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gettinshiggywithit · 1 year

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!The BSD Cast With A Reader Who Has A Stalker!

Scenario:- what the bsd characters would do if their s/o had a stalker

Characters included:- dazai,chuuya,kunikida,atsushi,yosano,ranpo,akutagawa (romantic pairings) kenji,kyouka and the tanizakis(platonic pairings)

Genre:-fluff/comfort?

Tw:- mentions of bein stalked and well,a stalker,Teeny bit of cussing

W/C:-2.4k

A/N:-yes this is inspired by my real life no i will not elaborate~

↪️Osamu Dazai

If you tell dazai that you have a stalker,he’d probably joke about it at first.

But when you tell him how serious it had gotten and how stressed and scared it makes you,

He takes it way more seriously.

He obviously has a plan,our little manipulator.

And soon enough he’s threatened the stalker with an entire stack of private and compromising information.

They stop after that.and youre finally at peace.

When you thank dazai he first brushes it off as it havin been nothing at all,but ends it with a serious statement of how no one messes with the people he cares about.

As we know,the worst decision dazai’s enemies could make is making themselves his enemies.

And That stalker realized that the hard way.

↪️Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya,unlike dazai is a little less calculated.

He has absolutely no issue with using force to make his point clear when he’s pissed(or not.) and you having to live in a constant state of fear because of this asshole is WAY more than enough to piss him off.

He finds the bastard(being a port mafia exec. Really did have its fair share of perks) and pays them a visit himself~

He comes home later that day looking rather pleased with himself and when you ask what he did,

He just says that he took care of it.

You know chuuya like the back of your hand,so you also know that he definitely has no problem with defending what matters to him,no matter what the cost.

So to protect your subconscious,you don’t question him further.

But he sees that youre a little uneasy so,he clarifies that the person isn’t dead.

Theyre just… permanently out of commission and chuuya’s slight look of annoyance tells you that he really didn’t kill the stalker.

You run into his arms and thank him and he hugs you back while pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

You unwind with wine and dinner and enjoy your first carefree night in quite a while.

↪️Doppo Kunikida

Kunikida is outraged!

How dare these delinquents disrupt your daily life schedule like this!

He MUST do something about it.

Kunikida obviously doesn’t want it to turn into anything too confrontational(not because he wouldn’t fight for you,but because the clean up would require more energy and time than this bastard deserves)

So he calls up katai and has him dig up anything about this stalker of yours.

Soon kunikida has more than enough information to come up with the perfect plan of action.

Blackmail really isn’t his style so he goes for a little something different.

He calls up the stalker and while the bitch is scared shitless,he drops little bits of the info he’s gathered in conversation.(okay yh I lied.blackmail it is.we stan petty kunikida in this house~)

At this point he’s having a conversation with himself so he knows the stalker is definitely shaking with fear.

So he ends the call with a final statement,

“I suggest you leave y/n alone if you know whats good for you.you wouldn’t want to ruin your entire life now would you?not that you haven’t already by sinking to the level you are already at, of course.”

And he’s met with a shakey “yes,sir…” before the line goes silent permanently.

He let you know you can stop living in fear and you two go over your next days routine.(mans had only allocated a certain amount of time to solve that entire thing okay :’))

↪️Atsushi Nakajima

Atsushi is a gentle soul,bless him,really.

But he was worried af when you told him about your stalker.

He’s determined to keep his s/o safe!

He asks ranpo for help,and is turned away(‘not botheredddd’ ßRanpo’s reply)

So he goes to dazai next.

Dazai obviously suggests blackmail.

Atsushi doesn’t wanna pull a dazai on this one.

So he just calls the number(dazai has it tapped and is using ranpo{he was bribed with candy} to track it) you’d blocked and when he gets a rude response tauting him;daring him to ‘actually do something about it’ he loses it!

Who does this asshole think he is?!

Atsushi fires back saying that he really will and when the stalker cuts the line laughing and repeating that atsushi wouldn’t do shit, he really is ready to go deal some damage.

He walks out into the main area of the ADA to see dazai sitting at his desk with a shit eating grin oh his face,a piece of paper with an address scrawled across it between his middle and pointer fingers.

“here you gooo atsuuushiiiii~~~” he says

Atsushi thanks him and takes off to take care of it.

He comes back in about 2 hours and when you ask him what he did,he simply says that he taught the asshat a lesson on respect!

You get a letter the next day from your stalker and to your surprise,it’s an apology letter which specifies that they’ll never bother you again.

You thank atsushi with a little peck to the lips and hes a complete blushing mess.

We love this fluffy puddy tat(that’s tweety for pussy cat {wan atsushi in the background :- IM A TIGER!})

↪️Ranpo Edogawa

Absolutely obliterates the stalker.

He was bored anyway and you bein in distress was definitely enough to get him to try something.

He too calls up the stalker,but instead of airing out current or recent dirty laundry , he goes straight for their most sensitive and embarrassing childhood and adolescent memories.

How he knows all of this baffles you

But such is the wonder that is ranpo edogawa.

And finally he ends his call with.

“oh and say hi to all the people I put in jail! You’ll be goin there in 3….2….1” and sure enough the police were at the stalker’s door.and they were taken away.

Your praise and thanks have ranpo beaming because as we know,he lives for the applause :”)

Serves em right for not knowing who they were messing with tbh.

↪️Ryunosuke Akutagawa

Akutagawa is peeved to say the least.

Why were such vermin even allowed to live on the same earth as him??

he definitely takes care of it.

Swiftly and elegantly might I add~

Rashoumon leaves the stalker permanently disabled once aku pays them a little visit.

What a waste of space.

He totally roasts the stalker on how useless and pathetic they are.

And finally leaves them with a last threat for initiative “leave y/n alone,or else ill come back and finish what I started.i cannot guarantee that you will survive.but it will certainly be painful.am I making myself clear?”

He’s met with a very petrified piece of shit and he finally kicks said piece of shit away from himself before leaving swaggering away with his hands in his pockets and a bored look in his eyes.

When he arrives back at your apartment he tells you that you’ll be fine. And if they dare inconvenience you again,to let him know.

You really are grateful for your Mafioso boyfriend

↪️Akiko Yosano

Yosano is pissed

But also delighted!

She’s not delighted cos you have a stalker btw!

Shes delighted cos now she can use her ability on someone….or not ;3

Whatever it is,she gets to play mad scientist with someone she has absolutely no remorse for

Comes back home covered in blood and reassures you that she took care of it,with a shit eating(and slightly concerning ) grin on her face.

You know akiko wouldn’t have killed the stalker…but um youre not totally sure.

When you ask her she sadly says that theyre alive,but when she turns to walk away she whispers a muffles “barely” under her breath.

Either way,shes satisfied with herself~

Very slay of her tbh ;3

↪️Michizou Tachihara

Goes after em.

Buddy grabs his pistols and goes to take care of business himself!

He doesnt care abt protocol in that moment,but he also knows that mori wont give a shit cos its a personal matter

So he’s technically in the clear.

Once at the stalkers door,he knocks twice to get their attention and when her hears the sound of a hand landing on the handle,he shoots and gets em right in the hand!

And in the process of doing so,hes shot through the lock,so he kicks the door open{effortlessly} and confronts the stalker who recognises him immediately (i mean obvs)

Tachihara is a part of the port mafias elite kill squad so he’s no stranger to a messy job,but for the sake of your subconscious, he keeps it comparatively clean,shooting through the stalker’s limbs and beating the shit outta them too!

He cleans up into new clothes at gin and ryunosuke’s before comin back home to you(he knows that if you see him all bloodied up the questions will start)

And let me clarify that mans did this without your knowledge so while you’re watchin a movie that night,you do not know what he did but you find out the next day and immediately know it was him

His thank you was a little kiss on the lips that somehow managed to convey your total appreciation for him in only 3 seconds~

↪️Higuchi Ichiyou

With the way she is when it comes to akutagawa,we know that higuchi would be protective of the ones she loves

So when her s/o is bein terrorised by a stalker,you bet your ass shes gonna take action

Step one: identify the stalker

She covertly follows you around and when she sees the person you’d described to her,she begins to tail them.

When they get home she calmly and quietly walks upto their door and knocks

She then winds back her arm and waits until-

BAM the stalker is met with a face full of fist!

She then takes advantage of their confused state and tackles them to the ground

She bends one arm behind their back and when they try harder to resist,a sickening crunch and a howl of pain is let out

And now that she has their attention,she makes her threat: “leave y/n alone or else you’ll have to deal with the entirety of the port mafia next!”

Ofc this threat doesnt mean anything~

like I mentioned earlier,mori doesn’t give a shit about personal matters so theres no way anyone (else) from the pm would be knocking on ur stalkers door.

But they didnt know that~

So they beg and promise not to bother you anymore.they promise to leave you alone forever.

Higuchi knows that they’re being honest,the fear in their voice is a dead giveaway

So she gets up but then shoots two bullets On either side of the stalkers face,barely missing.

“I hope ive made myself clear” are the last words she mutters before disappearing into the night

And just like that,you were never bothered again.

↪️Yukichi Fukuzawa

President fukuzawa isnt really confrontational unless he has to be

So when you tell him that you have a stalker terrorising you,

He knows what to do

He asks ranpo to deduce the location of said stalker and withink seconds,he does

Then,fukuzawa writes a letter.

A very threatening letter

Your stalker knows all about him

Ofc they would he’s your significant other !

So when they see the letter addressed to them from fukuzawa,they are immediately intrigued

And after reading the letter,theyre fuckin FILLED with fear

They know how powerful and skilled the president of the GODDAM armed detective agency is

So they immediately decide to leave you alone

Death by katana wasnt something they wanted to experience.

So when you tell him how the stalker wasn’t bothering you anymore and how you knew he had to have done something about it,he just replied with

“All i did,

Was write a letter.”

↪️Kenji and kyouka(platonic.i aint writin romantic stuff for them yall.)

↪️Kyouka Izumi

Demon snow to the rescue.

One visit from kyouka’s ability and you’re sure to be okay for the remainder of your life.

The threat of being cut up by a katana wielding demon really does deter people from being creeps~

↪️Kenji Miyazawa

Finds them by using his many connections around town and beats em shitless.

They cant even tell which way’s up when he’s done with em.

Remember, his family motto is "If a cow defies you, strike it with something handy."

Suffice to say you were NEVER bothered by that stalker ,or any other stalker, after that!

↪️Tanizaki Naomi and Tanizaki Junichirou

You were best friends with naomi and thereby junichirou,and while their relationship weired out a lot of new people at the agency,you’d really never cared much abt it

So when you told them abt your stalker issue they were both worried.

This wasnt good for you or your mental health

So junichirou took it upon himself to take care of the situation

Naomi had you distracted the entire day with a whole day out of shopping and just FUN

Meanwhile junichirou had found the stalkers address and confronted them himself

As we all know,a pissed off junichirou is a SCARY junichirou

So you can bet the stalker tried to run

But as usual,

LIGHT SNOW TO THE RESCUEE

After the stalker thinks they’ve gotten away he appears behind them,with a gun pointed straight at their temple.

He threatens to pull the trigger (he wouldn’t)

And when the stalkers begs him not to,promising to leave you alone.

He scoffs and fires a bullet that just manages to graze their cheek.

He then lets the illusion break away as he disappears himself

After that,youre happy and you feel so FREE

You’re back to your old self again and the tanizakis fist bump to their success!

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but these stories? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please

Taglist open for anyone interested!

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pastelcheckereddreams · 4 months

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Sooo, I bought the Lotus Tower model kit and, of course, I went overboard making it as accurate as possible to the show. To no one's surprise, I'm guessing? 😅

For reference, this is what the completed model (sans horses) looks like without most* of my alterations:

*The awning material and decoration is my only alteration at this point, as I didn't like the fabric they included with the kit.

I had so much fun with this model! It is well-made, has moving parts, and is actually fairly easy to put together, with most parts just clicking into place. It even has furniture details inside!

Let me know what you think! Have you got the kit? How are you finding the building process to be? If you want to hear a more detailed review of it and see my progress shots and details of my own creative additions, click below:

First, unboxing!

This is how the box arrives. I ordered it from CPOP Universe and it arrived well-packaged and undamaged within a matter of weeks.

Along with the kit itself - which as you can see consists of a stack of laser-cut sheets coded from A-Q, and numbers detailing the specific parts - you receive a coaster (ceramic, backed with cork, and very pretty), little standees of difanghua, a letter styled after the ones difang recieve from Li Lianhua, and a replica of the booklet of yangzhouman techniques.

The process:

The first floor came together pretty quickly:

Glue is provided, but isn't necessary for a lot of the pieces, as I found the measurements for a lot of the joints to be pretty snug and able to hold together themselves. Glue is necessary for some parts, though, particularly for areas such as the step up to the rear sleeping area. Strong glue. Here is what the fist floor looks like:

Fitting on the ceiling turned out to be the hardest part of most of the build. All of the holes on the second floor had to line up with every joint on top of the walls and doors.

The next big step I encountered was a curiosity. How to make the rear wall work? There was a curious piece clearly meant to anchor the rope, and a round hole that - much like the doors - meant that this piece was supposed to rotate - and even lock. But I received no instructions on how to achieve that. I found this puzzle (which I like to think was an intentional challenge, given the gadget-orientated FDB) to be a fun challenge. So I won't show you the inner workings and spoil it, but I'll show you the working product:

Next was the rather fiddly job of creating the sail awning. I imagine this will be quite difficult for some as there's no clear indication of how to fix the material in place.

My instinct was to sew it as that is also a craft I have practice in, though granted not everyone who buys this kit will be as comfortable with a sewing needle. The two swatches of fabric provided is also quite prone to fraying, and is quite thick and canvas-like. So, knowing that the awning is a big feature of Lotus Tower, I decided I could do better:

On the left is the provided fabric, and on the right is my own material (an old blouse that I never wore, with patches dyed with my promarker pens).

After that, things should've been an easy home run, as all I had to do was affix the wheels to their axis points and put the horses together. However, quite unfortunately, one of the wheels hadn't been cut out in my kit. I had to cut it out myself with a coping saw, a Stanley knife and much patience😅

It came out looking rough, but nothing a little sanding and a touch up with my promarkers couldn't fix. I also eventually glued the wheel caps to the axis to prevent the wheels popping off every time I touched it, and they all still spin fine (minus the one I had to cut myself, that one's a little sticky😅). Then came the horses, and I was done!

Or so I thought. "Don't you think it looks a little too brown?" said my detail-obsessed brain. "We could do... more...."

And so I did.

My additions:

I used scraps coloured by my blue marker to create the beams of the house, and later coloured the fence posts red.

I made a second sail to hand under the stairs.

I created a second planter box (again, from the scraps and coloured with promarkers - two sets of flowers were included in the kit, so I could put one in each planter.)

And I even created a rain chain using old earring backs, jewellery findings and a chain, spray painted matte black and then painted blue-grey.

To colour the roofs, I likewise painted them a light blue-grey (/brown for Hulijing's kennel), then used a darker blue promarker to roughly add in texture.

I painted the weather vane, and used scraps to add in its missing two cardinal points.

And then finally, I made a winch for the rear wall! It's also easy to turn with the roof on, so I'm very pleased even though it's a little rough looking 😅

Had to gif my video clip because tumblr said boo no to more than one :(

And that's it, that's my latest build! I found this kit very fun, loved the process and seeing Lotus Tower come to life. I also loved adding in all the details to make it just that bit more accurate to the show. My only true criticisms are 1) small design oversights with the base wood colour being a tad too dark imo; the missing arms on the weather vane; and no second flowerbed (although I may be being a tad too pedantic about it 😅). 2) The fact that one of the wheels in my kit didn't get cut out properly (a quality check issue).

Obviously, I made the choice to use a different material than the fabric included so I can't speak to how satisfactory it is. However, if I were ever in the position to give IQiYi direct feedback, I'd suggest they include thinner fabric, and paint (or paint suggestions, as I know model paints aren't usually allowed through customs in these kinds of kits) for the roofs, because (by way of how they're constructed) they're just raw edges of the reinforced card parts - completely uncoloured, despite being a very visual element of the piece.

Thank you for reading this far lol Keep an eye out for more art and craft posts! (I have a Siji Manor set update coming shortly 👀)

#mysterious lotus casebook #lotus tower #莲花楼 #lian hua lou #model kit #model building #my builds #nikkidraws #iqiyi merch #mlc merch #mysterious lotus casebook merch #arts and crafts #li lianhua #li xiangyi #lian hua lou merch #lhl merch #now where do i keep this thing

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drunk-on-dk · 1 year

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TRACK 3: TOUCH TANK | JOSHUA HONG (M)

Track 3 - TOUCH TANK // QUINNIE - playlist linked here

pairing: partner!joshua x fem!reader genre: smut (minors do not interact!), established relationship, moving in together w/c: ~1.7k Summary: Moving in with Joshua was like a breath of fresh air and warm linen.

Explicit Content - Minors DNI, Listeners 18+, NSFW Warnings Below

content warning: no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy; pet names (love); gentle(man) joshua; oral (f. receiving, nothing too crazy but a man's gotta eat!); this is pretty tame, lmk if I missed anything, also not well proofread tbh

a/n: i went through a bit of a writer's block on this and had to change the song, but this was a nice fun change of pace and I hope you all enjoy (:

"He's so pretty when he goes down on me Gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry He tells me he's gentle when he wants to be So I think he wants to be gentle with me"

The smell of fresh linen was almost suffocating, watching Joshua sort and fold your shared laundry made your heart pound in ways you never could have imagined. All you could do was praise yourself for cracking open a window earlier, the slight draft in your living room providing your brain with the oxygen you so badly needed.

“Y/N?” You’re knocked out of your daze when Joshua softly calls your name. His rosebud lips form a soft pout when he realizes you hadn’t heard anything he’s said for the last minute. You cringe slightly when you feel the slight ping of guilt in your chest, you hadn’t been listening to him nor were you helping with the laundry. Nevertheless, you respond with an apologetic hum and soft smile, plopping down next to him where he is sitting on the floor and folding a hand towel.

Cardboard boxes litter all corners of your living room, some are even stacked on the couches, and it’s almost an overwhelming sight. However, anything and everything is exciting when it comes to Joshua. Especially when these boxes contain both of your belongings, finally taking the next step in your relationship and moving into a shared apartment.

Admittedly, moving in with Joshua happened earlier in your relationship than you originally had intended for it to, but there was something different about your relationship with him. He was the perfect gentleman, always catering to your needs, but never overstepping. Honestly, you didn’t believe he was real at first, suspect of his behavior during your first few months of dating, but eventually coming to realize that it really was his true nature.

You spend the next couple of minutes helping Joshua finish the towels, organizing them into their respective piles and wordlessly shuffling through your apartment to store them in their designated closet.

The silence you two share is comfortable, the sound of the breeze and of cars passing by outside your window fills the space in a way that makes your heart swell. The toothy smile that Joshua flashes you as you rejoin him for the final stretch of laundry makes your heart feel like it might really explode.

Joshua smells like a mix of everything, fresh like the air and warm like the linens. His blue button-up is crisp out the laundry - only half the buttons are done up as if he lazily threw on the top - his damp, black hair falls messily onto his forehead, unbothered to style it after spending most of the afternoon moving boxes and testing out the new shower for the first time.

Sensing that your head is in the clouds again, Joshua takes this chance to shake out the bedsheet above both your heads, encapsulating both of you under the thin fabric and making you squeal in surprise.

“Shua!” You shriek when he grabs your ankles, tugging your body closer to his until your bottom hits where his legs are crossed. In one swift movement, he lifts you up onto his lap so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, one of his solid arms holds you close whilst the other keeps the bedsheet tented above the both of you. You’re a giggling mess, knowing that your hair is standing up in all directions from the static, and Joshua’s fingers dig into a ticklish spot on your waist. “Be gentle! You’re going to tear my legs off!”

It’s almost dreamlike, the diffused lighting from white linen that covers you both makes Joshua look prettier than ever, and it takes your breath away once you truly soak in how stunning he is even in this proximity.

His melodic laugh continues to buzz through air as he nuzzles his nose adoringly against yours, his chin jutting out to catch your bottom lip between his teeth almost teasingly before letting go. “I’m gentle when I want to be, love.”

It’s impossible to hide the gasp that escapes your throat, your heart dropping right to your core, and you’re unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. Joshua welcomes your plush lips against his, smirking slightly because he got exactly what he wanted and firmly cupping your cheeks to keep you close.

The air gets hotter beneath the bedsheet, thickening with desire as you two devour each other, kisses now becoming impatient as your hips roll languidly against his. The wet spot in your panties is becoming more obvious, your arousal only growing when Joshua’s tongue slips past your lips, tasting you and battling for complete dominance. You’re greedy, but Joshua can be even greedier.

Joshua lets out a hoarse groan when you grind into him a bit harder, tossing the linen sheet from over your head and repositioning you on the ground where the sheet had crumpled.

“God,” he sighs, looking down at your figure laid out on the ground, he’s still nestled between your legs, but now he has better control from where he is kneeling between you. “So fucking beautiful, Y/N. Can’t believe I’m so lucky.”

“I’m lucky too,” you gasp, your words falling short when his large hands run down your bare thighs, his thick fingers slip under the hem of your shorts and send a spark of heat to your core. He toys with the fabric slightly before he slowly peels them down your legs, discarding the flimsy fabric and scoffing when he sees the darkened patch on your cotton panties.

“Is that so, love?” He teases, his digits rubbing over the damp fabric and making you keen into his touch. The pressure is so light, unlike his usual roughness in the bedroom. Even if he was a gentleman, that didn’t always translate between the sheets.

“So lucky,” you whine when his fingers slip away, no longer providing your throbbing clit with any sense of relief. “Please, Shua, I need you.”

“Need me? Want me to be gentle with you?” He taunts, fingers looping around the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs even slower than he did with your shorts. He’s breathing you in, loving the aroma that’s purely you when you’re finally fully exposed to him.

“Anything,” you mewl, moaning in delight as you watch him descend between the valley of your legs, lips kissing your inner thigh and curious eyes darting up to yours. It’s sinful how he watches your reaction, eyes never leaving yours as he nibbles and trails kisses closer towards your core, broad hands keeping your hips flush against the hard ground.

It feels like ages until Joshua reaches where you need him the most, your chest rising and falling in anticipation until his tender lips reach your clit, suckling experimentally at the bud. You practically cry out at the stimulation, back arching in bliss when he pushes his tongue against your clit and suckles even harsher.

You know he’s satisfied by the way he chuckles against you, eyes lighting up as he watches your face contort in pleasure, small hands grabbing roughly at his hair to encourage him to keep going.

He obliges, tongue licking between your folds and dipping into your sweet nectar. You’re so damn delicious, he’s groaning into your pussy before running his tongue back up to your clit. No longer is he holding your hips down, his hands only gently run up and down your thighs and rubbing the skin soothingly.

Joshua lets you rut your hips against his face, lapping up what he can before his tongue dives back between your walls, using the muscle to slowly fuck your tight hole with all the intention in the world.

When you finally pry your eyes back open, you watch as Joshua continues to lick at your cunt, dark eyes reconnecting with yours and making you babble out praises. It’s so messy, but he looks so fucking pretty. You can’t help but compliment the man who is making you feel this good with just his tongue.

He works expertly, tongue circling deep inside of you as his nose presses against your clit, breathing in your scent and moaning into your walls as he works you closer to your climax. It doesn’t take long for your walls to tighten, your lower abdomin tightening up so much that your muscles begin to quake from the fatigue.

Joshua nuzzles deeper into you, absolutely consumed by the way you taste and how you react, pushing your sopping heat harder into his face. You’re just so soft and sweet that he swears could do this for ages. Joshua almost wishes you weren’t so close, but he just can’t wait for you to fall apart on his face.

His fervor is clear as his tongue shallowly fucks into you, licking back up to your clit and swirling wildly over the bud. This is enough to send you over the edge, walls spasming around nothing but feeling an overwhelming sense of relief as you gush with pleasure. Joshua doesn’t waste a single drop of you, drinking you up as if he was the thirstiest man alive. Admittedly, he had made a bit of goal to not let any of your slick get on the fresh sheets, but he had lost sight of that long ago.

Satisfied, Joshua pulls away when your hips begin to buck from the overstimulation, leaning over your tired form and gently kissing your lips. You shiver upon tasting yourself on him, leaning into his touch as he brushes his hands through your matted hair as he pulls away with a soft smile.

“Why don’t you take a nap, love?” He hums, not allowing for any argument as you begin to protest – God, did you want to suck him off – but there was no sense in arguing when it came to Joshua.

You oblige, just this once, but only because the way he wrapped the linens around your body like a burrito after redressing your bottom half was too endearing to protest. So was the way he created a makeshift pillow out of a throw blanket, placing the plush fabric beneath your head and coaxing you to nap whilst he finally finished up the laundry.

When Joshua wakes you up for dinner, you truly realize just how lucky you are, the thought almost knocking the wind out of your lungs completely. Joshua thinks the same as you stare back at him with the most adoring eyes.

Now all you can think about is how breathtaking it will be to wake up to him every day.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #svthub #joshua hong smut #hong jisoo smut #hong joshua smut

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astyrial · 2 months

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a diner non-date osamu miya x gn!reader (fluff) synopsis: you go to a new restaurant together word count: 1.2k warnings: none masterlist | requests are open

"we have to try the place, oh so great cooking connoisseur," you lean up against osamu, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead.

he lets out a sigh, shoulders dropping as he hears yet another attempt to get him to a new western-style restaurant. from the taco bar to an insane dish called 'meatloaf', he's seen it all. making him slightly worried to try a cheeseburger with more items stacked on it then one hand can count (especially when mcdonald's is one of his only references).

you raise your eyebrows, a small smile lining your lips. "last time i ask... unless you absolutely love it," you wrap your arm around his, eyes meeting his.

when your gaze meets his cold steel blue eyes, it's hard for him to say no. especially when he can feel you next to him, inches separating your noses, "fine, just this last time. if it absolutely sucks, i'm never trying another thing," osamu looks ahead at the concrete road, unable to look at you so close.

"thank you! from what some of the upperclassman say, the place is delicious," you play with the strap of your backpack, "plus i've already started directing us to the place instead of our usual study place..."

osamu's eyes widen, peeking over at you to see your suspicious smile. he should've known you'd do something like that. he also should've known that walking with you, arms intertwined, makes him unaware of his surroundings. a train could fall out of the sky behind you and the only thing he could focus on is the sun beaming down onto your irises.

you lead him down a couple more blocks until you can spot the sign 'flame flair'. the shop has a little burger sketch next to the kanji, drops of ketchup flying from it. the overall aesthetic of the place feels like an american diner in the fifties. checkered flooring, skates on the waiters, aprons fitted to their waists with a poodle design on the corner.

"this is all so ridicu-" osamu turns to look at you, a sarcastic smile on his face.

when he looks at you, your eyes are twinkling like a nineties anime episode. something about the intrigue of the place, the interesting smells that hit your nose as soon as you enter the door. watching you care about something so delicately as he cares for his own dishes makes him stop in his tracks, "is it as you imagined it?"

"even more so, i mean just look at this place, this is great," you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, pulling him towards a booth seat.

osamu sits across from you, grabbing one of the menus from a little holder. all of the food appear greasy and all too deep fried. he always appreciated a good set of tempura, but the selection seems more than he's ever seen. especially something called a waffle burger...

"i'm absolutely getting a cheeseburger! maybe we could split some fries, 'samu. oooh and a milkshake! like in the movies, you know?"

share a milkshake?? osamu's heart beats quicker as his breath catches. he would absolutely die to share a milkshake with you, even if it's the last thing he did. "we uh, yeah we should. that would be so much uh fun. i might just try a hamburger," osamu looks away from you, hoping not to catch your eye as his face heats up.

you nod in agreement, an almost annoying smile on your lips. it's beautiful, cheeky beyond a doubt, and nearly able to knock osamu on his feet if he weren't sitting. he'd probably finally get the confidence to say something until a waiter came over, an older lady with a little name tag.

"hello and welcome to the flame flair, what can i get you lovely couple?" she asks, holding a small notepad and pen.

the two of you look at each other, eyes wide in surprise. it wasn't the first time the two of you had been called a couple. the first time having been at a bookstore that you dragged him to, another patron loving how your 'boyfriend' was taking you on a book date. the second time when you were cheering him on at a volleyball game against karasuno (the nekoma guy a little too observant).

this time, though, felt a little different. the way you immediately smile to yourself, nodding your head, "amazing, we just had to try this place out!"

"well hopefully you enjoy the food, can i start you off with any drinks?"

"maybe some waters?" you look over at osamu, raising your eyebrows.

"yeah water works for me, that would be great," osamu nods, looking up at the waiter, a slight dusting of blush covering his cheeks.

you had just went along with the idea of dating osamu. to a complete stranger, you made her think that the two of you were dating. osamu can't help but think about whether or not you'd actually go out with him. would the two of you take dates similar to this one? would you hold hands while walking through the school's courtyard? a good luck kiss before his games?

"osamu?? you there?"

"oh yeah, sorry, just thinking about which one would be the best," he looks up at you, a smile crossing his face.

you narrow your eyes at him, eyebrows furrowing. "you don't have to be weird about the dating thing. i just figured it was easier than explaining everything. not that you would be awful to date or anything..." you trail off, unsure how to get your rant to how you want it to come off as.

osamu shrugs, attempting to ignore the 'you wouldn't be awful to date', "yeah, no, i'm seriously not. just trying to decide if pickles would be good on a hamburger patty..."

you narrow your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. however, instead of dwelling on whatever you thought osamu was feeling, you looked back down at your menu. his ability to be both entirely truthful and secretive of how he feels in a situation never ceases to amaze you. one second you're flirting and you're staring into each other's eyes. the next you're playing it off and wondering if he feels the same way.

especially as you sit across from him, watching as he nervously bites at his hangnails. "so what makes you so worried about this hamburger?" you question, looking back as you see the waiter coming back with your waters.

"well last time i tried one, it was from mcdonald's and it honestly wasn't that good. i mean i've had hambāgu, but even as a kid i never enjoyed american-style foods," osamu shrugs, taking in a deep breath as he leans back in the booth.

"okay but those tacos were actually delicious, you can't deny that-"

"okay i really can't, but hamburger just isn't that good. those tacos were like the exception-"

before either of you can say anymore, a smile on your faces, the waiter comes up to you, waters in hand. she takes your orders and for a second, osamu realizes that his fear was never about trying anything bad. but rather he feared sitting across from you, sharing food and drinks and pretending like every little thing he loves isn't sitting right in front of him.

that you can so confidently play with the idea of dating him, that you can offer to share a drink with him without any romantic intentions. ultimately, that scares him, that you'll want to be with him always, but never with him.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader #x fem!reader #osamu miya fanfic

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horseshoegirl · 9 months

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Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 15 - Have You Ever Seen The Rain

📖I need to make two apologies. First, I am so sorry for the long delay. While work was beating my ass, I actually received a rude comment on my Wattpad account for the last chapter that triggered a horrible writer's block. It was taken care of, and it didn't bother me at the time, but I didn't realize how much it affected me until I started to write. Then I decided to use it for inspiration!

Secondly, I'm so sorry for what is about to unfold. This one was planned from the get-go (which is also probably why I struggled because this is the one chapter I dreaded having to write).

(I'll be running from the pitchforks as they come, Woot Woot!)

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child, Shitty family dynamics, Angst, verbal fights, sexist implications, one slap across the face, and Jake being Hangman.

#6k words

Part 14 | Masterlist | Part 16

The story behind how you started ego-checking some of the cocksure pilots at Hard Deck is less interesting than one might think.

It all started with a game.

You weren't kidding when you told Jake you were a library, loving geek who'd rather spend her time deep in the stacks. That was the plot of your entire post-secondary experience. You didn't know how to flirt. You stayed clear of frat parties and cliquey groups. And if a guy tried to flirt with you, you ran for the freaking hills without a backward glance.

You only decided to take that bartending job in building H's damp, dark basement because you were dead-ass broke. But the thing about being a bartender on a University campus, there were moments when you had nothing but time on your hands.

You had to get creative.

Looking back, you would blame the writer-orientated part of your mind that decided to create that little game of making up stories for the people who regularly visited the miserable bar.

The quiet girl, always sitting in the back corner, cramming for a test or writing a paper. Did she like the ambience, or was she avoiding the library? Or was she trying to work up the nerve to ask out one of the bussers, waiting for the perfect meet cute?

Maybe the nerds who gathered every Friday at the arcade-style game consoles playing Pac-Man needed to leave their dorm because Friday nights tended to be the one night everyone liked to party.

Those popular girls sitting around a table with their $5 cocktails, lowcut tanktops, and jean shorts, always on their phones gossiping over the latest social media post from their favourite celebrities. Did they have Regina George in their ranks? Which one was sleeping with the other's boyfriend? How much blackmail did they have on each other?

Which one would murder the other first?

That little game you invented for yourself got you out of your shell. It also made it easier to deal with the persistent football jocks who'd try to flirt with you for a free shot.

Ridley would always get a kick out of it whenever you told her. You'd always imagined her curling up in a ball and kicking her feet back and forth while she squealed in laughter over the phone.

"Be a character in one of your freaking stories. Or better yet, act it out! You're a damn writer, Lizzie."

She was right. So you did.

You'd never forget the laughter of that football jock when your rejection of his flirting attempts to weasel a free drink out of you resulted in his childish reply of, "Well, nobody's perfect, Sweetheart, least of all you."

"I never said I was," you had said with a smile.

You must have said something right because a few minutes later, Penny was introducing herself and chatting you up, asking if you wanted a better job bartending.

You were all too happy to leave. But nothing could have prepared you for the hotshot, ego-driven, and stupidly horny Top Gun pilots who frequented the Hard Deck.

Between remembering their drink order or what side of the room they tended to gravitate towards, you needed more than your little guessing game to figure out their tells. You did pick up little things about them, though.

The WSOs were the kindest; ironically, they stood out in the crowds. Always a kind smile, never a bad thing to say about anyone.

The female pilots were always badass. At least, you thought so. Strong. Always commandeering the room the second they walked in. Always nice, no question about it. But mess with them; you got schooled hard.

They were the literal definition behind the saying, 'Do no harm, but take no shit.'

And with each new group that came in, the male pilots, the single flyers you had called them, paled compared to those jocks. They never changed. A pair constantly vied for first place with each new group that came through the Top Gun program.

Always a pair of males. Women always knew there was more at stake than a freaking trophy.

Those guys talked to you. Well... properly flirted at you.

That's where your little game came in handy. Picking out the little things about them, letting your mind do the creative parts next. It's how you turned Jake down so quickly that first time.

But the guy currently approaching the bar? He did not fit the bill of any regular customer you had seen in a while.

Tourists came and went without question. They stood out like a pack of flies, unsure where to go, with friendly faces and always asking what the best places were. They tipped great, and they never returned.

This guy?

Not a tourist.

He was from out of town. The plaid shirt, jeans and cowboy boots were unusual for a California bar. It was also how he gaped at the walls and ceiling, taking in all the Navy memorabilia Penny had collected over the years. If you hadn't been paying attention, you could have sworn there was a look of distaste on his face with each new item he saw.

But what irked you was the sense of familiarity you couldn't place while looking at him. Blonde hair and a sharp face. Something in how he carried that toothpick between his teeth, not in the way god forbid fucking Tyler had, but as if it was a piece of grass. Also, in the way he walked.

Then he openly leered at a woman's ass as she walked by, and it all made sense.

Ah, a Wham, Bam, Thank You, Mam.

He sat in the empty chair directly in front of you, still watching the women's retreating form. You didn't want to serve him, but a tiny part of you hoped your assumption had been wrong.

It had been a while since you had to rebuff flirty advances; the newer pilots going through the Top Gun Program hardly said anything to you except smile and relay their order.

You suspected Jake was behind it.

"What can I get you?" you smiled at the guy. He slowly pulled his eyes away with a sly grin. The second he caught sight of your face, his mouth stretched even wider as he leaned forward on the bar.

"Your number and the name of a good hotel."

You should have known better.

If it looked like a duck, it quacked like a duck too.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you straightened the line of shot glasses under the bar, not once looking up as you answered him. "Well, I can answer one out of two of those questions, but I'm afraid the only hotels around here are resorts. There is a bed and breakfast about ten minutes down the road that will give you a good deal."

"Will they give me a good deal if I mention your name?"

"Only my friends know my name, and you are simply a customer sitting at my bar wanting a drink?" you raised your eyebrow, tapping your finger against the bar.

He made a show of thinking about it, rocking his shoulders back and forth. He finally nodded, leaning forward to answer you.

"Whiskey. Straight."

You recognized his accent as you reached beneath the bar to grab the bottle. It was more pronounced and slightly more profound, but without a doubt, he sounded like Jake.

Good old southern Texas Charm.

Normally you'd engage in small talk, but you wanted nothing more than to leave this asshole alone. Thinking he'd leave it be after you poured him his drink, you slid the glass forward, then made your way over to the other side of the bar.

The words he called out after you made you stop in your tracks.

"You must get attention all the time. Having your pick of the litter each year."

You whipped around, offended. " Are you calling me easy?!"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying a good-looking woman like yourself, in this place... you clearly aren't sticking around because of the pay."

Oh, you wanted this guy gone. That could have been one of the most double-standard comments you had ever received. Old Liz would have sputtered, maybe run into the back fridge and asked one of the other bartenders to handle it.

You now? No chance in hell. If he were going to give it, you would give it right back. You weren't going to play the boyfriend card. You could fight your own battles, and something told you even if you told him you had a boyfriend, he'd think you were lying. He seemed like the type that wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You've got some nerve." You crossed your arms, matching back to him from the other side of the bar. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not here because I'm looking for attention or have trouble finding a date. You've spent all of two minutes sitting at this bar, talking shit, while I've been fighting the urge to point out your confusion regarding basic anatomy."

He raised his eyebrows at your reply. "My confusion?"

You leaned forward, resting your arms upon the bar, eyeing him sourly. "Is your mouth your asshole, or are you just one?"

It was one of the more cruder remarks you had ever responded with. But this guy was trying to go for gold. Unphased, he leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. "Hey, no need to be aggressive. You should take it as a compliment. I never called you anything derogatory."

You huffed, pushing yourself away from him, rolling your eyes. "Calling me good-looking, then proceeding to say I'm only working here because it's 'easy to access' is still calling a woman a slut. You don't need to say the word to imply the meaning."

You ripped the dishrag from your shoulder, running it under the tap, muttering more to yourself, "There's no way that shit works on women."

"It does on the women back home," he answered you.

"Oh, so are you staying? Don't tell me you're a new pilot at Top Gun."

They'll beat that attitude right out of you.

"Oh, I'm just passing through. I figured I'd scout out the area. I heard this was a Navy bar. Don't understand what all the fuss is about."

You didn't answer him. Opening your mouth only led to him replying, and the quicker he finished his drink, the faster he'd leave. He took your silence as a means to continue.

"Still playing hard to get?"

"You ask me a question. I might choose not to answer."

"Wow. Subtle."

You turned, a hand on your hip. "You can't honestly expect me to speak to you, a complete stranger, after the way you just undermined my job because I'm not giving to your attempts. There is nothing to get."

He smiled, holding out his hand. "George Seresin. There, not a stranger."

Well, shit.

You wanted to hang your mouth open like a fish. You were staring down Jake's brother.

Now you understood Jake's reaction to Janet's warning. His anxious behaviour in the back of his truck. His lost-in-thought stares or the way he couldn't stop looking at you and Sadie when he came home from work this week.

George Seresin was a very unwelcome, uninvited and long-awaited guest.

Something snapped in your stomach, a twinge of weariness that Jake didn't confide in you. Then again, your slight disappointment was overshadowed by something greater.

Clearly, you were fated to ego-check both Seresin brothers while standing behind this bar. Because the idea came without warning, without doubt, or any sense of hesitancy.

George Seresin was at the Hard Deck.

He was right in front of you, trying to flirt with you without any idea who you were.

And he was sitting in the best spot in the entire place.

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You stepped backwards, turning to lean up against the bar. As you did with Jake all those months ago, you took the rag and started to wipe.

"So let me get this straight," you said, dragging the damp cloth around his glass, not once looking up. "I tell you my name in some effort to prove we are not strangers. I'm supposed to forget about your 'comments,' so you can use that good old Texas charm to woo me into your bed with a promise of a good time?"

You finally looked up, George only staring back at you with a heated smoulder.

"Something tells me none of those loose cannons cannot even promise you a good time. A quick roll in the sheets before they let some brass monkey in a fancy suit tell them where to shoot. You look like you could let loose for once in your life."

You froze, losing your grip on the rag and fingers twitching. Scanning Jake’s brother, you leaned against the bar, resting your weight on your elbows, throwing the fabric over your shoulder as you got inside his bubble. You never once broke eye contact as you pinned him down.

George bought it, hook, line and sinker. He was so focused on you and your face that he was oblivious to everything and everyone around him, including how your hand slowly reached up toward the rope hanging from the top of the bar.

The second he looked at your lips, you tugged.

Cheers and music flooded the Hard Deck when everyone heard the distinct ring of the barbell. You guessed the song right away, old habits dying hard. Slow Ride, its distinct beat letting you know Jake was here and he had seen the whole thing.

George reeled back, shocked as a few people came up and slapped him on the back, thanking him. You laughed softly at his reaction, pushing yourself away to help the few customers you knew who would take advantage of the free drink.

You had never rang the bell for someone like him. George Seresin would be the only exception.

"What the hell just happened?" he called after you. You didn't bother turning around, flinging your hand to gesture over your head, "Read the sign!"

George followed the direction of your hand, landing on the piece of wood dangling by the silver chain.

You disrespect a lady, the navy, or you put your cell phone on the bar, you buy a round.

You had already helped a few customers when he managed to tear his eyes away to glare at you heatedly. You turned to face him with a gleeful grin. Instead of asking him which one he thought you rang him out for, you started teasingly singing along to the chorus.

You hadn't done that in a while. It felt good.

"What did he do to warrant that?"

You smiled up at Jake as he approached the bar. He never took his eyes off you as he leaned on his elbow against the top of the bar beside George.

"What do you think?" you laughed at him.

Jake smirked. "I'd say he didn't take no for an answer."

"He did a little more than that. Tell him to put his cell phone on the bar, and he'd get three out of three."

"Ouch," Jake dramatically drawled. He finally turned his head, nodding once in his brother's direction. "Hi, Georgie."

You stiffed a giggle.

George huffed, jutting his chin out in your direction. "This one is trouble."

"Don't I know it," Jake said, looking back at you. "Pulled the same trick on me the first time I met her. Only she didn't ring the bell. Guess I did something right, considering she let me come back."

George glanced between you and Jake several times, and you could see the gears grinding in his head.

"Hi," you beamed at him, walking over and holding out your hand. "Elizabeth Beck. Your brother's girlfriend. I guess we aren't strangers after all."

George stared down at your hand, then gritting his teeth, knocking back another gulp of whiskey. He spat out his following words with the glass still to his lips, "So you are real. Jake, there's no way you're dating her."

You didn't try to hide the snark from your voice as you lowered your hand. "You thought I was imaginary? Sorry to disappoint."

George still chose to ignore you. "What's the matter, little brother? Need your girlfriend to speak for you?"

Jake stiffened, and it took everything in you not to ring the bell once more. Cause you knew if you did, Jake would be the one to help throw George out, and you didn't know what repercussions he could face.

"At least he has a girlfriend," you scoffed. "I can't imagine you've ever had a meaningful relationship with how you treat women."

You spied his empty whiskey glass, grabbing it firmly.

"Wham."

Sliding it across the bar's smooth surface, you caught it in the palm of your other hand.

"Bam."

Reaching into the pocket of your apron with your free hand, you slapped his bill down in front of him, rounds and all, attempting your best version of a Texan accent.

"Thank you, Mam."

Not wanting to waste more time on him, you turned to Jake, slightly worried. Some of you didn't know how to act around Jake when he was like this. When he was so... Hangman.

You gently touched his wrist, murmuring softly, "I'll see you in a half hour?"

He twisted his arm in your grasp, sliding his hand down so he could gently squeeze yours. But his eyes screamed a different, intense, unsettling story. As if he was assessing you for any threat.

"Sure."

You tried not to let it bother you, his non-chalent reply. Trying not to frown, you let go of his wrist to serve another customer, calling out as you walked away, "It was nice meeting you, Georgie!"

Jake watched you go with a slight turn of his head, proud you one-upped his brother but wishing you didn't leave him alone.

He knew why George was here. What he wanted him to do. No amount of smirk, cockiness, or even Hangman, could save Jake from this. George was the grave reminder that no matter where the Navy sent him, whether in California or on the other side of the world, there was no end to the metaphorical leash the 'hell bringer' had on both of his sons.

George scraped his chair back to stand. "Come on, little brother," he gruffed out, tossing his credit card onto the bar. "We need to have a chat."

—-

With Ridley's Jean jacket in hand and your bag, you placed them on the bar as you greeted Jimmy after finishing your shift. "Can you watch these for a second, Jimmy? I'm just going to the bathroom before I find Jake. We're going to pick Sadie up from Penny's and take her out for dinner."

The older man smiled. "She's feeling better?"

You nodded. "Mild concussion. She was okay after a few days and back at school. Bummed about not being able to play in soccer playoffs, though. Hence the trip."

"That girl loves her soccer. What a shame."

"Jake's is making it easier on her. I don't know what I would do without him."

He tilted his head towards the bathroom hall with a knowing grin. "Go get ready for your date."

You blushed, walking away, calling over your shoulder, "It's not a date!"

After freshening yourself up, you took a few moments to stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You saw the famous callsign board hanging on the wall behind you. You scanned the names from the mirror, looking for Jake's, doing a double take when you couldn’t find it. You turned, properly facing the wall.

Like the sign in the bar, it was a piece of wood with the words engraved into the top, “Ladies Beware: Navigate the Hard Deck with Care!” and underneath that, “Pilots who fly solo.” Several metal slots were glued to the surface, designed so she could easily slide plastic slate with a pilot’s callsign into place.

You recognized a few, even Rooster's, though his was listed way further down, out of harm’s way. But Jake's was nowhere to be found.

Then you realized - Penny had taken his name off.

She didn't do that for a lot of people. You could only recall one other instance when she removed a pilot's callsign from that board. She prided herself on it, so much so she never removed Maverick's at the top of the list, even after they got back together.

You needed to tell Jake.

With a hint of a smile, you eagerly walked out of the bathroom to find him. He was standing with George at the pool table, the elder Seresin brother lining up a shot as he spoke. As you approached them, you honed in on Jake, realizing he looked uncomfortable. Stiff, shoulders square, and his fists were clenched tight.

The closer you got, the more you heard of their conversation, and when you heard Sadie's name fall from George's mouth, you froze. Hearing him utter her name, especially in that hardened tone, was a punch to the gut. The urge to hide behind one of the support pillars in the middle of the room at the last second was too great to ignore, and you made yourself as small as possible.

You had stumbled upon a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear. George’s voice accompanied the sound of the eight-ball scattering the balls across the table.

"Come on, man," he said, his tone laced with arrogance. "Think about it. She threw her whole life away for her niece. She's tied down now, and you deserve someone who can give you more than that."

Jake remained silent. George continued, encouraged by his lack of protest. "You're a Navy pilot, for crying out loud. You could have anyone you want. Why settle for a girl with so much baggage?"

You weren’t stupid. You knew enough about George to realize he was the golden child, the favourite used to getting his way. George would only see you as Jake’s attempt to one-up him on something.

“You know why I'm here,” you heard him say firmly. “Dad doesn’t approve. He wants you to know if you continue on with her, you will never be welcomed back home.”

You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your stomach. There would never be a time when you asked Jake to choose you over his family, even with what you knew. You wanted to go out there, but this was Jake’s battle. Storming out to threaten anything but a kick to the balls was out of the question.

But when Jake finally spoke, his words were like shards of ice piercing your skin.

"Yeah, you're right."

A strangled noise escaped from you, a sound of raw pain and disbelief. You clapped your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sob threatening to escape. George’s reply triggered the blood rushing through your ears, the pain in your forearm from your nails biting hard into the skin.

“You know I am,” he laughed, another clack of the pool balls sounding out. “

There was only one way you saw this - Jake played you like he played those other bartenders.

You couldn’t hide any longer. You pushed yourself away from the pillar, swerving around to confront them.

“So Sadie and I were just a game to you?”

Jake turned sharply, shock in his eyes. “Liz,” he held his hands out in front of him. “It’s not what…”

“Not what?” you said heatedly, tears streaming from your eyes. “I heard plenty!”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat, confronted with your beat red face and tears. You were not supposed to hear all that.

The shock on his face was not enough to erase the sting of his words.

"Come on, Liz. You don't understand... it's..."

"What's there to understand, Jake?" you interjected, your voice seething with a volatile mix of pain and anger. "That I'm just another one of your bartenders?"

“Liz, don’t.”

“Enlighten me, Jake.” You crossed your arms. “Tell me all the reasons why. That bringing me flowers wasn’t a game. That getting close to my niece wasn’t a game. Asking me to give you a chance, taking me out on a date.”

You sobbed. “Taking me up in that damn plane.”

The thought was erupt, tearing itself from the deepest part of your mind. You couldn’t help it, the words spilling out in blinded anger. “Was my grief an opportunity for you to get into my pants? Telling me it would be alright so you could leave me high and dry? Telling me it was going to be okay?”

There was a sudden shift in his expression, his gaze hardening. As if a switch had been flipped, the warm, understanding man you knew disappeared, replaced by a stranger draped in defensiveness and sarcasm.

"Oh, excuse me," he declared. "I didn't realize I was your knight in shining armour, rushing to your rescue the second you need all your problems fixed. The girl who never had a relationship, thinking a man would solve all her issues."

The words hit you like a physical blow, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. Jake's harsh gaze didn't match his usual soft and protective demeanour. It was like looking at a stranger, someone you didn't recognize. The man before you was not the Jake you'd fallen for.

This man reminded you of your father.

Was this his plan all along? You racked your mind, searching for any indication this had been coming. But what only stood out was Rooster's words echoing in your head where you found none.

Did you really only add your name to the list of women Hangman had pursued?

Because here and now, those months of working through the trauma of losing Ridley didn't matter.

Was anything about this past year even worth it? The moments you worked through when you would avoid anyone mentioning her because acknowledging her in the past tense was too much. Avoiding the things that reminded you of her. Till helped you through it.

She would know what to say right now. She would be the one beating his ass with verbiage and scathing remarks. She would nail the moment and get it right.

It hit you, the hidden weight of how desperately you missed her.

Suddenly, you were that girl again, starting her first shift in that basement bar, wondering what to say to the students who saw you as a mere bookworm with no character or class - because you couldn't compare to the girl sitting in the corner writing her paper, actually having the courage to ask that busboy out.

Or the geeks in the corner cheering as hard as they did when they beat their high score on the console, uncaring of strange looks. Or that girl, finally standing up to her 'so-called friends' when one had been spreading rumours and crude remarks about her to the others behind her back.

He really did leave you out to dry.

"Stay the fuck away from my niece," you managed to gasp through your tears. "And stay the fuck away from me."

You wanted to believe your assumption that Jake was merely putting on a front. Hangman, his alternate self, was his attempt at protecting himself.

You had a hard time doing so.

There, plain as day, across his face was the most condensing grin you had ever seen as he dramatically drawled out slowly, "No fucking problem, sweetheart."

You didn't believe in thinking about everything you regretted throughout your life. Ridley was the only exception; if you had done more, moved back home after school, or gone to the police the day you kicked Tyler out, maybe she'd still be here. You couldn't change what had happened in your life, so spending time thinking about it in the present wouldn't do you much good.

So it was no surprise to you when you followed through with your knee-deep reaction, your hand coming up out of nowhere, open and firm, slapping Jake hard enough across the side of his face, his head turning with the force of it.

You knew you shouldn't have. You weren't a violent person by any means. Next to Tyler, you never had raised a hand to anyone. You were too hurt to care you just slapped him.

That should have scared you shitless.

Rather than voice the obvious, you remained silent, allowing every repressed thought, every buried emotion to resurface.

Ridley - dead.

Sadie - hurt.

Tyler - lurking.

Bradley - damaging.

It was all too much.

George's figure stood out from behind Jake amongst your blurry vision, tears creating a vignette in your line of sight. You tore past Jake, sticking your finger out only to push George square in his chest. He stepped back at the force, hand shooting out to balance himself against the pool table.

Jake wouldn't have done that had George not shown up. Had he not played with Jake's emotions.

"You need a fucking ego check and to grow the fuck up," you seethed at him. "I don't know whose got your balls on a very tight leash, but you have no right to go around and fucking up other people's relationships."

George didn't answer you, taking his hand off the table to stand properly. You pressed him again. "Does it give you some sick fucking pleasure to hurt your brother? Dad loves me best, so I'm going to remind everyone just cause I can?"

George was still avoiding your heated glare, fixating on his football ring, twisting the piece of metal back and forth. It only pissed you off further.

"My eyes are over here, Jackass! Have the decency to look me in the fucking eyes when I'm talking to you."

If nobody had been watching when you slapped Jake, you clearly had their attention now. Even with the music blasting from the speakers, every conversation in the Hard deck had gone quiet. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, but you couldn't care less.

You were too far gone.

George slowly cocked his head to face you. Your breath was harsh, your body jolting with each gasp as you gave in to the anger. "My sister died, and I took in my niece. What's so fucking wrong about that? That I threw my life away, that I have no future?"

He shifted on his feet, about to transfer the pool stick into his other hand, when you reached out and snatched it out of his grasp, tossing it behind you with a clack.

"You're damn right I did! That's what you do for people you love. I would sacrifice my entire life so she could have hers. And I would do it again in a fucking heartbeat. I will stay on the other side of that bar for the rest of my so-called miserable life, getting catcalled and dealing with assholes like you if it gives her the best shot with the shitty hand she's dealt. You, George Seresin, have no right to judge the choices I've made in my life."

Your breathing was harsh, ribs aching with effort. Every vein, every pore, was consumed with pure white rage. And yet, you still found yourself growling out, "You have no right judging your brothers either."

Even after breaking your heart, you still stood up for Jake.

"He risks his life every single time he goes up in that jet just so the whole world can fucking survive. So you can go on day in and day out and let your father control what you want to do with your life. So you can gallant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours? So Jake’s here for you to bully and control every time he comes home? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The burning sensation in your cheeks mirrored the fire in your eyes, unshed tears making them shine brighter. The salty sting of tears blurring your vision did little to diminish the searing gaze you levelled at George.

"My sister believed everyone deserved a chance. That people cared, regardless of what they did or who they were. I had forgotten that until my niece invited Jake to a barbeque, till she invited him on a hike because he was being treated differently. Despite what I heard and everyone telling me otherwise, listing off why I shouldn’t. That he will hurt me and my niece, and I still gave him a chance.”

Squaring your shoulders and balling your hands to fists at your side, you take a step forward, a dangerous glint in your eyes. You lean towards him, your face close enough to feel his breath, your jaw clenched and muscles tight.

"You are the first person ever to prove my sister wrong,” your voice is dangerously low, underlying anger accompanying each word. “You sure as hell don't deserve that sentiment."

As you stepped away, George lifted his head to glance around the room, everyone's eyes pinning him down. The older Top Gun instructors had stood at their tables and chairs, arms crossed. Some of the current students in the program also stood, the others sending him the most scathing glares they could manage. Even some regulars who weren't aviators were casting him a scornful glance.

You spun, ready to leave him in embarrassment and escape this literal fucking mess, when you caught Jake's bewildered gaze, his mouth hanging open in slight shock.

You weren't sure whether it was that look or the dying embers of your outburst that made you spin back around to snarl, "So, leave your brother the fuck alone! Live your own goddamn life without judging others for the choices they make! Cause you sure as hell don't know what it means to sacrifice something for those you love. If you need an example, look around this goddamn room."

Jake reached for your wrist as you charged toward the front door. The second you felt his touch, you shook your hand loose, a wrenching sob tearing through your chest.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

You didn't bother seeing his reaction to your remark, rushing to grab your bag and Ridley's jean jacket off the bar.

The skin around your wrist burned from his touch, the rough callouses once a comfort but now felt like coarse sandpaper. You wanted to get under a shower or jump in the sea, hoping to remove the feeling of every memory, kiss, and word.

God, you let him touch you. Do things with you.

You were going to throw up.

God forbid you didn't want to walk home. But you needed to go, be anywhere but here, and you didn't have your car. Barely keeping it together as you took off toward the door, you had half a mind to look up to watch where you were going, deaf to Jake's shouts of your name.

There was Bradley, sitting in the first booth by the door. His brow furrowed as you made your way over to him, probably having witnessed the ordeal. You were too upset even to question why he wasn't marching across the bar, ready to knock Jake to next Sunday.

It had been weeks since the fight, with no communication in between. But it was a distant memory compared to this.

It didn't matter what he implied. It didn't matter what happened in your hallway.

It didn't matter.

You just needed your friend.

With each step you took toward him, your shame only grew greater. You couldn't even look him in the eye when you stopped, standing next to his side of the booth, hugging yourself tighter.

"Can you take me home, Bradley? I don't want to be here anymore."

Bradley's opportunity to act smug had finally arrived. But he didn't do anything other than frown. Standing up from his booth, he threw a few bills onto the table before blocking everyone's view of you. He placed a comforting hand on your back, gently pressing you forward as he uttered quietly, "Of course I can, Liz."

You kept your head down as you stepped towards the door, but Bradley, so willing to help you without so much of an 'I told you so,' made whatever resolve you had, crumble. Your knees wobbled, and your heart dropped into your stomach. You fell, and Bradley's arm whipped out, gripping your hip and pulling you tight to his side to support your weight.

Burying your head into Bradley's shoulder, you hid your face. You didn't want to see the looks of everyone in the Hard Deck, whether pity, concern, or applause, as another wave of tears wrecked your body.

Closing your eyes seemed better than reliving the truth.

And because you kept them shut, you didn't see George place a hand on Jake's shoulder, preventing him from going after you. Nor did you see the look of devastation wreck his face; the weight of every wrong decision he had ever made coming back to haunt him.

Whether Jake turned on a dime to punch George square in the jaw, you heard none of it. You hadn't even bothered to turn back to look as Bradley carried you out the front door.

.... So... Who is going to pitchfork me first? 👀

Tag List:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @dakotakazansky

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook

Part 16 - In the Blood coming soon

Wickett ;)

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rendy-a · 11 months

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Locked in with the Film Research Club

I had Vil on the mind from finishing my last fic when someone "liked" one of my Club Visit stories and...here we are! Sorry Ortho, but of course Vil steals the show here!

Sometimes, it strikes you at odd moments that Vil is famous, really famous. You'd been walking past the gym when you saw a student drop a heavy looking box and kick it. "Who does he think he is? Mr. Famous is too good to do the grunt work but can order us around like we work for him!" The student waking with him also drops his box and smiles, "Yeah, let's ditch and let our delicate princess figure this out himself." With that, they both laughingly depart.

You walked over, already having an idea in mind about what had happened. You pulled open the box to see a mixture of lighting and sound equipment. You give a small sigh, putting the picture together. Vil was a strict a leader in the Film Research Club as he was a Dorm Leader. Not everyone could deal with his...intense... style of encouragement and grew to envy and resent him.

You sighed but hefted the boxes anyway. You wouldn't exactly say that you and Vil were friends, but after the VDC, you were at least friendly. Plus, Ortho was always telling you about the things he'd done in club. You can't disappoint a fellow first-year! So, you trudge your way over to the alchemy school wing that you heard the Film club would be using for their shoot today.

When you arrived, you found Ortho setting up some complicated machinery to attach the camera to. You greet the cheerful boy and tell him about the boxes. "Vil Schoenheit has been looking for that equipment. He'll be so happy you've found it, Prefect! I'll go tell him right away!" You pat Ortho on the back, "That's OK. I've got lots of spare time and you seem busy here. I'll go tell him. Just point me in the right direction!"

You found Vil in a large storage closet near the Alchemy room, just as Ortho suggested he'd be. You swing the door open and approach Vil, who is leafing through a book near the back of the closet where a small amount of light shines through a tiny window. "Hey Vil, Ortho sent me," you began before Vil turns and shouts, "Perfect! Grab the door!" You jump at the shouting and hear an ominous click behind you.

Vil sighs, and you look at him guiltily, "Oops." It turns out that the supply closet near the Alchemy rooms locks automatically when closed due to the expensive ingredients and tools stored within. Plus, since some of the components have a chance of magical reaction if not stored correctly, the room was warded against magic. All of that added up to you and Vil being locked in the supply closet until someone came to find you.

Vil gave another sigh and returned to the book he was viewing. After a moment of looking around, you wandered over to join him. Plus... it's a closet; you really don't have a lot of choices here. You peek over and see it's a photo album. "Rook took them," Vil comments when he notices your interest. "I was in here picking up some special effects potions. Rook makes them in Science Club and leaves them in here until we need them. I guess he also stores some old photos here, too."

You leaned in to look. They were pictures from last year's Film Research Club. Some were productions, and others were candid shots from behind the scenes. A few you found confusing, but you imagined, if you asked Rook, he'd have a long explanation about why he'd photographed a scarf on a chair or a stack of paint canisters. By the end of Rooks flowing explanation, you'd probably believe the unusual subjects to be highly beautiful as well.

Vil turns the page, and the next image is his own, albeit a somewhat younger version. A frown graces his beautiful face, and he comments, "I'm sure he never intended for this to be seen, but I do hate pictures of myself being taken when I can't control them." You look at the photo of second-year Vil, "You look good, though." He looks at you sadly, "How naive you are, potato. You never know what sort of trouble a small photo can start. The tiniest detail that goes unnoticed by you can start a wild scandal."

Vil crosses his arms across his chest and looks at you with a frown, "And speaking of scandal, no good will come of the story of us being in this closet." You can easily imagine the gossip but assure Vil, "I'm sure it will be fine. No one is here but the club members, and we will just explain what happened. I'm sure they will understand!" Vil continues to look at you for a moment, and his expression slowly slides into one of amusement, "Potato, you are so refreshingly optimistic and naive."

You give a small laugh and smile, you know it to be true. Vil looks at you with a sort of fondness. It was so rare to find such a genuine person to interact with once you've become as famous as he. Suddenly, Vil's smile grows sharper and sly, "I, in the other hand, am not as foolish as you. If the peanut gallery is going to spread rumors about me..." You look on in amazement as his smile deepens and he slides close to you...

The closet door opens at last, and Ortho greets you, "Vil Schoenhit! Prefect! My sensors indicate that you have not left this room for thirty minutes. The club members grew worried, and we came to check on you!" You smile gratefully at the AI boy, "Thanks for the rescue, Ortho. I thought we'd be stuck in there all afternoon." Even as you smile at Ortho, you spot the envious duo from earlier. Just as Vil predicted, you can hear their gossiping whispers begin.

You hold your head high and push past them. After all, Vil was right. If people are going to talk about you kissing in the closet, then you might as well be kissing in the closet. You gently put your fingertips to your lips and smile, it wouldn't be a photo to add to Rook's album but you think it is definitely a beautiful memory of Film Research Club for you to hold on to.

#mini event #club visits #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twst x reader

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jovenshires · 3 months

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endless au edits: smosh theatre's seasonal lineup (1/4)

SMOSH'S SEASONAL LINEUP: A COMPLETE GUIDE by mac kahey smosh theatre, a musical theater company known for its diverse and inclusive productions, has just announced its show lineup for the year, and it is safe to say that fans are far from disappointed. starting off strong, the company kicked off its announcement with its winter showcase: a production of hadestown, led by stars damien haas and jacklyn uweh, and directed by none other than returning smosh co-founder, anthony padilla. padilla made his comeback to smosh a little over six months ago to collaborate with his fellow co-owner on their spring and summer musicals. this will be padilla's first solo show at the playhouse in nearly six years - and what a show to start off on. coupling this tragic tale of love lost with padilla's edgy direction style is a bold move, and fans are, rightfully, excited. the casting choices are also impeccable. the star-studded lineup includes previously-mentioned damien haas, an openly neurodivergent and queer actor making waves for representation everywhere. he'll be taking on the role of orpheus, a hopeless romantic, poet, and musician, and as someone who had the pleasure of sitting down with him for an interview last spring, all of these qualities describe haas to a t. this will be his first time leading a show with smosh in his near-six-year run at the company, and his first time working with padilla as a director. the actor shared the show to his instagram and expressed his excitement for the production, saying, "anthony is such a great director. it's been an honor to work with him and my amazing castmates." speaking of his castmates - his leading lady is none other than superstar jacklyn uweh. returning from her recent stint touring with the cast of spring awakening, she has rejoined the smosh cast for another performance that's sure to be amazing. the actress is known for advocating for women of color in theater spaces and never being afraid to speak her mind. she also, notably, has one of the most incredible singing voices of our generation. taking on the mysterious yet powerful role of eurydice will be no easy feat, but somehow, i think she has the power to manage it. just with this one casting, smosh has shown that when the perfect cast falls into their lap, they aren't foolish enough not to utilize it. the stacked cast doesn't stop there, though. playing hermes, the play's narrator and father figure to young orpheus, is ify nwadiwe, a booming comedic actor who has been known to feature in smosh productions. his fun-loving demeanor and natural swagger are sure to bring a natural carefree energy to this rendition of hadestown. he, too, spoke of the production fondly on social media, posting on x: "this is one of the greatest things i've ever been a part of. come see us next december to february at the smosh playhouse for one of the most incredible, f***ed up things we've ever done." long-time smosh player keith leak jr is taking on the role of hades, the rich, powerful, and egotistical king of the underworld, and his friend and partner in all things theater, olivia sui, will be beside him once more as persephone, hades's free-spirited yet suffering wife. watching these two together is always a delight, and i cannot wait for their dynamic to shine through the characters that they play. as far as the winter production is concerned, the community's shared high hopes for padilla's return may very well turn out to be grounded in reality. with an all-star cast and an incredible crew, such as returning stage head erin dougal, it is easy to see that padilla knows what he's doing. though only time will tell, i am confident that this production will be a huge success, and very well may be my favorite show of the year - although, i must mention the other productions first - because they all have incredible potential.

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roo-bastmoon · 7 months

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Homage vs. Copying

So I'm not feeling super great these days, but I still dip into Jikook spaces for a quick hit of lovely serotonin and to check up on my friends. Alas, I see some folks raging in the tags that JK is stealing Jimin's original concepts because he's too stupid or lazy to come up with his own... I'm not having flashbacks to BTS' plagiarism scandal, I'm not. I have thoughts--and lots of photo examples--about this topic, under the cut. Let's get into it--and keep it civil, too.

First off--let's just establish that folks have the right to use the Jikook tag to both celebrate and critique Jikook and the fandom around Jikook. People get to write about what they want on their blogs. They get to rant, so long as no one is using hate speech and slurs. (The minute I see that shit, I quietly report.)

Clearly, folks who are angry at Jungkook (or Jimin) come into the Jikook tag because they want attention from Jikookers, and the best use of my time and energy is to self-police and block them. That way I am not infringing on their right to scream into the wind all they like, but I also don't have to hear the noise.

Second off, unless JK called any of us up and said: "Hey, guess what? After 10 years of evidence to the contrary, suddenly I'm incapable of original thought, so I just take advantage of Jiminie-hyung, whom I keep calling out and hyping up and praising and asking to spend time with and traveling with and whose style I also match in my personal life!" maaaaybe we give the benefit of the doubt, and at least entertain the possibility that Jungkook is expressing visual alignment with Jimin because he can't just openly claim him in other ways?

Like, I'm not saying that IS what's going on, because Jungkook doesn't call me up and tell me his thoughts, either. It's fine; I'm not mad. He doesn't even text Jin back. I am just saying we should maybe sit with the idea for a bit and really marinate on what that might mean for a queer couple.

(Or we could just take in things without pronouncing any opinions yet--ya know, until we get more data around Jungkook's choices and how Jimin feels about it.)

It's fine not to assume the similarities are romantic gestures; but it's also fine not to assume the worst--that JK is siphoning off Jimin like a leech. Jungkook was consulted by the Seven stylist and he got to be creative director for his Vogue shoot; he also had some say in his music videos and performance stages. He is making choices deliberately, and it makes no sense to me that he would choose to openly copy a bandmate out of laziness. He has a professional reputation to consider.

Rather, I think this is one of the few places where he has artistic license to tether a thread between him and Jimin. I think he's paying homage.

(Side note: In film and photography, an homage is an imitation of another work. At first glance, it may seem like an homage is a rip-off or a lesser copy, but it actually pays tribute to and honors the source work. Homage is a great way to use other filmmakers' styles and content to crystallize your unique voice as a filmmaker.)

So that's my currently theory about what's going on.

Yet, honestly? None of us really know WHY there's so much similarity in their looks these days. The similarities are now stacking up so much as to be undeniable, though.

Personally, I'm leaning to this being a celebration of the fact that Jikook have always shared similar tastes; it's one of the many ways they click. Jikook know that. The stylists know that. So yeah, when JK gets a chance to observe and emulate (and expound upon) Jimin's style, he does. Because Jimin is one of the coolest people in the world to him. So he shows this in his own creative work and in his own personal wardrobe.

Here's why I hold that opinion at the moment:

Could this all be the stylists choosing to recycle looks or throw bread crumbs to Jikookers? I guess.

Could this be Jungkook just borrowing from Jimin as a shortcut? I'm not sharing his brainwaves, so I can't tell you there's zero possibility.

But what seems more likely is that of all the artists in the world, Jimin is the one Jungkook has always kept his eyes on. Out of love and respect, not malice and opportunism.

Like with the 1108 and 13 numbers that THEY keep inserting into their own communications, these similarities in style is also an emerging pattern.

If you feel protective of Jimin, I understand why you'd be wary of so much similarity. But consider what we know of both Jimin and Jungkook over the past 10 years...

While neither of these human beings are perfect (and they will continue to make mistakes), they clearly love each other. And you don't steal from the people you love. But you do honor how amazing they are whenever you get the chance.

So maybe let's just hear JK out on this?

Okay, that's all the energy I have for this topic. I got deadlines and health tests to power through over the next few weeks. If you comment with your own ideas, that's cool--but please keep it respectful of Jikook and each other. I don't want to banhammer anyone but I will.

Love, Roo

PS Even if I'm not around much, you can be sure I'll buy and stream 3D, and I encourage you guys to give it a chance too! <3

#jimin #jungkook #jikook

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wannab-urs · 1 year

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Build Me Up, Buttercup | Professor!Joel Miller x Student!Reader

Summary: Reader confronts Dr. Miller about her grade in his class.

Warnings: Not much yet. Reader is of legal age, no less than 22 but not specified, she's about to graduate college. She’s an English major. This is grumpy x grumpy. Lots of snark, eyerolling, etc. Not-Quite-Enemies to Lovers. And no she doesn’t blow him to get a better grade! (I would, but reader is classy).

Word Count: 1.1k

Why Do You Build Me Up

(Buttercup)

Dr. Miller’s Foundations of Architecture class was supposed to be a fun elective for you. You could learn a little more about architecture, something that has always been a mild interest for you. You like pretty buildings and you think it’s a cool subject. It’s your last semester of college and you deserve to take something fun to fill in that last elective requirement.

You certainly were not supposed to fail the fucking class.

“He’s so rude, Cooper,” you tell your friend. Coop looks up at you over their laptop, red curls springing in every direction and glasses sitting on the tip of their nose. They’re feigning interest while they hammer away at some graphic design assignment.

“One time he made a guy who said he liked 432 Park Ave leave the class. Like just kicked him out for the rest of the day! I mean that building is awful, but still!” Coop heaves a sigh and shuts their laptop.

“Is this that hot professor you told me about or is it the one who always wears really weird outfits?”

“No! The weird outfits guy is my Chaucer professor,” you choose to ignore the first half of that question. “I have words for him too, actually. He keeps-”

“Focus! Why are you failing Arc?”

“His essays are insane! Like, this is not English class, my guy, why are you grading me so hard? I’m literally an English major! You’d think my writing would be more than acceptable for a freshman level class.”

He had given you a D on your paper about gothic architecture. You’d chosen to write about the Santa Maria del Fiore in Italy and he took off THREE letter grades because they finished the construction in the neo-gothic style… which you had made a whole section of your paper about. It’s perfectly valid. It’s not like he really gave you much to go on.

“Did you follow the prompt? Sometimes your brain takes you places the question didn’t exactly call for…” they give you a knowing look.

“This isn’t a fanfic writing challenge, Coop, I can follow a damn prompt. He doesn’t give us anything to go on at all for these essays! Or for anything else, really.”

He is the least verbose professor you have ever had. It’s honestly kind of refreshing for a man to not love the sound of his own voice, but you’re also paying him to teach you something.

“The essay prompt was literally ‘Gothic Architecture’ and the guidelines were ‘12 pages, double spaced, due March 19th.’" You drop your voice into its lowest register, mimicking Dr. Miller's deep baritone. "And that’s what I wrote!” Someone shushes you from behind a bookshelf. You’re getting a little over excited, borderline yelling in the library about this infuriating man.

“Have you tried going to his office hours?” God why are they always so reasonable?

“Have you tried going to his office hours… No. I have not. He’s rude, remember?”

“Just try it! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could drop my paper down to an F.”

“And you could report him for unfair grading practices. Go. Shoo,” Coop starts pushing your books toward your bag.

“Fiiiiiine,” you relent.

Twenty minutes later you find yourself standing in the doorway of his office. Dr. Miller is sitting behind a large wooden desk. It’s very neat, the only things on it a computer, a picture frame turned away from you, and a stack of books. Dr. Miller has one of the books open and is writing something in a notebook, brow furrowed and tongue poking out between his lips.

“Dr. Miller?” you ask hesitantly.

He doesn’t look up from his work, just lifts a hand vaguely in your direction for a second and keeps writing. You roll your eyes and look around the office. There are bookshelves lining the walls with architecture textbooks in neat rows. A few covers of Architectural Digest are framed on the wall. Is he in those?

Your eyes land back on him. He’s wearing a dark grey Fleetwood Mac shirt that looks old as hell. The collar is stretched, revealing a bit of his chest. Your eyes trace a line up the column of this throat… He has a nice neck.

You had called him your hot professor at the beginning of the semester, regardless of how you felt about him now. There’s just something about that fluffy bed head he always has, like he couldn’t be bothered to run a comb through it. And the scruffy beard laced with grey he doesn’t seem keen on trimming. And the way his mustache frames his pouty lips. And his prominent nose that looks straight out of a painting. And okay that’s enough.

“Dr. Miller, I need to talk to you.”

“M’busy,” he mumbles out, still not looking up from the textbook.

“Okay, well it’s your office hours, so technically you have to talk to me.”

“Technically, little miss, I don’t have to do anything.”

“Excuse me? Let’s not speak to grown women like they’re children, sir.” Is he fucking for real right now?

He closes his notebook and looks at you for the first time since you walked in. Probably the first time all semester. He kind of pauses when he sees you, hopefully realizing he isn’t talking to a freshman. It wouldn’t make the little nickname okay, but it would make more sense at least.

He looks you up and down and his jaw ticks, “Sit.” His eyes flick to the chair in front of his desk. You drop your bag on the floor and slide into the seat. “So. What can I help you with?”

You take a deep breath. “You gave me a D on my last paper.”

He just stares at you.

“And considering our prompt was all of 8 words, I think- I know I met the requirements and that I did a good job. It was thoroughly researched, structured well, copy and content edited, and turned in 2 days before deadline. I would like an explanation-”

“Enough,” he cuts you off. “I don’t have to justify my gradin’ decisions to you.”

You let out a frustrated puff of air. This man drives you insane. “Dr. Miller, I’m a senior. I took this class to fulfill an elective requirement and because I like architecture. I would like to understand what is so egregious about my writing that you would have me fail a class in my last semester of college.”

He considers you for a moment, meeting your eyes. He lowers his brow, screws up his mouth from side to side, like he’s thinking hard about something. “I’ll reread it.”

Not I’ll reconsider your grade, but at least it’s something. “Thank you.” You grab your bag, moving to leave, and he stops you.

“Wait!” You pause, arching an eyebrow. “What was your name again?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.

“Seriously? I’ve been in your class since January. Figure it out.”

You storm out, slamming the door behind you.

A/N: This will be my first series! I'm really excited to try some actual characterization and plot, which I've never really played around with before. Constructive criticism in my DMs is always appreciated <3

Tag List: @beskarandblasters, @cutesyscreenname, @atinylittlepain, @wednesdayday, @whoiscaroline, @goldenhxurs, @northernwindd, @djarinxore, @worhols, @amanitacowboy, @silkiers, @4ueijos, @livinxdeadxgrl, @serenaxpedro, @huffle-punk, @elvn011, @thepriceofpepper, @lexic-22, @sunshinebtrfly, @strang3lov3, @virgogaia

#joel miller #joel miller fics #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #Joel Miller AU #Professor!Joel #Professor!Joel Miller

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imperaptorfuriosa · 7 months

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RUTH'S CHAINSHIPPING FIC REC LIST ⛓️

as requested by @kidwars :)

im still fairly new here so im certain there is some great stuff i havent read yet (my reading list is STACKED) but these are some of my faves so far!!!!! i also went thro and tagged any authors who had their tumblr in their ao3 profile so i could say hi i love your work, but if anyone wants a tag removed (or added) just lmk

rematch by unstuckintime. time-loops are one of my all time favorite styles of fix-it so this fic is literally EVERYTHING!!

sleeping with ghosts by @adrianicsea . my other favorite type of au is a GHOST AU and this one is fantastic!! written by a beloved mutual, i read all 250k of it in like 3 days flat. it's addicting AND not even done yet. BONUS POINTS for trans adam!!!

heaven knows im miserable now by bleakmidwinter. lawrence asks adam to help with his PT/recovery at a remote cabin. adam's artistic side is given some focus. it's so damn good just read it.

to hold you again by TheFamousFireLadyM. IM OBSESSED WITH THIS FIC. i think about it OFTEN. it's all about lawrence's grief/guilt/obsession with adam. short and excellent. (not a fix-it)

Stop Bath by fakebodies ( @2x4swrites ) . adam finds that lawrence has been taking photos of him when he wasnt paying attention. it's so sweet, so good, i love it.

Can You Feel My Heart? by @vixenfur . i love that they are literally both like "wow gay sex feels so good, and that's weird because i'm definitely straight!" LMAO

Family Tree by @general-sleepy. ive read a whole bunch of adam as a step-dad fics and this one is one of my faves....i am a simple man and a perpetual sucker for family/domestic aus and im not apologizing for that.

i'd tell you everything; if you'd pick up that telephone by @whatifwekissedinthesawbathroom . lovely dialogue-only fic. i love the ones where adam and lawrence move in together first, THEN figure out that they are also in love and this fic is one that stands out in my brain from that genre.

you're the one (using me as a muse) by 10pintsofsacrifice ( @angeltrapz ). this one deals with the pressure of the media/press on adam, and ends with the sweetest fluff. it's so good <3

and 2 bonus coffinshipping recs too >:)

Strahm Dies at the End by unstuckintime. this fic singlehandedly converted me to hoffstrahm-ism. HILARIOUS opening. it's very dark but tbh? that's the way this dynamic works for me.

rushed like a dreadful wind by bleakmidwinter. still dark, but does have a happy ending. i know i just said i like my hoffstrahms to be evil and toxic but this fic really hit the spot. what can i say? i love when the 2 guys are chained together LMAO

#i literally have a just like heaven au by a fave saw author im dying to read so like. there might be a future recc list and/or update #fic rec #ruth talks

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hannahssimblr · 2 months

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I tap a knuckle against the study door.

“Dad?”

There’s silence.

I knock again. “Dad? Are you busy?”

He’s moving around in there, I can hear him. Closing browser tabs, maybe. Shuffling around and rearranging things, in a blind panic trying to look like he’s doing something important. I huff out a tiny laugh at the thought of him hurrying to close the minesweeper window before someone can come in and catch him doing something unserious. I don’t really know what he does in his pokey little study all evening, but one of Jen’s crazy theories is that he’s chatting online to his twenty two year old YouTuber girlfriend, to which I need to remind her, once again, that my dad is too boring to have an affair. Mom says he’s writing reports and even that sounds too exciting for him.

“Come in,” he says eventually, and I let myself into his lair where he is sitting stoically at his computer, a stack of paper, no doubt with exceedingly dull information on them is right by his side, and his hand hovers over it so I'll know he’s especially busy, and whatever it is, I had better make it quick.

I close the door behind me and approach him while his eyes settle curiously on the stack of soft cover books in my hands. “What are those?”

“I spoke to the guidance counsellor at school this week. She gave me some college prospectuses, and I thought we could... um, look through them together”

He heaves out a sigh and gestures to the second chair. The guest chair, I suppose, not that there’s ever guests in here to sit on it. It’s uncomfortable like a lot of furniture in this house, all style but no substance, and I perch on its edge, my knee doing that annoying anxious jerking thing while dad takes off his glasses and swaps them with another pair. “Show me what you have.”

I pass the stack to him and he drops it onto his desk with a thud, picks up the first and immediately flips the front cover towards me with a completely uncalled for attitude. “What’s this?”

“A prospectus.”

“Rhode Island School of Design?”

“Yes.”

He tosses it aside without so much as a glance inside it and grabs the next, “School of the Art Institute, Chicago,” Then reads the blurb incredulously “‘Art and design change the world.’ Alright…” He raises his eyebrows and puffs out a breath as he chucks it into the discard pile. “CalArts, nope.”

My face gets hot.

He snatches another and flips over to the back, “‘Studying here is different,’” He reads, “‘It is about making a better world, about becoming a creative force and learning to change the world through bold and curious thinking…’” He mumbles the rest and then scoffs at it as if it’s some political argument he disagrees with inside the Sunday Times, and he goes on and on in this manner while the rejection pile builds and builds and so does the feeling inside me.

“What is this?” He says eventually. “These are all American schools. American art schools.”

“Yes.”

He scrutinises me like he believes I have gone mad yet says nothing because he doesn’t need to. I already know what he’s asking.

The words come out of me in a rush. I rehearsed this in the hall for five minutes before having the nerve to knock, “Because I think I would get a chance at a really great education there. It’d be good for me to be away and independent and to learn a lot of new things, not just education and art, but also travel and culture. I’d really like to go to college somewhere that’s exciting and dynamic and… and…” Damn, I forgot the other adjective I’d chosen, “...Um, fun, I guess. It’s just that whenever I think about college I imagine myself in the US. I really think that’s where I should be.”

“That’s because that’s what you see in those movies.” He says movies like one might say hardcore pornography, because Christopher doesn’t waste his time with such things as movies. Christopher works, and studies, and reads endless, endless books about World War II. “You’re not going to college in the states.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a waste of time and it’s a waste of money. Do you know what it costs to attend just a year of college in the US? Before your living expenses?”

“I know, but I spoke to the counsellor about it, and she explained that there are scholarships.”

He laughs, “You’re not going to get a scholarship,” and switches back to his other glasses and shakes his mouse to wake up his PC, which has some kind of thrilling spreadsheet open on it. This 2009 financial report must be rapturously exciting if he’s more interested in it than the future of his only son and firstborn child.

I inhale sharply, “But why couldn’t I get a scholarship?”

“Because,” He types some numbers into the sheet, “You’d have to have a pristine academic record, a long list of extracurriculars and a very persuasive personal statement,” he peers briefly at me over the rim of his specs, “I’ve been through the US education system, and I know the standard that these colleges expect of their scholarship students. You’re just not up to it.”

“I could be, if I worked hard. I’m already doing pretty well in all of my classes, like, I get Bs in most things-” I stop myself before unhelpfully adding, without even trying, “And I have extracurriculars, like, I play rugby and help out Jen with her maths work…”

“You have to understand that the kinds of people who earn these scholarships do a lot more than that.”

“Well I would do more things if I had more time to myself in the mornings, or in the evenings, or after school, or at any other point in my day when I have to ferry Ivy back and forth from-”

Dad barrels on as though he hasn’t registered that I am speaking, “And you know, as well as the extracurriculars, all of these scholarship students have exemplary records. They're well mannered, well behaved, they never get into trouble, never get detention, never mind suspension. Twice.”

I snap my mouth shut.

“Honestly, if I was the dean of one of these,” he plucks at the limp corner of one of the prospectuses, “Art college places, and I saw an application from someone with your record, I would simply toss it out. There’s not a chance, and before you ask, I am not paying for art school when you could easily do that here. For free.”

“Okay, I understand that, but I don’t really want to go to college here if I can avoid it.”

He doesn’t ask me why. He already knows but doesn't want to acknowledge it, and it’s easier, as it always is, just not to discuss feelings. Any feelings, especially mine, which are the most irritating and irrational feelings of all. “Why art school?” He hums, idly poking around with something on screen. “Couldn’t you choose a more academic course?”

I’m surprised he thinks I’m capable based on all the things he just said about me.

“You could apply for something in Trinity. Math, maybe?”

“Maths.”

“Or if you want something more artistic you could try English. Literature. That would be interesting, don't you think?”

“Or I could just… do art.”

“I would just hate to see you become one of those arty types. One of that NCAD crowd loitering around Thomas Street with their facial piercings and crazy haircuts.”

Oh no, a haircut. I sigh, “I’m not going to NCAD. I was kind of hoping you’d be more enthusiastic about my choices, but if you don’t think they’re right, I mean… what can I do.” I loathe the laugh that comes out of me, this strange, nervous titter that I didn’t even realise I was capable of.

I get up and begin to gather the stack of prospectuses laying forlornly on my father’s desk, my hopes and dreams bound for the recycling bin. “I’ll speak to the guidance counsellor again about my options, I suppose, and then I’ll try and choose something that’s more realistic for me.”

Before I let myself out I force myself to pause and turn to him one last time, “Do you… um, if I come up with more choices for colleges, do you think you’d want to sit down with me some evening and go through them? Like, I mean, really look over all of the options and help me decide what the best thing is?”

There is a lengthy pause.

“You know, Jude, I’m really busy, and-”

“Okay.” I leave the room and shut the door with a gentle click.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #there Jen he did it #are you happy now #anyone who thinks Christopher is hot can KEEP IT TO YOURSELF #no dilf comments here #he's a heartless bastard

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unabashegirl · 1 year

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Nameless

DISCLAIMER: the rest of this one shot is available only on Patreon! SUBSCRIBE TO MY PATREON for only $3 USD and have access to exclusive one-shots and series!

masterlist

Word count: 2.2K

“We are assholes,” you said very bluntly as you entered his at-home studio. His head popped up from the stacked pages that held the possible lyrics for his next album. His eyebrows were knit together and his lips slightly parted. He wore big, framed glasses that made him irresistible. The optometrist had ordered them for him after you had shared that he held his phone too close to his face when reading texts.

“Christ, wha’ did we do?” He asked, clueless as to why you were making a big fuss. You had been going through so many changes not only physically, but emotionally too. You just prayed and thanked God that Harry was known for his never-ending patience.

“We haven’t told anyone” You through your body on the same couch that he was sitting just a few inches away from him. “At least not anyone close to us” You added, blocking, and throwing your phone on the cushion beside you. It was cold in the basement, so you threw on the first blanket you saw.

“S’not true. We told our parents” He scratched the beard that he had been growing since the tour had ended. “It’s too early anyway” He dropped the pencil and sat back. He was now clearly invested and entertained by the conversation.

“It’s been four months” You giggled at his awful sense of time. “We are almost halfway there”

“I think we should pull a whole Kardashian situation” He shrugged, as he shifted his body towards you and grabbed your ankle from under the blankets. Harry referred to how all the members of the Kardashian clan always hid their pregnancies until the child had been born.

“All of their friends always know that they're pregnant” You laughed as he ticked your foot after taking off the dinosaur-themed sock. You grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him but missed.

“I am trying to be a nice husband and give you a foot massage and not only you are insulting me but throwing pillows at me!” He gasped with a big smile threatening to give him away.

“Sorry. I love you” You smiled, nudging him gently with your foot, so he would continue.

“You are lucky that you are cute and that you are pregnant with my baby” he mumbled kissing the inside of your ankle before starting to massage the bottom of your foot. “I want to keep you both save and once it’s out there; I can't do much”.

You had been pregnant before. It had been before Love on Tour began. Unfortunately, you had lost the baby. The emotional pain had been unmeasurable. You cried every day and Harry isolated himself from the world. None of you spoke a word about it those first few weeks. That all ended when both of your mothers turned up at the front door. They dug both of you out of depression and pushed you to keep going.

“Just think how Jeff, James, Mitch, and Sarah are going to feel when they find out that we kept them in the dark because we didn’t trust them enough” You argued, “our friends deserve to know”.

“I guess you are right,” Harry said after a few minutes of silence, “But that’s it. We are still not telling the rest of the world until you give birth” it was a compromise and if you had learned something about being in a relationship for so long was to always find the middle ground.

“You got yourself a deal” You winked as he moved to the other foot. “We also must choose names” Harry groaned and threw his head back. “Just for a few minutes”. You had decided not to find out the sex of the baby until the birth which meant you needed at least two names. It always ended with both of you being over saturated and hating every single name in the books. It drove Harry nuts, but he also didn’t want to produce a weird name that made him stand out more. Neither of you wanted to give him an incredibly unique name. He or she was already going to have enough of being Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N daughter or son… CONTINUED ON PATREON

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cyborg-franky · 1 year

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Study Session..

Thank you to another supporter. I had fun, I haven't written a long fun pre-skip Law style fic in a hot sec. So please enjoy this <3

Law x GN Reader Modern AU SFW but suggestive in places WC: 1,250

You were in a foul mood, you hated biology with your entire being and what was worse was your friends seemed to be doing fine, great and they even went as far as to suggest a tutor to help you out. You didn't want help, you didn’t need help. But your friends reminded you that you very much needed this class to pass or you were going to fail and have to do the entire year again. And you hated that they were right.

So sucking up your pride, and getting the biggest drink you could from your favorite cafe, you sat in your dorm room waiting for this tutor. He came highly recommended by everyone who’d used him. Your best friend had even had a few private lessons with him and said he was more than worth the cost and the time.

The phrasing had made you curious, considering as they said it they had this dumb look on their face and the hint of a blush. You didn’t think much about it though, just sipped your drink and glared out the window, eyes falling to the clock on your desk, watching the minutes tick down as your annoyance at the situation grew.

A knock at the door brought you out of it, shaking your head and standing up, not caring if you looked scruffy, just wanting to be comfy in your own space. Opening the door you stared at the man standing there.

Law quirked an eyebrow when you stood there with your mouth open, words failing to formulate as you started to imitate a fish out of water. You were suddenly aware of the state you were in, the messy hair, comfy shapeless clothes, caring very much how you looked now a very handsome man was standing at your door with a look on his face that said this person is nuts.

“Oh hey,” Wow, brilliant, what a great first impression. “Come in!” You almost pulled the door into your face as you held it open for him. You babbled out your introduction, giving your name and seeing the slight smirk on his lips.

“I know, we exchanged names in the email.” His tone was smug and you half hated it and half wanted to lay at his feet and ask him nicely to step on you. But you composed yourself, brushing some hair back, attempting to look somewhat put together, failing.

“Right, so your fucking up your class.” He started and helped himself to the one chair at your desk, leaving you to perch on the end of your bed, still fumbling over yourself, too busy staring at the dark hair, all the tattoos on show, his piercings.

You wished someone would have warned you he was hot and 100% your type. He shuffled the chair over and nodded to the chair that belonged to your roommate, he wanted you to sit by him? Was he crazy? Couldn’t he see the internal panic attack you were having over this entire thing? You didn’t want Law to use his sharp tongue again so you did as he suggested, pulling the seat over but keeping enough space between you that you wouldn’t explode at how nice he smelt.

Too late.

You took in a whiff of his cologne and tried to be cool about it. Simply taking a sigh and grabbing the big stack of books and notes. Flipping one over, his beautiful icy stare of steel grey flicked from you and over the notes. He clicked his tongue and read over the pages.

“Your handwriting, how do you ever read notes?” He commented, rolling up the sleeves of his yellow hoody and leaning on the table, using a painted nail to follow the scribble that passed as your notes. “Alright, I think I see what you are struggling with… anatomy isn’t an easy subject, there are a lot of fussy Latin names to remember and so many complex systems.” He hummed and you relaxed a little, only slightly pissed he’d insulted your handwriting.

“I manage,” You replied. You wanted to tell the handsome man to fuck off but you also very much wanted him to stick around. You were caught between a rock and a hot place it seemed, you looked at the book he opened. “Alright, this is what I always use to teach, it's handy because it simplifies things better than the crusty books the classes suggest.”

Law moved over, closer to you, his arm brushing against yours as he tapped the page, making you stare at what was written there but you struggled to think about anything other than how close he was. He snapped his fingers and you blinked, pulling your attention away from thoughts of his hands over your anatomy and down to the diagram.

“Little distracted? That’s fine, I don’t mind if you stare at me instead…” Law said, the smile on his face growing, a brow quirked as you felt the heat burn your cheeks, mouth hanging open once again. Was he hitting on you? Your pulse raced and your heart beat faster but he just chuckled. “I’m getting paid either way.” Law shrugged.

OH! You little… you dragged yourself kicking and screaming from your thoughts of him and you kissing, rolling around on your single-person bed to fix him a narrowed glare as he chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

“Jokes aside,” He said and stood up, moving behind you.”So, I think it might be easier for you to learn the practical way…” He began, his hands resting on your shoulder. Your mind blanked as he spoke to you in that smooth deep voice, feeling his hands moving down your back, along your shoulder blades, down your arms leaving a pleasant tingle as fingertips danced over your arms.

He was trying to tell you each bone’s name in your arms, how they connected, he was trying to teach you but you were far too busy in space basking in the attention he was giving you. Making up scenarios all over again. Fighting yourself to keep your eyes open and not whimper, he must have already thought you were a complete hormone-driven idiot.

So entranced in the touches, and the close proximity to the sexy tutor you barely registered when his hands returned to your shoulder, he leaned forward, and his warm breath danced across your ear. “And this, this is commonly known as the ‘collarbone’ Do you recall its medical name?” Law asked as diligent digits danced over your skin, sending the most wonderful shiver down your spine.

You couldn't think, struggling, just wanting to feel those firm tattooed hands drifting further down. “C-clavicle?” you breathed a sigh when he moved, just a little, hands leaving your skin. You were disappointed but you got to glance over your shoulder and see the wicked smirk on his handsome face.

“Not bad, but I think we need to spend more time together, don’t you?” He chuckled when you nodded your head, so much for not seeming too eager.

As you watched him pull out his planner, and start to write up notes you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted more time from you because he enjoyed teasing you, enjoyed your company, or wanted more money.

The more you watched Law, studied his face, watched his lips which seemed to be permanently curled into a smirk, you decided you didn’t care which reason it was. You knew at that point the handsome tutor had you in a chokehold.

And you wanted more.

#gn reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law op #law x reader #law x you #law x yourname #law x y/n #law x yn #sfw #modern au #one piece #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x yourname #one piece reader insert #law trafalgar

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dreadfutures · 6 days

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impressions from the hades ii technical playtest

absolutely chock full of spoilers but also theories

Amazing gameplay, feels just as good as Hades 1 with improvements and creative changes. So many different builds/play styles will be possible. in the dev stream they talked about melee close quarters vs sorcery ranged, but I find myself doing HEAVY spellcasting while also stacking in heavy melee boons on the knives, and mixing and matching.

The boons have a few familiar perks but so many of them are new and creative, even for gods we know from the first game. All of them feel really good.

The SOUND EFFECTS are amazing. The sounds of your weapons change based on the boon equipped to each attack. the sounds of the arena change depending on the god at the end (if any). Nothing and I mean nothing makes the dopamine go off more than the sound of Hephaestus' boon blasts when I do my fan of knives and they all explode. PING PING PING.

I find myself doing "resource runs" and "story runs." they do overlap. It's tough to only have one harvesting item equipped at a time and I spent so much time looking for silver and looking that my eye has started slipping over the lone spirits who gives you psyche, even when Selene leads me to them lol. I do like that they have her guiding light, but it is subtle. I also like the way you can pin certain items when you're in a run so you can remember what you needed for a recipe.

Unfortunately I did so many harvest runs that I actually got all the recipes before I had a chance to USE forget me not on a run so.... woops on that fated list lol.

We are maybe going to romance Moros or Nemesis (probably both are options?) but maybe not both at the same time? since they're siblings technically (technically) (I wouldn't mind though). I love all these children of nyx and want to protect them and smooch them all.

EXCEPT. Mel is a Silver Sister, with Artemis and Selene. Does that mean she's gotta be a virginal girl squad? lol

I love sister Artemis. I love that she throws snacks!!!!! which is even more endearing bc it's fried and a chocolate bar and soda. I wonder if sometimes I hear a note of disapproval from her and I wonder where her plot will go later. Selene it's said may not be able to reach us in Tartarus, but Artemis might.

Speaking of found family.

I fucking adore Odysseus. I love Od. So. Much. Like I loved Achilles but Od is such a good girl dad for Mel, and his pep talks are the best and so sensitive ;_; what a guy I love him.

I think? that Hecate's familiars must be placeholders, since they're just little statues that vibrate when you give them treats. I can't wait to see where they go in the full game.

It's an interesting take on Hestia, that she hates everybody. It makes me wonder if we'll see Hera or not, since I kind of expect that behavior from Hera.

Hephaestus and Demeter and Aphrodite remain my favorite boon givers.

As far as I can tell there is no fishing rod in the playtest but there will be in the full game and I'm excited.

Arachne's self esteem hurts me 😫 I love you little bug!!!! I wonder if we'll find her shop in Olympus or in Tartarus -- and I worry about her. At least Athena is too busy to bother her! I hope! I love Mel's different outfits.

The amount of pets that Mel gets to have is delightful. I love her frog so much.

Hecate is fascinating. She is SUCH a mother, she is SO compassionate to Mel and trying to build her up! She is wry and dry but never cruel or negative. I love her sm. Poor Mel has some low self esteem and understandable doubts and is putting so much pressure on herself. And I really wonder about Hecate's relationship with Persephone and the house of Hades and with nyx. Nemesis says something that makes me wonder if Hecate is innocent. Either way I don't think she'll really be a villain. My heart would break if so. Mel would break.

Mel is so sweet and pure. ;_; and she says "death to chronos" so coldly. When she says "Hence I go" I just hear her as a little baby playing hide and seek with Hecate and it gives me so many feelings.

I want to know about Mel's arm!

I can't wait to see the other regions just from the Crossroads, since there's currently two doors we can't enter.

Also what are we going to DO with the fish?

Very exciting stuff.

#hades 2 spoilers #hades 2

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mixelation · 1 year

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okay i wrote a scene from the reborn au. here's team disaster

Tori sat in the grass, her water canteen propped up between her knees. A stack of mismatched bento boxes Kushina-senei had “lovingly” filled with food sat next to her. Kushina-sensei herself paced the grass in front of Tori, occasionally blocking her view of Deidara and Itachi beating the snot out of each other.

Tori had been aware, in her previous life, that Itachi and Deidara were simply on a different level from other ninja. Now this knowledge was even more acute. Itachi’s form was perfect and deadly. Deidara’s style was more lax but just as quick and lethal. They frequently blurred in front of her, moving too fast for her eyes to track, and she knew this is just them fucking around because Kusina-sensei told them to spar. She couldn’t imagine a world someone like her could keep up.

Kushina pouted as she paced, occasionally shooting Tori a look like she expected Tori to do or say something. Maybe she wanted Tori to ask questions, or to demand to be taught the crazy spinning kick Itachi just used to knock Deidara over.

Tori smiled back at Kushina. It didn’t bother her too much that she wasn’t some sort of genetic freak like Itachi and Deidara. Sure, she’d like to be able to keep her own in a fight if one happened to happen to her, and using ninjutsu would be cool, but her motives for becoming a shinobi of Konoha had very little to do with wanting to kick ass and a lot more to do with wanting a soft, safe bed at night and a whole research department to exploit during the day.

(Also, Kushina’s cooking was pretty good. The free lunch was a nice bonus.)

Besides, if Tori decided she wanted to kill some ninja that was out of her league, she’d figure out her own way to make it happen. She’d done it before with less.

Itachi finally cracked a tree trunk with Deidara’s head, and Kushina-sensei paused her pacing, propping a hand on her hip. Her brows furrowed minutely, but it wasn’t out of concern for Deidara. No, Tori was positive that Kushina-sensei was frustrated because Itachi and Deidara needed no coaching or teaching from her whatsoever.

Tori felt a little bad for her. Kushina-sensei was kind of pushy and loud, but she enthusiastically presented them with a homemade lunch everyday, and she’d seemed so excited to teach them that first day. It wasn’t fair that she got handed a team with two ninja that were secretly S-ranked missing-nin instead of cute genin who actually needed her guidance. That was why, when Kushina-sensei shot Tori another look, Tori hopped to her feet and clapped her hands together in the world’s worst applause.

“Nice hustle, Itachi!” she called.

Itachi turned to stare at her over his shoulder, like she’d said something a little bit stupid. If she didn’t already know him, Tori thought this expression would be a bit intimidating. Unfortunately for Itachi, she’d met infinitely scarier people. She clapped harder.

Deidara was mostly unharmed, except for maybe his ego. He shoved Itachi as they walked up the hill to meet Kushina-sensei and Tori.

“Next time we use jutsu, yeah!” Deidara declared. “Then you’ll be eating bark.”

“Uh-uh, not unless we get a higher clearance training ground, you know,” Kushina-sensei chided, now with both hands on her hips. “Okay, since Itachi won, he spars Tori next.”

There was a long, awkward pause.

“I’d rather not,” Tori said.

Kushina-sensei just raised her eyebrows at her. “Well, you’re gonna,” she replied.

“I won’t break anything,” Itachi added solemnly.

“I don’t want to,” Tori insisted. “I don’t see what the point would be.”

She was just going to make a fool of herself. She’d be okay with a proper teaching spar– the kind where the more experienced shinobi carefully guided the spar. She didn’t trust Itachi or Deidara to have the slightest idea how to do this. Kushina-sensei was ordering her to go let Itachi kick her ribs in for no reason.

“Kid, I am your Jounin sensei, you know,” Kushina-sensei told her, eyes just a little incredulous. “You have to do what I say, no matter what.”

Deidara was looking at her the way he would right before she did any sort of fuinjutsu, like he expected her to accidentally set the grassy field on fire or something. Was talking back to a teacher really so scandalous?

“Do you need a pep talk, girl to girl?” Kushina-sensei pressed, eyes lighting up in a way that Tori did not want to deal with.

“Fine, fine,” Tori grumbled. Meeting Itachi’s eyes, she said, “If you do break something, you owe me dinner for a week.”

Itachi faced her the way Deidara had looked at her sometimes, when they’d been renegade ninja buddies for a month. It wasn’t that he thought she was weak or delicate, or even that Tori couldn’t be incredibly dangerous under the right circumstances, but more that he’d already sorted her into a category of non-combatant. There was an uneasiness in his body language, imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t used to reading him. Itachi still thought of her as a civilian, and one he theoretically liked. Fighting her hand-to-hand was as inconceivable to him as it was to her.

He did proceed to fight her with kiddy gloves on, she thought, because she saw every hit coming even as she failed to dodge. The fight ended with her limping back to the pile of bento, sweaty and bruised all over and slightly embarrassed. This would have almost been better in her old life, where expectations for her taijutsu were in the negatives.

“Okay!” Kushina-sensei cried, sounding more excited than she should be. “Let’s analyze what happened!”

The analysis was basically just Kushina waving her arms and listing things Tori needed to improve, because Itachi’s taijustu was borderline perfect. Tori opened her canteen and took a long chug of water while Kushina-sensei babbled. A couple of insights were useful, but most of it boiled down to “Itachi is just better than you in every way.” It would be humiliating, Tori thought, if she were actually twelve or if she didn’t already have a history with both Itachi and Deidara.

It wasn’t completely not embarrassing, though! For once maybe they could do an exercise Tori would excel at, like having a pleasant conversation with a stranger, or what to do if the scroll you stole was sealed up tight.

Deidara turned his head to hide a smirk at her expense. Tori considered chucking her canteen at him.

“Oh,” Itachi suddenly said, head whipping round from where he’d gotten bored and turned to watch a dragonfly. “Tori, I’ve been meaning to tell you. Your tree-walking is all wrong.”

Tori stared back at him. “What?”

Kushina-sensei practically exploded with joy at the chance at a teaching moment. They were all ushered down the hill and over to the tree line to watch the incredibly mundane sight of Tori walking up a tree.

“What, because she’s slow?” Deidara asked, watching as Tori flipped herself over to stand on the bottom side of a branch. The long braid she’s tied up her hair in dangled centimeters from brushing the grass below.

“I think I’m doing fine,” Tori sniffed. Kushina-sensei too seemed confused about what the problem was. Sure, Tori slipped or mistimed the jutsu sometimes, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t getting better and better with practice.

“No, you’re…” Itachi trailed off, staring at her. Unlike for their spar, he’d activated the sharingan. “You might be doing that in the least efficient way possible. Who taught you?”

Tori glared back at him. She was barely using any chakra to stick herself to trees and buildings nowadays, thank you very much. If she was expected to be even more efficient then she might as well just quit being a ninja now.

“No one taught me,” Tori replied. “It’s just the leaf exercise but on your feet, isn’t it?”

Kushina-sensei’s eyes widened in horror, and Deidara burst into hysterical laughter.

“What?” Tori demanded. She was standing on a tree, wasn’t she?!

“Oh, Tori….” Kushina-sensei said.

As it turned out, tree walking wasn’t just activating and deactivating the leaf exercise to stick plant matter to yourself as you hopped around in a tree canopy, carefully timing sticking and unsticking yourself to the tree with every step. Apparently that was an insane way to do it, and Deidara kept spontaneously choking on his own laughter over how insane a thing to do it was. No, tree-walking only required a thin layer of chakra on the bottom of your shoes, and you could easily stick and unstick yourself without having to constantly adjust it.

It was a team effort to explain this to her, everyone talking at once. Apparently if you’d already solved a problem in the most cursed way possible, everyone wanted to correct you. Still, she managed to parse what she should have been doing from the cacophony of noise.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tori demanded of her feet, glaring down at her sandals as she walked up a second tree, this time with about a million times the ease.

“Wait,” Deidara wheezed, straightening up from where he’d had to lean against another tree he was laughing so hard. “Tori, how have you been water-walking?”

Tori stared back at him, expression dead. “You don’t want to know.”

#reborn au #my writing

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