#he is just Some Guy. and he’s had his whole life to become acclimated to that fact | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsclydebitches · 11 months

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Building off your argument that Ted isn't going to go back to Kansas, he was constantly correcting his mother this episode with regards to British terms. Where before he was the outsider who didn't understand Britishisms, now he is the native who uses the terms instinctively to the point where he gets annoyed when they're used wrong. Sounds like he's acclimatized to England.

Yes!!! I was thinking that a couple weeks back too when Ted first uses "football" instinctively and then comments on how natural it's become. He's reached a point where he's both using that terminology as a matter of course ("Some of us have a football team to coach!") as well as teaching others (here's how the dials on the oven work). (Sidenote: I'm not sure what to do with Dottie's tea comment yet. Not even sure atm whether I read it as sincere or sarcastic, but regardless, I think it's a potentially useful detail next to Ted willingly drinking tea in "Sunflowers." That was another version of acclimation on his part.) Now, combine this verbal/dietary acclimation with our opening where every previously negative interaction Ted had with the community has been flipped to show that they now adore him -- seen most strikingly through the "wanker" guy and, throughout this season, the pub trio supporting him at training -- and if they do send Ted back to Kansas it's really going to read as that Mary Poppins situation of, "He arrives to brighten everyone else's lives and then leaves. Why do you care what he needs? He's just a narrative tool."

To further add to this I can't help but think about the long-term structure of Ted's life now that we know Beard's backstory. We're told that, like his time here in Richmond, Ted helped Beard, forgave him, gave him another chance, and ultimately gave him a life. If we look at Beard's situation as a microcosm of the whole show, it seems significant that Ted does not leave Beard behind. That was not a situation -- a situation we're worried about getting now -- where Ted played the part of emotional coach and then sent Beard on his way, far from him as he's no longer needed. Instead, we get the opposite. Beard becomes his best friend, a staple of his life, and continues to help Ted in turn. By waiting until the penultimate episode to reveal the roots of Beard's loyalty, the show has ensured that the focus is on their equal standing and how Beard has likewise benefited Ted over the years: helping him see that wanting to win isn't a bad thing, trying to provide support through his anxiety, recognizing Ted's tells and informing their new community of what to look for (Nate, during the divorce arc: "Is he okay?" Beard: "No!") Beard could have been a minor, flatter character who popped out of the woodwork just to say, "Ted Lasso changed my life for the better, extraordinarily so, and he is The Best Man anyone could ever meet" (which, frankly, would have made Ted a flatter character too) and then gone on his way, having succeeded in the narrative function of reminding the viewer that this is Ted's sole role in the story: coaching others to be their best selves while pushing his own needs aside.

Instead, Beard becomes the cornerstone of Ted's support system. Ted doesn't leave him behind, he permanently integrates him into his life.

What's a microcosm of this microcosm? Ted Lasso does the same thing with Trent. Does he go off into the writing world once Ted helps him realize what he truly wants in life, his story concluded, never to be seen again? To quote Beard, "No!" Trent comes back and, significantly, Ted doesn't pull any metaphorical Mary Poppins arguments along the lines of, "I'm done all I can for you. It's time for you to move on." He eagerly invites Trent into their Richmond circle when no one else will (I'm currently working on a meta of Trent's first scene of Season 3 because OH BOY IS THERE A LOT) and Trent stays, not simply writing his book but becoming a member of the family. Surely there's a pattern here: The people Ted helps don't leave him, but rather become core additions to his life that enrich his own outlook and understanding of himself.

I'm not saying I'm going to toss Ted Lasso in the bin if we get the Kansas ending, but I AM saying you all will have to suffer through a dissertation length meta on my blog about why that was a bad choice lol

#Ted Lasso #Coach Beard #Trent Crimm #mymetas

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fastcardotmp3 · 2 years

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Thinking about Eddie and how it probably takes him some time to figure out what he wants from life after having his whole worldview sent toppling and very nearly dying in an alternate dimension.

Like after he gets his GED it's odd jobs and moving town to town looking for a place that isn't put off when they do a background check and find out what he'd been accused of (no matter that he was cleared of all charges) and it's changing his last name and just surviving for a while rather than chasing down any sort of passion projects.

Maybe he tries the music thing out a few years in, figuring people probably care less about who's playing a gig so long as they know their way around a guitar, but he's still young and stupid and traumatized and it becomes very clear to everyone putting in the effort to stay in touch with him that he's about to be taken majorly advantage of by the industry so that's kind of a bust. He gets out as fast as he can, can't face the reality of his name ending up in the press anymore than it already has for Wayne's sake as much as his own.

And it's hard. It's messy and it's survival and it's just a lot for a guy who never really planned to still be alive this many years after that guitar solo in the Upside Down but he has to stop running around the country at some point and hey, Chicago's as good a place as any right?

Robin's working on her Master's out there and Nancy's at the Herald kind of kicking all kinds of journalistic ass. Steve just finished up his degree after floundering a bit like Eddie for a few years there when all the head trauma caught up to him and chronic tinnitus finally started turning into hearing loss and he's working at a school for HOH and Deaf kids now, genuinely actually thriving.

And Eddie feels a little bit like he's still the third-try senior at Hawkins High because what has he done? Lots of false starts and changed minds and spontaneous moves cross-country because he got too restless being in one place for too long, what has he really done?

He moves to Chicago, though, gets a job at a bookstore which is really far from the worst gig he's had in the past five or six years and it also just so happens to only be a handful of blocks away from the Art Institute where he happens to know one of the top undergrads.

The first time Will Byers comes in it might as well be because Steve is dragging him by the ear, because Eddie's only lived here three weeks but Steve has spent every day of that time making sure Eddie is getting settled and acclimated and has people. Almost like he's worried about Eddie leaving again.

Almost like he wants Eddie to stay.

And he drags Will Byers into the bookstore, eggs them into catching up outside of the Monster Hunter Reunions Joyce tries to make happen around major holidays. And then he does it again. And again.

It's Steve and Will bringing him lunch or bringing him coffee when it starts getting cold in the windy city and Eddie is loathe to admit it, but it's nice. It's not some big revelation, it's not Eddie's chance to change the world or anything, but he's got people around who keep making him aware that they're around and he's more settled than he's maybe ever been.

And then one day it's--

"Hey, Byers, you tell Ed about that thing you've been working on?"

If Eddie's hands weren't busy designing a killer fantasy display (if he does say so himself) he would be noticing the sly smugness in Steve's shoulders. He would know this was a set-up. He would just know.

The thing Will is working on is a graphic novel.

The thing Will is working on is a fucking metal ass premise of a graphic novel, taking no shortage of inspiration from the kid's quite frankly too insane for fiction experiences while still somehow putting so much of his own voice into it and Eddie is obsessed, Eddie is enthralled, Eddie is--

"Would you mind giving me feedback sometime? It's just-- I've got all these ideas, but I never know how to streamline them. You were always so good at that as a DM-- making everything make sense, you know?"

On that day, Eddie is mostly just honored that Will sees him for more than a guy without any formal creative writing education and trusts him enough to look at his work.

A matter of weeks later, Eddie is somehow not just giving feedback, he's basically a co-author. They use the big empty wall above Eddie's couch in his tiny studio apartment for storyboards and beat notes and it's on accident, the way Eddie finds this thing he loves.

Except for the fact that it's only an accident for him.

"You're such a fucking meddler, you know that?" he says to Steve over beers at Steve's apartment one Friday afternoon after gushing over Will's new art drafts for the book for approximately 45 minutes straight.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Steve smirks, not even trying to hide it.

"Oh, come on. Will told me he came to you asking if you thought I'd be interested in helping out and you came up with this elaborate slow-burn plan. The gig is up, Harrington, I'm in your head."

Steve just telegraphs his movement as he reaches up and shuts off his hearing aid, "Sorry, I can't hear you, man. Maybe if you wrote it in a book for me, drew some pictures--"

Who would really blame Eddie for kissing him on the mouth?

Someone needs to shut that guy up every once in a while.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #eddie munson #eddie & will #hoh steve harrington #stranger things fic #dot post #graphic novelist duo eddie and will is something that could be so good actually

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i-like-words · 9 months

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Checking In (MTaP)

Dusting off this ancient account to post a bit of the My Time At Portia Arlo/Builder!self ficlets that have been absolutely dumping out of me lately. seriously it's just been like. non stop writing for two weeks straight, this video game man has done unspeakable things to my brain and I love it

some lore and context: Adri was discovered frozen within a massive ruin, thawed out, reawoken after a stupid amount of years and whoops - turns out they have Trauma™ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ luckily our favorite good guy redheaded captain takes it upon himself to keep them out of trouble :)

this particular bit takes place like a week after Adri is introduced as the new Builder - they go MIA, leading Arlo and Merlin to swing by the old workshop

(As an aside, my Builder!self is non-binary. By this point no one within the canon knows this, so characters will refer to them with she/her while the narrative uses they/them, just to assuage any confusion or cw people beforehand of misgendering - it's intentional but temporary)

ANYWAY

cw for swearing and aforementioned misgendering

Arlo stepped through the gate and looked around. The yard had become quite overgrown and the workbench was strewn with stray leaves. It looked as though none of the equipment there had even been touched. There was no sign of Adri. Merlin peered over the scene and began jotting down notes.

Approaching the door to the little shack, Arlo noticed the lights were off.

"Do you suppose Adri is out for the day?" he asked.

"Mm, unlikely," Merlin replied, not looking up from her notebook. "Considering no one has really seen nor heard from her since the fireside chat. Not even the farm girl or her grandmother across the way."

Slowly, Arlo reached out and rapped on the wooden door with his knuckles. "Hello?" he called out.

Silence.

He knocked again.

"Anyone home? It's Arlo, from the Civil Corp. I'm here with Director Merlin from the Research Center. I'm sure you remember us from... before."

More silence.

"Uhh, listen. Mayor Gale asked us to check in on you, since no one has really, er, seen or heard from you in a handful of days. You... um, don't have to open the door, but give us a sign that you're alive...?"

"Though opening the door would be the preferable option," Merlin interjected.

Still no answer. Arlo chewed his lip. He wondered if maybe Adri was simply sleeping... understandable that someone who'd been reawakened after being frozen for a few hundred years would probably want to nap off that whole ordeal. But, still, as the one put in charge--self-appointed, yes, but in charge--of making sure Adri was safely acclimating to life in Portia, Arlo hoped that his first check-in with the new Builder wouldn't end with him breaking down the door.

Before he could contemplate that scenario further, said door suddenly parted, ever so slightly, from the door frame; Adri's pale face was barely visible through the open crack. Dark eyes glowered at Arlo, then at Merlin.

"There. I'm alive. Now go away," they said flatly, and with that, the door was shut once more.

Arlo stood there awkwardly, startled, but relieved he wouldn't, in fact, have to resort to property damage. At least not today. "Oh. Ah, that's... good. Um. I... we were hoping to maybe speak with you, see if there was perhaps anything you might need...?"

"What I need is for you to leave me alone," came the muffled, yet terse reply from behind the closed door. Merlin scribbled into her notebook.

"Hmm. Specimen... displaying... antisocial tendencies..."

"You're not helping," Arlo sighed to Merlin, before addressing the door again. "Uh, can we at least ask you a few questions?"

Silence.

"I promise once we're done we'll both leave you be. You have my word."

Silence.

"Do these so-called 'wellness visits' of yours always go this poorly?" Merlin asked, shouldering Arlo aside. She then knocked on the door. And hard. "Ms. Adri, while I understand you're going through a rather difficult period of adjustment, this an important matter, and neither myself nor Mr. Arnold will be vacating the premises until we can speak with you face-to-face."

Silence.

"You were saying?" asked Arlo pointedly, moving himself back in front of the door.

Merlin folded her arms indignantly. "Hmph..."

"Um... sorry about that, Adri," Arlo continued. "Just ignore what she said. Anyway, we're glad to see that you're, in fact, not dead, and it's, uh... pretty clear that you're not exactly in the mood to be social right now, which is totally fine, so we'll... just come back later."

He was about to turn to leave, when the door reopened and swung out slowly with a long creak. Adri stood there in the turnstile, squinting against the sunlight. Their clothes were disheveled, their shoulder-length hair was a tangled mess, and they had dark bags under their eyes. They looked like they hadn't gotten any sleep in days.

The Builder looked between the researcher and the Captain with intense disdain, then turned away and trudged into the dark, unlit void of the house. Merlin followed, notebook in hand. Tentatively, Arlo stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him.

There wasn't much to the little ramshackle house--four walls, a roof, and a modest wooden bed topped with moth-eaten sheets sat in the corner, nestled beneath a cracked window. The floor groaned under Arlo's boots, and he noticed some floorboards were missing. What little belongings Adri had had been unceremoniously dumped around; even the Builder's clothes that were given to them as a welcoming gift were laying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed.

Adri slumped onto the edge of the mattress, crossing their arms over their chest, shoulders hunched as if they were trying to fold into themselves.

"Make this quick," they muttered. Their gaze fell into middle distance, and their expression was blank, unfeeling.

Merlin looked up from her notes. "Yes, well," she began, leafing through some pages. "I'll be asking you a series of questions, you answer as honestly and as thoroughly as you can. Don't spare any details, even if you think they aren't important."

"Okay."

"All right... How are you feeling?"

"Terrible." The answer came out before the question had bothered to finish being asked.

Merlin blinked in mild surprise. "Erm, can you... perhaps be a little more specific? Try to refrain from single-word answers."

At this, Adri's head--and eyes--lolled back, and they heaved an irritated sigh. "Oh, my god, fine--I'm 'fucking terrible'. Is that better?"

Merlin did not look amused. She clicked her tongue. "Right. Moving on, then... Have you been experiencing any unusual physical or mental phenomena? Any short-term memory loss, disassociation, or particularly strange dreams or visions?"

"Oh, yeah... I've definitely been having strange visions lately."

Merlin perked up at this. "Have you? Can you describe these visions?"

"Let's see: some blue-haired bozo in dumb glasses shows up and asks me a bunch of stupid ass questions," Adri replied in a flat monotone, their expression unchanging. "I'm having one right now, in fact."

It took a great deal of effort from Arlo to stifle a chuckle. He was always so used to Merlin being the dry and sarcastic one; it was kind of a nice change of pace watching her get a taste of her own medicine. He could see the researcher's jaw jut forward angrily as she wrote something into her notebook before snapping it shut.

"Ms. Adri," she said, the patience dropping from her voice. She removed her goggles and eyed her interviewee as a parent does when lecturing an unruly child. "I am trying to help you. The very least you could do is take this seriously."

"'Help'...?"

In an instant, Adri's cold, indifferent expression changed. Their eyebrows shot up, disappearing into a thick curtain of dark hair. Merlin and Arlo both were taken aback as they suddenly began laughing--a short, bitter bark of a laugh.

"You're trying to 'help' me?" they sneered, rising from the bed and slowly walking forward. Their fists were clenched so hard they were trembling. "Just like you fucking 'helped' me by dragging my half-dead body back into consciousness, in a completely foreign world, separating me from everything I've ever known and loved by HUNDREDS OF YEARS!? THAT kind of 'help'...?!"

Adri was stopped short by a long arm extending in front of them, shielding Merlin, and they glared daggers up at its owner.

"That's enough," Arlo said, his thick brows furrowed. "I don't want to use force on you, but I will if I have to." Beyond his outstretched arm, Merlin was bracing herself behind her notebook and was staring at Adri with fear and anger in her eyes. Adri scowled.

"Tch. Unbelievable... Treated like a damned experiment and I'm expected to be grateful," they mumbled, looking away. Arlo caught a glimpse of a tear sliding down their face, glinting in the dim light of the window. They crawled back onto the bed and curled up into a ball, facing away from their visitors. "Just leave me alone already."

Arlo sighed, running a hand through his tousled red hair. He looked to Merlin. "We should probably go," he said, quietly. Merlin opened her mouth to interject, but, to Arlo's great relief, decided against it.

"...Very well."

They both turned to leave and Arlo opened the door to allow Merlin through. She strode outside, making a beeline for the front gate without another word, no doubt mentally cursing to herself for having to go back to the Research Center strapped for new data. Once she was far enough away, Arlo looked over his shoulder at the small, vulnerable figure laying there, alone, in the dark. Guilt tugged at the inside of his chest.

Adri heard the front door close with a soft click. A brief pause, and then:

"I know she isn't the best at dealing with people, but you mustn't blame Merlin," Arlo said quietly, his gaze fixed on the wood grain of the door. "It wasn't her idea to bring you back. It was mine."

Silence.

"I was the one who found you in the ice," he explained. "And I was the one who insisted that we help you. If you resent me for that, then that's okay. I accept that. You're well within your right to be angry, and... if you're going to be angry at anyone, you can be angry at me."

More silence. Arlo placed his hand on the door's handle. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize for the trouble and make his leave, he was cut off by the nearly inaudible--but unmistakable--sound of sniffling.

"Why did you have to bring me back...?" Adri whimpered, their voice thick and cracking. "Why didn't you just leave me there...?"

Arlo froze. The statement hung heavily like a yoke on his shoulders, pinning him to the spot. He turned and looked over at Adri helplessly as their body shuddered with silent sobs, unsure of what to do. He wanted so badly to comfort them, but he didn't know if he could... or if he even should. Shit. He knew today's visit probably wouldn't go smoothly, but... he had not been prepared for this.

"I... I felt like I had to," he said, crestfallen. Hesitantly, he walked over and sat at the foot of the bed, allowing as much space between himself and Adri as he could manage. "But... I am sorry. Hate me all you want, but please know that I only ever wanted to give you a chance."

"I never asked for your help," Adri mumbled into their pillow. "I never asked for any of this."

"I know." Arlo rubbed at the back of his neck as his gaze fell to the dusty wooden floor.

Another sniffle. "But... I don't hate you."

Arlo looked up again.

"You don't...?" he asked gently, mild surprise in his voice.

"No," Adri responded, heaving a shaky sigh. "I don't even hate that blue-haired bozo, or really, anybody here. I understand why you went out of your way to help me, but I was probably better off being frozen..."

"What makes you say that?"

"Under any other circumstances I'd be happy to have a second chance," Adri said, wiping tears away from their eyes. "I can't even say that my old life was super fucking great anyway, but... it was mine. Knowing that everything that made my life what it was is just... gone, it--" They trailed off, their voice wavering before letting out another sob.

Arlo said nothing, and he sat there, solemnly, as Adri grieved. After a few minutes, they went quiet again.

"Sorry..." they said, sniffling.

"What for...?"

"For making everyone worry, I guess..." Adri rolled over and sat upright. Their eyes were puffy and red, and their cheeks and nose were shiny with tears and mucus. "After Gale introduced me during the meeting thing, everyone was just so... nice. It was a lot. I didn't know how to deal with that, so I've just been holing up in here all week and feeling sorry for myself... I'm sure they all must think I'm an asshole."

"You're not an arsehole; you're going through a lot," said Arlo. "More than anyone in town could possibly know or even imagine. Yes, Gale is a bit of a worrywort, that's just how he is, but I doubt he's expecting you to seamlessly integrate into society overnight."

"Maybe... but he sure seems to believe that I can just pick up a hammer and magically become a Builder..."

Ah, yes. That. Gale had suggested, in the interest of keeping their origins a secret, that Adri be introduced to the townsfolk as a new Builder to avoid any unnecessary panic or conflict. If word of the truth got out, it could spell all sorts of trouble, not just for Adri, but for Portia, perhaps even for all of the Free Cities.

"I understand that it's probably a lot to ask of you, especially when you're already dealing with so much," Arlo said. "But, unfortunately, it's a necessary evil, to keep you safe. At least for now."

Adri sighed, running a hand through their long curls. "I know, I know... I'm just having a hard time understanding why you're going through the trouble of doing all of... this in the first place." They gestured vaguely around at the house. "What do you get out of protecting me?"

Arlo blinked, looking visibly confused. "What... do you mean...?"

Adri gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously...? C'mon, man. There are obviously people out there who'd stand to benefit a great deal by me being here, whether, like, academically or monetarily or whatever. ...So what's stopping you from just handing me over to some science lab? Or the government? Why even concern yourselves at all with what happens to me? What am I to you?"

They folded their arms over their knees and looked sullenly out the cracked pane of the window. The cynicism in their voice had left Arlo stunned. He stared, his expression wavering between shock and disbelief before it finally settled on pity.

"You're someone who deserves to live," he said, his voice saddened. "Even if you... believe otherwise."

Adri sighed again, heavily, their gaze still fixed out the window. Silhouetted by the light outside, their face appeared even more tired and weary than before.

"I'm just some random idiot you found in the ice," they mumbled into their knees, hugging them tighter. "You can tell Gale I'll play along with the Builder shit eventually. Right now, I... just want to be left alone."

Arlo nodded; he knew a hint when he heard one. "Okay," he said, patiently, standing up from the bed, and he turned to leave. Boots thudded across the creaky floor, stopping just before Arlo reached the doorway. He looked over his shoulder.

"Would you... be all right with me coming back tomorrow? To check in on you?" he asked cautiously. "If you'd rather I not, then I understand."

Adri quietly considered this for a moment.

"Yeah... okay."

The Captain gave a confirmatory nod. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said, gripping the door's handle. After a beat, he added, "and, uh, I'll make sure not to let the blue-haired bozo tag along this time."

At this, the faintest of smirks flashed across Adri's face as they let out an amused chuff, the closest thing to a genuine laugh Arlo had yet heard from them--and he was more than happy with that. He smiled, said goodbye, and left.

He went to sleep that night feeling... strangely optimistic.

#my time at portia #mtap #mtap arlo #mtap merlin #arlo x builder #nb!Builder #builder!self #arlo x adri #arlo x nb!Builder #arlo x builder!self #self ship #some angst #fluff on the bottom #selfshipping #fictional other #italics abuse #ellipses abuse #cw swearing #cw misgendering

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ask-hannah-blog · 5 months

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At first I thought I just had some bad take-out but I've been having horrible gas all weekend. What the heck is going on! I can't stop burping and farting! I feel so bloated...

Hmmm we got a little gas ball on our hands.

When you say bad take out, I’m guessing you were at some greasy fast food restaurant you’ve never seen before?

Yeah those things are a breeding ground for tfs. From rednecks, to pigs. From the sound of it you’re going through a slob tf, my condolences.

The gas is just the first step hehe…

Besides those yummy burps, and sexy little (or massive) toots, you’re going to go through some more really fun changes! You’re probably going to get a whole lot hungrier, more fuel for more farts, but most importantly fat! Slobs get fat fat fat, so plan on getting some stretch pants in the near future.

Don’t worry about the wardrobe change you’re going to lose all interest in fashion after a bit. Tank tops and sweat pants will do for you. I wouldn’t even worry about a bra, you probably won’t. You’re going to get reeeeeeal lazy too, so do all your work finding a lawyer and slob doctor now now now, it’s going to get more impossible for you to care by the hour. And rent is due one way or another.

Also hire a maid service or you’re going to be drowning in your own trash. They’re are companies that have specialized maids who are given a slob fetish so make sure you hire from one of them.

And be prepared to stink! It’s not just going to be farts and chili dog burps. Even as you’re reading this you’re probably noticing your swampy pits, your pussy becoming sour and ripe, you won’t care but make sure you warn friends and family. It can be pretty shocking.

And the best part is the hair. Hairy legs, a downright forest of rubes, and if you’re lucky a happy trail that leads right to your deep sweaty belly button! 😋

But most of all it’s going to be the pits. Hairy like a carpet, sweaty, smelly. Oh they’ve got it all, they’re going to become your new sex. Maybe not as powerful as your hairy pussy or overactive asshole, but you won’t say no to squeezing a dick in there and letting your beaux tangle your forest up with his jizz.

You’re going to notice yourself scratching your armpits a lot. What you probably won’t notice is you sniffing your fingers after, or sucking on them, or the way you rub your neck and face with your dripping wet hand after.

It’s your signature smell of course you want it to be your new perfume. And of course you’re going to want to rub up against everything like a Randy cat, spreading your scent, marking your territory.

Obviously your love life is going to suffer, you’ll be horny as hell stuck on a cloud of your own funk, but you’ll be stuck satisfying your own needs because dating is so much work, as if you could find a guy to date your rank ass anyway.

So your only hope is to have a lover now, and get him hooked on your stink. You gotta start now, while it’s not too toxic.

Start rubbing your sweat on his things so he gets acclimated to it. “Accidently” fart during sex so you can train him to like the smell. Give him a blow job while laying on your stomach so your feet are nice and close to his face. It would be worth it to try some kinky play where you tie him up and stuff dirty socks or panties in his mouth. He’ll be your slavish pig before you know it!

Ms. Hannah!

#transformation #mind control #ask blog #hypnosis #feet #slob kink #fat slob #slob

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hesthermay · 3 years

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𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐇𝐂’𝐒

ʚϊɞ headcannons, word count? again i do not know

ʚϊɞ gn!reader, fluff, domestic!bucky, mechanic!bucky, extremely self indulgent, again i am not sober LOL

— first and foremost, i think there are two versions of bucky

— the one where he stays a city boy his whole life, brooklyn has his heart and always will. which is fine!! i love this bucky to the moon and back

— and the one where he leaves all the hustle and bustle behind to live a quiet life in literally the middle of nowhere. this is my favorite version of bucky to think about, bc my head is my head and i can do what i want

— i picture an old farm house on a plot of land surrounded by woods, nearest neighbor is at least a mile and a half down the road (an old woman who has ‘mama’ in front of her name. she lives on her own and invites the both of you over every sunday night)

— y’all’s driveway is gravel, and the road you turn off of is a dirt road. your mailbox is old and has your last name on it, with a very tiny ‘BARNES’ scribbled under it

— you guys have dogs, two specifically

— and a cat

— bucky is the best pet dad ever. he works at the mechanic shop in town and alpine, your always dirty white cat who’s stuck on him like glue, is his favorite coworker

— alpine rides in the passenger seat or on the dash of the old truck you gave bucky when y’all met. it belonged to your brother and had been in the shed in the backyard for a while, but he’d had that spark that made you want to bring back that part of your life

— the dogs always greet the both of you when you get home from work. they sit by the mailbox with tongues sticking out and tails wagging. they chase the trucks to the end of the driveway and expect their lovins right then and there

— bonfires in the backyard all the time. it’s something the two of you cherish, nights where you pile into one lawn chair with a blanket and talk the night away. it’s also something you share with your friends, music playing loud and beers and such in hand

— it took bucky a while to get acclimated to your friend group, but after a while he found his footing. his personality really comes out one summer, the first summer spent as your boyfriend, and everyone falls for him even more than they already had. they’d loved him from the beginning, but once he let his laugh get loud and true, rolled his sleeves up and took the glove off, they knew he could be their friend

— your group frequents your place; whether that be after work, on lunch break, when they need to be patched up a bit—your home is the Mom and Dad home

— you don’t mind it, it just means the house you worked hard for is creating a space for all the love you’d hoped for. bucky doesn’t mine it either, because it makes him feel so much like his regular self to stand by your side as you make a large dinner with the sounds of the screen door opening and closing ever so often in the background

— bucky talks to sam a lot. they may bicker, but a phone call is still a phone call

— sam also loves you. to death

— bucky snores in his sleep. some nights he’s able to sleep in the bed, other nights it’s the bedroom floor. he falls asleep on the couch a lot, or in the recliner (like an old man lololol) you don’t complain tho. wherever he gets his sleep, as least he’s getting it

— living with bucky is so fun. seeing him become himself is so great. watching him begin to love life again is the best thing ever

— you love bucky and he loves you. it’s evident in the little things that domestic life brings—washing the dishes together and his hand touches yours as the plate is passed along, one person getting home from work before the other and starting dinner for the night, dropping off lunch for him at the shop when you’re on your break, him following the dogs as they run out the door hollering “hey mom!” as your truck pulls into the driveway

— this is a constant daydream i live in goodbye

ʚϊɞ reblogs are always appreciated luvs ! ʚϊɞ

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.

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andreafmn · 3 years

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I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,325

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.

A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next ->

Chapter 1

I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it. She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.

I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.

"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.

"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.

That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.

I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.

"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?

"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.

"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.

"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.

"And why the hell should that matter?"

"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."

"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."

"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.

"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"

"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."

"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."

"So, you admit that you hit me?"

"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.

"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"

"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.

"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."

"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."

"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."

"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?

"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.

We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.

"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."

Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.

"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.

"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?

"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.

"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.

"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.

"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."

"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.

"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.

Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.

"Um, chemistry."

"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.

Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.

"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.

"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.

"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"

"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."

"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."

"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."

"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."

"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."

After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac. I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.

As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.

But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.

At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.

"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.

"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.

"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.

"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."

"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.

The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.

"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.

"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."

Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.

"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.

My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.

I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"

He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.

"Trespassing again?"

"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.

"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."

"Maybe." He grinned.

Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."

"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."

"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.

"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.

"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."

"No worries, maybe another time."

"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.

"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" I screamed back.

"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."

I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.

After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."

"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.

"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.

"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.

"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."

"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm. Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.

The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.

"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.

"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.

"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.

"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.

"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.

Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?

Next ->

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whoacanada · 4 years

Text

Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

“Hey. Hi.”

Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”

The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.

“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”

“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.

“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”

“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”

“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”

Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”

“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”

“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”

“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”

“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”

Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.

______

True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.

That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.

(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)

Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.

________

After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.

The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.

“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”

Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.

“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.

“You know, I must have been mistaken.”

“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.

“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”

Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.

About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.

________

“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”

Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.

“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”

“No shit? Beer-league?”

“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”

“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”

“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”

“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”

“What could you do?”

“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.

“So.”

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”

Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight.

“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle’s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”

“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”

“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”

“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”

“Papa.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

#bar au #jack zimmermann #NHL!Bitty #zimbits #Zimmermann #retired Jack #zimbits fic #look I wrote a thing #it's only been forever #my fic #my stuff #omgcp #check please

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

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Hi i wanted to request snape x reader where they meet again after not seeing each other since their school days (they were bffs) and severus gets all cute and flustered bc he still has a crush?

STOPPPPP THAT’S SO EFFIN CUTE!

Reconnections

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,005

“I had no idea you were coming. How long have you been here?”

He thought about you more than he’d like to admit. Severus hadn’t really had any other friends over the course of his life, so it was only natural that his mind often drifted towards the one person who was consistently there for him. He was devastated when he lost contact with you after graduation. He had known that the two of you would go your separate ways, leading different lives with different goals in mind.

At first, the two of you stayed in touch through writing letters. You absolutely adored receiving letters from him, hearing about how his first year teaching at Hogwarts was going was the best part of your day. Severus began teaching at Hogwarts very shortly after graduation, and hearing about his adventures were thrilling...and sometimes a little boring.

He felt relief every time he received a letter from you. He was always happy to see how you were doing, and what was going on in your life. He would read your letters two or three times, picking apart every sentence and word. He’d try to pick up your tone in every paragraph. He’d look for implications of a boyfriend, fiancé, or husband. A hint or a crumb of detail leading to the idea that you were in a relationship.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss your school days together. He missed pulling all nighters with you to study for a big Potions exam. He wished he could have one more Charms class where the two of you were trying so hard not to laugh that you felt like you were going to pass out. He longed for the occasional nights where you would sneak to the Slytherin tower and the two of you would stay up late telling stories and enjoying each other’s company.

He missed you.

He had always been attracted to you. His schoolboy crush as a child didn’t really go away into his teenage years. He still found himself yearning for you, but he never made an attempt to seek you out. He was too shy, too reserved and insecure to ever go after the most beautiful girl in the world.

Even though it was his biggest regret.

Over time, the two of you became busier and busier, and the letters were less frequent. Eventually, the letter completely stopped coming in. You and Severus lost contact about five years after graduation, and now you had gone over a decade without seeing or hearing from one another. He still thought about you all the time.

He missed your smile, your laugh, your hair, your eyes, everything. He didn’t know how much he loved those things until he didn’t have them anymore. He often wondered if he’d ever see you again.

And then he did.

Severus had been passing down a hallway when he saw a very familiar face. He had to do a complete double take, stopping dead in his tracks and staring blankly. You had been walking alongside Headmaster Dumbledore, the two of you in a very cheerful conversation. Surely, that couldn’t be you. He hadn’t seen you in almost 15 years and suddenly you turn up at Hogwarts?

He felt like he was dreaming, half convinced that he wasn’t awake. But he saw you more clearly as you grew closer, and his heart did a joyful leap. He knew that smile anywhere. His best friend had returned.

“Severus?” You called, questioning and excitement in your tone when you noticed him standing at the end of the hall.

His pale cheeks went fiery red at the sudden use of his name. He hadn’t heard his name fall from your lips in a long time. It was music to his ears. You practically ran up to him, throwing your arms around him with a gleeful squeal. You smothered him in a hug, and he awkwardly returned it with one arm.

It was just like old times.

“Hi.” He replied meekly, but his mind was racing and his eyes were wide.

“Oh, I was hoping I’d get to see you today!” You shrieked.

Dumbledore was watching intently. He had known that the two of you went way back. He was tempted to bring up how flushed Severus looked now, but didn’t say anything about it.

“How nice it is to see two of Hogwarts’ brightest students together again.” Dumbledore declared.

You offered him a sweet smile, but Severus was still shell shocked.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, unable to look away from you.

You had both obviously aged some since the last time you had seen each other. You were still just as beautiful as the last day he saw you. You weren’t surprised that he looked about the same way he did before. Black robes, long hair, and a sour look on his face. Just the way you liked him.

“I’m taking over for Madam Pomfrey for a while. Just until she’s back on her feet.” You said.

Pomfrey was out with a nasty bout of the flu, something that even magic couldn’t fully cure. You’d be covering for her for a few weeks, but were hoping to possibly land a more full time gig at Hogwarts.

“I had no idea you were coming. How long have you been here?” He questioned.

Severus’ heart was beating so fast that he was afraid it might give out. The very person he had been dreaming of for so many years was now standing right in front of him. He was almost scared that you’d vanish if he did look away.

“I arrived this morning. Albus was just showing me around,” You explained; “The castle really hasn’t changed much since leaving...you’re looking well, Sev.”

You pushed some strands of hair behind his ear, something small that you used to always do when you were younger. It never failed to make his whole body feel a flutter at such an act of care. His mind felt foggy now, he could barely form a single thought other than the fact that he couldn’t believe you were there.

It became very clear that Severus was still sweet on you. He was still crushing like he did when he was 13.

“You look good now...uh, I mean, you looked hot before- you were fine before,” He stuttered, mentally smacking himself for his poor choice of wording; “You look great, [Y/N].”

Dumbledore fought the urge to burst into laughter. Severus had never been very flirtatious. You looked sheepishly at your feet, hiding your blush at the compliment. You had always found his shyness rather endearing, it gave him an innocence that was pure and lightening.

“I will leave the two of you to catch up.” Dumbledore said, gauging that it would be best if he moved on.

He left the two of you in the hall. You had a lot to talk about. Severus continued to walk with you slowly, savoring every moment. The two of you chatted, catching each other up on the last 15 years. It seemed as if Severus hadn’t really done much outside of being the Potions professor. As sad as it was, you weren’t really surprised to learn that he hadn’t found anyone to settle down with. He was almost in a vicious cycle that consisted of work, sleep, and eating. He didn’t realize how dull his life had become until you started telling him all the things you had done.

You traveled for a year or two after graduation (which he did know due to your letters in the beginning). You studied wizards and witches in other areas of other communities, learning from their differences and comparing similarities. You totally dove head first into the wizarding world, totally enchanted by how complex it really was. You had seen and done things that Severus could only ever dream of.

He was happy though. He was happy that you had done all of the things that you had always said you wanted to do. You were vibrant, successful, and taking full advantage of any great opportunity that came your way. He was so proud of you.

“How long do you expect to be here?” Severus asked you, hoping that it would be longer than just a few days.

The two of you had far too much to catch up on in such a short period of time.

“It’ll be at least three weeks. Pomfrey found where I lived and sent a letter as soon as she realized she’d have to be out,” You told him; “You know how she is. She doesn’t trust many people to handle her work.”

Severus smiled lightly, and nodded. Poppy Pomfrey was a VERY professional woman and never let just anyone take over her job. He at least knew that he wouldn’t lose contact with you this time. Severus didn’t want to flat out ask the one question that was really on his mind. He was dying to know what your relationship status was.

“I’m sure your husband is thrilled that you’ll be gone for so long.” Severus said as more of a hint than anything else.

He saw the way you awkwardly chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck bashfully. You shook your head.

“Oh, I’m not married.” You admitted.

“No?” Severus asked to confirm casually, but his stomach was doing excited flips.

While you hadn’t been shocked that he wasn’t married, he was totally shocked that you weren’t. He had always thought you’d find someone straight out of Hogwarts and be married within a few years. When the letters stopped coming, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever know how your life turned out.

“You sound surprised,” You noted; “But I suppose I just haven’t found the right guy yet.”

You knew that was a lie. You knew that you never settled down because you had been hanging on to a sliver of hope that you and Severus would reconnect one day. After losing contact with him, you had always said that if you were given the chance to even possibly see him again, you’d drop everything and take it.

You were so glad you had taken that chance.

“I must say I am surprised. You’re so beautif- so kind that I always thought that you’d get married soon after graduation.” He said, covering up another one of his stutters.

“Well, you know. Life has its ways of getting the perfect timing, doesn’t it?” You suggested.

Before he could answer, you took notice of the time, knowing you needed to get back to Dumbledore to finish getting acclimated before the new school week began.

“I need to go. It’s been so nice seeing you. We need to catch up more,” You said, taking a leap of faith; “I’ve missed you...”

He felt his heart speak before his head, but it was the full truth.

“Oh, I’ve missed you tremendously. I’ve thought about you every day since your letters stopped coming.” He blurted out.

Your eyes sparkled at that, you smiled genuinely.

“You have? You really mean that?” You queried.

He was a little embarrassed that he had sputtered it out like that, but he was glad you knew it.

“I do.” He confirmed.

You stroked his cheek gently with your hand, tempted to kiss him. You knew that this was your professions of love for each other. Awkward and forward. Just like the two of you were.

“How did we go so long without seeing one another?” You asked him, inching closer together.

“I have no idea.” He said, closing the gap and kissing you softly.

It was a tender, appreciative kiss that was full of want that had been built up since you were young students. It felt fresh and like a new beginning. A beginning that would actually be the start of Severus’ life. He would have someone to look forward to everyday, someone to share his passions with. But there was one thing that was most important.

He’d have someone to share his heart with.

#severus snape #severus #severus snape x you #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #professor snape #professor snape x you #professor snape x reader #alan rickman #Harry Potter #harry potter snape #seriouslysnape

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evienyx · 3 years

Text

DSMP Citizens POV 5: The L'Manburg Captain

DSMPsona created by anon

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DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

DSMPsona Submission Rules

- - -

Bones was, to say it simply, sick of fighting.

The Guard had been fighting other people’s battles for as long as he could remember. Being raised by two guards on Hypixel, he grew up around fighting. He would be there as his parents broke up violent fights in lobbies, as they enforced the server rules when the admins couldn’t, and he watched as they slowly turned to him to teach him to do the same.

He had become a guard himself, but he grew weary of the fast-paced life of Hypixel. The server was always updating, always changing, and with the highest and fastest-growing population of any server, it was hard to keep track of what was going on.

So, eventually, Bones picked up his things, went to the server hub, and left.

He bounced from one smaller survival server to another, eventually hearing about something called the ‘Dream SMP’ server. Knowing that he had nothing better to do, the Guard decided to join it.

He spawned in a spruce forest, walled in on every side. There were others around the server portal that he had just emerged from, all milling around.

“What’s going on?” Bones asked someone nearby.

The woman he had addressed sighed, and she sounded exhausted. “We’re all just waiting to be greeted.”

After another hour, Dream, a man famous for both his parkour and combat skills, appeared and greeted the newest members of the server. He hadn’t realized that the Dream was the Admin of this world.

Two others stood next to the Admin. One, dressed in regal apparel, wore dark sunglasses over their eyes, a crown resting over their brow. The other wore what looked to be a war uniform. His hands folded behind his back, his gaze steady as it swept over the crowd, he had a firm smile on his face.

The first introduced herself as King Eret, leader of the Greater SMP, while the second called himself President Wilbur Soot, the head of a newly-formed country known as L’Manburg.

The Guard, who considered himself to always be on the side of the people, heard that L’Manburg had recently gained independence after fighting a Revolution in order to “free themselves from tyranny.” The Guard moved into L’Manburg the next day.

He was given a free place to live for a month, giving him time to acclimate to the server, as well as get a job to be able to actually get his own place. Not knowing what else to do, Bones joined the L’Manburg army. He didn’t care for fighting, but it was the only thing that he was good at.

His reputation from Hypixel preceded him, apparently. Being a guard on the biggest server was a very respected career, and Bones found it easy to move up the ranks rather quickly. It probably helped that the L’Manburg forces were rather lacking in terms of officers with actual experience. Guard training on Hypixel was often more intense than many servers’ military training programs, as well, so Bones had no trouble dominating in L’Manburg’s program.

When the elections occurred, the Soldier proudly cast his vote for President Soot and VP Tommy. Bones voted for the people, and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit were for the people.

The election results, then, were upsetting, to say the least. Bones refused to listen as the new President Schlatt exiled the previous administration and called on the forces of L’Manburg to kill them. He stood in place, nails digging into his palm and screaming profanities as President Soot was bowed down and VP Tommy managed to just barely slip away.

That evening, while on patrol (which he had been demoted to for a month after his show during the inauguration), Bones spotted someone in the treeline.

“Who’s there?” The Soldier called. There was nothing for a moment and Bones aimed his crossbow at the forest. The bushes rustled and then TommyInnit stepped out, his hands raised above his head.

“Vice President?” Bones asked, lowering the crossbow. The leaves shifted again and another emerged. The Soldier blinked, shock holding him in place. “Technoblade?”

Technoblade raised an eyebrow and glanced down at VP Tommy. “Do I need to kill this guy?”

VP Tommy shook his head emphatically. “I don’t think so.” He turned back to Bones. “Do we need to kill you?”

“Are you starting a rebellion?” Bones asked, ignoring the question. A nod was given in response, and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Can I join?”

VP Tommy grinned up at Technoblade. “Told you!” The teenager looked back at the Soldier. “Go ask Niki! Wil said she’s making a rebellion inside Manburg, he sent her the Pogtopia coordinates!”

Bones nodded. “You best be going. I’m meant to be on patrol.”

VP Tommy lazily saluted and bolted off into the woods. Technoblade stared at Bones, gave him a curt nod, and then was gone as well.

The next day, after getting the location of the rebellionfrom Niki Nihachu, Bones gathered his valuables, his beloved dog Rosa, and ran. As he wove through the trees, following the beeping of the communicator to reach the correct coordinates, the Soldier wondered if he would be demoted for this.

He knocked on the rock wall the way that he had been shown to at the bakery, and it slid open to reveal an exhausted-looking President Soot.

The man’s eyes lit up when they landed on him.

“Captain Bones!” President Soot exclaimed, reaching out a hand to shake it firmly. Bones ignored how shaky the other’s fingers were. “What brings you here?” He paused. “Are you here to capture us? Because we’re not on L’Manburg land.”

Bones shook his head. “I heard you’re starting a rebellion?”

Soot’s eyes widened, and then he grinned and ushered the Captain inside.

Pogtopia was a ravine with grayed stones that reflected the mood of all who lived there. Bones started teaching a combat course for those who didn’t know how to fight, and the determination that shone in the eyes of teenagers who were just now choosing to pick up a weapon made him wonder when it had all come to this.

The Captain’s days in Pogtopia were not particularly memorable. He watched as President Soot slowly delved deeper and deeper in paranoia, to the point where he started accusing people like Bones, who had been in the rebellion since the beginning, of being spies all along.

Bones would dig his fingers in the fur of his dog on days like these and remember the inspiring leader that President Soot had once been.

Then, they won against Manburg on November 16th, and President Soot blew up the country before dying himself, and the Captain watched as President Tubbo stood in front of the people of L’Manburg and made promises of a brighter future.

And for a bit of time, it seemed like that could be true.

Then, though, as all good things do, the happiness came to an abrupt end as it was announced that VP Tommy had griefed the vacation home of GeorgeNotFound, the recently-crowned king of the Greater SMP. Dream, the Admin of the server himself, offered President Tubbo a choice: Exile TommyInnit, or their two factions would go to war.

The people of L’Manburg were all generally on the same page, screaming in the streets about how they were ready to fight again. TommyInnit was one of the founding members of the country, he had been there since the beginning. For Bones, though, above all else, it was about the fact that VP Tommy was a teenager. The Captain took to the streets with the others, calling out their readiness to go to war.

When VP Tommy was exiled, then, and sent off to some far-off island, Bones was back in the streets again, yelling at the top of his lungs about the injustice done against a child, thanks to the work of a foreign power.

“L’Manburg has never bowed down at the will of Dream before!” He exclaimed. “We aren’t going to start now!” His call was echoed by those around him, as the people called for justice to be served.

Weeks passed with the people of L’Manburg being tense and angry, the air stewing with conflict. On the eve of January 5th, the people were gathered and listened as President Tubbo, with VP Tommy somehow by his side, explained that the next day, their country would be destroyed.

That night, Bones moved Rosa and all the things that he actually cared about to his assigned tent at the campsite offered up to the L’Manburg residents. As people trickled into the camp, the Captain took anyone who wanted to try and fight the next day and continued the training sessions he’d led back in Pogtopia. There was a greater level of melancholy that had fallen over the people, but they listened nonetheless, and Bones taught and taught until his eyes were stinging from unshed tears and his muscles burned all through his body.

“Get some sleep,” President Tubbo said, joining Bones on the makeshift stage he had taken so that the whole crowd that he was training could see him. “You all are going to need it. Thank you for working so hard to fight for our country.” The teenager wiped at his eyes, and Bones realized through his exhaustion that the president was crying, too. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” President Tubbo nodded to the Captain, stepped off the stage, and was gone.

Doomsday was, to say the least, a disaster. L’Manburg was blown down to bedrock, there was nothing anyone could do, and by the end of it, Bones stood with the people of a ruined country and looked down at what remained of their home: A hole, one so deep and wide that nothing would ever be built there again.

King Eret stood next to President Tubbo and VP Tommy, overlooking the destruction.

“L’Manburg is gone,” President Tubbo finally said, addressing the crowd. “There will be no rebuilding from this. I’m so sorry, everyone.” Tears were streaming down his face. “L’Manburg was meant to be a safe place, somewhere that people could come to be happy and free. Maybe that was how it was in the beginning, but we lost our way. Maybe in another world, things could have been different.” The teenager laughed wetly, his eyes red as he turned to look at the people. “We did it wrong, but, hey, at least we tried.” He sniffed. “Maybe next time, we’ll do it better.” President Tubbo stopped talking, and everyone was silent for a moment. Then, King Eret began speaking.

“The campsite will remain set up for three more months. You may stay there while you search for a new place to live, whether that be somewhere on this server or on a different one entirely,” King Eret explained, her hands folded neatly behind her back. They glanced back at the crater, and Bones swore he saw a single tear trickle down their face. “L’Manburg was an inspiration to all of the server,” King Eret said. “It will be mourned for centuries.”

Bones, now a veteran of a fallen nation, stayed on the server. He found a piece of land, outside of the borders of the Greater SMP, and settled down there. He learned to farm from a family that lived within the Greater SMP’s territory, and purchased livestock and seeds so he could begin a new life.

The Veteran, with Rosa at his side, settled down for a quieter life. Maybe things would be better now, he supposed. Maybe here, in land that belonged to no one but himself, with no elections to worry about or wars to fight, Bones would be all right. Maybe now, finally, the server could begin to heal, to eventually rise up and fight against the tyranny of their Admin so that peace could finally reign.

(When the news came in on the communicators, then, that Dream had been captured and imprisoned within the maximum security cell of Pandora’s Vault, Bones joined the people in the street, cheering until his voice gave out and drinking until he passed out from happiness.

Then, he buried his face in Rosa’s fur and let out a genuine laugh for the first time in months.

Finally, finally, things could get better.)

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spookyheaad · 3 years

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I've recently become obsessed with the song Svanrand by Heilung. When I listened to the Hellblade Trailer version of the band's song In Maidjan first, then Svanrand a picture of an idea I've been sitting on began to form.

There's a Norse practice that's not entirely well known about, called Seiđr(probably spelled wrong because phones don't have keys for every language). Seiđr is essentially a practice of Divination magic through various means. In this case sex was a common way to go about it, dancing(though the sort was never specified no matter how research I did on it) of some kind, and a few other things I may be forgetting. One thing I do know is Seiđr, like most magic in Norse culture was viewed as feminine. Thus men doing it was often seen as something to look down on. Guys caught doing it were often beaten from what my research has shown me. I also know it may have come from the fact the Norse had a very 'odd', for lack of better term, view on gays and lesbians. While perfectly fine with two women being partners, they were only cool with gay guys that were 'tops'. Bottoms were seen as submissive, and thus not manly. Which was apparently worthy of disdain if not beatings? Norse culture is just...strange to research sometimes seriously. Seiđr was also a practice overseen and started by the Vanir Gullveig. Who some believe became Freya later after the whole thrice burned thrice born incident.

Anyways....listening to those two songs in tangent with each other, I had a thought..again. That being what if Death was a practioner of Seiđr as a way to sort of reclaim his sexuality among other possible reasons? One that could not only protect himself(I mean any Norsemen who would mess with Death would probably not win that fight), but others as well. Perhaps even taking on a teacher role at one point as well, and probably being one of very VERY few males to take such a role. I put this idea forth mainly to see what ya think. Sorry about the massive length, always had a chatterbox issue at times heheh...

Oh it’s very much ok haha, I tend to ramble a lot when I talk about things I like.

I like the idea of Death trying to reclaim sex, as it is definitely tainted to him. This actually partially goes off of an idea that I have, that Death was always more quiet and gentle (by Nephilim standards), or would enjoy things like books and crafting. I believe that Absalom saw this in Death, and because Death is a Firstborn and henceforth a pillar of the Nephilim community in which all who came after them looked up to, he beat the kindness/gentleness out of him; it was not warlike, it was not powerful, therefore Absalom wanted nothing to do with it and nothing of the sort within Nephilim culture.

I see The Nephilim as holding the Spartan way of life: might is right, strength prevails over all. The weak are left to die. So Absalom saw beating the kinder, more softer aspects of Death’s personality out of him as doing it for Death’s sake; because Absalom had an odd way of showing that he cared no doubt, and wanted Death to be respected.

I really think something of that nature happened back on the Nephilim homeworld especially because Death is so quick to pretend that he isn’t kind or does not care, when in reality he silently cares very much.

Anything gentle or intimate has been ruined, and he needs to realize that fragility is very much equal or more powerful than brute strength. Vulnerability/the ability to be vulnerable is very much a strength in itself.

As for sex, I believe that Death needs to be able to trust someone very very much to even think about matters of a sexual nature. I actually just posted a long post about my Darksiders OC, Zemira; who I made to be a partner to Death, and she helps him open up more and acclimates him to things like intimate touch, and allowing himself to be vulnerable and gentle.

I’ve also always seen Death as taking on some form of teacher/father (or a mix of both) role towards War, Strife, and Fury; as I love the idea that he raised the three of them.

#really interesting ask!!!#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #darksiders death #darksiders genesis #darksiders war #darksiders strife #darksiders fury #darksiders abaslom #headcanons #darksiders headcanons #ask #1stunseeliefaelass

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 4 years

Text

Wrestling with the Bible’s most disturbing stories

An excerpt from Rachel Held Evan’s book Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again

“Growing up, I noticed the ugly details in the Sunday school stories; children always do. I remember I was deeply troubled by the fact that God drowned all but two of each kind of animal in the Great Flood (to say nothing of all the people), and wondered aloud at the dinner table how God could be all-knowing and all-powerful, but also filled with regret. A friend's seven-year-old captured the angst well when she recently asked, 'Mom, is God the good guy or the bad guy in this story?'

This question of God's character haunted every scene and every act and every drama of the Bible. ...Feminist scholar Phyllis Trible aptly named these narratives 'texts of terror.'

'If art imitates life,' she wrote, 'scripture likewise reflects it in both holiness and horror.'

Rereading the texts of terror as a young woman, I kept anticipating some sort of postscript or epilogue chastising the major players for their sins, a sort of Arrested Development-style 'lesson' to wrap it all up -- 'And that's why you should always challenge the patriarchy!' But no such epilogue exists. While women are raped, killed, and divided as plunder, God stands by, mute as clay. I waited for a word from God, but none came.

...When I turned to pastors and professors for help, they urged me to set aside my objections, to simply trust that God is good and that the Bible's war stories happened as told, for reasons beyond my comprehension.

'God's ways are higher than our ways,' they insisted. 'Stop trying to know the mind of God.'

It's an understandable approach. Human beings are finite and fallible, prone to self-delusion and sentimentality. If we rely exclusively on our feelings to guide us to truth, we are bound to get lost.

When asked in 2010 about Joshua's conquest of Canaan, Reformed pastor and theologian John Piper declared, without hesitation, 'It's right for God to slaughter women and children anytime he pleases. God gives life and he takes life. Everybody who dies, dies because God wills that they die.'

Piper's dispassionate acceptance represented pure, committed faith, I was told, while mine had been infected by humanism and emotion -- 'a good example of why women should be kept from church leadership,' one acquaintance said.

And for a moment, I believed it. For a moment, I felt silly for responding so emotionally to a bunch of old war stories that left the rest of the faithful seemingly unfazed.

But this is the deleterious snare of fundamentalism: It claims that the heart is so corrupted by sin, it simply cannot be trusted to sort right from wrong, good from evil, divine from depraved. Instinct, intuition, conscience, critical thinking -- these impulses must be set aside whenever they appear to contradict the biblical text, because the good Christian never questions the 'clear teachings of Scripture'; the good Christian listens to God, not her gut.

I've watched people get so entangled in this snare they contort into shapes unrecognizable. When you can't trust your own God-given conscience to tell you what's right, or your own God-given conscience to tell you what's true, you lose the capacity to engage the world in any meaningful, authentic way, and you become an easy target for authoritarian movements eager to exploit that vacuity for their gain. I tried reading Scripture with my conscience and curiosity suspended, and I felt, quite literally, disintegrated. I felt fractured and fake.

Brené Brown warned us we can't selectively numb our emotions, and no doubt this applies to the emotions we have about our faith. If the slaughter of Canaanite children elicits only a shrug, then why not the slaughter of Pequots? Of Syrians? Of Jews? If we train ourselves not to ask hard questions about the Bible, and to emotionally distance ourselves from any potential conflicts or doubts, then where will we find the courage to challenge interpretations that justify injustice? How will we know when we've got it wrong?

'Belief in a cruel god makes a cruel man,' Thomas Paine said. If the Bible teaches that God is love, and love can look like genocide and violence and rape, then love can look like...anything. It's as much an invitation to moral relativism as you'll find anywhere.

I figured if God was real, then God didn't want the empty devotion of some shadow version of Rachel, but rather my whole, integrated self. So I decided to face the Bible's war stories head-on, mind and heart fully engaged, willing to risk the loss of faith if that's where the search led.

I listened to sermons. I read commentaries and theology books. I became a real downer at dinner parties:

'If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?' 'Have you seen any of the Oscar-nominated films this year?' 'What's your Enneagram number?' 'Do you think God condones genocide?'

The explanations came hurried and certain. Oh, God told Israel to wipe out the Canaanites because the Canaanites were super-duper evil, like the worst people ever. They worshipped idols and had orgies and sacrificed children to their gods. So God condemned the practice of child sacrifice...by slaughtering children? Well, that's just how things were back then. It was kill or be killed, tribal warfare and all that. Israel did what it had to do to survive....

I began to feel a bit like the disheveled Berenger, a character from Eugène Ionesco's play Rhinoceros, who grows increasingly bewildered as the people of his provincial French town acclimate to the sudden presence of rhinoceroses in their community. In one scene, a rhinoceros thunders through the town square, trampling a housecat. After their initial shock, the villagers get sidetracked debating whether the rhino had one horn or two, and whether its origins are Asiatic or African. And on it goes throughout the play, as the townspeople themselves transform into rhinos, one by one, arguing all the while over pointless trivialities, until only Berenger remains human.

The play is about fascism, I think, but it reminds me a bit of Christians and their Bibles. Sometimes it seems as if there are all these rhinoceroses barreling through the pages of Scripture, pooping on sidewalks and flattening housecats, but we've grown so accustomed to defending their presence we end up debating the length of their tails.

...

My questions came with consequences. We left the church in which I was raised, and rumors of my 'rebellious spirit' circulated around town, prompting more than a few well-meaning interventions. ...

But accepting the Bible's war stories without objection threatened to erase my humanity. ‘We don’t become more spiritual by becoming less human,’ Eugene Peterson said. How could I love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength while disengaging those very faculties every time I read the Bible?

So I brought my whole self into the wilderness with God – no faking, no halfway. And there we wrestled."

#rachel held evans #inspired #bible #bible study #christian books #progressive christians #reading and studying the bible #bible tag #long post #quote tag

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sepublic · 3 years

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New Wartwood, Friend or Frobo!

This was ANOTHER great episode you guys, two exciting things culminating, and I just… YES!

I love how a recurring theme in both parts of this episode is two strangers who are added to the Plantar family and status quo in Wartwood (I mean Marcy technically isn’t a stranger but she’s a new addition in terms of permanence), and how both episodes have the townsfolk react suspiciously! The people of Wartwood calling back to Anne’s own destruction was neat, it was nice to see Anne guide someone else through the same things she went through, except Marcy doesn’t quite have to do it alone- And Marcy herself seems pretty mature! All things considered, it wasn’t like she just chose to renovate the town against everyone’s wishes, she was following Mayor Toadstool… Which granted, she should’ve listened to Anne’s warning, but still!

In general, I like how this episode has both the gags of the townspeople being ready to be an angry mob, but also there’s this sense of… Newcomers like in the beginning of the show, except we have a more developed Plantar family to help them through it! It’s incredibly sweet and I love it… And I’m SO hyped to see Marcy and Frobo interact more, I was looking forward to her reaction to them- And I want to see the two bond over being the newcomers to Wartwood, as recent adoptees to the Plantar family, more or less, etc.! I want to see Marcy freak out over Frobo and help them explore their abilities and function, and add her own knowledge and research…

…But I AM wary of Marcy inevitably writing back to Andrias about the whole thing. Goodness, what if Frobo is broken down for spare parts, or used to help power and heal his master? Is there some connection, would Frobo recognize the Night- Will the Night possess Frobo like Calamity Ganon with the Guardians? We already have so many Breath of the Wild parallels, in addition to Frobo having destructive laser beams… We could get a tragic Iron Giant plot, with Frobo struggling against the Night, maybe even a permanent destruction! That’d really hurt, while also providing more context and background to what the Night was capable of and probably did, what happened in the past, etc.!

I like how Marcy had the maturity to learn to apologize herself, instead of hiding behind Anne- And it’s neat seeing how she tries to earn love with big, grandiose gestures… I wonder if she learned this from Sasha? Who seems like the kind of person who’d make friends by doing things for people, given how rich she is and how kids are invited to her parties and so forth; And what with it being part of Sasha’s manipulative nature, innocent Marcy picked up on it? Thought this was normal? OH DANG, that could be a toxic trait she learned from Sasha, and we could see her unlearn Sasha’s toxicity the way Anne did! Again, it’s fascinating to see this same storyline redone but with a different character, it’s almost like watching an AU but within canon!

Also, I know Toadstool insisted that he wouldn’t learn, but he went out of his way to try to vouch for Marcy at least a little, or at least take his part in the blame; And what with his upcoming redemption episode, it’s neat to see him slowly grow as a character too! Again, I liked the callbacks and seeing Anne become more of a seasoned veteran whose seen things for people, like how she warns Marcy about Toadstool’s schemes… But just in general, like how she lectures Sprig and Polly about how they need to know Bessie’s story to drive her, and so forth! It’s this proud sense of people growing up, and then passing things on to the next generation, a passing of the torch and maturity!

Speaking of which- We also get to see that with Polly! Polly learning to be an older sibling to Frobo is great, that’s such a neat idea we’ve never seen before, and it adds to her character’s development as she continues to appreciate what others have to go through with her! I like how Frobo is technically younger than Polly in a sense, but also incredibly destructive like her, so you got the baby siblings being destructive… And again, seeing our main cast teach others is incredibly heartwarming, it makes the journey feel all the more well-rounded and nostalgic; We’re seeing how they’ve grown by watching how they become mentors to others, I love this SO much!

Also, I like how Marcy and Hop Pop are getting along more! We got a glimpse of this beforehand, but now we’re really getting into it, especially with Marcy’s fascination with Wartwood- I think it’s neat the detail of it essentially being a bunch of buoyant sod and topsoil placed over swampwater! It doesn’t add much beyond the peril of this little episode, but it’s very neat worldbuilding and a fun concept, and it reminds me of how some cultures created floating gardens! Which, fits Wartwood being an agricultural society, and it just fleshes out how the Amphibians manage to interact with the wild and cultivate it more, it’s so fun! I wonder if this subterranean swamp has anything to do with the various animals we see… Were the herons attracted to the water and perhaps fish beneath? Those monstrous lampreys that flooded the basement, was that from the swamp below? It’s all incredibly fascinating worldbuilding with so much fun, neat implications, I’m genuinely obsessed with it!

But, back to Marcy and Hop Pop- It’s neat that Hop Pop is finding someone who can appreciate his old-fashioned interests more… It feels like this family is becoming more fulfilled and less lonely as people find each other and bond, fulfill one another in different ways! This old frog is being understood more and more, and now he has a fellow nerd! I’d love to see Marcy learn how to drive Bessie, and I like that Hop Pop has another human stranger who’s enriching his life, and acting as someone he can count on to help him with his grandkids, an older child he can relate to! It just warms my heart after seeing him get along with Anne during the trip back to Wartwood, the more the merrier! And it’s incredibly sweet that Marcy gets the Fwagon all to herself… Which again, would make it hurt if it got destroyed, but whatever;

My point is, it’s neat how this journey in this home that brought them to Marcy, it ends up being for her too! It’s like the journey hasn’t quite ended yet, they brought someone back with them… And Marcy gets to sleep where Anne slept, get to live where the others lived! It just feels incredibly heartwarming and it’s such a kind and homely, nostalgic gesture… Again, she really feels more like a part of the family, so I can see things changing where Marcy doesn’t just want to be with Anne, but the rest of the Plantars too! Seeing her develop her relationship with them is great.

Again, I’d like to see Marcy maybe interact with Sprig and Polly more too- Maybe she and Polly can bond over liking Frobo? Frobo and Polly become friends? And while Frobo as an individual does not concern me in regards to intentions; Their design is a bit sus, given the eye-lasers. Though, Amphibia is such a dangerous place that Frobo having defensive capabilities makes sense… But the idea of there being an entire army of Frobos, many of whom could’ve gone destructive and ravaged Amphibia? Genuinely terrifying with how powerful, with such a diverse range of abilities, that Frobo has- They could lift all of Stumpy’s casually! Again, like the Guardians from Breath of the Wild…

But yeah, it’s really fun these evened-out, pairings among the family now; You have Sprig and Anne… Hop Pop and Marcy… And Frobo and Polly! But also, Marcy and Anne are close to one another as well, Hop Pop has everything with his pre-existing kids… So it’ll be fascinating to see Frobo adjust, and maybe see Marcy try her hand at being a guide to them as well! Maybe they can both bond over being clumsy and not meaning to cause accidents, but also being adept and having a wide range of skills, and perhaps being seen as ‘robotic’ in the sense that they don’t understand social cues and are figuring them out… It’d be SUCH a neurodivergent mood! Then we have Anne, Marcy, and Frobo being the local freak shows and adopted family, Hop Pop, Polly, and Sprig the ‘normals’ acclimating them to Wartwood, etc.!

All in all this was another fascinating episode, in terms of character dynamics, themes, the development of our protagonists getting to shine, glimpses into lore, changes to the status quo… It’s all wonderful, I knew I’d love this episode, but WOW it was good! Animation for Frobo was superb and I loved Marcy’s outfit from Toadstool, and Mrs. Croaker’s little joke about being suspicious with Marcy for a while, it reminds me of the fandom in a meta sense! Here’s looking forward to the next one, F-Anne’s!

#amphibia #amphibia marcy #marcy wu #amphibia frobo #amphibia polly #polly plantar #amphibia toadstool #mayor toadstool #wartwood #analysis #speculation

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vidavalor · 3 years

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The Tiger Code, you guys...

*Contains spoilers for episodes 1 through 3 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier*

TFATWS, Ep.1:

Bucky tests out his newfound modern world possibilities for openness by telling Leah, a woman he’s theoretically on a date with, that he’s bisexual. He does so euphemistically but that’s still pretty wild for a guy who last danced (and likely “danced”) in 1943. He chooses to say he likes men by commenting about on how he tried online dating but found it overwhelming because what was with all the “tiger pictures”? As we know, tiger pictures are more often than not found on profiles of men, heavily suggesting that Bucky was looking to match with men while attempting online dating. That’s all fun and all but now cut to Ep 3...

TFATWS, Ep 3:

Our dynamic duo goes undercover with Zemo in Madripoor and what is Sam’s cover identity? Conrad Mack, a man nicknamed...

“The Smiling Tiger.”

The odds of that being a coincidental choice on the part of the writers is zero percent. So, what could it really mean?

If Bucky creates in the context of the show the use of the word “tiger” as parlance meaning “men who aren’t straight” and the show then gives Sam a role with the word “tiger” in it, it is making that direct connection and saying that Sam isn’t straight-- something that many viewers of his role in previous MCU movies could see as having been suggested subtly all along. But wait, you might say... wasn’t Sam playing a role? Is the nod really that Sam can only play act at being a tiger? Nope, it’s not that...

While Sam gets the slightly lighter story in Ep 3 in that more of his undercover role is played for comedy, it contrasts Bucky’s foray back into playing at being The Winter Soldier. The point of the episode is to illustrate how Bucky cannot fully separate himself from what he’s done as The Winter Soldier. It wasn’t his fault and shouldn’t be seen as such-- by him or by anyone else-- but it is a part of his own personal history and is the root of much of the trauma he is dealing with in the present. The idea is that going undercover and playing a role of what he used to be more overtly brings to the surface Bucky’s trauma-- because now he has to act out The Winter Soldier, even if he is under his own control. ln a way, the mission gives Bucky the first chance he’s ever had to act like The Winter Soldier while under control of his own mind. Sure, it’s going to mess him up but, in the long run, it probably will be weirdly healthy because he is proving to himself that he can control himself. He is disabusing himself of the notion that The Winter Soldier can take him back over against his will. He hasn’t had the opportunity to really do that before. What does this have to do with his Smiling Tiger?

Sam is then paralleling that. Sam is an upbeat guy, a confident guy, though he’s going to have insecurities like anyone else. He’s played as sort of the inverse of Bucky-- he jokes, he laughs, he’s not stoic, he is more sociable and more in control of his own trauma responses. They have a lot more in common than they might think and a lot more than just Steve but they often take the opposite approaches to it-- which makes them somewhat invaluable to one another. While I don’t see Sam as being enormously tortured about his sexuality, I can’t imagine he’s not had his share of struggles over it. What’s important about it in terms of his role so far in the MCU and on TFATWS is that it’s in the backseat, entirely. Sam is one of the few fairly major MCU characters to not have a formal love interest and instead, is coded as heavily as Bucky has been. Both Sam and Bucky are going through dealing with the expectations of the past and how they inform their present choices and the lives they want to build. Bucky has to reckon with The Winter Soldier and Sam is reckoning with why he chose not to become Captain America. We have so far seen Sam’s reasoning very clearly and in great storytelling-- we can understand why. Sam’s is a story of understandably feeling like the country he loves doesn’t truly love people who look like him in return and how America isn’t ready for a black Captain America. Underscoring his decision is the reveal when he learns that there *was* a black Captain America-- and he has a terribly tragic story. But what if there is another component to this for Sam as well? The Sam we first met, before he was on the run with Steve, was a guy working through the traumas of war-- a nice, seemingly single guy who worked as a counselor at the VA. He seems like a man open and friendly to those who need his help but who likes to live his own private life (making him, really, perhaps, not that fundamentally different from Bucky, if a less extreme case). Being Captain America would throw literal spotlights on Sam, even more so than being Falcon has. ‘Good Morning, America’-level spotlights. Steve Rogers-level spotlights. This is all assuming he’d get even a third of what John Walker did but even that would be a lot to deal with. Is it really maybe that not only does Sam think that America isn’t ready for the first (to their knowledge) black Captain America but not ready for the first *black and gay* Captain America? Does Sam maybe want to meet somebody at some point, to have that freedom to be who he is and control over that part of his life without someone telling him that Captain America needs a pretty girl at his side?

The whole ‘Smiling Tiger’ thing might suggest this is the case and could be, should Marvel really make good on that promise to have more LGBTIA characters thing, something that is revealed throughout the season. If the undercover operation was about making these characters a little uncomfortable with the parts of themselves they don’t always put on display and don’t know how to reconcile with in their present lives-- if it was about Bucky getting an opportunity to, ultimately, learn he can control The Winter Soldier (even if he’d really have preferred not to go through this whole thing), what was it for Sam? What’s the point of The Smiling Tiger? Did you notice how people in the bar were watching by the dozens, some probably with phones, and Sam didn’t hesitate, even in the middle of a mission, to reach out to comfort Bucky? As it turns out, Sam is basically terrible at undercover work. It’s impossible for him to not be himself because he’s that genuine so even if he’s playing somebody else, it’s really all him there, in a parallel to the idea that Bucky is only playing The Winter Soldier in this moment and isn’t really and never really has been him. So, Sam really *is*, in essence, The Smiling Tiger (this version of the guy, anyway.) A guy who will go the extra mile to see a mission through, no matter the danger (see: drinking that snake drink) but who cannot fully check himself at the door and become someone else for anything (see: forgot to shut his phone off so that Sarah winds up becoming part of his cover, blending together Sam Wilson and The Smiling Tiger into basically the same person.)

The irony of this is that while Sam is more equipped at managing trauma than Bucky is-- not to say that Sam doesn’t have his own share of personal hells he has been through and doesn’t still likely have nightmares and the like, he’s just become more acclimated with strategies for mitigating their effects on his life-- Bucky, ironically, might be better equipped to handle the idea of a more modern take on the crossroads of masculinity and sexuality. While The Winter Soldier has Bucky a mess that Sam can help pick up, it’s ironically going to be the guy who has basically admitted he hasn’t had sex since 1943 who is going to help Sam get beyond the issues he might have with being a gay black man with a ton of expectations on him. Somehow, even though he’s not used to this world, I think Bucky’s bemusement that this is still a thing for men decades after he was last young is the perfect counterpoint to Sam’s more advanced therapeutic strategies for managing Bucky’s PTSD. After all, which one of them was insecure about what he was wearing (saying he looked like a pimp when it also could be read as saying he worried he looked too gay) and which one of them casually outed himself to a woman he’d only recently met?

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #thefalconandthewintersoldier #sambucky #sam wilson #buckysam #bucky #winterfalcon #sebastian stan #anthony mackie #falcon #the falcon and the winter soldier

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needsmoresleepwrites · 3 years

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"We understand why you did it but...we're a team, right? Together we can fly even higher. Always." (HQ Fluff Week, D1)

Restless, Ch2

Read Chapter 1 | Ao3

Hinata can't help the bouncing. It's been years since he's been back and after "sightseeing" from afar (because really, they could still be recognized, it hadn't been that long since they left) they're home.

Tsukishima scoffs, "It's only been a few years for us, it's been nearly their whole lives."

Hinata smiles, grabs Tsukishima's hand in his, reminds himself that yes, that's true, it could have been Tsukishima's whole life, nearly gone in the sixty years they'd been away, is glad they found a way to make it not so. But he also feels slightly guilty. Was Tsukishima glad he'd left all of this behind? It was still early but what if...

Tsukishima squeezes his hand, "Stop thinking, you always think about stupid things and then get sad."

Hinata pouts, "Not stupid!"

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, "Really? Then why the constipated look? Need a bathroom? You can probably run into the woods." He frowns at the lack of homes as they continue to follow the road, "Where did they say to meet again? I can't believe Tadashi lives so far..."

Meanwhile Hinata just splutters, "That's so unsanitary!! And no I'm not constipated, we haven't even eaten human food!!"

Tsukishima laughs and tugs at his arm, "Then everything is okay, let's hurry."

Hinata feels a smile come to his face again and he yells out, "Okay!" Because really, Tsukishima is right, somehow everything has been alright

Which is why they even have this opportunity

---

After being gone with little to no communication, most of Karasuno had paid them a surprise visit at their new home, which was so far out North that Tsukishima had nearly frozen when they'd first moved there.

(Hinata remembers how he'd felt so useless, unable to help warm Tsukishima. It was the opposite really, his body much too cold, and after sleeping together for years, making sure to keep his distance, at least at night when Tsukishima's temperature also dropped, had made him very sad. They'd both acclimated to the situation in time)

They had only just finished a feeding session, which Tsukishima had almost forcefully made Hinata do. He'd noticed how Hinata somehow felt colder, he had been spacing out, and that tanned tinge to his skin was starting to become paler. He had started to look like, well, a creature

"Just hurry up and drink!" He'd pushed his arm under Hinatas nose, his sweater sleeve drawn up. He'd seen the way Hinata's eyes had dilated, his mouth opened, but still he held back

He'd sighed, touched Hinata's lips, "It's okay, I'll be fine, it'll only be a bit."

Hinata had drank, carefully, watching him, making sure he really was okay. He'd then lapped at his skin, tickling him with his tongue, kissed the fading and new marks of his teeth, staining his lips red, and then bandaged him up, pulled his sleeve down, kissed him over the cloth, held his hand

"I love you."

The knock came when Hinata was putting away the first aid kit

They had both been confused. They hadn't told anyone their new address, although they also hadn't tried to hide it either (anyone who truly wanted to find them could with a bit of detective work). Tsukishima pulled on a small blanket over his shoulders as Hinata went to open the door

Karasuno's relieved but upset faces greeted him

They'd sat around their small living room, the air slightly tense.

It had been interesting to see Hinata apologize and try to hide what was going on, his flailing and muttered words so obviously lies that even Kageyama wasn't convinced.

Tsukishima had finally given into Hinata's side stare and admitted, "He's a vampire."

Hinata just gaped at him.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it was Kageyama who broke the silence with a so that's why your hands were always so cold, which made Tsukishima want to facepalm. Really? So easily? And because of that? Hinata could have just had bad circulation (although thinking about it, that probably wouldn't have made much sense either)

But then the pieces began to come into place for the others too and Tsukishima begrudgingly was glad for Kageyama's words. The little things that everyone always found off but never truly questioned surfaced

Sugawara, "The passing out?"

Tanaka, "I knew it was weird you didn't eat as much as us even though you ran around the most!"

Nishinoya, "So cool!! Can you turn into a bat?!"

Daichi, "Wait, are you...?"

He'd shaken his head, "No." He paused. They may as well tell them about their plans too, "Not yet."

That was how they shared their biggest secret. And also when they were made to promise not to disappear again

Sugawara had smacked their backs, "Our first years are so high maintenance! I can't believe you made us come all the way out here!"

Taukishima had just sighed, "We haven't been in school for years."

Sugawara was quick to reply, "And yet you two still act like kids, especially with this little stunt!"

Azumane had been kinder. He'd grabbed Hinata by the shoulder, a soft smile on his lips, "We understand why you did it but...we're a team, right? Together we can fly even higher. Always."

Hinata had cried big ugly tears, "Always!"

---

It was the first time Hinata had broken his rule about returning to a place before it was safe and he's glad the reason is this little town where he's gained so much. Perhaps he'll find himself living here a third time (another rule broken) in the distant future, Tsukishima at his side

But for now, they sneak into town in order to meet up with their friends, practically family, without anyone's notice.

"Finally, there it is," Tsukishima sighs

It was a perfect little home with a big backyard, nearly merging with the woods behind it if it weren't for the fencing around the house. There also weren't many neighbors, which was ideal for the occasion. They came in through the back, the door left unlocked just for them

There's a woman on the porch, her silver hair cropped, and her tiny feet dangling in the air, sandals right under just in case she needs them. She has a baby on her lap, a pacifier keeping them occupied, while another child, this one a toddler, runs around with a volleyball in hand. He seems to be blubbering about something Hinata can't make out. He feels his eyes prickle and he grins wide

"Yachi!!" he waves at her while pulling Tsukishima along.

Yachi turns around, only just noticing them. She rearranges the baby so they are sitting up, "Hinata!! Tsukishima!!" She turns into the house, "Tadashi, they're here!"

There is some shuffling indoors and then a freckled man appears, his back slightly angled, "Tsukki?!"

From there, an outpour of people comes. Tsukishima mutters an I can't believe the King is still alive, I thought he'd keel over first, and Hinata can't help the bellow that leaves his body

And Kageyama, such a force on their team, is still loud and awkward and unwavering. And he needs a cane because of an injury

Sugawara had laughed when he'd told them the news a few months back, "He still acts like a kid, his body can't keep up!"

Azumane is the first to properly greet them, "You two really haven't changed."

Nishinoya is on his heels, still bright and energetic. His hair is shorter and speckled with gray, and just as wild as his high school days, "Of course they haven't, you know why!"

Azumane laughs, "Not because of that."

Yachi asks Hinata if he wants to hold the baby, her grandchild from her youngest daughter, now 23 and conveniently not home. Hinata nods enthusiastically and he's instantly charmed by the gurgles and kicking and the honey-brown eyes he's sure they've inherited from Yachi (Yachi blushes, but nods, "Yup! My daughter and her husband both have dark eyes so all mine!).

As he's holding the child, he realizes this is the first time he's been this happy, not about leaving, he will always hate leaving, but at how things turned out

He watches Tsukishima carry the other child, who hadn't stopped staring at him because "Ta'! Me, up, up!"

Daichi and Tanaka aren't there yet, both of them running late (Sugawara tells them Daichi went to pick up Kiyoko and Tanaka from her family home where she'd been visiting her parents' graves. He'd laughed at Hinata's worried look, Don't worry. None of them are actually driving.) - but everyone else is sitting outside in the shade of the porch, recounting the latest gossip. Their laughing is loud and Hinata thinks that his family has also not changed at all

He looks over at Tsukishima, who now has a slightly disgusted look on his face as he lets the child climb on his shoulders, his dirty hands pulling at his blonde hair

Hinata smiles.

Together they really have flown to the top

It's perfect.

---

A/N:

i was conflicted about tenses and character names #rip (ah well)

i hope you guys enjoyed! this is sort of the “good ending” of this used to be oneshot i wrote for the seasons of anime exchange, but like i mentioned in that posts notes, i kind of wanted to continue but didn’t know if i should do the good or bad ending xD maybe if there’s a hq angst week i can post the bad ending :”) but for now, i think this will be it?! who knows

Prompts for day 1: - Reunion - Found family - "We can fly even higher!"

#tsukkihina #I write ff #fanfiction #haikyuu #future fic #modern day au #vampire au #established relationship #haikyuu fluff week 2021 #hqfluffweek2021

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solitvdcs · 3 years

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* sofia carson, cis female + she/her | you know raquel morales, right? they’re twenty-five, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, most of her life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to go your own way by fleetwood mac like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole leather jacket and stiletto boots, red painted lips, alphabetized record collection thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is september 20, so they’re a virgo, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

trigger warning: death, drugs, alcohol

basic info

full name: raquel morales giraldo

birth date: september 20, 1995

pronouns: she/her

hometown: irving, north carolina

sexuality: bisexual

height: 5′5″

eye color: hazel

hair color: dark brown

build: slim

tattoos: the letters “crel” along the inside of her middle finger (the initials of each morales sister, including herself), an eighth note behind her ear, blooming flowers going up her left thigh

piercings: many, many ear piercings, formerly pierced nose but the hole has closed up

style: if you see her around and she’s not wearing a leather jacket, that’s not her

favorite color: black

favorite food: torta negra

zodiac: virgo sun, leo moon, scorpio rising

mbti: istj

hogwarts house: slytherin

enneagram: type 3 wing 4

temperament: choleric-melancholy

alignment: true neutral

rocky was born the second oldest out of four sisters, though her younger sisters weren’t that much younger. one of a set of identical triplets, rocky always felt herself taking on the “big sister” role when it came to ellie and lisa, even if they were only a couple hours younger than her. their oldest sister, cassidy, was already ten when the triplets were born, so by the time they were able to remember, cassidy was already off living her own life. there was a distinct separation between the triplets and cassidy, but the triplets were so close knit that none of them really minded.

each triplet seemed to be a prodigy in their own way. ellie moved her way through the ranks of her ballet company faster than any other kid in the studio’s history, lisa could charm just about anyone and was a natural actress, and rocky gravitated towards music. she could pick up just about any instrument and play it, and music became her escape. she shared a face and so much else with two other girls, but music was the thing that was solely hers. but, being the most logical out of the three, she saw music as more of a hobby than a career. when the time came for university, she planned on majoring in business. but - as a nod to her true passion - her concentration was on the music industry.

during undergrad, she met her boys. the four were music majors with different concentrations who’d decided to form a band, but unfortunately were short a guitarist. they held auditions, rocky showed up on a whim, and was promptly welcomed into the band. it was odd, at first, being the only girl when she’d grown up in a household of mainly girls, but she acclimated quickly. it was the first time she’d felt at home since she’d left her sisters back in irving. they became popular on and around campus, and eventually a few other local universities started booking them. after graduation, they got a record deal - rocky led the negotiations, of course - and after that, syndicate took off.

syndicate’s fanbase consisted of people mostly interested in her bandmates, and it didn’t bother her until the fans started targeting her on social media. there were rumors going around that she and the lead singer were “more than friends” (which at the time was not true), and his most extreme fangirls bullied her until she had no choice but to delete her social media accounts. after that she focused on the music and nothing else, until one night at an afterparty, the lead singer made a move. sure, they’d had a weird, jealous flirtationship for most of the time they’d known each other, but nothing had ever happened. they started dating in secret, nobody knowing except the other guys in the band. after a while, rocky reactivated her social media accounts, and hoped the lead singer would have her back now that they were actually together.

long story short, he didn’t.

DRUGS, ALCOHOL, DEATH TW. they started fighting. a lot. and the more they fought, the harder rocky partied. she fell deep into the underground music party scene and started mixing progressively harder drugs with alcohol, until one day she overdosed. she wasn’t supposed to survive, but someone was looking out for her that night. she found out too late that her youngest sister, lisa, had died that same night. she flew home just for the funeral before discreetly checking herself into rehab, though nothing could fix the fact that one whole third of herself was now missing.

after rehab, she made the decision to leave not only syndicate, but the music industry altogether. music had become a gateway drug instead of an escape, and she couldn’t let all of her hard work in rehab go to waste, not to mention it felt like a slap to the face to her dead sister. instead she enrolled in grad school back home, and ultimately syndicate broke up without her. nobody outside of the band and her family know about her rehab stint, nor do they realize that she was the instigator behind the band’s breakup. she carries the guilt around with her still, though.

added bc i c/ped the intro from when i played her before: rocky dated isaac hensely in high school for a couple years, and she started thinking that maybe he was it for her. she’d planned on going to the same school as him instead of her dream school, and when she told him, he broke up with her (right before prom, too). she wasn’t going to go after that, but ellie and lisa convinced her to. she stayed until she saw isaac there with another girl, and promptly left. she didn’t even stay for long enough to see him and his date crowned prom king and queen.

wanted connections (yes these are also c/ped from when i played her before lol)

anybody wanna apply to be one of the band members????

someone who went to rehab with her and knows

a confidant for when she doesn’t have her sisters to talk to

friends i guess??

flirty frenemies?????? that’s clearly her type lol

a fwb thing that’s not serious but just when they both need to blow off some steam

someone who tempts her back into music (slowburn lol)

i am so bad at wanted connections i’m so sorry

#irvingintro #death tw #drugs tw #alchohol tw #jst realized i haven't been actually tagging the triggers in my intros i'm so sry 🥺

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