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syrikif · 8 months

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Gamer Etiquette

Kodzuken x Streamer!Y/N

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader

Genre: SMAU, Written Elements, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Streamer/Youtuber AU

Upcoming content creator/streamer, Y/N, has gone viral for lots of things. Her infamous dumb moments, her blended cookie recipe (which tastes better than it sounds), the way she rages at her friends during games, and about a hundred more.

But her most recent viral moment? Accidentally knocking famous streamer, Kodzuken, off the Bedwars map and making him lose his two year winning streak.

Now with more attention (and hate) than she ever asked for, her only option left is to go to the source: the man himself, Kenma Kozume.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Chapter 2 (a): Bedwars

Word Count: 2171

“Hey guys,” you smile at your webcam, “How’s everyone’s night been so far?” You adjust to get just a bit more comfortable, wrapping your favorite blanket around your legs as you observe their responses in chat.

“Oh my god you had sushi for dinner? That sounds so good.” You lean forward to get a closer look, “Awe thank you. I tried so hard to do my makeup today,” you inform everyone when you see a compliment fly past. “It took me like four business days to finish my eyeliner,” you roll your eyes at the memory.

You start humming softly as you read through chat, prompting everyone to start spamming for music and making you smile. “Okay okay, I get it guys I’ll put some music on.”

You pull open Spotify, selecting one of your favorite non-copyrighted playlists, “Is that loud enough? Oh- too loud?” You turn it down by about twenty percent, “Is that better?”

You grin, letting yourself relax against the back of your chair. “I don’t really have a plan for the stream; I just wanted to kind of chat for a little bit, explain why I was in the hospital and stuff.”

YOU WERE IN THE HOSPITAL????

You laugh when you see the message, realizing too late that you’d probably just dropped a bomb on everyone who doesn’t follow you on any of your other social media. “Oh yeah, sorry guys.” You suddenly snort, “Did someone just say I was in hospice for being dumb?”

You shake your head subconsciously, “Even funnier though is that they’re kind of right.”

You reach forward to grab the bottle of water resting on your desk, “Don’t worry it’s not anything serious. Like at all.” You pause to take a brief sip of the iced liquid, cringing at how cold it is when it enters your mouth. “Holy shit,” you shudder, “That was so fucking cold.”

You take a deep breath to regain your composure.

“Anyways, so basically I fell and hit my head yesterday and my friends just wanted to take me to the hospital to make sure I didn’t get a concussion or anything. And then it turned out that I was actually - like - super dehydrated so they wanted to give me an IV drip to get some fluids in me.” You lift your water bottle pointedly, “Hence the new addition to the stream.”

Normally you’d rarely ever have water during a stream, and if you did it was kept in a much smaller bottle. It’s different now though (your roommate made sure of that) since your current water bottle is big enough to cover your entire face if you were to hold it up.

“But now I am a-okay and in perfect condition. Well, mostly anyways.”

You spend some time just singing along to the music and responding to some of the messages you see in chat. You feel yourself relaxing as you talk with everyone, your tense shoulders loosening and your voice growing just a bit louder as you get more comfortable.

You’re always nervous to stream at first, despite having done it hundreds of times by now. You don’t think you’ll ever not be nervous to be completely honest. It was such a surreal experience, to be able to be so closely connected with so many different people from so many different places, that you were terrified of ever losing it.

“Oh my god you guys. So I made some pumpkin muffins with chocolate chips in them the other day and they are literally like the best thing I’ve probably ever baked in my life.”

Better than your blended cookies?

You roll your eyes, “Oh ha ha; you guys act like you’ve tried it. I promise you all that it’s literally ten times better than it sounds. I’ll have to post the recipe at some point because I genuinely think a lot of you would love them.”

I can attest to that ✋

“Sho,” you excitedly exclaim as you see your friend’s username. “You guys know Shoyo right?” You feel your head tilt, watching the varying responses flood your chat box. “Well if you don’t know who he is, he’s literally - like - famous for playing volleyball.”

I love Hinata! I met him once and he was so nice.

You nod rapidly in agreement, “Yes! He’s seriously gotta be the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“Do you want to get on call with me?” You direct the question towards your close friend, subconsciously biting your lip as you await his answer.

Still at practice unfortunately 🙁

You pout, “Oh no.” With a small sigh, “I just don’t know what to do now. You got any suggestions, chat?”

You read as many messages as you can, eyebrows furrowing further the longer you sit there.

“I’m seeing a lot of minecraft; do we wanna play a bit of minecraft?” You hum in thought, swaying in your chair as you consider the idea. “How about Bedwars?”

Chat practically erupts at your words, capitalized letters and emotes flying by so fast that you don’t get any chance to read a single one. “Okay okay,” you laugh, “I get it.”

You set your water bottle back down, adjusting your keyboard to sit properly before grabbing your mouse. “Let’s play some Bedwars I guess.”

~~~

“Fuck you!”

You groan as you release your mouse, throwing your head back in annoyance as you die yet once again.

“How the fuck do I keep on dying? Literally what the fuck!” You chance a glance at your chat, hiding a smile at their reaction to your raging. You’ll admit it, while you are actually frustrated with the game, you’re definitely playing it up just a little bit for your audience.

You don’t wait for the round to end after you die, leaving the game and immediately running to join another one. You’ve been playing in teams of three, hoping that having the extra assistance would help you stay alive longer.

So far it’s proved to be completely futile.

“We’re definitely gonna win this one you guys,” you say just as the round begins. “Me-,” you pause to look at your teammate’s usernames, “PinkyFluff_22 and Kodzuken are going to absolutely demolish everyone else.”

What did she just sayyyyyyy 😳

I’m sorry you and WHO????

No way she’s playing with who I think she’s playing with

One in a million chance lol

Wtf

“What is everyone freaking out about?” You question as you patiently wait to collect some iron and gold, watching one of your teammates begin to cover the bed with a measly defense of red wool. “Kodzuken?”

You buy some wood and Endstone from the villager before purchasing a slightly better sword than the wooden one you were given. “Oh they stream?”

Girl 💀

How do you not know who he is?????

“Bro I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just work here okay.”

You sprint over to the bed, breaking the wool to replace it with the Endstone, layering the wood on top, and then finally placing the wool around it again. “I guess I’ll be bed defense then,” you say as you notice that you’re the only person left on the island.

“Oh shit someone’s coming!” You duck behind the giant cube of wool, watching the name tag get progressively closer to your island. You jump out as soon as you feel like they’re close enough, attacking the unaware oncomer and knocking them off the island within a few easy hits.

“Fuck yeah!” You jump around excitedly, proud of the way your plan was actually successful this time. “See that? I told you I’m not bad!”

You abruptly flinch as your character turns and comes face to face with another player. “Holy shit!” You release a sigh of relief as you realize it’s only your teammate, Kodzuken. “That scared me so bad. Oh my god,” you release your mouse briefly to place your hand on your chest.

While you’re distracted trying to calm your heartbeat, Kodzuken suddenly stops before you. “What is he doing?” But before you even have time to be suspicious he suddenly drops a pile of diamonds and emeralds on the ground.

You blink.

“Huh?” He looks pointedly at the gems then back up at you and back down, lightly tapping the block they’re floating on. “Is he giving them to me?”

You glance over at your chat, your character finally going into motion when you realize they’re all screaming at you to go pick them up. “Jesus, sorry. I got them, see? Look, I’m picking them up right now.”

You collect everything on the ground, crouching and un-crouching multiple times as a way to thank him. “Oh- shit,” you pause as a popup suddenly appears, “Stupid sticky keys!”

By the time you manage to exit out of the window, Kodzuken is nowhere to be found. “Well,” you look at your webcam, “That was unexpected.”

You quickly open game chat to send him a private message as fast as you possibly can.

“Thanks :)”

It’s the best you can do with the little time you have but you hope he appreciates it nonetheless.

“Okay, I’m gonna up our bed defense.” You repeat the earlier process all over again, only this time you add obsidian and make the outer layer made of wood. “Now that’s like literally impenetrable.”

You upgrade your sword to a bow and arrows before purchasing some TNT and fireballs and buying the Miner’s Fatigue trap. “Now the real question is whether I try to attack the bases next to us or not.”

Attackkkkkk

You’re gonna die

Kill them

We believe in you

“I guess it’s decided then,” you quickly shake out your hands. “Okay,” your voice fades as you run across the bridge you could only assume one of your teammate’s made.

You’re extremely quiet as you make your way across, keeping your eyes on the island next to you and turning back every now and then to check on your own. You’re biting your lip as you slowly make your way across the rival team’s bridge, crouching the entire time to hide your name.

You’re roughly twenty blocks away when you take the next step. Still crouching, you aim a fireball at their seemingly wool covered bed. “Yes!” You cheer as it makes its mark, blowing up the wool and revealing wood below it.

You know that you’ve alerted the players at this point (there’s no way you haven’t) so all you can do is run into the fire.

You’re panicking as you place some TNT around the bed, running away and into a player from the enemy team as it explodes. You use your mediocre sword to hit them away from you, mentally sighing as they get hit back enough for you to run away. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” you sprint towards the now revealed blue bed.

“Blue Bed was destroyed by Soft_Paws!”

You squeal out of both fear and excitement, adrenaline racing through you as you’re attacked by two of the blue players at once. You throw a fireball at them, shouting for joy when one of them is successfully knocked off the island.

“Holy shit!”

The next player is harder to kill, your health rapidly deteriorating as you battle with nothing but a stone sword and your adrenaline.

You have one heart left when it finally happens.

“Ecstasy.png was killed by Soft_Paws”

“Yes!” You kick your feet out, jumping up from your chair with your excitement before remembering that you’re still in a game. “Holy fuck I did it. I actually did it, you guys!”

She’s CRACKED

LETS GOOOO

WOOOOO

YEEEEESSSSSS

~~~

Roughly five minutes later, you’re still in the round. Everyone’s bed has been broken at this point but there are still three teams that are yet to be eliminated, yours included.

You’re sort of just hiding at the base, watching the chaos from afar as your one and only teammate left (Kodzuken) goes on a murder spree.

He’s running back to the team’s island when the incident occurs.

All you see is yellow leather armor and a yellow name tag, sprinting on the bridge connecting your base to the emerald island. You don’t even consider the fact that they’re currently being chased down by your teammate, you just aim.

Your aim is exceptionally good, so good in fact that the explosion knocks off both the yellow player and Kodzuken.

You freeze at the realization, your mouth falling open in complete horror as you piece together what you’d just done.

“I did not just do that,” you whisper, mostly to yourself as the events replay in your mind. “Oh my god,” you facepalm - forgetting (once again) that you’re still actually alive and participating in the game - and completely missing the person running towards you on the other bridge.

You hear the sound of something being attacked, echoing through your headphones and making your eyebrows furrow with confusion.

You abruptly gasp, but by then it’s too late.

You’re dead. And your team has lost.

Taglist: @crazy-people-are-here, @existential-traveller, @peachesncats, @royalz658

Any names in bold are unable to be tagged.

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noirandchocolate · 1 year

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So now that the polls are closed on Round 1A, here's some comments on each match that had me on the floor throughout yesterday and this morning:

Match 1, Vimes vs. Mal

First of all PLEASE read this story of how @thestuffedalligator imagined the fight would go, it's GREAT.

Maladict would win the fight. Vimes would make sure of it.

--@thisblogisboundforglory-blog

Vimes is meaner. Maladict's a sweetie but also a poseur.

--@ellynneversweet

Match 2, Moist vs. Whiteface

See I love Moist he's my boy. But I don't think he'd actually win in a Fight. I think he'd find some way to get out of it rather than actually fighting in it. Meanwhile that clown is absolutely out to kill.

--@omicheese

Ok this one's decently close. But Mr. Slightly Damp could run circles around him. Clown on clown violence. But frankly Mr. Mildly Wet is the Stronger Clown. Not physically but in Clown Logic. Listen it's borderline toon logic. The winner the one for whom it would be Objectively Funnier for them to win.

--@nonbinaryspacegoo

Moist does some of his best work when he's trying to avoid something. IE participating in this fight. he's also self aware of the whole can't con a con-artist/can't cheat a cheater way of the world, and knows how to work that to his advantage. I have limited knowledge of the doc but even if he's capable of the same thought process, I think Moist would be more successful just because he'd put on a better show of being a sad pathetic wet meow meow boy. In order to make an opportunity to pull a trick. On account of being a poor wet little meow meow boy.

--@violetren

Match 3, Cohen vs. Reg

Reg I am so sorry. But you are dead and he doesn't want to be.

--@coredesignixandnekonee

This one is contrary to what most people would think, I think, but like, Reg Shoe was so determined in his goals in life that he came back as a zombie. So. I think if he were determined enough to beat Cohen, even though Cohen is nigh unbeatable, he would do it. Even if that's just simply by outliving Cohen or something ridiculous, as long as he has the conviction, he'd do it.

--@theeldritchbat

Trick question. Neither would win, they'll keep a back and forth of avoiding death for ever. Creating the first ever perpetual motion machine.

--@fefeman

Match 4, Mrs. Gogol vs. Rob Anybody

THIS ONE IS TOUGH. Because I think Rob would be very conflicted about fighting any hag, they'll curse you so hard you know. In the end I did vote Rob though, either because he'd avoid any curses by stepping in and out of reality, or just by annoying the shit out of Gogol enough to where she's like "Yknow what?? FINE. YOU WIN. LEAVE."

--@purpledemoncat

ppl saying Rob would win smh. listen love the guy. maybe in a straight fistfight with no other factors at play but like. They're freaked by witches my guy. She could use even her easiest headology and he's OUT.

--@nonbinaryspacegoo

Match 5, Detritus vs. the Dean

I mean...yes, the Dean is a wizard, he's got magic...but he's *the Dean*. Historically, not known for making good choices. I think Detritus could handle him.

--@theeldritchbat

Detritus may have his weaponry much closer to hand (and much more weaponizable hands), but the Dean fought his way to the upper echelons of UU and gets *distressingly* into mock-fighting (see: the Paintball Incident). I know that this fight is supposed to start friendly, but the Dean is going to escalate faster than Detritus, who is well aware that everyone who isn't him tends to squish.

--@the-damn-things-overlap

The Dean would take a bit picking the right spell and preparing it. So my first instinct is Detritus. But then again the Dean only got where he is and stayed there by being good at not getting got and being able to get others. However on second thought he is used to working against other flimsy old white men. So yeah no still Detritus.

--@violetren

Match 6, Granny vs. Susan

Their fight would consist of a staring contest and you can't change my mind. Susan would last a good long time but blink eventually because she has young, plump eyeballs. Granny will not blink, because she has fallen asleep with them open. Granny don't give a fuck.

--@purpledemoncat

Look Granny Weatherwax would probably win in like 98% of situations. But this particular situation feels like it'd be similar to taking her to the theatre and she'd just be vaguely annoyed and unsure what was going on. And Susan would find the whole situation inconvenient and stupid but would understand the assignment. So she'd just steamroll through just so it would be over. And if she did it quickly enough I think she'd get a technical win over Granny. However she would then have an unhappy and clued in Granny on her hands at the end of it. So like then she'd be in trouble. Anyways I voted Susan because sometimes it's fun to go for the perceived underdog. Honestly believe that who would win would be purely situational because they are both stone cold badasses.

--@violetren

Match 7, Nutt vs. Harry King

I didn't know where to go with this one. I feel like Harry King Makes Shit Happen (no joke intended) and Nutt needs a solid reason to make shit happen. Nutt might accidentally win, but Harry King would win on purpose.

--@theeldritchbat

Ok in a real fight Nutt would win. But in a play fight he'd be too nice to not lose you see.

--@handern

Match 8, Magrat vs. the Librarian

Both are capable of speakable violence (casual willingness to use Goodie Whemper(maysherestinpeace)'s Turn Your Bones Into Hot Lead spell vs get twisted apart) but I have a hard time imagining the Librarian convincing his opponent that he has agreed to nonviolence. The Librarian probably proposes some sort of game since he understands he isn't meant to do any twisting. But then you are in a Chess with Chewbacca scenario. You had better be too foolish to see why winning would be bad or have nerves of steel and ice in your veins. I say foolish but really I mean foolish and talented or foolish and lucky. You do still have to win after all. But the Librarian won't twist you apart if you beat him. The only trouble is convincing yourself of that. I don't think Magrat is built right for this challenge.

--@theensorceler-blog

I'm in two minds about this one. Either the Librarian would win outright bcause Magrat can't get mad enough to use her strengths, or he would win by simply not being present for the fight (per the rules, running away successfully constitutes a win, and I don't think Magrat can outrun an orangutan). Someone would say, "hey, you gotta fight this witch -indicates Magrat-, my...ape", and he'd say, "ook," and then shuffle off to eat bananas and read under his desk because who the fuck has time to fight witches when there are bananas and books, right?

--@theeldritchbat

And that's how this has to go. The Librarian has to win because it's funnier if Magrat gets her ass kicked by an orangutan. Like I love her but it would be so funny.

--@omicheese

Keep it up everybody, this is super fun so far! =D

#discworld fight club 2023 #discworld fight club round 1a

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evelhak · 3 months

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23, 38, 73, 90 ?

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Hmm. It's hard to say where the line for a celebrity goes. I'm an author so I've met other authors and since my country is small, the big names and the small ones mingle in a lot of places, so I have met some big names.

Other than that, I am comically unaware of celebrities. The chances that I wouldn't realise I was talking to one, are pretty good, because I don't watch much TV or follow popular culture outside of my quite niche interests. It's even funnier because my mom is a real celebrity magnet, and especially my grandmother. She was close friends and neighbours with arguably the most famous pop/rock star in Finland, but I never met the guy.

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

Two days and two nights, I think? I'm a night owl but also my body pretty much just shuts down by itself after I've stayed up too long, and needs a lot of sleep, so I won't be breaking any magnificent staying up records.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Depends entirely whether the consequences of correcting them or not correcting them are the more favourable ones. If I see someone being an asshole, I will pretty much always interfere. As well as if I see people miscommunicating, I will step in to rephrase what they're saying to help them understand each other. But other than that, things are more complicated.

For example, if someone uses a word, out of ignorance, that is offensive to a group of people, I will explain to them why it's offensive, and why it shouldn't be used, because I can see them using it again in the future. If someone I'm having an argument with makes a factual mistake that doesn't directly relate to the outcome of the argument, I won't correct them, because it would distract them from the point of the conversation, and possibly make them more defensive. If I scroll by a post on Tumblr that is spreading misinformation about a topic I'm informed in, I will comment about it unless it's inconsequential as far as my imagination reaches. If it's more of an impression thing, grey-area or a matter of perspective, even though it seems wrong from my perspective, I will generally not comment on it, unless the post is directed at me somehow, in which case I will offer my perspective as contrast.

I have taught ballet, which is highly technical and has an exact right way of doing things a lot of the time, so I have spent a lot of time thinking about which mistakes make sense to correct at any given time, and which ones can wait, when considering the entire package of a person, their goals and well-being, and their impact on a group. From that I can pretty much draw to any situation that involves correcting others. I generally try to be as holistic in my interactions with people as possible, so I think about correcting mistakes the same way, it's not about what I get out of it, it's about what they, and people as a whole could get out of it. If the only beneficiary from correcting a mistake would be my ego, then I don't correct it. I try to consider one interaction's impact on a bigger scale. Not that I'm always able to, or wise about it, or judge the consequences correctly, but I try.

That being said, if you're one of my very closest friends and I have known you for a long time, I will freely correct any of your technical and factual mistakes, down to your spelling mistakes, depending on my mood, if I know you can take it. But that's reserved for my innermost circle.

Okay, this is clearly something I think about a lot...

90. What makes you angry?

Eh. I don't want to overwhelm you with detail, because I'm sure I could go on longer than the previous question. so I'm just going to say cruelty, unfairness, and generally anything that comes from malice, or lack of respect or regard for other people's well-being. I have a pretty low tolerance for people being mean and putting each other down. Unwillingness to consider other people's perspectives and acting like your opinions are objective facts is a pretty sure way to get me angry, too. The bigger someone's ego is, the sooner I will probably clash with them. On the pettier side, I get easily irritated if someone assumes I don't know something that is pretty basic knowledge, or I otherwise perceive them to imply I'm dumb/not knowledge or I get the feeling that they think they are smarter than me without actually knowing anything about me.

Thanks, I hope that was at least a little bit interesting. :)

#ask game

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tinydancer1127 · 1 year

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Why DO they call it oven?

One thing about me is I think this is one of the funniest sentences in existence, if you can even call it that. Another thing about me is that I think that sometimes, explaining why something is funny, getting into all the details on what makes a joke or comment or meme funny, makes it infinitely funnier. So, here I am, attempting to put some linguistic explanation as to why this awful, awful sentence is funny.

Okay, so breaking it down, we first have the opener of the joke, “Why do they call it oven…” which isn’t all that funny on its own, because we all know this as the framing of a joke. Of course, we know it’s going to be a joke because we’re used to this type of opener, and we might be clued into it being something to do with wordplay because of the form as well. But at this point, it’s not funny yet, it’s just the setup.

Never fear, though, because things are about to change, and this is about to get real confusing. The next part of the joke just hits us in the face with “when you of in the cold food…” and we just sit there in confusion for a second. Of…in…the cold food? Okay… And here’s where some linguistics comes in. So obviously, there’s some wordplay involved, because “oven,” and “of in” sound similar when spoken. But that’s not what I want to talk about here, no, that’s too obvious. I want to talk about how, in using “of” as a verb, we almost get a garden-path effect in this sentence, which makes it that much harder for us to decipher.

A garden-path sentence is a sentence that, as we hear or read it, seems to lead us on one “path,” but then abruptly changes that “path,” usually with a verb, and it makes it hard for us to, at least initially, read in a way that makes sense. Something like “the horse raced past the barn fell,” meaning “the horse that was raced past the barn, fell.” Kind of weird, but makes sense on a second or third read, right? So, this whole idea with garden-path sentences being hard to read and making us do linguistic double take became a sort of basis for the garden path theory, which suggests that our brains try to be really efficient in processing sentences, and will go with the easiest or most simple conclusion right away, and will only reassess if needed. This would explain the garden-path effect; efficiency over accuracy.

But! This would make all sentences with structures that aren’t super simple equally likely to have a garden-path effect, and that’s just not true. Take for example, “The glasses placed on the table were left overnight.” We don’t have the same, “Huh?” response that we might have to the earlier sentence with the horse. Enter: the constraint-based approach.

The constraint-based approach basically says that we can hold multiple structures in our head at a time, and we evaluate them all simultaneously, and judge which one is most likely to be correct. The explanation for garden path sentences, then, would be that they’re just unfortunate. We would almost never assume that a horse is being raced without context, so why would someone choose their words that way, especially without some filler words to clarify?

That brings me back to “when you of in the cold food.” “Of in.” Double take there, because similar to “raced” being used in a relative clause instead of as a main verb, “of in,” is being used as a main verb, when it shouldn’t even be a verb phrase. “Of” is a preposition, and “of in” hardly makes sense anyway. But, okay, sure, for the sake of this joke (which at this point is already funny), we’ll go ahead and believe in the verbness of “of in,” and say that in an oven, we are “ofing in” the cold food.

Then comes the final part, which I can hardly call a punchline, but definitely adds to the comedy. “...of out hot eat the food?” There are so many things wrong here.

“Of out.” Okay, we’ve established that “of in” is a verb phrase, so this works and is funny in a wordplay sort of way, we’re “ofing out,” something, the opposite of “ofing in,” which sounds like “oven.” But then we get the word “hot,” which is just in the wrong place. It’s an adjective, smashed between our pseudo-verb phrase “of out” and the real verb “eat.” So that catches us off guard, but we’re starting to put together the meaning of the joke: the hot food is coming out of the oven, and we are going to eat it. But it’s a syntactic mess, and once again we aren’t getting what the sentence means, because there’s not a comma or conjunction separating the first part of the sentence from the second, and there are two seemingly “main verbs” in the second part (“of out” and “eat”). We’re reading this sentence and trying to parse it, but it keeps throwing us for loops, and even though we are kind of getting a meaning, we’re still confused.

And linguistically, that’s the thing with the constraint-based approach and this sentence. This whole time, we have a few ideas running through our heads about what exactly this sentence is trying to do, and what kind of joke it is. It’s wordplay, so we’re looking for a pun, but we also find a weird verb thing, so we’re finding that punchline, and at some point we also realize that this delves into random equals funny humor. And on top of that, if you’re seeing this written down, it’s probably in this Garfield comic, which given Garfield’s place in meme culture and the other visual elements in this picture, just adds to the confusion.

So essentially, we’re utterly confused by this sentence, because we pretty much know what it’s trying to tell us: you put cold food into an oven and take out hot food and eat it, which is funny because the word “oven” sounds like “of in,” which notably has something that sounds like the word “in” in it, but the entire sentence looks like it was “ofed out” too soon. And in the end, all we’re left to do is wonder, “yo why Jon thick as hell?”

#linguistics #language #garfield #why is this funny #explaining why things are funny makes them funnier #garden path sentences

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chemicalarospec · 1 year

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archiveofourown works 27954677 (fic about light and 9/11)

Nooo wayyyyyyy! I HAVE to read this.

Okay I'm back, it was good! 2012 vibes came through with the "oniichan"s lol. (Actually, not sure why I felt this. It is. Japanese. For some reason I just don't think people would type that today.) (I don't think the author is Japanese? Just didn't give the vibes of writing from within the POV, idk, there were some details on Japanese crimes but I wasn't sentient at the time so I don't know if they were international news. Well-researched though if not Japanese; I even checked the school year and I think it works (sorry I'm a freak I'm a weirdo I like researching things!!).)

And Light would totally try to predict the effects of 9/11 haha. I tend to think of Pre-Death Note Light as inbetween the popular fanon do not say neutered do not say neutered de-clawed, dare I say woobified version, and the No Regard for Human Life Death Note Light, but this always-pitiless Light was cool and interesting! I like how this interpretation had him always fundamentally the same callous person but still had 9/11 effect his motivation and ideology. This is a certified "America deserved 9/11" moment (this clip is funnier if you know he originally said, "yeah, I said that" and then that it wasn't fully serious). (Light Yagami would be fixed if you taught him socialist theory. I think it could be done.) I was born after 9/11, so I can't actually say much to it lol. The author definitely remembers it (posted 2012, says it was previously posted but since they have other backdated works, I think it might actually be from 2012), but the fic really is an exploration of how Light Yagami would have reacted -- doesn't seem like much of the author's own sentiments leak in--, which I admire since that's something I struggle with in my own writing.

I wasn't sure why there was a section with Near at the end (the titular symmetry? I didn't know in what way) until the last line, to which I went, "Oh, yeah." The AN also says it wasn't well received when it was first posted, and I can see why, but (speaking as someone who was not alive for 9/11 and 22 rather than 11 years after the event) I don't find it objectionable (re: "This is a certified 'America...'") . I'll admit though, the construction of the parallels isn't in the best taste, depending on how you take it -- I think the symmetry is meant for the towers themselves and the symmetry of the conviction of justice (same as in the manga/show Light/L), but the metatextual comparison of Light Yagami, fictional man, to the real 9/11 terrorists kinda might be in poor taste. This is discourse. I'm not a Discourse Master. I am making zero claims on this matter, just perspectives that others may take.

I left kudos twice because I forgot I wasn't signed in on this computer haha.

If anyone's curious, I searched up "9/11 Japanese" after making the post and apparently there were a few Japanese banks with some employees in the World Trade Center who died, and a young man on one of the planes.

I've been thinking about making a post about how remembering it was written in 2004 is necessary to understand some parts of Death Note, and I can't believe I didn't think about including 9/11 there seriously until now, but obviously, yes, of course it influenced the narrative not just in a-possible-joke-to-make way.

Wow, this is like my Goodreads reviews at this point lol. Since this was technically an ask, I wrote all my thoughts, but it was more than I expected. Sorry, is probably be awkward if you are the author!

#i looked up when. bin ladin was killed. and it might be pre 2011 btw ^_^ that line definitely gives 'not long after 9/11' vibes because #there never was any more terrorism #I wonder if anon searched this up after seeing my post or was one of the 216 previous hits (or previous post?) and just knew #or perhaps... the author?#death note #asks #anon #fanfiction #ok i swear i tagged 'fanfic' tumblr stop lying to me!!#light yagami #I said this #9/11 #<- it's not even a tag in my archive smh fake fan #<- SO sorry I thought that and then I HAD to say that. I am not a fan of 9/11. Lord.#none of this is genuine because i lost the fking post and had to retype it all btw :(#helppp meee I feel like a dudebro I keep thinking the word 'neutered' for when something is depowered

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3

Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol

A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))

Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader

Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs.

“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.”

I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.”

Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch.

“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually.

I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.”

He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.”

Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--”

“You know he hated it.”

I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better.

So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.

Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?”

I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk.

“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.”

“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.”

He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.”

He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it.

Maybe I do need a drink.

I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less.

“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced.

He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.”

I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--”

“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again.

“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.”

“We can’t even see Inej.”

Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.”

“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.”

His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.”

It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy.

“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?”

Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.

“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.”

He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.

“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply.

“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.”

The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.”

“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.”

I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”

Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.

“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.”

The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.

I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.”

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.”

She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.”

“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.”

My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.

“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones.

I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.”

She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.”

Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.

I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.

When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand.

My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him.

I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay.

I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him.

The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem.

I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…

The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here.

Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.”

“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.”

Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”

“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive.

I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.”

At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”

Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.”

“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.”

Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.”

He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.”

“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--”

“Who what?” Finally--progress.

Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way.

He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.”

“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.”

What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.”

“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.”

The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs.

“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.”

Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.”

I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.”

Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I frown freely, “Kaz--”

“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“For the job?”

Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.

The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--”

“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel.

Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door.

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #six of crows imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone show #my works #shadow and bone netflix #six of crows fic #soc imagine #soc fic #sab fic #kaz brekker imagine #grishaverse #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader

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admiringlove · 3 years

Text

IX: aparecium; an incantation to always remember.

— you finally read all the other pages of his diary.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 2.9k.

+warnings: FLUFF!! pls, if i don’t put fluff, some of my moots would cry(*cough* ray).

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des @akaashi-todorki @sakuric @irishhbamb @sweetsamus @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: this is the last chapter(im def not sad) BUT i will be writing bonus parts!!

+navigation: previous, masterlist,.

You stand in front of your apartment, sighing as you close your eyes, making your way inside your bedroom and begin to pick up the cardboard boxes with the help of your wand, moving them outside into the living room for someone(who is quite late, yet again) to take to your new home.

You tie your hair up, fixing your overcoat a little as you sigh, making your way to the smallest box, placed in the corner of the room. Just by looking at the stamp on top of it, you smile.

The memories of your time at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

You carefully sit on your knees, your plaid skirt riding up just a smidge, as you open the carton in front of you.

To say that it was filled up completely was an understatement because right now, a few books and photographs fell out onto your lap, making you chuckle. You picked up the photographs, settling with your back against the wall and your legs stretching out, as you looked through them one by one.

The first one—one of your graduation ceremony, standing next to Shimizu Kiyoko(the current owner of the most popular Quidditch shop in London) who was beaming vividly at the camera with you, holding up your wands as a gesture that you had finally done it. Something that seemed almost insurmountable when you first started school, and now? You all were content, happy with your lives.

The second photograph was one from the third year, your first time in Hogsmeade. You were in The Three Broomsticks, and a mustache of the froth from the butterbeer had formed atop your lips. Behind you, a certain fox pointed and laughed his guts out.

The next picture was from the Shrieking Shack—where all of your friends had ditched the second last day of school and spent the whole day drinking and reminiscing the past seven years of nostalgic happiness. A boy held your hand with the fondest look in his carob orbs, and you returned it.

You gingerly took the three photos, storing them in the photo album that had also fallen out of the box in the process of you opening it. Smiling, you took out some more mementos.

Your broomstick, the Nimbus 2001, sat at the bottom, but you excitedly removed it and placed it on the ground, saying, "Up!"

It almost made it to your hand but fell down upon grazing your fingertips. You pouted, blaming the number of years it had passed since you had played Quidditch. Peering into the box as you placed the broomstick aside, you found something even funnier.

Cheap, piss colored hair-dye that was almost ten-years-old.

You chuckled, looking at it playfully as you opened the top of the bottle. The disgusting odor that came from it made you grunt as you immediately placed the cap back on top, never desiring to touch that thing ever again. And once more, you placed the item in your hand to the side, looking into the box to find more things that reminded you of your happiest years.

You couldn't believe your eyes at what sat at the bottom of the carton.

An empty notebook with a soft leather cover, with a grey quill by its side, sitting there and ridiculing you.

You blinked twice, making sure what you were seeing was real. Hell, you even rubbed your eyes until you could see mindless patterns in the dark. You opened your eyes, the patterns making themselves sort of visible in plain sight, disappearing after a few milliseconds when you grabbed the brown book in front of you and whispered with your wand in hand, "Aparecium."

September 2, 20**.

I don’t know what I’m doing at this point. It’s been 3 years since I started loving her. When I saw her walk into the train today, umm, yesterday cause it’s past 2 AM now… I felt so happy?? I mean, I know I tease her and all, she’s quite amazing. She’s got the brains for it all and insults me back even when I say something stupid. I really dunno. 3 years and I’ve made 0 progress. I seriously need to re-think my decision about my love for this girl 'cause 'Samu says there’s no chance she loves me back. Dunno if I’ll be able to stop my feelings, though. I’ve liked her since my second year. Damn me, for being such a lovesick puppy. And to think I colored my hair for her too. [Y/N] called it piss-colored. Out of all things, why the fuck would ya compare somebody’s hair to piss? That’s utterly disgusting. I wonder where [L/N] gets these dumb ideas. Damn her, that slug. Anyways, I have class in a couple hours. G'night.

'Tsumu.

You immediately let out a hearty laugh, flipping to the next page when you remembered a certain encounter with the boy who wrote the diary. The day he told you he loved you, by the infamous Black Lake, he spoke of this particular page. He said that he addressed the nightly trips around Hogwarts, about how much he longs to be yours, about his happiness when he sees you, and your snarky comments that are just as, if not more, witty than his.

September 4, 20**

Today was the third day of school. Also my first trip around Hogwarts with [Y/N] under my invisibility cloak. We snuck into the kitchens and got ourselves steak pies and treacle tarts, and then went to the Astronomy Tower where we ate them while laughing about nothing in particular. I love these little trips. They make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Dunno how to put it into words, but I really like spending time with her alone. It makes me really really really happy. I wish that someday, maybe when I'm all grown up and play for a known Quidditch Team and she's a DADA professor, we are still like this. Going around to aimless places, eating food, and laughing about the old times(or anything really, I just want to be with her even when I'm older). And just like always, she doesn't fail to throw dumb comebacks at me. I can't help but chuckle at them, because sometimes they really are offensive. Well, looks like it's time to hit the hay now, so g'night.

'Tsumu.

You gasp as the page comes to an end, a hand on your mouth. He wasn't wrong when he said he wrote about you. You smile as a tear runs down your cheek as you flip to a random page this time, and you realize that it's written in his sixth year of Hogwarts.

December 23, 20**

I stayed back for Christmas break this year and my dorm is all empty. So is hers, because she says she didn't want to go back home at all until the summer. I feel bad for her gran, that woman must feel lonely.

You giggled at the line, grinning because you remember your grandma sending you a Howler, which yelled at you in the empty dorm-room for not coming home for the holidays. She said she missed you, and that your grandfather's health was deteriorating. She had also said that she knew why you didn't come back, and that it was okay, because she understood that you couldn't see another loved one go. The Howler ended on a sorrowful note, but everything eased back into its place because you remember the writer of the diary in your hands being there to comfort you when a dreaded letter came in after the holidays. You continued reading where you left off, wiping away the new wave of tears that had emerged from the memories.

Yesterday, me and [Y/N] went around the castle under the invisibility cloak I gave her. It was fun because I always get to see this little smile on her face that only shows up during these trips. We also went to the forbidden section of the library just because we wanted to look at a few spells that are probably illegal. I did accidentally kill a rat practicing the second unforgivable curse, and [Y/N] helped me hide all the evidence by feeding the dead rat to the Hippogriff she had found in the Forbidden Forest. I swear, if someone saw the way I did the spell and couldn't stop until [Y/N] threw Expelliarmus at me, they would throw me in the deepest pin in Azkaban and I'd probably never be able to see [Y/N] again. Anyway, I have to go back out for dinner now. G'night.

'Tsumu.

You, again, laughed at the man's childishness. You recollect distinctly how scared he was, that he had almost pissed his pants in the Courtyard that night. You had assured him that nothing would go wrong and that your lips were completely sealed, because he was your friend of course, so you had quickly formulated a plan to help him. And yet again, you flip to a new page, one from the fifth year this time.

July 15, 20**

I hate this part every year. Ever since my third year, it sickens me to come back home for summer. I can't see her because she lives in Lambeth while I'm in Westminster with my posh family. It makes me a little angry sometimes that my family is well-known in the wizarding world because this means my summers are filled with whatever my parents want me to do. The train ride back home was definitely not quiet. It was so chaotic(mostly because of the constant bickering between me and [Y/N]) and Kita-san yelled at us at the end. That was the first time I've ever seen him get angry, so he was either really fed up or we were being too dumb. Anyway, I'm gonna miss Hogwarts a lot for the next month or so, because after that I get to see her again. Honestly? Can't wait for the sixth year. I hope she grows taller, because right now, she's quite the midget. I'll write her a letter or two, but I probably won't send all of them. G'night for now.

'Tsumu.

You continue reading it all. Page by page, parchment by parchment, word by word, letter by letter until you finally get to the last page. The one he wrote on the graduation day, where he says that he wants to marry you someday. But you don't get to read it just yet, because he walks into the room with his booming voice and boyish grin.

"[Y/N]! Sorry I'm late, sweetheart! I apparated back home as fast as I could 'cause Coach saw me slack off a lil-"

"So ya actually read it all, huh?" he smirks, walking up to you and crouching down next to you, "Ah, the last page, have ya read it yet?"

"Not the last one," you smile, "—if only I'd read these sooner, we wouldn't have gone through all that mindless drama in seventh year, right?"

"Eh, 'twas kinda worth it in the end," he shrugs, sitting down next to you and placing his thumb on your chin, "Love, you've been crying?"

You shook your head lightly, letting out a small chuckle which to him sounded like the sweetest melody on the face on the planet, "Tears of joy, 'Tsumu. You were a cute teenager in love."

He smiles with his teeth on display, his fading blonde hair falling on his face with perfection as he whispers, "Only for you, darling."

"I'm glad," you mutter, closing in and placing a ghost of a kiss on his lips when you realize, "Wait, shit! We have to take all of this to the House! I'm supposed to leave for Hogwarts tonight!"

"Kiss me first, then we'll talk."

"'Tsumu, you really didn't have to come all the way to Hogwarts to drop me off," you giggle, as the yellow-haired man intertwines his fingers with yours quietly, giggling along with you as he says, "Hey, now yer students get to see yer hot boyfriend that you've been with for the past eight years."

"My stupid boyfriend that did a lot of illegal things in school. You're not exactly a good influence, you know," you mumble, earning a little offended open-mouth Atsumu walking alongside you to your quarters. He continues faking the vexed expression, a hand on his heart as he says, "How could ya wound me like this, baby?"

"I love you though, so it's justified," you say, opening the door and placing your trunk by the bed. He closes the door, leaning on it with his arms crossed over his chest as you set up your things in the room. When you turned around, you saw Atsumu looking at you with the most enamored look in his clove-infused eyes. You sighed, your shoulders immediately relaxing when your orbs land on him by the door. You step towards him, your beige trench coat trailing behind as you wrap your arms around his very muscular figure(now that he's a part of Nottingham Jackals as a Beater).

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" you mumble against his chest softly, as he chuckles out, "Yer lucky ya get to stay in Hogwarts when I'm gone. Everything's gonna remind ya of me."

Before you open your mouth to retort, your boyfriend says, "Don't worry, slug. I'll send ya letters everyday. And I'll come to meet ya twice a month. Maybe you can even let me meet yer students."

"'Tsumu, no-"

"Imagine! Children and teenagers, all of 'em love me to death. They'll love yer class, even more, when you make me meet 'em!" he exclaims, his eyes filled with curiosity, "Also, also! What about the third years? I wanna be there when the boggart lesson goes on-"

"'Tsumu, no. The school won't allow it. Although, my students do come and ask about you a lot because they like your Quidditch playing skills. They're not idiots like me, they won't fall in love with your stupid personality," you chuckle, pulling away from the hug, but still holding his arms with yours. He pouts, pulling you into a soft kiss, but immediately pulling away and winking at you, "I'm gonna see ya in a few weeks. Maybe I'll take ya on a date to Hogsmeade again, we can sneak into the Shrieking Shack again under that invisibility cloak."

"'Tsumu, I'm a teacher, not a student!" you laugh, but he simply says, "If anything, that gives us an excuse!"

Miya Atsumu never expected you to be agitatedly running around in your green-room, trying to find things for your hair and make-up. He chuckles lightly because all the other people in the room can do is shake their heads and sigh at your frantic state. Your maid-of-honor, Kiyoko, tried to calm you down about half an hour ago, but it was to no avail.

Atsumu sent Kiyoko a knowing glance, to which she and all the other bridesmaids stepped outside for just a minute.

"[Y/N]," he says, his voice low but still soothing. You stop in your tracks, turning around and gasping as you looked at him—clad in sweatpants and a white shirt—and widened your eyes.

"Dummy, you aren't supposed to see me just yet! Go away and wait at the altar!" you yell, walking over to him and attempting to shove him outside the room.

Emphasis on the word, 'attempting'.

"You look exactly like what you are right now, a slug. So listen to me, love. I need to give ya something before you start stressin' out all over again," Atsumu murmurs, placing his hands on your shoulders tenderly as he pulls out a book with a leather cover and hands it to you.

You sigh, picking it up as you sit down by the vanity. Atsumu looms behind you, crouching down to whisper next to your ears, "Love, open the last page, will ya?"

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your head to look at him with exasperation. He places a peck to your cheek, humming indulgently as an indicator for you to continue as he instructed. You sigh again, shoulders drooping low as you turn over the book and open it, and muttering, "Aparecium."

July 2, 20**.

I want to marry [L/N] [Y/N] someday.

Miya Atsumu.

From the last day of the seventh year, and Atsumu continues to explain to you that during the train ride back home when all of you were sleeping, was when he wrote the last entry of his diary, and never opened it again. Because he knew, that he meant every word scribbled on every page.

You sat there, listening to the man with the messy faded blonde hair, losing yourself in his perfect brown eyes all over again. You felt as if you were diving deep into an ocean of pure chocolate, the sweetness and the slight bitterness getting the best of you as you drown—but voluntarily, because drowning was your intention.

"I love you, Atsumu," you say out of nowhere, cutting him off. He stops abruptly, his eyes growing wide and his mouth forming into a pout. His lips form into the brightest smile ever, as if the rays of a thousand suns meeting at one point. His boyish grin melts your heart, as he presses his lips to your forehead and says, "I love you more, darling. Now, take a breather, will ya?"

"Oh, and before I go. Don't disappoint me today, slug. I've been waiting to do this for the past eleven years."

i’m not crying. yes.

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13eyond13 · 2 years

Note

was there a dn character than you didn't care about at the start but because of fandom/fanfiction you started liking them? for me it's takada & jeevas. I used to dislike takada, but the fandom gave me insight of her character so i actually kinda like her now. i never cared about jeevas till i read doctrine hinterland. I don't think there will ever be a funnier version of jeevas than those! jeevas

I used to not like Near when I was first into DN back in the late 2000s, because I'd only ever watched the anime to get my idea of him, and thought he was really boring and a poor man's version of L. I started liking him a lot when I revisited the series and actually read the successor arc of the manga, though. I think I basically didn't care much about any of the characters except for Light and L the first time around, honestly? I might not have even been able to name most of the task force except Matsuda back then, and I was hyper-fixated on L and on Light to the exclusion of basically everybody else (except B, because I also read the novel when it was pretty new, and my B fangirl roots run deep haha). I think I've definitely gained better appreciation for Misa over time as well. I remember just finding her irritating initially instead of also finding her interesting and funny and scary and sad at times as well, which I do now. Actually reading the whole manga likely made me appreciate ALL the characters more, because they're just deeper and more clearly written and fleshed out in the manga, not to mention always extremely pretty to look at too! But the biggest shifts in terms of me growing to like the characters more were probably Near, Misa, and some of the other non-genius characters like the task force. Being an adult with some post-student life experience probably also helped me take an interest in and relate more to the older characters in the series the second time around, too.

And hahaha, Jeevas... I'd assume anyone who refers to Matt as Jeevas definitely has read Those. I gained a better appreciation for certain aspects of his canon self from reading that fic as well. He's characterized very differently in Those from how most people write him in fics, but I think much of the time it's oddly closer to how his personality was originally portrayed in the manga. And that fic has actually influenced my views on and opinions of basically ALL of the cast, pretty much? Gevanni is another one that I pay way more attention to now because of Those, and can't seem to separate his canon self from the Those version of him in my mind. I am sure when I saw that he was missing in the newest one shot that I imagined he's on a boat somewhere making lasagna and wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron entirely because of that AU lol

#ask #anon #near #misa amane #beyond birthday #matt #gevanni #those who stand for nothing fall for anything #p

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Note

For the fanfic asks: F, G, L, M, P, S, Y & Z. 🥰😊

F: share a snippet from one of your fave dialogue scenes you've written and why you're proud of it?

okay, the one that jumps up is "This is my present?" "I put a fucking bow on it, didn't I?" between heather & jackie about yn. there's probably more meaningful quotes out there, and honestly funnier ones, but i've written so much that I can't think of another one right now. there were definitely some really good ones in Classified Affairs, but i do admit, I took some of that directly from HOC, within the debate scene specifically. and there was a scene between jackie & underwood about the "our dynamic and leash you have me on" that i squealed at when i watched it cause it was *perfect* for heather & yn

G: do you write your story from start to finish, or write scenes out of order?

I write start to finish! if i wrote out of order then i would never end up finishing the story and doing all the other parts. i do usually have future scenes/stuff figured out before a chapter before them kinda thing, but i always make myself figure it out before i move on. if that makes sense

L: how many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

close to none lol. i usually write and then post it directly after, though with some series i have made sure i have a good chunk written before i start posting it, like i am with the new heather one. so those ones get a little bit more revision, same with SSS since i did that story in this style too. there was a lot to figure out and i needed everything to be right, so there were some revisions. in the one i'm doing now w/heather, I've changed a couple of things but it's like, a sentence max. ex; i realized if i changed it to 6 years of heather being gone instead of 5, Jackie would be finished her VP term by the end of the story. i also am actually watching HOC now, so I discovered heather's from connecticut, so i swapped that in instead of saying she was from ohio. tl;dr: basically none lol

M: got any premise on the back burner that you'd care to share?

hmm... ok, so since i've talked a lot about the vampire/fantasy AU already and I've mentioned the new Heather one so lets go with that.... -it's a Classified Affairs follow up, taking place 6 years post the little run in with yn at the end of CA. and after Bruised Peach. yn from CA is now an original character, and Heather returns back to DC, running into her family and she starts to try to get some redemption. along the way she meets yn, a school teacher, and things start to develop between them. only question is....has she done enough work on herself over the past few years to regain her family's trust, and will yn flee as soon as she hears all the crap heather pulled before she left dc in the first place?

P: how much do you plan in advance, vs letting the story unfold as you go?

depends on the fic. i have a very full and detailed outline for the new heather fic. with SSS it was the same. Peach has a very light outline in my phone. Then stuff like the Nanny fic, I had little spitball conversations with friends screenshotted or notes jotted down about the little things that could come into play and i kinda just wrote around those until a story looked good

S: any fandom tropes you can't resist?

fake dating, one night stand with a stranger who turns out to be your new coworker the next morning, secret relationship

Y: any character you want to protect?

oh lort. a lot of them. currently Velasco is pretty high up there, but also Keane, oh sweet sweet Keane, can we pls just take you to therapy and then burrito you in a blanket for snuggles?

Z: major character death? do you ever write/read it? is there a character whose death you can't tolerate?

yes and yes. i have no issues with that shit. though (spoiler alert) in Seeing Red i HAD to make it a WPP thing instead because i was terrified of manifesting Rita getting killed off in canon and i would hate myself forever if that happened LOL. i'm much more likely to kill off a yn or a family member. but we'll see! lol

thanks for asking!! 😊

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mydisasteracademia · 3 years

Text

Random Shigaraki Headcanons

This boi. This grubby boi. I love him so much but at the same time he would probably literally dust me so... (oof this one kinda dragged on and on... lol)

Literally has no idea about real-life relationship dynamics outside of what he’s observed in his own parents, in Sensei, and in Kurogiri. All he thinks in the beginning is that people who claim to love you will stand by and let you be hurt, that villains took care of him better than any damn hero, and that he can only truly rely on himself. (And Sensei.)

It takes a loooooooong time of interacting with other people to break himself out of this mindset, and even then, sometimes it comes creeping back if bad things happen.

Getting into canon territory with this one, but really, really, reeeeeeeeally hates heroes because they didn’t even bother to help him when he was going through a whole mental breakdown. Literally one of the only reasons he hates them so much. I know this is pretty much canon, but I doubt he would ever grasp Stain’s ideology of ‘maybe some are good’ because in his eyes, not even the underground pro heroes even bothered to see if he was okay. Remember the scene from the manga with the old lady when he was a child? Yeah. There were bound to be heroes he bumped into, even off-duty ones, and nobody even gave him another glance.

Has extremely bad abandonment issues. If he likes you, he’s gonna want to keep you because he didn’t really have anything nice to call his own while growing up, and Sensei kept him fairly isolated so he literally tolerates nobody else other than him and Kurogiri at first. Reacts horribly when his friends want to break off the friendship. Goes through a whole depressive episode for a while, his old insecurities pop back up, and he really thinks he’s worse than trash and not worth anyone’s time or attention for a while. Prime time for Sensei to further twist his mind.

On that same note, if you’re dating, for the love of everything still good in this world do not break his heart. He will never forgive you. Literally will go to the grave before he forgives you for doing what you did (whether it be cheating on him or completely dropping him like a hot potato). Although this might also extend to little issues that make him feel like you don’t love him enough, he’ll forgive you if you show him plenty of attention and apologize for whatever he was upset over. If you cannot remain patient through his toxic mindsets, it’s best not to get into a relationship in the first place with him if you want to still remain friends afterward, because breaking it off means instant heartbreak.

Anyway! Back to happier, funnier hcs!!

The whole embodiment of the “Wears black in summer because I look good and am willing to suffer” vine. Will not give up his comfy black shirt and sweats for anything because yes, he does look good in black, and yes, he is willing to suffer. He’ll switch to a v-neck tee though. Even he’s not that masochistic.

Really prone to dry skin. I know that’s canon, but just... this poor man can’t keep moisturized to save his own life. Constantly has to apply a special moisturizer that’s specifically made for ultra-sensitive skin and has no scents whatsoever.

Will gripe about having to spend so much money on ointment and moisturizer for both him and Dabi. It’s one of the very few things they bond over, other than having a shitty father and pushover family... and their hatred of All Might.

Shigaraki 100% would be Dabi’s alibi if he actually managed to kill Endeavor. When it comes to the shitty dad club, he’s a fuckin’ ride-or-die.

Kinda sensitive over the fact that both he and Midoriya have the same sort of red shoes, but he loves his pair too much to throw them out. Purposefully aims for Midoriya’s shoes every single time they meet each other on the off chance that they get ruined enough for him to get different shoes, unknowing that he literally can’t just... get differently-colored shoes due to him being originally Quirkless (yes, The Shoes™ theory strikes again)

Literally never forgets a single thing about people he cares about. He’s the type of person who will remember every single thing you tell him about yourself, and especially birthdays. While he doesn’t exactly show his affection very loudly, he would be the type of person who tell you “happy birthday” on the day of as soon as he first sees you, and would treat you a little nicer all day that day.

This boy just has the biggest, scarred heart for his ‘good crowd’. I cannot stress enough just how much like Midoriya he could’ve turned out if he hadn’t been abandoned by society. This mf would give the green bean a run for his motherfuckin money.

“I really just hate the world and everything in it... except for you, maybe I could make an exception for you because you’re nice to me and I appreciate your company too much”

Even though I hc quite a few League members to be like cats when it comes to affection, Shigaraki’s spirit animal is a cat. Likes to lounge about in off-moments, slow to affection and very quick to remember exactly how people treat him, yet if he likes you he shows affection quietly enough that it’s not obvious at first. Like “oh, you’re in the same room as me. It’s not like I missed you or anything, me sitting right next to you at the bar when it’s totally empty means nothing. The fact that I’m looking right at you when you’re talking doesn’t mean I like you.”

LOVES HUGS. If you hug him and he likes you, you’ve probably made his whole day. Depending on how things are going, probably his whole fucking week. Just please hug him, he needs positive affection so bad

Major tsun-tsun. The most tsun-tsun. Grumpy until you get to know him, and if he likes you he’ll show you in little ways: listening to your ideas more, letting you stay closer for longer, maybe getting you something like food.

AFRAID OF TOUCH. I REPEAT, AFRAID OF TOUCH. Not from anyone he likes, of course; this baby is so touch-starved that he deserves a thousand hugs. But if he likes you, he will not initiate physical affection because he’s so afraid of accidentally dusting you. The memories of his family dying (except for his father, because #FuckKotaro2k21) haunt him almost every time he dreams (and if that doesn’t, then other traumatizing events certainly do), and he absolutely would not forgive himself if he dusted his favorite League member/civilian.

Definitely likens the rest of the League to his MVPs after a while of knowing them. Knowing how he operates, it’s adorable.

Would begrudgingly let Toga play around with his hair. I can just see him sitting blank-faced, staring at the mirror as she talks about whatever while brushing and braiding it into a cute plait. He would be hesitant to undo her hard work afterward, no matter how much he grouches that it “ruins his boss vibe”.

The kind of person to go to McDonalds at 3 AM just because he was craving chicken nuggets and ranch. Yes, ranch. He’s an old-school mf who don’t got no time for no barbecue.

Gets really irritated over Toga mooning over Uraraka and Midoriya, but doesn’t stop her from talking about how much she wants to ‘be’ them. (Encourages homicide. Advises homicide. Spinner has to stop her from actually getting ready to commit homicide.)

Disgruntled™

G L O A T S about the time he took away Overhaul’s chance to use his Quirk. “Yeah, we would’ve been satisfied with Compress taking his left arm away to be petty, but then Overhaul had to be a sentient piece of dick cheese, and well, y’know I couldn’t let him get away with that”

It’s becoming a problem. The others have learnt to tune him out once he gets going. Compress just smiles under the mask when he remembers it. Nobody knows what he’s really thinking.

His damn crowning moment. His apex point. There’s no going further beyond that (until he finally defeats Midoriya and takes over Japan as the world’s most feared villain of all time).

“Shigaraki, I’mma let you finish, but AFO still holds the record for being the most infamous villain of all time! Of all time!” <-- let the boy dream okay, he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life

Can you tell that I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass? Because I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass

Chronic emo phase. Hears the G note and just sighs heavily

Has probably seen hentai. Doesn’t really get the appeal of high-pitched feminine screams. Probably more of a tiddy man than an ass man. Just... boobie

His first fictional crush was Aeris/Aerith. Legitimately lost his shit when she died.

Man Crush Monday is Sephiroth all the way. Especially his one-winged angel form. Wanted to cosplay him for Halloween but didn’t because the cosplay was too costly.

Will make “That’s what she said” jokes in the most deadpan voice. At least Mustard kinda snickers at them.

Probably would’ve been pretty patient with Eri. Her traumatic past certainly would’ve pitted her as a kindred spirit with him, and he would think her Quirk would be a powerful asset if used right. Probably would’ve practiced it by destroying something and then telling her to rewind it so that he can break it again.

Shigaraki, holding Eri by her armpits: “I’ve only had her for ten minutes but if anything happened to her I’d dust everyone in the room to make her feel better”

The rest of the League: “???????? Okay?????”

Legitimately holds a powerful grudge against parents who abuse or neglect their children, especially against abusive fathers. Almost as powerful as his hatred for All Might. Will actively go after someone he sees is abusive to their children and will not let them live.

Would probably adopt an orphan after killing their abusive parents. “Oh, that was your dad/mom/parent? Well guess you’re mine now. Let’s go get chicken nuggets, kid”

Might somehow rope Dabi into going abusive-parent-hunting with him during a raid. Takes great pleasure in seeing the guilty party’s horrified, pained look on their face as they slowly dissolve into a pile of ash.

#shigaraki headcanons

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whoslaurapalmer · 3 years

Text

so i never do this but i put a lot of thought into really specific details about the structure and scene layout of (the three-part folding mirror) and i really really really want to talk about it so here are some of my notes and some general commentary

-the crux of the fic, at least the way i had envisioned it, is what vfd does to family, how it becomes biological family vs the family created by vfd

-what vfd did to specific families: -physically separated the calibans -morally separated the denouements and the snickets -somehow brought the anwhistles closer together

-in terms of ramona and olaf, ramona was there to stress the distinction of biological family vs. vfd family but also how they’re so inextricably intertwined with each other, and olaf, this is harder to tell bc he doesn’t have a point of view here, but olaf is scoping out potential candidates for his personal group of firestarters – his own sort of “family” (ramona bc she’s a duchess, ernest because he has a similar line of thought, josephine because her husband is working with the mushrooms, the white-faced women because, well they wind up in his troupe and I have very vague headcanons about how that happens)

-related; the reason frank asks olivia about miranda at the end is because, at that point in the fic, frank feels so terrible about what he said to ernest that he’s trying to reassure himself that his family is still okay because (dewey’s right) at least they’re together, compared to the calibans, who haven’t seen each other in years. it was one of the first ideas I had when I was jotting ideas down in april and it stuck with me the whole way through. I really wanted it in there. I went back and forth before I got to this plot, though, on whether or not frank or ernest would be the one asking it. but I think it fits frank. -(ahahahahahaha the kicker being that miranda really was at the party the whole time and olivia didn’t recognize her) -anyway

-the parallels in the fic were: -the denouements start the fic together, and end the fic alone (by being honest about how they feel about each other) -the snickets start the fic relatively separated, and end the fic together (by being dishonest about what happened during the party) -the denouements start the fic by playing their game, and the snickets end the fic with theirs -frank is mistaken for ernest, ernest is mistaken for frank -frank pretends to be ernest on accident, ernest pretends to be frank on purpose -dewey has never slammed a door in his life; towards the end of the fic he slams the tray -i….think that’s all of them. I think

-character-wise, jacques and frank both see themselves as the people holding their families together; when in fact for the denouements, it’s dewey, which I think is clear in this, and for the snickets it’s lemony, which is less clear here? but definitely something I agree with -dewey and kit see themselves as the most ‘normal’, and they both have relatively solitary positions of acquiring information -ernest and lemony clearly both vibe on a ‘question vfd’ wavelength -i was also interested in kit and ernest, as siblings who feel stifled by an older/perceived older sibling, and dewey and lemony, who are sometimes unnecessarily protected by their siblings because they are the youngest/perceived youngest -this doesn’t show up in the fic bc olaf’s parents are still alive, but I thought ramona and olaf were also interesting foils re: reacting to their parent’s deaths

-some narration notes: -frank never refers to ernest and dewey as his brothers, except in the scene where he argues with ernest. because frank doesn’t necessarily see the split of biological family vs vfd family but has definitely swayed more to vfd family -ernest and dewey always refer to each other as brothers. -similarly, frank refers to the members of vfd as associates, most everyone else refers to them as friends. -ernest refers to vfd as strictly VFD because he’s distanced himself from it, while everyone else calls it ‘the organization’ -frank doesn’t swear even in his narration when he’s thinking them and not saying them because it’s, still his narration. he still wouldn’t quite completely say the words. (oh, he’s like gansey, like that. the raven cycle is still on my brain. i had so many scene sketches where ernest and frank were way too callous to each other bc they kept coming out like ronan and declan.) -kit’s line at the beginning is “someone in this very room has betrayed us” which is jacques’s line from the building committee meeting in unauto. the clock saying wrong afterwards is because the someone who really betrayed them (lemony) isn’t in the room.

-the costumes, which i did decide very arbitrarily: monty: clearly a snake. olaf: sigh. wolf ramona and olivia: oh, there was actually a slight distinction that just no one notices because none of them have looked at an insect (and also because describing clothes properly but succinctly is the hardest thing. i've written fic for a long time!!!!! i did my time in block paragraph clothing description hell!!! it haunts me!!!!!!!!!!), but ramona was the butterfly and olivia was actually a dragonfly. their masks are roses because, well 1) I thought that would be cool 2) butterflies and dragonflies land on flowers…. jacques: the boxwood, but a lion otherwise. josephine: ocean widdershins: the octopus with the pirate hat jacquelyn: the gold star suit (because gustav said she should do it for a play on. star. like. actress star.) miranda: uranus’s moon named miranda. it was very vague and I put that in the fic before I decided to have her in the little scene with esme. and then i thought i would put her in that scene too. gustav: phantom of the opera. haruki: tree frog hector: tree (not because of haruki’s costume but because i literally could not think of a damn thing for hector to be) lemony: uhhhhhh I had vague ideas he was. a cloud or something. like a stormcloud???? couldn’t pan out though. I like him in grey anyway. kit: I really just wanted her in red. with a big cape. and i spent so much time mentally deciding if i wanted her to have glasses or not in the archives that i forgot to mention her mask. everyone has one i swear to god white faced women: did anyone recognize that was them? :) it’s not mentioned in any way at all but in my head they were all dressed identically as flappers

esme actually doesn’t have one, because I, forgot, to give her one. I’m taking suggestions.

-references to lyeekha’s fics: -“that which is essential is invisible to the eye” is what frank says to jacques at the end of edge, and also the title of their snicket/denouement series -it initially wasn’t in there, because I was worried it wasn’t, like, in the right tone, re: what happens in edge vs how I was interpreting jacques and frank? but i liked it a lot. so i put it back in. -“frank quit smoking, but you didn’t” is a reference to frank smoking at the end of rigged -guess the guest and the clock alcove are from the end of fragments, with dewey and ernest watching hotel guests. this is my favorite thing in the whole world and something i actually keep forgetting is not canon because it is SUCH the perfect beethoven parallel -kit’s tattoo, which I was specifically imagining as the giant bombinating beast tattoo from ink on her back, which is definitely not around her neck but that was the only spot of skin she was showing so it was available and my thought was, it was kind of a low-cut in the back dress, and she was wearing the cape to cover up the giant tattoo on her back because beatrice was not there to cover it up with makeup (also bea picked out the dress.) (bea: if I can’t be there you have to make a statement) (kit: I have to what) -lemony being a “powerful, mythical figure” to the sugar bowl gen was actually something I wrote a long time ago, back in 2013, and I put it in the fic because I thought it fit, and then happened to reread double edged VERY late into the rewriting, literally THE DAY after I wrote that line in, and i saw a similar line of thought, and I was like “*cooper voice* sometimes you just get lucky ~ ” -jacques being in a lion costume, from the masquerade outfit sketches

additionally – -yes I am still cackling about ‘angel of my apple’ -angel of my apple -ANGEL OF MY APPLE -writing olaf is constantly like, he can say the funniest fucking things. and then turn around and say the absolute cruelest shit and the balance can be difficult. -but, angel of my a p p l e

-i can’t believe that out of all the people here, frank and jacques are the ones having the most semi-successful romantic relationship. well, ramona and olivia, too, but frank and jacques actually kiss so good for them -i know it was very vague and it’s because writing romance is physically embarrassing, but yes that last line was supposed to be them kissing, i’m so sorry

-undercover underwater was a last-minute addition because I didn’t want to take the time to try and google something real and good because I didn’t have the time. my guilty pleasure is super shitty hallmark murder mystery movies (I like good murder mysteries as well, thank you.) and my mom’s been reading terrible murder mysteries during lunch (where I was sitting across from her, also eating lunch, but also hiding behind my laptop and writing the fic) so I just came up with undercover underwater on the spot, but my mom came up with the tagline. it was originally ‘sleeps with the fishes’ (especially because i love the godfather movies which also, clearly has a very big stress on family vs The Family) but I thought ‘diving for the truth’ was funnier. -my mom and my brother (who has no interest in shitty murder mysteries, but loves to verbally smack them down with me re: their predictable tropes) and I decided that the plotline was something like, single woman scuba dives and keeps running into stuff (you know, hidden treasure, dead bodies, the like); her love interest drives the boat; her overbearing family member is an aunt; this is definitely like, book four in the series. there’s probably twelve books or something. (she goes on vacation on like book six and still finds a dead body, come on it practically writes itself.) (she probably owns a little fish tank......it’s a small sunny beach town.........etc etc.........) (it’s so easy to do this.) -oh, fixer upper is the worst hallmark murder mystery series, murder she baked is the best. in my opinion.

-dewey and lemony were supposed to have an actual conversation at the hors d’oeuvres table but every time I tried to put lemony in earlier he just wouldn’t work. it didn’t feel right. so he got saved for the reveal. -but i’m still delighted by the idea of lemony literally doing the shot of gazpacho. -dewey uses a spoon because he doesn’t have the composure or the guts to do a shot of cold soup -lemony was also supposed to have a scene with kit and one with jacques, i’m pretty sure, to lead up to the gazpacho conversation and the commiserating re: siblings. but again, didn’t work out. so then dewey had to fare alone in the scene. -oh!! the line about how lemony hides, in the least likely places, was actually something that was in my initial write of lemony’s scrapped pov of my ellington fic. jacques being responsible for sending olivia to the hinterlands was from a scrapped jacques fic. -steal from your unused fic.

-because I had to take scenes with lemony out, I had some, gaps in the night that I had to fill in (especially because this is a party more people are there than the snickets and the denouements), so that was how esme, the herpetology squad, and olaf and josephine came to be. (also olaf needed to show up again somewhere else otherwise he kind of, disappeared awkwardly, I thought?) -also because initially there was going to be a scene of bea and bertrand, elsewhere, but I wanted to keep the fic contained to the hotel, because one of the ideas I wasn’t able to put into the fic all that much was the sense of the hotel being its own world -oh, bea and bertrand don’t know that lemony used them as cover. the assignment they were working on instead of being at the party? planning the opera. the scene would’ve come right after ramona and olaf’s conversation. -the herpetology squad not only serves to highlight that people can’t tell the denouements apart (part of the foreshadowing that ernest would pretend to be frank), but was also me roasting myself because writing like a million different characters I had never written like this before had me very concerned about if their characterization was consistent, specifically for kit. (specifically, her with dewey.) also defining a character down to one base trait can be helpful when writing and creating characters, but for people no it’s not ideal. -haruki’s estimation of the denouement’s traits were not how i was mentally keeping track of them, because i definitely do do the ‘one base trait’ sometimes, but i had a lot more going on when i was thinking of them -but yes dewey is kind. in the way that bertrand is kind, but bertrand’s like, way more smooth about it.

-lemony does not have his own pov because, for me personally, I can’t fathom writing him in any other way besides first person, and it just would not do to have one scene out of the whole fic not in third person. unless he was secretly narrating each scene, which, he clearly was not. i would’ve had to do it in a whole different style.

-i love that dewey and kit are like ‘ahaha we’re the normal ones though’ and their normal conversation is them literally going ‘hey these creepy fish are AWESOME THOUGH’ -i looked at so many fish. for hours. -ALL BECAUSE I came up with the phrase ‘oceanic intrigue’ as a fun phrase and decided I had to commit my soul to it and never look back. -oh, the fairy shrimp are really very cute though. and i think the cookiecutter shark is, fucked up but a neat little guy.

-i’m eternally going to be laughing about this too kit: where the fuck is frank frank: /three floors down, making out with jacques

-oh!! 40-49 is unassigned in the dewey decimal system (which I googled. many, many times.), and was previously biographies. there’s another section for biographies now, but because biography was the closest I could come to like, some sort of, identity category, I thought it was more fitting if it was the section that used to be biography but was now as blank as frank felt.

-dewey is the one responsible for the clock sounding like it does. he just thinks ‘wrong’ is a fun word. that, and frank recognizing jacques by sound, were from my earlier scene sketches for this when i thought this fic was going to be much, much shorter.

#lulu talks about the sad lemon man

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leahseclipse · 3 years

Text

Detention time

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: They're high school students, Reader gets a detention and Dean, not wanting to be alone, joins them.

Warnings: Some insults, but nothing bad. Just two baddies idiots fooling around in school.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: My very first spn fic,,, I'm really excited about this!!!!! Although, a person with whom I talk of spn, would be surprised that my first fic isn't with Sam as he's my fav 😂, don't get me wrong, I love Dean too, but Sam- 👁️v👁️

"y/l/n, detention." A male voice announced which had basically become the anthem of the class considering how many times it was told, to her, or even, by the other troublemaker of the class, known as: Dean Winchester.

They both were called the detention duo, whether they'd have detention the same day or not, they'd always somehow have one in the same week.

But that day, only y/n had gotten one. The reason? Calling the teacher a moron, incompetent -and a bitch-, but she didn't hear it.

She'd probably have a nice trip to the principal, along with a possible one week exclusion.

She was...well known for her original words that would definitely be followed by a detention as soon as it was told.

Let's say that...she had her own behaviour that would make her ‘unique’.

This could kind of be seen as a show to the class, mostly from y/n's side, as all the teacher could say was a bit of complaining, and the famous sentences well known, to annouce the detention.

It was definitely funnier when coming from the teacher y/n just called a moron.

For Dean, it'd depend.

Sometimes it would be because he had called them a pussy, or just because the teacher had decided that he had annoyed them too much for its liking.

He'd even have the talent of getting detention when he was out of class.

So, thinking it'd be fun to bring back the detention duo, Dean decided to add his own spice to the party, doing it with another one, who hated him as much he hated y/n.

Dean would usually annoy him on purpose, but that time he just did it without realizing it, it had basically become a habit that he wouldn't even think of doing it, he'd already be doing it.

Not really any of the class could have predicted it, even if it hadn't become surprising coming from him at some point.

The hour had almost gone by calmly, and just a few minutes before the end were left.

But when Dean's remarks, and the lack of these because he wasn't doing anything was enough to the teacher, soon the whole class knew what was coming.

And, as if Dean hadn't fallen deep enough, he finished his answer with 'bitch'.

The final touch.

"Winchester, since I guess that you seem to have free time, and have disrespectful behavior, you'll be joining Saturday's detention, with a small trip to the principal beforehand?"

"Sounds good."

Result; both found themselves on a Saturday, each sitting at a spot across the room, not really knowing what to do.

As much as they were known as a duo, and possibly friends, y/n didn't like him a lot.

She was...kinda friend with his brother, Sam, but never really talked with Dean, even if they’d both been in detention quite a few times.

But Dean, just…being Dean, actually wanted them to be friends. He had tried multiple times to, somehow, have a chat that would last longer than one minute, which failed until now.

Today might be a good shot, and he's gonna try again, even if she might not be open to it.

Detention were a loss of time, they'd give either give you a stupid paper -which, by the way, wasn't even checked-, so whether you'd do it or not, they didn't care.

Or, in this case, they'd just have someone watch over you, they would have a glance, go out for a bit, come back later, or literally at the end of the detention…which could be the case right now.

They had left god knows where, leaving the "detention duo" to themselves, which didn't change much.

Whether the guy watching them was here or not, the room was so silent that you could hear a door opening from across the hall, even the first floor.

“You’re still going to be on silent mode, as usual?” Dean asked, glancing at the girl. “You could at least say hi, be polite, you know?”

“Fuck off Winchester.”

“I said polite, not asshole mode.”

“Since when am I supposed to talk nice to you as if we were pals?”

“You don’t necessarily have to be friends with someone to be nice, it’s just basics.”

“Well, I don’t really give a fuck about your basics. What about that?”

“Woah, chill. I was just trying to be nice, which you aren’t.” He muttered.

“Oh, because you’re nice? Aren’t you sitting in detention with me right now for calling the teacher a bitch?”

“He deserved it, and you kind of did the same thing as me, let me remind you of that.”

“He also deserved it, but, did I deserve to be annoyed by you though?”

“No, but my plan was totally different, I didn’t want to annoy you, on the contrary.”

“Hm, it seemed like it to me.”

“It’s just you seeing things that way instead of what they really are.”

“Oh really? You’re kidding, right Winchester?”

“Why would I be?”

“You’re always here, saying shit, that at some point it’s kind of complicated to know if you’re being serious or not.”

“I hate to admit that, but you’re...right, but just in a way, not completely. I can be serious if asked to.”

“Oh, because you can be? I never found you serious once.”

“Are you saying that I’m a fool?”

“I never said that, you just assumed it yourself right now.” She spat.

“No, I was just trying to guess what you meant when you said that you didn’t find me serious, that is all.”

“Oh, you should have told me. I thought you were trying to ask me how I was seeing you, and I just told it."

“Did anyone ever tell you that you can be...quite indirect sometimes? No?”

“I’m just pointing out the truth, what I think. What’s wrong with that?”

“What is wrong, is that it’s not necessarily what people want to hear from you, especially when they’re being nice, like with me.”

“I didn’t notice you were trying to be nice, you’re such an ass with teachers and some nerds that I didn’t even think there was an ounce of sweetness in your head.”

Touché.

“Well uh...people can be...nice, just because they’re, not really nice to some, and can seem...a bit intimidating, it doesn’t mean they can’t be nice to others.” Dean blurted out, desperately trying to find arguments.

“You’re a dick Winchester, face it.”

��I wouldn’t go that far to the point of being categorized as a dick, but okay, I can be...mean.”

“You forgot one adjective.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You sure?”

“...annoying.”

“There ‘ya go.”

“Is there anything else to add to the list of defaults you’ve noticed about me, or are you done?”

“Unless you want a four page long essay, I’m done...for now, at least.” Y/N said, tapping her pencil against the table. “Why? Do you want more? I can keep going, I have one week free.”

“No, I’m uh...I’m good.”

“Hm. I got nothing to talk about then, too bad.”

“There's a lot of stuff to say other than me.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know. What we like, what we hate about these teachers, or even random stuff we have. I know you like to talk about me, but we can switch the subject.”

“Me, liking to talk about you? You’re kidding. You just annoyed me, and I responded to you.”

“You seem quite enthusiastic and well informed.”

“No, I was not.”

“If you say so.”

“There’s no ‘if you say so’, as I said, I was just splitting out facts.”

“...that, again, seemed to be interesting enough for you to waste five minutes.”

“I regret answering you in the first place now.”

“No, you don’t. You love talking with me, I know you do. You should feel honored to have Dean Winchester talking to you, I don’t do that with many people.”

“Honored what? You’re not a star, you’re just the school’s brat.”

“You’re not as innocent as I am, I could call you a brat too, but I’m staying polite.”

“Oh, because you were being polite? I didn’t notice, you should have told me, I would have tried to take things differently.”

“I’m being polite, since the beginning of the conversation. You just didn’t notice, as you said.”

“Okay, you were a bit more polite than usual.”

“That’s a great compliment, coming from you.”

“Probably the only one you’ll receive.”

“The only one? You sure? I’m kind of...handsome. So, you should have some things to tell.”

“Am I supposed to see it as a joke or not?”

“...it wasn’t a joke.”

“I thought it was, because you're mostly an ass to me, not a handsome guy.”

“I know you don’t make jokes usually, but I think it’s one, no? Come on, you can’t say I’m not as handsome as all of these actors you see at TV and all.”

“What am I supposed to say in that?”

“That you find me nice, and all, you know. I know you got lots of things to say.”

“No, and even if I did, why would you deserve to hear them?”

“Because it’s...about me? You had a lot of...not really nice stuff, so it shouldn’t be a problem to say the opposite, if you happened to think that way.”

“Do I look like I want to waste the week I have to say that?”

“Maybe.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Come on, I’m not asking for a whole week, just like...a few days?”

“That’s even worse.”

“Okay, one day.”

“Less worse, but not better.”

“You don’t even have one day to spare for your favorite classmate? I’m charming, funny, nice...sometimes, I’m cool to hang out with, I got a nice brother, and plus, as we’re both Winchesters, it’s even funnier. I’ll pull him out of his books and drag him outside.”

“If I do agree, do I get to drag him outside too? I have to warn him though, I won’t be delicate.”

“You get to drag him outside, I’ll even let you do it, from start to end.”

“Then, I guess I can spare some time out of the free week I have.”

“Yeah, we don’t give a single fuck about the assignments.”

“Sam will help us on the last day.”

“True, we can threaten him too.”

“For once, you have good ideas.” She pointed out.

“What can I say? I’m a Winchester, so that’s pretty logical for me to be talented, creative and smart.”

“I said that you have good ideas, that’s all. I didn’t ask for you to brag about yourself.”

“You tempted me, and...by the way, since we’ll be stuck together for a week, might as well become less formal?”

“You mean...with our names? Me calling you Dean, and you calling me y/n?”

“That’ll be a great start.”

“It’s a bit weird though. I’ve always been calling you Winchester, it’s weird to call you Dean all of a sudden.”

“See it as a small privilege, not that many people get that chance.”

“Do any other people get the chance of getting annoyed by you?”

“I’m not annoying, just like to chat a lot. Come on, y/n, it’s not that hard to call me by my name, you gotta get used to it to preserve your privilege.”

“You’re lucky that the only knives we have here are plastic ones, and totally harmless. I would have already stabbed you by now.”

“You’ll be way too sad without me here.”

“Not at all Dean.”

“I doubt so, y/n.”

“I’ll have Sam with me to replace you.”

“Nah, not even Sam can. I’m Dean Winchester, no one can replace me.”

“I spent a lot of time with Sam, and it was as nice as when I’m with you.”

“You mean, book talk? That’s not what I call fun.”

“It’s more interesting.”

“It’s boring.” Dean said.

“Boring is what I say when I happen to be with you, which is right now.”

“Nah, you had fun.”

“Yeah, 1%.”

“I’m sure it’s a bit more than that, we've been here for one hour already.”

“Okay, 1,000001%. Is that better?”

“Not really.”

“I was being nice by adding all of these zeros.”

“It made it just a bit worse. It should have been 50% at least.”

“50% is a bit too much, would have given 20% maximum.”

“I guess it’s better than 1%.”

“I’m being generous, I gave 19% more.”

“I better get a piece of paper to remember it, it’s quite rare coming from you, I’m honored.”

“Watch out, I might get back on my decision to waste my precious time with you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going to be extra nice.”

“I’ll make sure to have my phone and record it, I might not believe it when I’ll happen to think about it a bit later.”

“I said that I was going to be nice, that applies for you too.”

“Fine, Dean.”

“See, it took one hour for us to get along, and for once, it wasn’t a bad detention. You even ended up calling me Dean.”

“If you say so, and yeah, it was better than usual. We should try to get another, but outside of the class, like being late three times when we get back next week, and maybe add something to not just get detention.”

“Yeah, ‘could be nice. Our parents are going to be pretty pissed off at that.”

“To be honest, did we ever care about that?”

“Not once, as long as I can recall.”

“Exactly.”

“It might get us kicked out at some point.”

“I never liked studying anyway, I won’t mind getting out of here.” She admitted.

“Who likes that?”

“Sam.”

“Oh, he’s always been a nerd. But, a nice one, and not really annoying.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of like us, but...a bit more strict. Bet 10 dollars he’s going to lecture us.”

“Bet.” Dean answered.

“Okay deal. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“They’re going to annoy us for that.”

“They said we’re out for a week, we’re just leaving early.”

“I guess it’s okay then.”

“Hell yeah it is. We have one week to waste ahead of us.”

“I’ve never enjoyed an exclusion that much before.”

“That’s normal, I wasn’t there to make it fun. Now we’ll spend these together, it’ll be a nice one instead of a useless one.”

“Let’s get to it then.” Dean announced, as he crossed the door after her, sneaking out to walk in the direction of the hallway.

Guess that detention wasn’t that bad after all.

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural dean #supernatural fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #jensen ackles x reader #dean x y/n #supernatural au

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

Divided We Fall

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: In which she feels torn between the man she’s grown to love, whose ideas she agrees with, and her mentor and brother figure - who took her in with open arms and always accepted her when nobody else could.

Warnings: mentions of violence, angst, soft steve as always. you know the drill

A/N: tony’s your sort-of older brother (he took you in to train you not long before howard and maria passed), and you’re around steve’s age? I think? idk. includes a short IW scene but the time skip isn’t as drastic. SUPER SHITTY BC THIS IS A REALLY OLD ONESHOT

Tags: @pies-writes-and-more <3

Steve stood alone in the isle after Peggy’s funeral, leaning against the pew as he stared blankly down at the ground with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

You silently approached him and without introduction, he began to speak. "When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her."

"She had you back, too."

Steve looked up, meeting your gaze. "Who else signed?"

"Tony, Rhodey, Vision, Nat."

"Clint?"

"Says he's retired," you smiled slightly.

"Wanda?"

"TBD. I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There's plenty of room on the jet."

Steve sighed and bowed his head.

"Just because it's the path of least resistance," you continued, "doesn't mean it's the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together."

"What are we giving up to do it?" He shook his head, unconvinced by your words. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't sign it."

"I know. I don't want to, either. But it's not like I have any other choice."

"The thing is, you do."

"You know why I am." You gave him a hard stare. "Tony...he's basically the only family I have left. I'm no longer a daughter, no longer a girl with dreams...no longer with hope. I'm a weapon. As much as I don't agree with him, betraying him is the last thing I wanna do. He’s my mentor. I can’t just turn against him like that...it wouldn’t feel right."

"Y/N..."

"You know what I've done," you took in a deep breath, "I don't want to hurt any more people. I don't want to be controlled by a government that might not deem everything big enough of a threat for us to go out and do something about it, but I can't risk any more than I already have. I don't have any other choice but to sign those Accords, Steve."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I didn't want you to be alone."

You stepped forward, carefully pulling him into an embrace and at first, he tensed up at your touch but eventually relaxed, letting his arms wrap around you to pull you closer. And he just held you there, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other one held to the back of your head. Your head was buried in his chest and the warmth of him felt so familiar and safe; oddly comforting, that your chest began to ache because you knew in a matter of time you'd be ripped apart again.

Steve felt guilty. Despite the fact that he was the majority of the reason why all of this was happening, you still found it in your heart to look past it all and forgive him, to accept him for who he was.

The broken woman standing before him was someone he'd grown to care about far more than he wanted himself to. Knowing that it wasn't long before you were taken away from him and forced to stand against him only made his grip around you tighten, as he was afraid to let you go out of his sight.

...

Seeing you across from him on the opposite side of the battlefield, standing firmly in between your Tony and T'Challa, broke his heart. If he was forced to fight Tony's team, he would. But he wasn't going to fight you, no matter what.

Everyone, while they were all busy fighting each other, could clearly tell something was going on between the two of you. But they didn't question it. They could clearly tell Steve loved you too much to even try and lay a finger on you and when someone else tried to, he quickly advanced on them.

You finally caved and turned last minute towards the end of the battle, unable to stand against the one man you cared about more than anyone else that wasn't family.

Everyone's actions followed with consequences. Though you'd switched sides abruptly, you'd been granted permission to stay with Tony at the compound under strict circumstances that you never stepped out of line again, or you'd be sent to the Raft prison along with the rest of Team Cap as well.

"Cap loves you, you know," Rhodey noticed your solemn expression as you, him, and Tony sat around in the lounge, taking in the aftermath.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you pressed your fingers to your temples. "I made a mistake."

"We all make mistakes. People do bad things when they're trying to survive."

"Tony, I'm sorry," you turned over to the billionaire, "but I just...I couldn't stand against him. Not when we've stuck together for so long." The words that came out of Tony's mouth surprised you.

"I know. He couldn't do that, either."

"We've all done things that we'd like to take back," you murmured, staring down at your hands now in your lap, "Pain makes people change. I'd like to believe I didn't just do this, I didn't almost turn on you guys. You know I didn't want to sign. But I did, because you're like my family. I can't fight my own family." "He's made mistakes, yeah," Rhodey said, "but we've all messed up, you know. We’re only human.”

"My mistake was letting myself love someone I'd have to end up hurting eventually," you stated bitterly, a sharp edge to your voice.

"Cap made that same mistake, too," Tony spoke up. "We all screwed up. Some of us just have to find it in ourselves to forgive...but I don't know if I can do that yet."

"I know," you glanced over at him, "I miss them so much. Your parents...they changed my life for the better."

The billionaire took in a shaky breath. "I miss them too."

"You guys might wanna open this now," Rhodey handed you an envelope with your name on it, and Tony a package with a phone inside. "Tony Stank."

You snorted, and Tony cracked a small smile.

"Table for one, Tony Stank?" you joked.

"You're practically a Stank too, Y/L/N, you know that," he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Tony Stank just sounds funnier."

You quickly fell silent as you opened the letter.

Y/N, I'm glad you're back at the compound. I don't like the idea of you and Stark rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was 18. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the army. My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part, they haven't let me down. Which is why I can't let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn't. I know I hurt you both. I guess I thought by not telling you about Howard and Maria that I was sparing you, but I can see now that I was really sparing myself, and I'm sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand. I wish we all agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you're doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do. I know you didn't want to sign, but you were right in siding with your family. Even though you were on the opposite side of the battlefield, I couldn't fight you. I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't and I never will. No matter what happens. Just know that I ...

"Priority call from Secretary Ross," FRIDAY's voice drifted through the room, "There's been a breach at the Raft prison." "Yeah, put him through."

"Y/N, Tony, we have a problem, Cap and—" Ross called in.

"Ah, please hold," you interrupted.

"No, don't—"

You glanced back down at the letter in your hands, filled from top to bottom with Steve's elegant handwriting.

So, no matter what. I promise you, if you need us, if you need me, I'll be there. It's you, it always has been and it always will be, and I'm sorry for realizing that too late. I'm sorry for not being able to come back. I know I promised I'd always be by your side, and I will. Although I may not in the best situation to return right now, I promise you I'll see you soon. Take care, -S.R.

Several tears welled up in your eyes and slipped down your face as you closed the letter, staining the paper with dark spots.

"So, what'd he say," Tony took in your watery eyes and hard-set jaw. "Something wrong?"

"...He's on the run," your voice broke, "but they're all out. He broke them out.”

...

170 DAYS LATER

It was almost half a year of Team Cap jumping from motel to motel under different names and disguises every night, while still trying to defend the world as best as they possibly could. And when they were caught, Steve was sure that they'd be sent back.

"He'll come back soon, I'm sure of it," Rhodey reassured you as you watched the news of the search for Captain America was still underway. "When someone loves you the way he does, he's gonna find a way to return."

"He doesn't love me. I'm no better than a monster. And...I'm pretty sure he has heart eyes for Sharon."

"Well, he fucked up on that part," he agreed, clasping your shoulder, "but you know what? In the end, he still loves you. We all saw the way he looked at you back in Germany, he didn't want to hurt you. If he truly cared, he wouldn't hurt you even if you were on the opposing side, and that's what he did. I know he's gonna return: for your sake."

"I don't know why I'm letting myself do this."

"What? Loving him? That isn't anything new."

"New?"

"Sweetheart, I knew from the moment I first saw you look at him that you were. Look, love is worth fighting for, but sometimes you can't be the only one fighting. At times, people need to fight for you. You gotta be vulnerable and let him in your heart. Otherwise you'll keep feeling like you're in pain."

He did return.

You'd gone to trial and defended him under your name two weeks prior. Much to your current oblivion, your persuasion had worked and he was granted release and allowed to return, though he did so under the same strict circumstances given to you as well. He was warned to not pull off something like this a second time, and promise to ask for the government's aid whenever necessary.

So you're not expecting to buzz him and the others in late one Friday night.

"Y/N."

"Nat?"

"Can you buzz us in?"

"Uh...yeah, sure," you nodded, opening the gates to let them through. Within minutes, they were standing right in front of you, looking the exact same as they did five months ago, though the exhaustion was clear in all their faces.

"Greetings, Y/N." The android's arm was slung around Sam's shoulders, who was helping to hold him upright.

"Vision."

"It's good to see you guys, Rhodey greeted.

"t's great to see you too," Wanda smiled. She seemed to have aged a bit since you'd last seen her though she was only a teenager, but still looked much younger than everyone nonetheless.

"Well, you guys really look like crap. Must've been a rough couple of months."

"Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five-star," Sam shrugged. "Where's Clint?"

"After the whole Accords situation, him and Scott took a deal. It was too tough on their families, they're on house arrest," Natasha explained.

She turned to you and gave you a tight hug, squeezing your hand as she pulled away. "Hey. How you holding up?"

"Could be better," you gave her a sad smile. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, hey."

Steve stepped out from behind Wanda and Sam and took a few tentative steps towards you, his feet feeling heavier by the second.

The one man you thought you wouldn't be seeing again for a while was now in front of you, and you weren't sure how to react. Your heartbeat was deafeningly loud in your ears, drowning out the sounds of everything else as everyone fell silent upon seeing you two interact.

"Hey," you responded a few moments later, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets. You lifted your head slowly, an unrecognizable sort of emotion flickering in your eyes for a brief second before you averted his gaze and looked back down at the ground.

He still looked the same, with his dirty-blonde hair and tall, muscular build, those piercing blue eyes and comforting arms. The sight of him alone made your chest ache and your stomach twist itself into knots at the same time you felt butterflies flying around. You hated that you allowed yourself to care about him so much, that your body still reacted to the sight of him even after not seeing him for so long.

"Uh...we'll give you two a moment," Sam awkwardly cleared his throat, leaving the room with the others.

When you glanced back up again you could see just how much being away had affected his overall appearance: his bright blue eyes that glittered with authority and passion had lost their light, red-rimmed and bloodshot with dark circles underneath that indicated it had been days since he last slept.

"I'm sorry, I know it took a while, but I'm here now. I missed you."

"I missed you, too," you said quietly. You swallowed hard, feeling the familiar sting to your eyes as you struggled to keep your tears at bay.

He sighed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close like you'd done to him before all those months ago, gently rubbing your back. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it still fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his and you sunk into his warmth, his touch making the room feel warmer somehow. His arms that held you were soft and comforting, yet strong and firm at the same time, and the feeling of being so close to him was so dizzying to the point it made your head spin. But you didn't want to let go, so you held onto him as tight as you possibly could.

During the time of his absence, when the majority of your days were spent wandering around the compound alone, you taught yourself to ignore the pressing feeling in the back of your head, the way you felt as if there was some void in your heart that could only be filled by him and him alone. Day by day you attempted to convince yourself that no, you weren't falling in love with him, no, you weren't supposed to fall in love with him because it'd only destroy you in the end.

Yet you still did.

Always playing the part of promoting liberty and justice for all, Steve believed his sole purpose was to inspire and empower others to make the world a better place, blending into the mantra of 'a star-spangled man with a plan.' He always planned things out, always knew what he was doing.

So when he realized as he was holding you there in his arms, that he'd fallen in love with you, he didn't have a plan. And frankly, it terrified him.

He didn't have a plan, so he just decided to go with what his gut told him.

Steve brushed a stray hair that fell across your face and tucked it behind your ear. You looked up in surprise, heart hammering against your chest as his thumb brushed ever so gently against your cheek before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

That's all he needed to do in order to eradicate all the anger, all the pent-up frustration and other emotion inside of you, to make you forgive him for every little thing that he's done to break your heart because there was nothing he could possibly do to make you love him any less.

"I love you," you mumbled as you pulled away, resting your head against his broad chest.

"I know. I love you too."

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hiddles-evans-hallucinations · 4 years

Text

How Did We Get Here? - 4

Summary: After being in a secret relationship, (Y/N) and Chris are faced with sneaky fans taking pictures of them spending time together and the press went crazy. Chris had enough of hiding.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut

Warnings: AGE GAP and seeeexxxyyy timeeeee.

Note: I am so excited to write, writing has been my passion for so long and writing with my boo bear in it makes me more happy!! Thanks to the beautiful @joannaliceevans-fanficblog for reblogging and helping others to check my writings!!! love her already. Hope you like this one hehehe. Oh and a lil comedy :p just for fun

*gifs are not mine*

PART 5

After so many interviews before the Premiere in Chicago, me and Chris has been staying at the same hotel, we were informed that some fans asked the receptionist if we stay together in the same room or separate rooms, but the hotel know what answers to give.

Before I was known, I already loved my life, I’m a normal girl, I enjoy life fully and I never ask for anything in return when doing things for others. I’m thankful in where I am, but I have always been known as a private person and even my family couldn’t get anything out of me.

‘(Y/N/L/N) and Chris Evans having breakfast together at the Ritz Carlton’

I scroll down to the comments on Instagram, smiling of how red my cheeks are looking at Chris who talks about taking me to his date with Dodger.

- ‘the fact that she’s bareface and her cheeks is all red looking at him kills me. They are so cute’

- ‘OMGGGG LOOK AT HOW HE’S SMILING AND SHE’S ALSO SMILING BACK AT HIM IM DEADD!’

- ‘I can’t believe they’re hiding all of they’re cuteness.’

- ‘she got taste, i love her, she’s one of us now.’

I laughed as Pammy surprised me by looking at what I’m reading behind my shoulder, startling me. “Oh my god,” I said, placing my hand over my chest,

“Oh, so you’re creeping on Instagram for your so secret relationship?”

“Stop it, I’m just, you know, trying to- actually I don’t know, it just came up on my explore so, don’t judge me.”

“Judge you for what?”

Chris came out of the room, looking rough, his hair is uh... everywhere, messy, shirtless. Pammy’s jaw dropped open, “Oh...” I lightly elbow her, shooting her a look. She put her hands up, “Chris, I got you spinach-apple smoothie.” Pammy hands him as he scratches the back of his head.

“Thanks,”

Chris looks at me, “Are you going somewhere?” my eyes widens at him.

“We have a press interview today, remember?”

“Oh... no.”

I laughed as I walk towards him and wrap my arms around him, he lifts me up and kisses me, I peck him over and over with my legs wrapped around him then squish my face with him like a little baby. “Get ready, bebe, we have work to do.” I said to him making him smile.

“You’re so cute, I might just take you to bed for a bit.”

I flushed.

“Stop, I would, but... we don’t really have much time.”

He smirks. “I can make it quick,” he leans as he said it so only I can hear him, my cheeks heats up more as I can picture myself with my cheeks way too red.

“I get to you this much huh?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh no, it’s just hot in here all of the sudden.”

He laughed.

“Come, on, we gotta gooooo.” I whine.

“Okay, but come shower with me?”

“I already have my makeup on.”

This time he’s the one that rolls his eyes at me. “Then, accompany me.” before I can say anything, Pammy said, “The interviewer’s here, I’m going to help them set everything up.”

Chris said nothing but, “Perfect! Thank you, Pammy!” he shuts the door with his foot.

“You’re coming with me, bebe.”

I bury my face on his shoulders as he carries me to the bathroom. He sits me down on the sink counter as he look deep into my eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” the smile appears immediately as I look away shyly.

“You’re so easy to love, (Y/N).”

“Am I really?”

He nodded as he tucks a hair behind my ear and smile. “Now.. where were we?”

I arches my brow. “You, shower.” I pointed at the shower with my head.

“No, that’s not where we left things,”

“Oh yeah, you might take me to bed but we can’t so you’re gonna shower and we’re going to work-”

Chris shuts me up by kissing me deeply, passionately that my hands find their way around his neck as he pulls me closer as if we’re not close enough. He moans against my lips and when he was about to went down, I stop him causing him look up to me, confused.

I jump off the counter, moving him to lean against the counter and pulls his pants down.

I can hear him take a breathe but I ignore him as I put him in my mouth and suck my cheeks in. “Baby..”

I smiled, knowing that I’m the one that gets to him this much now.

I work my tongue around him inside my mouth as he grips the counter and continuously moan.

I tease him by slowly taking him out and lick every inch of him. I stood up just to kiss him and slowly trail my lips down to continue on sucking him and feeling his body trembles.

“(Y/N)..”

I fasten my speed as he grips my shoulder.

“Baby.. I’m.. Com-”

The same warmth enters my mouth as he looks down at me, waiting for what I’m gonna do.

The taste of him slides down to my throat as I stood up looking at him, he’s in shock.

“What? You’ve never seen a girl do this to you?” I joked as he wipes my mouth and pulls me close to him.

I can see my lipstick are gone but I could care less. “I have, but it’s you, I’m with you, I don’t need to remember if other women have done this to me or for me before. You’re mine, baby.”

I smiled.

I find it really sexy that he’s wiping my mouth after and holding me close, I love that about him.

“Hmm..” I give him a slight kiss as he slaps my butt causing me to look at him with my mouth open jokingly.

“Okay, shower, now, we need to go.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I grab my pouch and walk back to the bathroom to do touch ups as he showers behind me. Chris never take his eyes off me, making me blush every now and then.

For the past few months we’ve been together, I love that at the end of the day we’re normal people, we’re just fortunate enough to live a life like this and we never forget where we came from, maybe that’s why I’d like to keep our relationship on the down low where it’s just us and our closest people.

. . . .

We walk into the meeting room of the hotel that was set up for the interview, Pammy looked at me with a oh-okay-glowing-what’s-up-now look, I shot her a look with my wide eyes, she respond with okay-I’ll-zip-it look with her hands slightly up in defeat.

I changed my outfit, I was wearing a black midi casual dress, since it’s looking not so appropriate anymore, I have to iron it again but since I don’t have the time, I put on a black and white stripes long sleeved shirt and a black fitted trousers that stops in my ankle with a flat shoes.

I redid my hair, curl it a little bit and I was done, I don’t want people to take the note, oh yeah they just did it.

Professional on both, (Y/N)! I said to myself.

My inner self seems to laugh at me.

Both on what? Sexually and in career wise? She said.

I want to roll my eyes, but Chris’ hand lands on my back as we said hi to everyone. “I thought you’re gonna be late.” the interviewer said to us laughing.

I huffed. “Oh no, almost though, I just had to eat first.” Chris immediately turns his head to me.

I added, “I thought you’re already here, seems like we’re soulmates.” I smiled at him, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your meal.” the interviewer smiled at me.

“Thank you, I did, big meal to boost my endorphins just right.”

We sat down with Seth, the interviewer talking about the movie a little bit but other than that he said he just wants to get to know us, he wants to make the interview a little bit different than others.

Chris was thrilled when he brings up Disney movies.

“Okay, I have questions, you two have to say your name or the other person to answer.”

“Oh.. Okay.” I said.

Seth asks, “Who is most likely to get a complaint because they laugh too loud?”

“Chris.”

“Me”

Seth gasps, “Really?” I nodded making a face where I scrunch my nose. “I have to go to his trailer cause he was on the phone with Anthony Mackie, he laughed so hard I couldn’t sleep.”

“So, you’re the one who complained?”

“Oh yeah, would do it again.”

They all laughed.

“Who is most likely to be on a comedy tv show?”

“Me.”

“Me.” I look at Chris, raising my brow. “You?” I said, rolling my eyes after.

“What is he not funny?” Seth laughs as he ask me that. “I mean,” I gesture my palm left to right, giving him the he’s-so-so response.

Chris added (gif), “She thinks I’m funny, she just thinks she’s funnier.”

“You did admit I am funnier.”

Seth squints his eyes suspicious. “Did you Chris?”

“No.”

I laughed, placing my hand on his shoulder as I bury my face on my arm.

“Who is most likely to take the job as a stripper?”

“CHRIS!”

Chris stood up, arms wide open and tries to give me a lap dance. I squealed in laughter trying to get his butt out of my face.

He hugs me after as I was still laughing with tears started to build up in my eyes from laughing too hard. “Oh my god.” I said. The whole room was filled with nothing but laughter and cameras clicking from their phones.

“Gotta love this guy.” I said before Seth ended the interview.

“Love this gal.” Chris added.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris #chris evans story #chris evans series #chris evans #hope you like it #i love making this #AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

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seijch · 4 years

Text

tsukishima kei | dooms•day

tsukishima kei + gender neutral!reader

genre. romance, angst, bits of fluff

word count. 1.9k

recommended listening. matt maltese - as the world caves in

synopsis. how would you spend the next twenty-four hours, knowing that they would be your last?

12:00 AM | 23:59:59

The clock strikes midnight.

You exchange a glance with Tsukishima.

This is the beginning of the end, it says. Are you ready? it asks.

The meteor is en route to Earth. The planet has less than twenty-four hours left to live.

You haven’t been able to sleep much these days, and Tsukishima can’t blame you. Instead, you stay up together, a movie you’ve seen countless times playing in the background. “Can we watch something else? I don’t know how keen I am on making this one of the last movies I ever see,” he drawls.

Your relationship has always required mastery of reading between the lines, peering through the hairline cracks in words and actions for their true meaning. You called him out on it, once.

(“You’re like a nut,” you’d blurted, legs draped over his lap as you scrolled through your timeline.

There had been a beat of silence before he deadpanned, “What.” When you glanced up from your phone, he had been giving you a look.

Looks, in your relationship, are quite commonplace. Tsukki’s full of them: hard looks that express his exasperation, split seconds of pure adoration he thinks you don’t notice, and even capital-L Looks that lead to sweaty bodies against smooth bedsheets.

That night, his look had been one of muted curiosity. “You know,” you pressed on, sitting up to close the distance between you, “like how squirrels break open nuts to get to the good stuff.” To prove your point, you had knocked on his skull and stifled a laugh at his grimace.

“You’re calling me a nut?” His mouth was set into a hard line. “You could’ve just as easily called me an oyster, say I’m a pearl or some sappy shit like that.”

“First of all, no,” you frowned, having switched to carding your fingers through his hair. “When have we ever been into sappy shit? Besides, I think it’s funnier to call you a nut. So I will.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more in my life,” he said, leaning into your touch regardless.

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that.” You had taken the victory that night, planted a chaste kiss to his lips as your prize.)

You know he doesn’t mind the movie; in fact, you think he enjoys it. You don’t know how to tell him that a numb feeling’s set in, ghosting over your fingertips. You don’t know how to tell him that the two things keeping you steady are his arms around you and the movie (which, really, isn’t even that good) playing.

So you don’t. The way he holds you tighter than ever tells you everything you need to know.

3:16 AM | 20:44:15

“I take it we’re not sleeping tonight?” Tsukishima asks, long fingers wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate.

You blow on your own mug before responding. “What’s the point? We’ll be asleep soon enough.” Forever, you don’t add.

“Fair enough.”

The first sip is sweet in all the right ways. You cherish the little joy, the small victory, while you can.

5:49 AM | 18:11:57

The sun rises on the last day you’ll ever see. You and Tsukishima watch it crawl up the high-rise buildings around you, darkness giving way to dawn. You’ve never understood the appeal of chasing after sunrise and sunset, but you start to wish you hadn’t taken something so constant for granted.

Tsukishima’s fingers graze yours as they hang from the railing of your apartment’s balcony. His fingers toy with yours, intertwined without your palms touching. He does this often, and you’re sure you can map out the callouses of his fingers, each line of his palm by touch alone.

It’s as the sky bleeds from orange to pale blue that it hits.

Your eyes sting with incoming tears at the finality. You won’t finish college. You won’t get to live your dreams, move into a proper house. You won’t get to see Tsukki, your Tsukki at the end of the altar, waiting for you to join him.

“I love you,” you choke out, voice strained. It’s the only thing you can think to say at a time like this. “I mean it. I always mean it, but—” You try to stress your words, make it absolutely clear that you’ve never meant anything like you mean this. “I mean it. I love you, Kei.” You retract your hand from his, needing both to wipe away your tears.

When you turn to look at him, he’s crying too.

1:57 PM | 10:03:17

You’ve just gotten off the phone with your family, the first and last people you called when the news of the world’s end got out. When was the last time you saw them? Saw your friends? The time you have left isn’t enough to see them one last time.

Your fist trembles as you press it against your lips, eyes sore but stinging with tears kept at bay.

Despite this, the sun shines cheerily outside. It’s a beautiful day, everything washed in afternoon light. You figure this is better than spending your last day with the sky painted dreary gray.

Tsukishima comes up behind you, arms rubbing circles into your upper arms. “I just got off the phone with Akiteru.”

“How is he?”

“With our mom.” You know he wishes he could be there too, wants for it like nothing else. You can only dream to grant his eleventh-hour request.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” And then, “Let’s get out of here.” You turn to face him, surprise clear as day. (You suppose that if anything can drive a homebody outside, it’s the end of the world.) “I figure you don’t wanna die in our shitty apartment.” His hold on your arms drops, instead taking his hands in yours. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere.”

You scan the apartment one last time. (There really seems to be a lot of lasts today, but you figure it can’t be helped.) This was your home for months, despite the leaky faucet and chipped wallpaper.

Every corner oozes with memories, more than enough to make your heart feel as though it’s fit to burst. Tsukishima’s thumb caresses the back of your hand. That’s right. Your other home, the one you can’t afford to lose now, is right in front of you.

You get dressed.

7:25 PM | 4:35:18

The sun sets on the last day you’ll ever see. You think that you like sunsets a bit more than sunrises; less waking up early (or staying up late), a view that gives you more than enough bang for your buck. You watch the way orange seeps through the sky in reverse, dusk giving way to the dark of night, head resting on Tsukishima’s shoulder.

It’s quiet. You’ve parked somewhere secluded, hidden from prying eyes. With less than four hours before certain death, you get nostalgic for how far you’ve come since your time at Karasuno.

“Thank you,” you say, breaking the silence. “I’m glad you were such a smarmy bastard in high school.” He chuckles, the sound a pleasant rumble that singlehandedly warms you from the inside out.

“I’m glad you liked to think you could top my scores,” he replies.

(It had taken you two years to finally, finally beat his exam scores. Having no reason to talk to Tsukishima after that, you disappeared from each other’s lives. It had taken you a month to piece together the reason you felt so strangely empty without his signature smirk to rile you up.

“You like me,” you’d said, sitting backwards in the desk in front of him as he ate lunch. You didn’t phrase it as a question; why would you, when you knew the answer?

“You got what you wanted already, didn’t you? Why are you still here?” You were a thorn in Tsukishima’s side, as he’d repeated time and time again (both in private and to your face). Even still, he had to admit that the past month without you had been...boring. (He also had to endure Yamaguchi’s endless questions about you, drilling your absence into his head even further.)

“Do you want me to be nice, or do you want me to be honest?”

“Just spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

“Unfortunately,” you’d prefaced this with a long-suffering sigh, “I feel the same way. You might be an emotionally constipated asshole, but what I’m saying is…” Your fingers drummed on his desk, invading his space. “Let’s go on a date.”

Shaking himself from his stunned silence, he’d replied, “Sure.” In the moment, it had sounded nonchalant, but you had a feeling his hands were getting clammy.

Truth be told, you had it on good authority (Yamaguchi, who’d gotten sick and tired of bearing witness to almost three years of you two dancing around your feelings) that he felt the same you did. It was Yamaguchi’s words that gave you the confidence to confront Tsukishima at all.

“I’ll see you on Saturday, then. This better not be boring, Tsukishima,” you teased, snatching his chopsticks to steal a bit of his meal. “After all, you’re with me now. If you’re going to take me out, it better be in style.”

You had the audacity to throw a wink at him before walking back to your classroom. You get an eye roll in response, but take great pleasure in the way he had gone red to the tips of his ears, knowing that you’ve won.)

9:31 PM | 2:29:20

“I love you.”

“I know.” Silence. “I love you too.”

“I know.”

11:59 PM | 0:00:59

It’s bright, like a fallen star, all white-hot and angry. You think it’s beautiful in its own way, gawk at it with your mouth hanging open. “Here it is,” he whispers, squeezing your hand so tight it almost hurts. “The end.”

You cup his cheek, turn his head to look at you. You try to steel yourself. Inhale. Exhale. (Your breath comes out shaky, but neither of you acknowledge it.) “I guess this is goodbye.” You were supposed to sound strong, but your voice comes out small, weak, broken.

And for once, he is the first to cry.

“Not yet.” His voice cracks. “It’s not goodbye yet.” He wipes your tears (when did you start crying?) away, touch so fragile you think he’s sure you’d shatter. Maybe you will.

“It doesn’t have to be goodbye,” you offer. It’s hollow; neither of you have been under the delusion that this was anything but. “It can be a see you later.”

Tsukishima just shakes his head, wearing a broken smile of his own. And then he’s kissing you with such fervor that you swear you’ve never been kissed before, not like this. The way he sucks your bottom lip between his, pulls you flush against him, makes you dizzy. This is my goodbye, he says with more than words.

11:59 PM | 0:00:01

Your relationship has always required mastery of reading between the lines, peering through the hairline cracks in words and actions for their true meaning.

But now, both of you are straightforward as can be, stripped down to your bare selves. The meteor sets fire to the inhibitions and walls both of you created, and the flames lick at your skin as your tears—or his—dampen your cheeks.

If you’re going to take me out, do it in style, you’d said to him, once.

So he does.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima scenario #tsukishima reader insert #tsukishima angst #tsukishima fluff #(can i call it that LMAO)#kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu fic #HOOO boy the concept of this fic took my brain hostage and wouldnt stop until id finished writing #the first draft of this was absolutely nasty but the finished product isnt actually so bad? i think i kinda like it #i decided to split the 11:59 segment into two right before posting as i read it for the last time before it got sent out to the world #and tsukki might seem a little ooc bc im still finding my footing characterization wise #but weve seen him be passionate about things and raise his voice tho its rare #and i think that the situation calls for a bit more passion from him so i gave it to him at the end #i was going to expand the kiss but i think that wouldve been too much of a tone shift #anyway if youve read this far into my tags i hope you have a good day :-)#i also have no idea if meteor is the right term for it -- i think (and hope) it is but Who Is To Say

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