastic

they horde is too big to take down, so they start to climb on top of the train car to get away

but dog runs away!

and daryl, being every pet owner ever, is like “gotta go get my dog, guys, try not to get killed while i’m gone, c u soon!” and he ducks under the train and disappears

#priorities

the episode ends with maggie climbing up the train car but getting grabbed by a walker and dangling off the edge, and negan is there and they have a lion king moment where maggie is like, “scar! help me!” and negan is like “long live the king, bitch” and walks away into the shadows, leaving maggie to a potential death

which, while i know isn’t actually going to happen, would be a really fucking funny move on the writers’ part

like, “look, lauren’s back! and now she’s dead, bet you didn’t expect that!”

anyway

my assumption is negan will actually end up helping her up or something, continuing his ambiguous morality bullshit that actually isn’t ambiguous bc he BEAT GLENN TO DEATH WITH A FUCKING BAT WRAPPED IN BARBED WIRE IN FRONT OF HIS PREGNANT WIFE

the maggie/negan arch is kind of dumb, but whatevs, i’ll tolerate it, as long as my boy glenn gets justice in the end

anyway, cue credits!

final assessment: good episode. i’m much more interested in commonwealth than the reapers, tho i am hoping that daryl’s personality-less ex turns out to be a monster killing machine with no conscience, that’ll be fun. princess is a gift from god. hershel jr needs his own tv show. needs more carol (and caryl)

the end! going back into my walking dead free chamber! see you next episode!

-diz

#i didn't mean to recap the entire fucking episode lol #sorry #it's to make up for my lack of content lately #or something #anyway #caryl #twd s11ep1 #twd s11 spoilers #dunlap tp

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whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years

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Yup, Sure Was a Finale

I had an epiphany. The reason why I never re-watched the final two parts of Sozin’s Comet even though I’ve popped in episodes at random many times over the years isn’t that I can’t bear the sadness of seeing one of the best, most engaging narratives out there come to an end.

It’s simply that the finale isn’t all that good.

Some honorable mentions of what was enjoyable.

(+) This

Just this.

(+) The Church of Zutara has another convert

“Are you sure they don’t get together?” Hubster, 2020

(+) The tragedy of Azula

And the fact that it’s acknowledged as such. I hope Zuko will do his best to get her help and have a relationship with her…

(+) Sokka being a big bro

And the whole airship sequence in general. It’s wonderfully paced and plotted, with moments of humor, real stakes, Toph being both badass and a scared crying kid, Sokka strategizing and protecting, Suki saving the day, and non-benders being instrumental in thwarting the bad guy firebender’s plans. Would be shame if Bryke never portrayed them this capable ever again…

And now for the main course.

(-) Blink and its over

The wrap-up feels too quick (hashtag Needs More ROtK-style False Endings). A part of this is due to how fast the story goes from the thick of the action to hastily tying up a bunch of loose ends, but the larger issue is how Book 3’s uneven pacing comes home to roost. After spending half a season on filler episodes that at best subtly flesh out established characters while dancing around a huge lionturtle-shaped hole, and at worst contradict the theme of “no one is born bad” with “you’re a hot mess because your great-grandfathers didn’t get along too well”, the frantic “go go go” rush of the second half screeches to a halt with “they won and everyone was happy because now the right people have power and it will be all good from now on yup nothing more to deal with baiiiii”.

Yes, I know, it’s a kids’ show. But goddamn, this particular kids’ show has proven so many times it can do better than the expected tropiness. Showing the characters in their roles as builders of a new world was the least that could have been done.

Oh well!

(-) Ursa

We’ll never know. There will never be a story that delves into this. Yup. Shall forever remain but an intriguing mystery. Is good, though. Mystery is better than a story where Ursa shares her son’s penchant for forgetfulness. Imagine how embarrassing that would be. Speaking of which…

(-) What does Mai see in this jerkbender?

Look, I like to harp a lot on the mess of inconsistent writing that’s Mai but let’s unpack this scene from her perspective, shall we?

Zuko forgot about her! It totally slipped his mind that the one person who prioritized the safety of his dumb ass was rotting in the worst prison in the Fire Nation—because of him! And she was rotting there long enough after the final Agni Kai for the news of Zuko’s upcoming coronation to spread and her uncle to feel sufficiently secure to release her. But then the coronation scene is attended by every single member of Gaang & Friends that was imprisoned?

So what this tells me is that either a) the invasion force had the ability to break themselves out the whole time and for some reason decided not to exercise it until after the war was over, b) Zuko forgot about them as well and no one thought to remind him there were prisons full of POWs until Mai arrived, or, and that’s even better, c) Zuko took care to free every single resistance fighter while making sure Mai would be the one to stay behind bars.

Never thought I’d say this but Mai? Honey? You deserve so much better.

(-) “What does Katara want?”

Asked no one in the writers’ room ever, apparently.

This is not so much anti Cataang as anti romance stories that pay attention to the needs, opinions, and wants of only one partner in general. Over the previous 60 episodes, Katara actively expressed romantic interest in Aang exactly, wait for it,

Once.

And it got retconned out of relevance by the following two interactions where the possibility of a romantic relationship came up, making the Headband dance pretty easy to reclassify as just one of those examples where Aang “teaches” Katara to have fun (as if one of the main obstacles to her having fun wasn’t him constantly fooling around and offloading his duties). And because the writers not only didn’t succeed in portraying Katara’s internal state of mind, but also failed to root her reluctance to pursue a relationship in outside circumstances that could change, her sudden state of unconfused once Aang steps into the spotlight has a single canonical explanation that as much as approaches coherency.

The fact is, though, that trying to interpret canon Cataang from a Watsonian perspective is an exercise in foolishness. Because there is no Watsonian justification for the ship and never has been. Bryke simply conceived of Katara as nothing but a tropey prize for Aang, never saw her as anything beyond that, and were perfectly happy to go on and immortalize her as a passive broodmare for the rest of her life.

And I fully intend to die mad about it.

(-) Iroh dips

OK, it’s been long apparent that the show doesn’t intend to do anything about Iroh’s complicity in AzulOzai’s regime in any meaningful way, and that his sole motivation for doing anything whatsoever is Zuko whom he views as a replacement son which is supposed to be good for some reason. But the finale has him abandon even that, and instead turns him full-on YOLO, idgaf anymore. It really throws Iroh’s supposed love for Zuko into doubt when his last act in the entire show is to take a half-educated 16-year old with no political savvy or an heir to secure a dynastic continuity and plomp him on the throne of a war-mongering imperialist regime where the entirety of the militarist and ruling class is guaranteed to fight him tooth and nail for power.

(I sure hope Mai’s ready to start popping out babies by tea-time otherwise the whole country is fukd in about a week)

Christ, how hard would it be to have Iroh keep the throne warm for a few years while Zuko is getting ready to succeed him? Not only would it make the whole FN reformation bit quite likelier to occur, it would require Iroh’s hedonistic ass to actually sacrifice something for once. And not having Zuko ascend to power, instead spending some time bettering and educating himself first, would be a wonderful message that no matter what you endured and overcame, you never stop growing. A kids’ show, remember?

(-) The conquering of Ba Sing Se

Gee, I feel so blessed to have my attention diverted from battlefields which actually matter to an old dude vanity project I would have been perfectly happy to assume resolved itself off-screen.

The White Lotus in general just bugs me. I was fine with the individual characters and their overall passivity when they were portrayed as lone dissenters living under circumstances where it wasn’t really possible for any single person to mount a meaningful resistance. But as members of a far-reaching shadowy organization that’s left the real fight to a bunch of kids for 59 episodes straight and didn’t turn up until a perfect opportunity presented itself to take control of the largest city in the world and bask in the spotlight?

Yeah, no.

Similarly to the lionturtle-ex-machina, the White Lotus represents a huge missed opportunity for a season-long storytelling. Here’s just a brief list of what they could have been doing throughout Book 3:

orchestrating a Fire Nation uprising;

gathering those directly persecuted by AzulOzai’s regime to help Zuko keep his hold on power once he’s crowned;

establishing themselves as a viable alternative to Ozai;

sabotaging Fire Nation’s war efforts from the inside;

countering Fire Nation propaganda (Asha Greyjoy’s pinecones, anyone?);

running a supply network to alleviate the suffering of Earth Kingdom citizens.

Instead, they sit on their asses until the time comes to claim personal glory.

You know what, good on Bryke for making me conclude that in comparison, the Freedom Fighters were perfectly unproblematic, actually.

(-) Fire Lord Dead-by-Dawn

Yes, a kids’ show, I know! But ffs, this is the same kids’ show that came up with Long Feng and portrayed courtly intrigue, kingly puppets, secret police, spy networks, and information wars. Was it really too much of me to expect something other than “enlightened despot solves everything”? Especially if said enlightened despot has persisting anger issues, no personal support system, no base of followers, and no political experience whatsoever?

If Zuko’s actually serious about regaining the Fire Nation’s honor (i.e. by dismantling the country’s military machine, decolonizing the Earth Kingdom, paying reparations to everyone and their lemur, and funding any and all cultural restoration projects Aang and the SWT come up with), then there is no way, no way in the universe that he doesn’t face a civil war, deposing, and execution within a month.

One reason why his future as a Fire Lord seems rather bleak is that little’s been shown about the actual subjects of AzulOzai’s regime. While we get a vague reassurance that “no Toph, they’re not born bad” (le shockings), they largely remain a voiceless uniform mass of brainwashed clapping seals. What is their view on the Fire Nation’s crimes? Do they associate their condition with their country’s war-mongering? How will they react when Zuko starts dismantling the country piece by piece to rebuild it, bringing it to economic ruin? What will they do when noble Ozai loyalists come out of the woodwork and begin rounding them up under the banner of “Make the Fire Nation Great Again?”

I have no idea, and Zuko doesn’t either because he’s unironically more qualified to rule the Earth Kingdom than his own people.

You know what would have been better? Fire Lord Iroh, White Lotus pulling the strings to maintain the regime, and Crown Prince/People’s Champion Zuko travelling the Fire Nation with Aang and an army of tutors to promote the new boss, only to realize that absolute monarchy is kinda crap for the people he’s one day supposed to rule and gaining their support by ceding some power to them.

I’d laser holes into my TV due to how much I’d enjoy watching that.

(-) All hail Avatar Rock

Literally and metaphorically. Aang doesn’t sacrifice anything, gets everything, and the clever solution of going about getting said everything is handed to him on a silver platter, requiring no active participation on his part whatsoever.

He doesn’t work to unblock his chakras, spiritually or physically.

He only speaks to his past lives to get a pat on the back and a bow-tied solution he could mindlessly follow.

Energy-bending doesn’t require any sacrifice from him, leaves no lasting marks, and only serves for the narrative to praise him as the rare individual that’s unbendable and thus so very very special.

The most infuriating thing is, however, that Aang is clearly shown as being able to beat Ozai without either the Avatar state, or energy-bending.

And he chooses not to. From this moment on, Aang no longer fights to save the world. He fights to preserve his beliefs, going directly against the instructions of his past lives and effectively reneging on his duties as the Avatar.

Again.

It’s not like you can’t portray Aang’s faithfulness to his spiritual beliefs as the key to beating Ozai and saving the world. But that’s not what the show did. There is no link between Aang sparing Ozai and securing a better future, quite to the contrary—Ozai’s survival ends up being a massive problem for the continuation of Zuko’s rule, and consequently a threat to the world at large. His survival benefits Aang and no one else.

Aang’s spiritual purity and his status as a savior of the world are allowed to coexist only due to a deliberate stroke of a writer’s pen.

And I hate it.

Welp, nothing to do about it now except to bury myself up to my tits in fix-it fics I guess.

#atla #atla rewatch #meta #zutara #anti bryke #anti-kataang #anti-aang #anti-maiko

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omg-imagine · 3 years

Text

All We Are

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: V is jealous after Johnny’s date with Rogue, which leads to an honest discussion about where they both stand.

Words: 1.7k

Warning: spoilers for Blistering Love side job, a little angst

A/N: Requested by an anon. This may be a bit different than what you were expecting, but I was in the feels™. Hope you still enjoy :)

Also, can we please talk about how adorable he looks in the gif??

The long drive back to the apartment was silent; the utter stillness in the car weighs heavily on V’s mind. Hands gripping tight on the steering wheel, she tries to ignore this unsettling ache she has, not allowing even an ounce of thought to pass. Though she chalks it off as a side effect of the pseudoendotrizine, this strange, hollow feeling of hers continues to stir deep inside, burning, burning and burning.

And so, she switches on the radio and focuses ahead on the stretch of road winding down the North Oak hills, the approaching lights of Night City glowing brighter against the inky skies. A fresh breeze flows into the open windows, dulling the tension for a moment.

A moment of tranquility that ends far too soon, yet it was a moment V’s at least grateful to have.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Johnny points out, the gruff baritone of his voice piercing the air. “An enny for your thoughts?”

Kicking his feet up on the dashboard, his aviators glint in the silver moonlight, making him appear impossibly more obnoxious than he usually is. He acts as if he’s not aware of the recent thoughts plaguing V’s head, but perhaps that truly was the case. If it were, then she would be surprised— Johnny often invades her mind, poking and prodding at things he shouldn’t be. For a while, she assumes he knows.

“Just tired,” V replies monotonously. Her answer was far from a lie; she really was tired. Exhausted, even. All she wants is to collapse into bed, pass out, and hope that for a few short hours, she can forget about today, about everything.

“Huh,” he breathes out, and V spares him not a single glance. “Pretty sure somethin’ was up. You’ve been actin’ weird since we left the drive-in.”

A chuckle rumbles through her chest. V still finds it unusual for Johnny to act so… concerned. Almost caring, if she had to be honest. She’s noticed a change in him recently, which became apparent after their conversation in the oil fields. He’s a lot softer now, sometimes sweet, both in his own unique way, of course. As if his rough edges were slightly smoothed out with sandpaper, enough that they no longer cut and make her bleed.

V would often catch him staring when he thinks she’s not looking. She also doesn’t fail to miss the small smile that creeps across his face as she talks. And in those passing seconds that lasts an eternity when the relic malfunctions, Johnny was there to offer her comfort. He’d kneel down to the ground while she coils in agony, whispering promises that this will all be over soon. That one way or another, they would get rid of that goddamn chip slotted in V’s head and ultimately save her life.

Life. Life has a funny way of unraveling itself. Fuck, this all seems like a cruel joke the universe is playing on V. Fate is rarely kind to her, a sad fact she’s accepted over the years. Never would she have imagined that after experiencing the pain of heartbreak and loss, she’d find herself falling for someone at the worst possible time.

And that someone is the imprisoned digital ghost of a rockerboy-turned-terrorist studying her from the passenger seat.

But V’s adamant in denying it. Her life was too fucking complicated for this right now.

“Are you capable of shutting the fuck up for two seconds?” V bitterly snaps, the hands on the wheel clenching stiffly as her jaw. “You got what you wanted tonight. Finally got your dick wet after fifty years, so leave me the hell alone, would’ya?!”

She doesn’t mean to act on her muted anger, but it manages to get the best of her. V knows why, and because of it, she crumbles. She crumbles like the walls she’s built around herself. Like the facade she’s been hiding behind for the past couple of months. Because underneath the dirt and grime, V was just a poor, tragic soul, more worried about losing the man she couldn’t have than her awaiting death.

“Really think that’s what happened?” Johnny asks, pushing his shades up to his head as he shifts to sit up straight in his seat.

V grits her teeth, eyes remaining locked on the road. She had woken up an hour or two after Johnny took over, finding her lips still warm, still swollen. Her hair was tousled, and she had been stripped off of most of her clothes; the scent of Rogue’s perfume lingering on her skin. She didn’t need him to recount; it was all clear to her what had transpired. It was what she agreed on to make him happy, a date with the Afterlife fixer and whatever it could lead up to.

In the end, V regretted it, not because Johnny used her body to sleep with someone. But because even after the rollercoaster ride, the dog tags, the private concerts, and the heart-to-heart they had at his gravesite, she still wasn’t his. He was too hung up over Rogue, and she couldn’t blame him. Having shared a lengthy history, there was no doubt Johnny wouldn’t snatch up the opportunity to win her back.

But then where does that leave V?

“The fuck is wrong, V? Don’t make me figure it out by myself.”

Biting the edge of her lip, she ignores Johnny’s latest question and contemplates swallowing an omega blocker. She doesn’t even care that he’s threatening to search for the truth without her permission. Choosing not to do so, he keeps pressing on regardless, and V was getting pissed off. When he doesn’t stop, she loses her temper and slams on the brakes, the Porsche coming to a screeching halt on a dead street.

Huffing, V pulls over to the side, shutting the car’s engine as Johnny is left bewildered by her actions. Peace and quiet. She yearns for peace and quiet, and the pills would do the trick in an instant. Her hand reaches for the bottle in her jacket pocket, the pounding of her heart echoing in her ears. Popping the cap open, she turns her head to the side, unable to help herself. She sees the tenderness etched in his features, a wordless plea shining in his dark eyes.

“V… Tell me.”

V’s gaze slowly falters, her consciousness at war with itself. The storm of anger in her calms, yet she needs to know what her next move is. She’s always been terrible at this sort of thing, dealing with her feelings and shit. Growing up in the streets of Heywood, she’s learned how to shut people out and keep them out. Biggest rule she had imposed on herself was to never, ever fall for a choom, but this time was different. Despite him being a mere figment of her imagination, she feels safe around Johnny, appreciated and content. The two understand each other on a level nobody else has done. They’ve been through literal hell and would only sink further into it to find a way to survive.

A chrome palm comes to rest on V’s cheek, the sensation oddly warm, oddly familiar. Her attention flickers back to Johnny as he strokes her weary face. His touch was delicate, movements careful and controlled. He treats her as if she were porcelain, afraid that his metal hand would cause her to crack. V exhales deeply, relishing the feeling she’s longed from the moment she had broken that dumb rule of hers.

“Go ahead,” she mumbles, giving Johnny consent for him to read her mind. It only takes a second, maybe even less. V half expects his shit-eating grin to make its appearance. She couldn’t forget how cocky he was, and she thought this would certainly rub his ego.

It never comes. Instead, Johnny’s lips turn up into a genuine smile, one softer than the way his black hair falls to frame his face. V swears she was floating; this doesn’t feel all that real to her. It couldn’t be real. But as the first faint slivers of sunlight appear on the horizon, she starts to believe that she isn’t dreaming nor hallucinating. She was still very much wide awake.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Johnny quips as he leans closer. “You had no reason to be jealous, princess.”

“Why not?”

“Nothin’ happen between Rogue and me,” he clarifies, his fingers pushing back her locks. “Yeah, we made out a little, but I couldn’t go through with it. Wanna know why?”

V nods.

“’Cause I realized that ship sailed a long time ago. We’re too different people now; she’s got her own life, while I got mine sittin’ right here.”

“Johnny…” she murmurs his name as he brings up his other hand to cradle her face. “I wanted to have what you and Rogue had, minus the shitty things you did. But I could feel how much you loved her, how you basically worshipped the ground she walked on. Then I thought, can’t compete with her. She’s a livin’ legend, a badass. Meanwhile, I could be dead the next minute or two, either by this fuckin’ relic or a bullet.”

“Trust me, V, you wouldn’t want that,” Johnny returns, resting his forehead against hers. How could he feel so real? “What you and I have is special. Ain’t felt this way before, not even with Rogue or Alt. Like I said, you’re the fuckin’ closest to me. These feelings you’re afraid of? Shit, I have them too, and I’m fuckin’ terrified. But knowing that you’re here and we both share them, it makes things a lot less scary.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Johnny laughs softly. “Gotta spell it out for ya, huh? Well then, here it goes; V, I love you. I don’t throw that word around randomly, but know that it’s what I feel whenever I think of you.”

V doesn’t waste a second longer. Her lips meet his for a kiss that is gentle and bruising, all at once. They hold one another close, their grasps taut so that the other wouldn’t slip away, not wanting to lose what they’ve gained. Time goes by, ticking in the background as they kiss again and again, but to them, it’s slow, nearly everlasting.

And when it was over, when they finally had to part, they were breathless, panting.

“Love you too, Johnny,” she murmurs into his skin, tone dripping with affection as he hums in response.

Night melds into day, and the city comes back to its fullest life. V kisses Johnny a final time before driving back to the place she calls home, even though she’s found her true one in his heart.

—

Permanent Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @keandrews @feminine-machinegun @fanficsrusz @thehumanistsdiary @flaminasteroid @rowserein @unaspiringwritings @planetkt @breakthenight @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

Johnny Silverhand Tags: @silverse @overheardatthecontinental @meshlababy @ataraxydreams @ineedpeetalikehekneadsbread @savsselfinserts @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @donakamark

*If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to send me an ask or DM!

#johnny silverhand x v #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand fanfic

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

Yami x fem reader drunken confession.

I can attest that a punch to the face really sobers you up quick, because I’ve fallen headfirst to the ground when drunk before. Also my dads been in drunk fights in the military.

Tw: drinking

—

“Okay yeah so maybe the first time I met him I was terrified” you confess after three glasses of wine with Vanessa

“You were?! You were so badass like - don’t you dare speak to me that way! I deserve respect!” She’s trying to mimic you but does a terrible job and you end up laughing hysterically

“I was!! I was about to pee my pants! This mountain of a insanely handsome man spoke to me like I was a child I wasn’t going to take it but I knew right then he’d wipe the floor with me! I was lucky he thought I was funny and offered me a place in his group” you finish your glass and she refills it.

“You had all of us fooled” she says and smirks, looking behind you. You lean backwards over the edge of the couch, your head upside down as you make eye contact with your Captain

“Hey cappy cap” you say with a smile you can’t help but make “how much of that.. did you hear?” You ask and he chuckles, taking a drag of his smoke.

“About all of it ya little scaredy cat” he tries to sound menacing but you just laugh and sit up. You take a drink of your wine and then sigh with a smile “I said I was scared of you once. Not anymore though. Although you’d still wipe the floor with me” you offer him your glass and he takes it before scooting you over to the middle of the couch so he could sit on the edge beside you.

“Damn straight” he says as he downs the glass then holds it out for a refill. You grab the bottle and fill it up before taking a swig. “What’d you first think of me?” You ask and turn towards him, looking up as you rest your head on the back of the couch.

“Well scaredy cat, I thought you were a pain in my ass” you roll your eyes. What did you expect.

He moves his arm to rest behind you on the couch, pushing your head and making you fall into his chest “and I was correct” he says as his arm comes down around you. You look over and find Vanessa passed out in the other side of the couch and you giggle, turning further into Yami so you don’t wake her up

“I also thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” he says and you gasp, looking up into his eyes “you did?” You ask softly and he nods with a smirk “But now I think you’re the biggest pain in my ass, and even more gorgeous now that I know your heart”

You lean up, hoping to kiss him, hoping to know finally what that felt like.

Your elbows and forehead hitting the hard stone made you yelp, Vanessa having kicked you off the couch in her drunken sleep. Yami was chuckling to himself as he picks you up from the ground into his arms “are you okay?” He asks as he carries you out of the common area

“How’s my face?” You ask “perfect” he responds and you laugh “I mean, is there a mark on my forehead? It stings” he nods “there’s a little red bump but I’ll fix ya up”

You’re sitting on the edge of the kitchen table as the first aid kit lays beside you. You’re looking up into his eyes as he looks at your forehead, cleaning and applying a bandage. The impact to your face thoroughly sobered you up and now you were finding it hard to breathe being so close to him.

“Bad news is, your face is permanently disfigured!” You don’t flinch or move, your lips twitch up in a tiny smirk and he chuckles “no pity laugh? No? Okay well you’re not even gonna scar so don’t worry” he says and you smile softly “I never worry when you’re the one taking care of me, Yami”

His cheeks dust pink and he swallows hard “you’re not as dumb as I thought, sweet cheeks” you roll your eyes and reach up to touch him, fingers brushing through his thick dark hair. “Nothing is truly as sobering as a punch to the face, even if it comes by a stone floor” you say with a small smile as he leans into your touch

“Well it would have felt it wrong to kiss you if you were still drunk” he says and you gasp softly, eyes widening as your cheeks burn for a moment. He was so good it almost shocked you.

You chuckle softly “If you don’t kiss me tonight I’m gonna be very hurt” you say as you lean towards him as close as you could, chest against his as you look up at him with a flirty smile

“Don’t worry sweet cheeks. You won’t be hurt by me” he says and then his lips press yours, warm and rough. Exactly like you imagined it.

#yami x y/n #yami x you #yami x reader #black clover yami #yami sukehiro #black clover x y/n #black clover x reader #black clover x you #black clover

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

I Carry Your Heart With Me (Part One)

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Summary: Spencer and the reader are reunited for the first time in fifteen years.

A/N: Very excited to get the ball rolling on this one. I hope you all enjoy it! Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Damien mutters from the passenger seat, his icy blue eyes wide with fright. He pulls his gaze away just long enough to point at a lone cow grazing to the left of the road. “Look! That cow is just like… standing there. No fence around him or anything. What’s stopping him from stampeding into us the second we get out of this car?”

Damien sounds so genuinely horrified that you almost feel bad for laughing. Almost.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Dee. Besides, that cow didn’t even look up when we drove past. We’re not even on its radar.”

“Oh, yeah? Ever heard of a little thing called mad cow disease?” Damien persists, in typical dramatic flair. You roll your eyes at him and he curses underneath his breath. “You know, when I agreed to go with you to this wedding, I pictured something more akin to a five-star resort with a minibar and a heated pool. Not rogue livestock and shitty cellphone reception.”

“You didn’t agree to anything – you practically begged me to take you with me.”

Damien waves his hand, dismissive, his eyes still roaming over the pasture. “Because I wanted an excuse to take a week off work. This is not the controlled environment I expected.”

“If you don’t quit complaining, I won’t hesitate to push you out of the car and leave you here with the cow,” you retort. In your periphery you’re able to make out Damien raising his middle finger to you. Rude.

You chuckle and fix your attention back on the dirt road. You’re driving almost painfully slowly, because the very idea of having to pay extra for damages to this already astronomically expensive rental car makes you feel nauseated. Despite your efforts, the car is covered entirely in dust. Its once pristine, white paint job has transformed into a muddy color.

There goes my deposit.

You shake your head at the thought. You had more pressing matters to concern yourself with; i.e., the fact that you were approximately five minutes away from coming face to face with the one person you swore you’d never speak to again. Two months seemed like ample time to prepare yourself in theory, but now that it is no longer some far-off thing, you know that your attempts at preparing yourself were in vain. With each day you crossed off the calendar leading to your departure date, your anxiety grew and grew until you worried your poor heart would give out under the stress. Getting onto the plane bound for Montana felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin, and a hefty dose of Dramamine was the only thing that kept you from spiraling as the plane ascended into the air. You slept through the entirety of the trip and, much to Damien’s chagrin, there is a sizeable puddle of drool on his left shoulder to prove it.

The lengthy nap helped. The tight band constricting your chest had loosened, and you pulled out onto the highway feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. You had Damien by your side and five vacation days to enjoy. Your best friend was getting married to the love of her life, and you were hellbent on standing by her side through it all. Spencer Reid can kiss your ass, as far as you are concerned. No way is he going to ruin this for you.

You are still very much clinging your take-no-shit mentality when you breach a hill and the ranch comes into view, effectively expelling every single positive thought from your head. Aforementioned anxiety reappears in full-force and you stomp down on the breaks.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can do this,” you squeak out, casting a look at Damien, whose eyes are trained on the sprawling expanse of the house ahead of you. “We can still turn around – no, we should turn around. There is no version of this that won’t end in me getting embarrassingly drunk and crying in front of everyone. I’m turning around.”

Damien’s hand on yours, strong and steady, is the only thing that keeps you from whipping the car around and retreating with your tail between your legs. His fingers pry your white knuckled grip off of the wheel slowly, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles across your skin. Its sweet and so overwhelmingly gentle that you’re a bit stunned. You glance at him in a silent question, as if to ask who are you, and what have you done with my friend?

He gets the message loud and clear, because of course he does. Damien fixes you with a smile, grip tightening on your hand.

“I’ve seen you hold your own against some of the biggest names in journalism on an almost daily basis – looking damn sexy while you do it, might I add,” Damien chuckles, and you can’t help but give a weak laugh of your own. Damien’s smile grows at this, and he continues, “If you can handle your business against those conniving pricks, I’ve no doubt that you can tough it out for this. You’re not the type of woman that lets some guy dictate what she does or doesn’t do. And you sure as hell aren’t the type of woman that would let some guy rob her of the opportunity to stand by her best friend on the most important day of her life. As the person who probably knows you better than anyone else on the planet, my opinion of you is pretty rock-solid, if I do say so myself. So, unless I’ve completely overestimated the extent of your badassery, I suggest you rethink that plan. What do you say?”

You avert your eyes and swallow against the lump in your throat.

“Spencer’s not just some guy. For a long time, I was convinced that he was the guy,” you whisper. The car is silent, save for the quiet crooning voice of George Michael flowing through the speakers. Damien squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. You blink up at him with wet lashes, lips pulled into a sad smile. “Have you ever been in love?”

Damien shakes his head and rubs his thumb along the top of your hand. “I can’t say that I have, babe. Haven’t been that lucky.”

You let out a shaky breath and bring your other hand up to wipe at your eyes.

“Maybe you’re better off. I’ve only been in love once,” you gesture to your pitiful appearance and choke out a wet laugh. “Look where that got me. He fucking crushed me, and fifteen years later I’m still broken up about it. It’s pathetic.”

Damien frowns and shifts in his seat so that he’s fully facing you.

“I don’t want to hear you say that self-deprecating shit again. You were hurt by someone you gave your heart to, and I can only imagine how devastating that must feel. Being upset about seeing him again does not make you pathetic. The fact that you’re here, about to spend a week with the guy just so you can be there for Cassidy, is pretty damn admirable as far as I’m concerned.” Damien ends his monologue by pulling you into a tight hug, and you couldn’t be more thankful that he’d come with you. Not only was he a secret sweetheart, he also gave the very best hugs.

By the time he releases you, the tension in your chest has eased significantly. You nod once, and Damien’s rewards you with a smile.

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

Damien snorts rather unattractively and rolls his eyes.

“I take back everything. You suck, and I don’t know why I bother with you, you narcissist.”

Now that the mood has lifted significantly, you reluctantly press your foot against the gas pedal.

“Too late. No takesies backsies,” you singsong. “You think I’m sexy and badass, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Damien mutters something undoubtably snarky underneath his breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of gravel crunching underneath the tires. That, and the sound of your blood roaring in your ears as you inch further down the driveway.

The house, a beautiful log cabin with stone accents along the underside, is massive. Standing at two stories tall with a large wraparound porch and more than a dozen large windows, it’s a far cry from the modest little cabin in the mountains that Cassidy had made it out to be. Even Damien is slack jawed at the sight of it, sitting pretty against a back drop of rolling mountains, and you can’t help but feel a little smug.

“Still want to complain about that five-star resort?”

Damien shakes his head dazedly, “I retract my earlier complaint.”

All too soon, you roll to a stop and put the car in park. Several other cars are parked haphazardly in the grass around you, and that annoying voice inside your head wonders which one belongs to Spencer. It’s not that you care – you totally don’t – it’s just that you are kind of hoping that he hasn’t arrived yet. A few hours to acclimate to the environment before having to deal with him would be nice.

“You’ve got this, babe,” Damien murmurs. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, just in case you need a reminder.”

You flash Damien a nervous smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Dee. I’m really glad that you’re here,” you say, before narrowing your eyes at him. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Damien snorts and pushes open the door.

“Get your sassy ass out of the car. I’m ready to mingle.”

As soon as you set foot on the porch, the front door flies open and a flash of curly red hair precedes a collision that nearly sends you flying back into the railing. Ecstatic squeals rip through the otherwise serene evening air and two boney arms envelop you into a tight hug.

“I cannot believe you’re actually here,” Cassidy laughs as she squeezes you tight. Her enthusiasm has you joining in, the two of you laughing happily and pulling back to examine one another. Cassidy places a sloppy kiss to both of your cheeks before throwing an arm over your shoulder. “I fully expected you to just blow off the whole thing, if I’m being honest.”

You cast at Damien, who’s watching on with an amused grin on his face.

“Believe me, she tried.”

Cassidy turns her attention to Damien and extends her free hand.

“I take it you’re the infamous Damien that I’ve been trading emails with?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Wait, what? The two of you have been emailing?”

Damien accepts Cassidy’s hand and gives it a firm shake, all while smiling smugly.

“Yep. Me and Ms. Cassidy go way back.”

“I mean, that’s cool, I guess, but why?”

Cassidy and Damien share a look, both of them shrugging.

“Mainly to talk about you,” Cassidy admits, not even bothering to look apologetic. When you frown up at her she waves her hand dismissively at you. “All good things, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cassidy punctuates her words with a patronizing pat on your shoulder.

“I knew letting you two meet was a bad idea,” you grumble.

Cassidy simply drops her arms from its place on your shoulder in favor of tugging on your hand.

“Come on, sour puss. I want you to meet my husband. He’s a real sweetie – you’re gonna love him.”

A flash of white-hot panic shoots down your spine and you dig your heels into the floor.

“Wait,” you squeak out, eyes wide. “Is… Is he here yet?”

Cassidy’s eyes shine mischievously, briefly flitting up to Damien before returning to you.

“He is. And you’ll be happy to know that pictures do not do the Good Doctor any justice.”

Salt, meet wound.

“Don’t know why you’re telling me that,” you mutter.

“Denial is not just a river in Egypt, my friend,” Cassidy singsongs as she begins tugging you forward. For someone so tiny, she makes easy work of forcing you through the threshold.

The foyer is just as impressive as you expect it to be – beautiful cedar walls and a grand staircase that leads to the second floor. If you weren’t horribly on edge at the current moment, you would definitely comment on the fact that the foyer alone is probably larger than your entire apartment, but you’re too busy scanning the immediate area for tall skinny white guys with stupidly curly brown hair to comment on the grandiosity.

Cassidy leads the two of you to double doors to the right, and just as she’s about to push them open, the shrill ring of your cellphone offers you an out.

You slip your hand from Cassidy’s grip and give her a faux apologetic look.

“I should probably take this – it might be work.”

Damien narrows his eyes at you. “I thought you left your work phone at home.”

You ignore him and begin taking a few steps backwards, “Is there somewhere private I can go?”

An indiscernible look flashes across Cassidy’s face and then her lips pull up into a sugary sweet smile. “Follow the hallway to the very end. Leads to the back porch,” she says. “No need to rush. Take all the time you need!”

Okay, weird, you think to yourself, but the idea of putting off the inevitable for a few extra moments is too tempting to pass up, so you continue your retreat. You make it to the back door in record time and let out a relieved breath as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi, baby. I was just calling to make sure the two of you got there safely.”

You push open the back door and the breathtaking view of the ranch prompts you to take pause; sprawling fields and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, grazing livestock congregating near a lazy stream at the far end of the property, and several horses running across the expanse of the left field. It was wonderfully serene and vastly different from the bustling rat-race that was New York.

You smile to yourself when a loud moo rips through the otherwise quiet ranch. I could get used to this.

“Yeah, we made it,” you murmur into the receiver. “You would love this place, Mom. It’s probably the prettiest place I’ve ever been. I’ll send you a picture when I hang up.”

“How’s Cassidy? Still a little spit-fire, I assume?”

You lean against the railing and let out a snort, “Oh, absolutely. Don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“I’d hope not,” your mother hums. “How does Damien like the ranch?”

“He’s not exactly a fan of the livestock,” you chuckle. “Damien’s never even seen a real cow before. City boy through and through, that one.”

You and your mother share a laugh that dissolves into a comfortable silence. Comfortable, until the telltale clearing of your mother’s throat warns you of the impending inquisition.

“So,” your mother begins. “Are you going to tell me how it went, or are you going to leave an old woman wondering? “

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Fortunately, I have yet to run into him. I may or may not be hiding out on the back porch as we speak in an attempt to avoid just that.”

“Y/N,” your mother chastises. “Prolonging the inevitable isn’t going to make this any easier.”

“I know, I know. I’ll go in there soon. It’s just a lot, you know? I needed to take a breather, first.” Just until my hands stop shaking. Or until Cassidy comes hunting for me. Whichever comes first.

“I know, baby,” your mother coos. “I’m proud of you for trying. Just don’t drag things out, okay? You’ll only make yourself sick with nerves.” Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. The rolling in your stomach can attest to that.

You laugh a humorless laugh, “I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

A tiny movement at the very corner of your vision and a loud creak makes you whip your head around, and what you see has your heart falling to your ass.

Spencer Reid, looking absolutely stunning in a pair of khaki dress pants and a white cable-knit sweater, sits in a porch swing with wide eyes and a book clutched tightly in his hands. Soft, caramel-colored curls frame his face and a five o’clock shadow runs the length of his jaw, adding a bit of grown-up flare to his otherwise boyish features.

He looks every bit as beautiful as he did on the day he broke your heart.

Spencer knows that he should have spoken up as soon as you walked onto the porch. It was immediately obvious that you hadn’t seen him, and he swears he’s one second away from clearing his throat and launching into the introduction he’d been planning for the last sixty days. But the words die on his tongue as he drinks in the sight of you.

You’re so close to him for the first time in years and it’s more than a little bit dizzying. And yeah, he’s used his very limited knowledge of how the internet works to Google you on more than one occasion, but the version of you leaning against the porch railing is a far cry from the pixelized one. A light breeze rolling through the air lifts your hair away from your face, and Spencer’s breath catches in his throat as he surveys every perfect inch, from the curl of your lashes to the smattering of freckles on your nose. He indulges himself, eyes settling on your cherry red lips, fascinated by the way they move as you talk on the phone. Spencer is intimately familiar with those lips – can recall the way they felt pressed against his own. The years spent apart have done nothing to dull the memories. He’s not entirely sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

It amazes him how you’ve somehow managed to change a lot, but also not at all. You stand before him as an oxymoron personified, and it’s a lot for Spencer’s poor heart to take in. Your hair is a bit lighter than he remembers, as well as a little longer, but it still looks just as soft and he can recall with startling clarity how it felt when he used to run his fingers through it. You have a few more laugh lines than you did, as well as a scar on your left elbow that hadn’t been there before, but everything else about you is so painfully familiar that Spencer could almost pretend that no time had passed – that he still knows your body as well as he once did.

Spencer knows this isn’t true. Every seven years, the body resets; old cells destroyed and replaced with new ones. You’ve both spent enough time apart that your bodies have reset twice over. You’re as much of a stranger to him as he is to you.

Spencer positively abhors the thought.

The sound of your laughter pulls him from the depths of his mind, and while the laugh isn’t warm or inviting in the slightest, he relishes it. What was once one of his favorite sounds has existed in his head as only a memory for far too long. Hearing it in person is jarring in the best of ways.

The euphoria he feels dies a horrible death when you speak again.

“I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

Fucking ouch.

Spencer cringes hard, too hard, because the porch swing screeches out an angry creak and you whip around and holy shit, have your eyes always been that entrancing?

He watches as your entire body goes rigid, tensed as if you’re about to bolt. You blink hard, eyebrows drawn together to form an adorably bewildered expression as you assess him. Spencer hopes he doesn’t look too disheveled. He hadn’t even thought to freshen up after his trip, an oversight that he’s regretting terribly as your eyes flit over him.

Spencer isn’t sure why, but he stands up. Maybe it has something to do with feeling vulnerable. Maybe he just wants to close the distance. The two steps he takes towards you support the latter. He’s thankful that you don’t move away, but the blank expression on your face worries him.

The two of you stand five feet apart, but you feel worlds away. Spencer refrains from speaking for as long as he can stand, which is only about thirty seconds.

“Hi.”

Your lips part, and Spencer holds his breath.

“Hi.”

More silence. Spencer gulps.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, cautious. The last thing he wants to do is fuck up within the first five minutes. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth seem to have some sort of disconnect, and Spencer continues against his better judgment. “It’s been a while.”

It’s been a while? That’s seriously the best I can come up with?

Spencer contemplates drowning himself in the nearby stream.

“It certainly has.”

“Five-thousand, five-hundred and seventeen days.” And roughly thirty-six and a half hours, but who’s counting?

Muted noises flow out of your phone speaker and you pull your eyes away from Spencer. He’s both relieved and devastated.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I just ran into someone. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

Spencer agonizes over the fact that he’s been reduced to someone while you and your mother exchange goodbyes. You’re smiling when you look up at him again, but Spencer’s seen what a genuine smile of yours looks like, and this isn’t it.

“I didn’t see you sitting there. My apologies.” Your formality makes the situation all the more excruciating.

Spencer lets out a nervous laugh, “I suppose avoiding me is out of the question now, huh?”

It’s hard to tell who’s more horrified by the words that tumble from his mouth, you or Spencer. A fierce flush spreads across your cheeks. It’s the first crack in your otherwise calm and collected exterior thus far and Spencer relishes in it. Maybe you’re not as unaffected by him as you seem.

“I… I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you stammer, blinking up at him with guilty eyes. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say that I’m undeserving of your anger,” Spencer whispers so quietly that he worries you don’t hear him over the gentle flow of the stream. The hardness that returns to your eyes lets him know that you heard every word.

You clear your throat, signaling your unwillingness to discuss that particularly painful topic. “You’re still partial to Cummings, I see.” You gesture to the book clutched tightly against his chest.

Now, it’s Spencer’s turn to blush. The book in his hands, tattered and worn from years of use, is incriminating. The two of you both know what lies just beneath the binding. The fact that Spencer has it with him now makes him think that he might as well be wearing a t-shirt that reads, I’M STILL NOT OVER YOU.

Spencer raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Old habits die hard, I guess.” His eyes scour your face for a sign of anything that might clue him in to you feeling the same way. A flicker of something dances across your face, but it’s gone so quickly that he can’t be sure if he imagined it. He forces a nervous smile. “If I remember correctly, he was your favorite.” It’s a shitty attempt at a joke.

You exhale a shaky breath and to his absolute horror, your lower lip begins to wobble. He wishes he could reach up and pluck his words from where they hang heavy in the air.

“Not anymore,” you murmur, and fuck if that doesn’t absolutely wreck him.

Spencer shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. “Oh. Why not?”

He holds his breath, anxiously anticipating your next words. You seem to be battling with yourself, mouth opening and closing several times. Spencer is content to wait as long as it takes for you to answer, but the universe is much more impatient than he.

The door leading onto the porch swings open and out walks an honest to God Abercrombie and Fitch model. Or at least, a man who meets the qualifications and then some. Long, flowing blonde hair and a crisp white dress shirt makes Spencer’s unruly brown mop and dumpy sweater look pitiful in comparison. Spencer frowns.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been out here for like ten minutes,” the man chastises as he closes the distance between you and him. Spencer watches him wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you to him like someone might watch a car wreck happen; with equal parts horror and morbid curiosity. “You can’t hide out forever.”

All traces of rigidity leave your body and you melt into the man’s side. It happens in such a way that screams familiarity, as if the pet name hadn’t already driven that point home. The awful, gut-wrenching realization slams home and Spencer has to fight to keep his knees from buckling.

“Uh, sorry,” you mumble, before nodding your head in Spencer’s direction. “Damien, this is Spencer Reid.”

The man’s – Damien’s - eyes go almost comically wide as they settle on Spencer’s dejected frame, before schooling into a cool indifference. He offers him a polite smile that’s a little tight around the edges, but doesn’t outstretch his hand.

“Ah, Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Spencer swallows hard to keep himself from barking out a crazed laugh. He’s heard of me! That’s certainly something, considering the fact that no one thought it necessary to tell Spencer that you have a –

Spencer’s eyes dart down to your left hand. Thankfully, mercifully, your ring finger is bare.

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” The words burn as they roll off his tongue.

Damien nods at him before turning back to you. There’s an unmistakable fondness in the way he looks at you as he speaks. “Cassidy wants everyone back inside. They’re about to serve dinner.”

You smile up at him, not even casting a parting glance at Spencer before Damien leads you back inside. Spencer stands there long after the door closes behind the two of you.

The book feels heavy in his hands.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #fanfiction #icyhwm #my writing #spencer #reid

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jeanslongschlong · 3 years

Text

a-z fluff alphabet for eren jaeger

these are self indulgent because i was really craving some eren fluff tonight. enjoy!!

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Let’s face it. This boy is known for being overly passionate about everything, so he adores absolutely everything about you. Specifically, the fact that you don’t try to baby him and often give him the freedom he needs (but not the freedom, if you get what I mean LMAO). He really appreciates that you allow him to do things on his own and aren’t too overbearing. He already gets enough of that with Mikasa.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Probably your hair. This boy could sit around and play with your hair aimlessly all day; it literally brings him so much joy he can’t even begin to explain it. Loves to braid it, pet it, run his fingers through it, basically anything you can think of.

If you don’t have hair, then probably your hands. He loves to hold your hand in public (since we all know this one is probably possessive as hell) just to show that you’re his. Especially in front of Jean. When you’re alone, he likes to lay back on the bed and trace patterns on your palms, play with your fingers, and laugh at the size difference between your hands, claiming he thinks the size difference is adorable.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

I feel like Eren isn’t entirely huge on PDA, so I wouldn’t go as far as saying he likes to cuddle in public, but when it’s just the two of you (or a group of you and maybe a few friends), expect him to be trying to initiate cuddles all the time. This boy is so seriously touch starved, he yearns for your touch all the time. I mean, who would say no to him, though? I love him 🥺

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think Eren is the romantic type perse, BUT, I definitely think if he were to have an ideal date with you it would include a late night picnic with extremely deep conversations about how you imagine your future to be. Lots of cuddles. You’d definitely have a good time, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys got so carried away in your chatting that you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

This boy is the worst at expressing his emotions, I swear. He’s sad? Angry. He’s happy? Slightly less angry. He’s angry? You’d better start running. When it comes to getting him to talk to you about his emotions, he really doesn’t like to be pushed. He has issues acknowledging that he has issues in the first place, but once he does realize it, he usually takes a few days to process and think before choosing to talk to you about it (if he ever does). This boy’s feelings are an enigma, but he’s working on it. This can cause a rift in your communication, but it’s an easy fix if you’re willing to talk to him about it. The last thing he wants to do is let his inability to express emotions ruin the best thing he’s ever had.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Okay, canonically? I don’t think this boy has ever thought about it. I don’t think he ever thought he’d live that long. Especially S4 Eren, starting a family is the last thing on his mind. So, probably not, I’d barter.

However, in a modern AU? I definitely see Eren wanting children with you. I can’t see him wanting them until he’s in his late twenties/early thirties, but I 100% think he would want some. Only if you did, though. Kids are something he can live without, even though he would really like to have some if he were given the chance.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Like I mentioned previously, I don’t think Eren is a very romantic person. However, he never passes up the opportunity to buy you something. I think it’s his way of compensating for not being able to express his emotions very well with you. He’s got to show he cares about you somehow, right? Expect lots of chocolates from him randomly. I can also see him sneaking onto your laptop just to see what’s on your amazon wishlist so he can go and buy them for you later.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time! He loves holding your hand; I’d say it’s the only form of PDA that he’s really comfortable with. It keeps him grounded, especially during particularly stressful times in his life. For example, in the canon universe, he’d hold onto your hand a little extra before and after expeditions. In a modern AU, I’d say he’d hold your hand before a particularly rigorous exam, or after he’s had a really rough day at work. It just reminds him that everything will be okay because you’re there. He’s never really had anything to bring him back down to earth when he gets all caught up with his emotions, so he relies on it pretty hard in that sense.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

TBH? He’d probably get pissed LMAO. But not at you, anger is basically the only way this boy can express emotions. Deep down, he’d be really, really worried about you. He’d probably sit around and mope. He’d grumble in response to any questions you’d ask him. He’s just in emotional overdrive, poor baby can’t process anything bad happening to you, it makes him want to go apeshit.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

I feel like he jokes around with you quite a bit, but more so in the form of teasing. If you’re short, be prepared for the short jokes. He’s unrelenting.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Say it with me: P👏A👏S👏S👏I👏O👏N👏A👏T👏E👏L👏Y. He does not halfass his kisses. He gives the type of kiss that leaves you gasping for breath afterwards, the type that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. Kissing Eren takes you to another dimension. It’s fucking amazing.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

I’d say mostly through gift giving and physical touch. He’s not very good with expressing that he loves you through words since one, he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing, two, he’s too scared that he’ll embarrass himself, and three, there literally isn’t a way to put the way he loves you into words. The way he feels about you transcends all languages.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you two first met. He will never forget the very first moment he laid eyes on you. He considers it to be the best day of his life (though he keeps that to himself because he’s afraid you’ll tease him about it and he wants to keep up his manly facade).

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Unintentionally hurting you or losing you. Eren can’t imagine life without you, he wants to keep you around for as long as he can. He’s afraid one day he’ll go too far in an argument and finally push you away forever. He’s not prepared for that at all.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

Loves to hug you just so he can smell you LMAO. Sounds weird, but your scent genuinely just fills him with joy.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Sticking to the classics here: Eren really likes to call you baby and babe, specifically babe. I feel like he only calls you baby when he’s feeling especially affectionate OR he’s begging for something/trying to get out of an argument without any consequences. LMAO

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Alone and at home. Of course, he doesn’t mind going out to movies or out to dinner every once and a while, but he prefers to spend time with you in private, so he can love you without anything to hold him back and no unwelcome and prying eyes.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Heat Waves by Glass Animals. More specifically, the slowed and reverb version on YouTube. I couldn’t explain why even if I tried. I just get the vibes.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

The thing with Eren is, he doesn’t mind laying out his past to you plain and simple. He will tell you every grueling detail of his childhood (including things he hasn’t even told Armin). Presently, he doesn’t keep any secrets from you. The word ‘secret’ doesn’t apply to you. The only thing that I’d say he really keeps a ‘secret’ are his emotions, but I covered that already.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

I want to say that you got together relatively quickly, but I just can’t. If I’m being realistic, I’d say nine months to a year. Eren just wasn’t sure if he was ready to commit (or if he was ready to have something to lose) so he just kept you around as a ‘really good friend’ or you guys had some sort of friends with benefits deal going on.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He doesn’t know how to act. He doesn’t know what to say. He just sits and listens to what you have to say, provides the tissues, and hugs you when you look like you need it. He’s really very comforting once he’s relaxed enough in your relationship to show you his more sensitive side.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Eren 100% loves to show you off. Especially to his friends. ESPECIALLY to Jean. It brings him a special type of joy when he can rub having you as his girlfriend in Jean’s face.

“She’s all mine, horse face.”

Poor Jean. Probably wasn’t even looking in your direction to begin with. Eren’s just a possessive and competitive shit.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

He thinks you’re a badass and respects your willingness in the Survey Corps. He would 100% fight for you; he would lay his life down for you if he needed to (let’s hope not). He would worry about you, obviously, but ultimately he knows that you can handle yourself so he’s not too worried. Often times you’re the one who has to keep him from getting chomped, so he’s really grateful to you in that sense. You allow him to fight on his own for the most part but when it gets a little too dangerous you swoop in.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

At first? Tch. Homeboy is OBLIVIOUS to anything you’re feeling. But after you’ve been together one, maybe two years? He can read you like a book.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Probably in a nonchalant way if I’m being honest. Just brings it up so casually in conversation one day that you almost completely missed it.

“Hey, Eren, what do you need from the grocery store? I’ve already got chocolate milk on the list, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Um…more shampoo? Some more shaving cream and…your hand in marriage?”

“Shampoo…shaving cream…and my hand in marriage. Got it.” Eren snickers. You knit your eyebrows together in confusion as to what he’s laughing at and scan over the contents of what you just wrote down to make sure you didn’t write down the wrong thing. When you notice it, you let out the loudest gasp known to man. “Wait- my…oh my god, are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“YOU COULD HAVE DONE IT IN A MORE OBVIOUS WAY, YOU ASSHOLE! I FEEL SO DUMB RIGHT NOW.”

“More obvious? What could be more obvious than that?” You mentally facepalm.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

He loves to play with your hair, but have I mentioned how much he loves it when you play with his hair? You could get this man to fall asleep in 10 seconds flat just by gently scratching your fingernails against his scalp.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #shinkgeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger headcanons #eren jaeger fluff headcanons #eren jaeger fluff alphabet

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peterprkrsbtch · 3 years

Text

sapphire - part 1

Peter Parker x reader

A/N: This is some type of wish fulfillment writing for me because I like to imagine becoming a hot and badass superhero when I fall asleep and I thought other people may be entertained as well :) If you enjoy it, like or reblog to share!

REMINDER: in this story, the reader gains superpowers and I do describe the appearance of her body. i hope you know every body is a superhero body and weight does not impact your beauty at all-i just needed to show how drastic the changes were!

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, attempted kidnapping, guns/violence

The sun that came beaming through your window brightly as you opened the blinds in your room immediately brought a small smile to your face. Summer had always been your favorite season. As smart as you were, a three month break from Midtown has never sounded better. Junior year had not been easy for you.

Small goosebumps appear on your arms as you shiver when the memory of that night crosses your mind.

***

You’d been walking home after your first day of school, distracted as images of the day flicker through your mind. The first day was always exciting, new classes and people. Probably why you were too distracted to notice the man creeping up behind you until he wrapped his hands around your backpack and yanked it off of your back, making you let out a yelp of surprise.

Or, he’d tried to. Unfortunately, this dumb ass criminal didn’t know how backpack straps work and when he tugged, the straps caught around your arms and yanked you off your feet, slamming your body into your attacker with a groan.

Panic immediately clouded your mind. You’d never been mugged before. You try desperately to remember anything from the self defense class you’d taken in seventh grade. The attacker seemed surprised that your bag hadn’t slid off your body and this gave you the opportunity to scream. “Help!” You shrieked. “Somebody!” It was the middle of the day in New York and yet, the street you were walking was dead empty.

“Shut the fuck up.” The man growled in your ear and you suddenly became aware of his death grip on your arm. Before you could contemplate punching him in the face or kneeing his dick, a sharp poke on your arm made you whip your head, just in time to see a needle full of glowing blue liquid being injected into your arm by the man. He hadn’t wanted your backpack at all.

The shock you felt as you watched the unfamiliar substance enter your body was amplified at the burning sensation quickly spreading from the injection site to your whole upper arm. The man lets out a harsh laugh, and you finally turn to see his face. He did not look like a homeless man. Or a thief. The sight of his groomed beard and expensive jacket made you feel like you’d been plunged in ice. What the hell was happening?

“What did you do to me?” The sound of your voice is much stronger than you expect it to be, and it helps to ease a couple of the butterflies going mental inside your stomach. At least you didn’t sound terrified. He just lets out a low laugh and begins to drag you by your backpack towards a car parked on the opposite side of the road you hadn’t noticed until now.

“You’re coming with me.”

The burning had spread to your entire left arm and was now taking over your left shoulder. If you didn’t have adrenaline coursing through your veins due to your current situation, you would’ve been doubled over with pain. You struggle against the man’s hold on your backpack as he drags you closer to the large black SUV.

Hell no. I am not getting kidnapped today. You force yourself to calm enough to quickly think of a plan. Any plan. When the man reaches the car despite your struggling, a disgusting sneer on his face, he lets go of his grip on your arm to reach for the handle, and you take your chance to head-butt him as hard as you possibly can-letting your arms slide out of the backpack as you do.

“Ow! Get back here you little bitch!” But it’s too late. In the two seconds when the man doubles over to clutch at his head, you’d snatched your backpack from the ground where he’d let it fall and sprinted down the street. You try to tell yourself that the unbearable burning sensation now settling into your chest is from running, not from whatever the fuck he’d injected you with.

***

A loud beep, beep from the clock on your bedside table snaps you out of reminiscing on your near death experience and a large smile grows on your face. Finally it was 5 p.m, the time when your mom usually went over to her boyfriend’s apartment across town. Every night, like clockwork, since you were 13.

It used to bother you, but now the silence gives you the opportunity to do what you needed to do alone. You get up and move towards your closet as you let your mind slip into your memories again as you reminisce on the events after the attack.

***

You’d run home like hell and had never been so grateful to find that your mom had left early. Within ten minutes, the burning had spread and you were left to writhe around in pain on your bed for hours. There was no let up, no break. You knew you were going to die.

Whatever the man had injected in you was breaking apart every muscle, every atom in your body so slowly that you could feel it. Eventually, your pained screams became quieter as exhaustion began to take over. This is it. I’m really going to die. My mom is going to come home and find me like this-

Before you could finish your thought, a harsh gasp involuntarily left your mouth and you launch forward to sit up. Okay, maybe I’m not going to die. You thought as the pain suddenly ceases. You slowly bring your hands up to stare at them, scared that the pain will return. Just as you’re about to let out a breath of relief, it hits you again.

And it’s so much worse. The burning sensation shoots through your body, and every broken muscle and molecule felt as though it was being bound together again. The minutes bleed together as exhaustion and pain take over your body.

***

Looking back, you still have no idea what was in the injection. All you know is what happened because of it.

***

Beep, beep.

BEEP, BEEP.

The incessant beeping of your stupid alarm wakes you from quite possibly the weirdest dream you’ve ever had. You’ve never had pain in a dream feel so vivid before, and the memory alone draws your body inwards, hugging your arms in for comfort.

Your arms. Hold on.

They didn’t feel like this last night. You glance down at your skin, the shadow of your blanket making it hard to see. You rip the covers off and storm over to your full length mirror-and all you can do is let out a gasp. I’m going crazy.

With shaking hands, you grab your phone and unlock it, scrolling until you find a mirror selfie you had taken at the pool over summer, just two weeks ago. You glance at the photo, then back up at the mirror. Then at the photo, then the mirror. Photo, mirror, photo.

A shocked laugh rips through your lips as you stare at the photo of yourself. Smooth skin and curves. A couple extra pounds of baby fat you had yet to lose, a spot or three of acne on your forehead. You weren’t an extraordinarily insecure person, but you were a teenage girl and a couple of those things had bugged you but-

Your eyes flicker up to the mirror. You run your hands along your arms. You used to describe them as flabby, but you can feel and see the toned, tight skin. You move your eyes to your boobs. Were they bigger? They definitely looked bigger.

Any “baby fat” you carried had seemingly disappeared overnight. You slowly lift your shirt and let your jaw drop, running your hands over your small waist, not missing the muscle you can feel under your skin. Your skin was perfectly clear and your hair and lashes both seemed longer and healthier.

When you were younger and more naive, you’d hoped puberty would involve waking up one morning looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. But that was stupid. Things like that don’t happen, right?

Slowly, the events of yesterday began to register in your mind. The attack, the injection, the pain. A million questions flooded your mind. The most prominent being what the actual fuck??

“Y/n? You almost ready to leave for school?” Your mom’s voice rings out into your silent room as she knocks on your bedroom door.

“Yeah, Mom! Just a couple minutes.” You call out nervously, waiting until you hear her footsteps walk away from your door. You let out a curse as you race into the bathroom, the harsh lighting illuminating even more changes to your face.

Your lips were bigger, your eyes more open, and your cheekbones and jaw more defined. Fuck. If you weren’t so worried about anyone noticing your overnight transformation, you would’ve taken more time to think about the positives of this situation.

You were always shy and quiet at school, choosing a small group of people to hang around and mostly focusing on your classes. But every teenage girl dreams of being beautiful, and now you finally were. You pull your hair up to brush your teeth and wash your face faster than you ever have before, electing to ignore the fact that you should have a nasty bruise from your head-butt yesterday.

You choose to skip makeup completely, knowing it would draw more attention to your new face. You took one last look at your body in the mirror before pulling on the baggiest sweats you owned and a loose hoodie, hoping they would mask your new curves.

You had no idea how you were supposed to hide this all year.

***

You smiled as you remember how silly you’d acted the next day. You were overly paranoid, covering your face with your hoodie as much as you could and choosing to sit alone in the library rather than at your usual table. No one questioned you, not once.

You had felt a pang of loneliness at first, knowing that no one at your school even cared enough to notice the obvious change had hurt just a bit, but it made dealing with the powers easier.

***

You’d first noticed it on the walk to school. It was barely September and the summer sun was still coming down on the city. This paired with your heavy layers of clothing and the long walk to school would normally leave you slightly breathless. As you arrived at the school feeling more energized and alive than ever, you noticed you’d gotten there in a fourth of your normal time without even trying.

You next noticed it in gym, when the daily pushups the teachers forced you all to do every year were suddenly easy. Effortless. As soon as the final bell rang, you ran home within minutes without feeling winded at all and winced as you threw your door open, nearly ripping it off it’s hinges.

Something else was definitely going on. Your appearance was not the only thing that seemed to go through an upgrade. You said a quick hello to your mom before running up to your room.

For the first time since you woke up that morning, you relaxed once your door was closed and locked. Your shoulders release as you sink to your bed, dropping your head into your hands. You try to recall anything you’ve read about people being totally changed after some sort of injection.

Your heart sinks. Captain America jumps to mind. The Winter Soldier, Wanda Maximoff and her dead brother. They’d all been injected.

You bite your lip and glance at a book sitting on your bedside table. You straighten up and thrust your hands towards the book, trying to make it move. Unsurprisingly, nothing happens. You close your eyes and breath out a small breath of relief. Ok so I’m beautiful now and have great endurance, at least I’m not a superhero. You let yourself relax slightly, your eyes still closed. Now you feel dumb for throwing your hands around like some kind of knock off Scarlet Witch.

When you open your eyes, your blood runs cold. The book is floating in front of you, a blue glow surrounding it. Slowly, you raise your, now shaking, hands again towards the book until they flash with the same blue and it launches towards you, the force of it making you rock back as you catch it in your hands.

Well. Fuck.

***

After that, you were thankful that no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. You bite down a smile as you remember the first few months after, thinking about how much you’d changed since then.

***

You spent nearly every night for weeks studying every superhero fight video you could find on youtube and practicing the moves alone in your empty house, over and over.

It didn’t take much for you to perfect them as your new body seemed to be built for this kind of shit. Black Widow was your favorite to watch, and you made sure to spend extra time working through her signature moves, letting the flips, kicks, and punches become muscle memory.

You spent time practicing your real powers as well, though those seemed to come to you naturally. After that first delay with the book, it had almost felt like second nature to lift up the heaviest objects in your house with just a wave of the hand, but still, you practiced. Over and over and over. You quickly learned you could move people as well, namely yourself. Flying over New York in the middle of the night was something that would always leave you breathless.

Once winter settled over New York, you decided you were finally ready to try and use your abilities for good. You had near perfect control over your “magic” and you were pretty sure you’d spent more hours in the past month punching the air than sleeping.

You spent all day Sunday bent over the dusty sewing machine you dug out of a shelf in your kitchen closet. The trip to Joann’s reminded you of your mother teaching a younger you how to sew, though you two never bought yards of spandex to make a skin tight suit.

It had taken a couple minutes for you to remember how to use the machine, but you were extremely proud of the final product. You’d made a simple skin tight black suit with a zipper up the front and a mask to cover most of your face, but you figured no one could recognize you by just your mouth.

Once you finished the last hem on your face mask, you took the suit and the mask and hid them in your closet next to a pair of black combat boots. You put the dusty machine away and finally made your way into your bathroom, glancing nervously at the box on the counter.

Although you had exactly zero friends at Midtown, you had grown up with some of these kids and you couldn’t risk one of them recognizing your hair color if they saw you in your superhero suit and the box advertising temporary spray on hair color seemed to be the perfect solution.

You take the small can out of the box and spray blonde-ish highlights into your hair and brush it through until your long hair is shades lighter than your natural color and you’re happy with the results.

Your hands shook as you pulled on your suit, then your mask, and finally, the black boots. You move to your mirror and nervously give yourself a glance, only to be pleasantly surprised. You really do look like a superhero, even more so when you will your hands to glow blue with your powers.

***

That night, you learned that you had severely underestimated yourself. You thought memories of your own attack would flash before your eyes every time you knocked down a criminal, but it didn’t.

Every time you would wrap your thighs around someone’s neck to drag them to the ground you felt strong and every time the person you just saved would begin to thank you aggressively, you knew you made the right decision to help people.

You kept your guard, and your hood, up during the school days but your months of training and now your late night rescues, had caused a spike in your confidence. After a particularly hard 18 vs. 1 fight in which your zipper had gotten yanked down a bit, you just left it. It looked better like that anyway.

You wished you had someone to show the new you. You used to be so unsure of yourself, and now because of a seemingly random attack, you had the ability to help people. It definitely felt good to be doing something good.

Unfortunately, your endeavors started to become sensationalized. New York was obsessed with superheroes, you knew this. But you never thought people would start paying attention to you.

You should’ve known better. A girl with enhanced curves in a skin tight suit, flying around the city with glowing blue hands and fighting crime with her front zipper pulled down, and you thought you could remain invisible in the media too?

Luckily for you, the spotlight was cast upon another new superhero around the same time-a Spiderman. Once he entered the superhero scene just weeks after yourself, you noticed the articles you’d previously seen sexualizing you and your costume turned into articles about the two of you instead. If only those reporters knew you were 17.

You were thankful for him even though you’d never met him, and your two names “Spiderman and Sapphire” were often used in the same headlines to discuss you two newcomers.

At first you hated the nickname the media gave you simply because of the increased attention, but you learned to love it. It was nice to see people appreciating what you were doing, even though every camera that was ever pointed your way made you anxious to protect your identity.

Ever since your first winter night spent fighting crime, you’d quickly fallen into a pattern. School with your eyes glued to your desk the whole time, sweats and hoodies concealing your body, then homework until your mom leaves, then go out and help your city.

Your fighting has improved to the point that you almost prefer hand to hand combat rather than using your powers. On especially slow nights, you’ve let yourself drag out a fight with some bank robbers or kidnappers just to entertain yourself.

It was your escape. In your suit, with your face covered and your hair thick with the lightening spray, was the only time you felt like yourself. Really yourself.

But you had a plan to change that. As easy as it had been to lay low throughout the last year at school, you’d had enough. You wanted more. So you had a plan. A new body and face overnight is impossible, but over three months? Totally plausible.

You were excited for three months with nothing to do but go out as Sapphire, and you knew these few months were going to be the calm before the storm if you really decided to go back to Midtown as the new you.

God, enough with the reminiscing. You told yourself, but you do allow yourself to feel pride at how much you’d matured from your first day of school this year to your last as you tug on your familiar suit and mask.

***

You glance down at the buildings beneath you, eyes silently scanning every dark alley and corner for trouble. Your hands glow blue as you fly yourself gracefully through the sky. Suddenly, loud sirens and screams sound from beneath you and you look down to see 8 large men climbing into a bank as they smashed the windows.

You quickly fly yourself down and through the hole behind the men as they point guns towards the only two people in the bank, a janitor and a man you assume is the manager. “Give us the fucking money.” One of the men growls and the others laugh menacingly at their friend’s threat.

The manager notices you standing behind the men and his eyes widen, causing the men to start to turn towards you. You grab the gun out of one of their hands using your powers and smirk at the oh, shit look on their faces. Before you can make a move to knock the man nearest you off his feet, a web snaps through the broken window and snatches the gun from his hands before you can blink.

Spiderman comes swinging through the opening, landing gracefully. “What’s going on here, fellas?” He asks, and you can’t help but smirk at the sound of his voice. The two of you seemed to live similar lives, and yet this was your first time meeting him.

The white eyes of his mask flicker from the men, frozen with fear, towards you, and his eyes grow with recognition and maybe shock? Hard to tell with the mask. He opens his mouth to say something else, but one of the men still holding guns raises it and fires towards Spiderman without a second of hesitation.

You raise your hand quickly, stopping the bullet in mid-air and everyone around you stares at the bullet suspended in mid-air, your glowing blue hand outstretched, almost as if you were catching it. Spiderman’s eyes widen even more. “Holy shit.”

You smile to yourself and clench your hand into a fist, letting the bullet crumble to the ground in dust. “Nice try.” You say to the man. “But you’re getting on my nerves.” You turn towards the 8 men in front of you, 5 still holding guns. You move your hand to face the men, and with a sweeping motion, the 5 guns are yanked from their hands to suspend far above their heads, where they couldn’t reach.

You can’t help a small laugh as one of the men tries to jump up and grab it. You turn towards Spiderman who’s standing there with his mouth wide open. “Sorry if I stole your moment.” You say genuinely. You had no doubt that he could’ve taken care of this himself, but you had gotten here first.

“Are you kidding?” He nearly squeaked. “That was amazing, oh my god! I can’t believe we haven’t met until now.” Your cheeks blaze slightly under your mask from his praise, you’ve never had a superhero compliment you before. You adjust your focus back to the men quickly, who seem to be thinking of a way to run.

Your eyes meet Spidey’s again. “You wanna web ‘em up?” He nods excitedly, his eyes finally breaking from yours as he jumps into action. As impressed as he was by you, you couldn’t help but watch in awe as he swings around the room and with a thwick, he webs all of the men together in a cocoon, hanging upside down from the chandelier of the bank ceiling.

He swings himself one last time to land next to you again. “Cool.” You say before you can even realize your mouth is open. “I mean, you’re not too bad yourself.” He bows his head a bit, seeming shy even though it was a half-compliment to cover up your embarrassment.

“Sorry to bust in on your fight,” He says, glancing around the room towards the two terrified employees staring at the two of you in shock. “Not a lot happening tonight, and I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ugh, I know.” You agree. “Not to complain about less crime, but our jobs have been a little bit too easy this past week.” His mask crinkles as he smiles.

“We could...work together sometime if you wanted too, of course.” He says nervously, nearly stuttering on his words. “It’s just, you’re really good and you seem really cool and I-”

You interrupt his word vomit. “Of course I want to! I’ve been wondering when we would meet.” His eyes move from staring at the eye holes in your mask down to your lips when you smile. “How’s tomorrow?”

“How’s right now?” You don’t think your smile can get wider. “One sec.” He holds up a finger before quickly running over to the two bank workers, who thank you both over and over and then they both hugged him. You were wrong, your smile grows and remains goofy and big as he runs back over to you. “Let’s go.”

That night you found out that your view of the city is 100 times better when you can also see a red and blue suit swinging from building to building out of the corner of your eye.

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