#i made these fairly quickly so they might not fit the final shade exactly

[wxndswept]

Don't mind me, I'm just cooking.

That said, which do you like more?

#(ooc) #i made these fairly quickly so they might not fit the final shade exactly #but i can't decide between green and blue #also debating wether r not i actually want to edit icons again #blair's freckles were a huge pain even tho they turned out good #but i've done eyes many times in the past

[animeyanderelover]

Can I request minato x fem uzumaki s/o fic prompt 63? I think this prompt will with suit an uzumaki s/o. Thank you 😊

You and your Uzumaki s/o😂. But hey, I love it anyways. Before someone asks, the s/o will have red hair in here since many members of the Uzumaki clan have red hair.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, clinginess

Prompt 63: “Your hair is so soft and silky.”

You were by all means not a morning person, not a terrible one at least. You enjoyed laying for a few moments longer in the soft bed, basking in the warmth and the softness of the sheets and the mattress. And of course whilst being able to cuddle with your lovely husband Minato. He was sadly most of the time busy, working as the Hokage was not easy to do and you knew he hated leaving you alone for too long.

But he had to do it and you encouraged him whenever you could, visiting him in his office to hopefully cheer his day up a bit, which you always did, and always doing your best to shower him in as much affection as you were comfortable with. It never failed to lift his mood and especially on extremely tiring or bad days you knew it would help him extremely to receive some affection which he always gladly returned.

For the most time you were confident in saying that you lived a good life, you had your husband and you had your bestie Kushina who had been sent together with you to the life many years ago. You had been friends even before that and with time you two had grown so incredibly close that both of you saw each other as sisters, though you weren't related.

She was pretty much one of the very few persons Minato didn't feel that jealous off when you were spending time with her instead of him, he trusted her as a good friend of his and Kushina made sure that he was treating you well, though she trusted him just as much.

Because as much as you loved him, he was maybe just the tiniest bit too clingy and needy when it came to certain things. Sometimes it was more cute and sweet than it was annoying, but you had your moments where you simply weren't in the mood for all the jealousy and the clinginess of him. He was a grownup, the Hokage and sometimes it was a bit annoying to have him clinging to you, essentially when you had talked to other men in the village or spent too much time with someone else. Those were moments that never failed to make him feel jealous and afterwards he always wanted a bit more attention.

And this didn't stop just there, even when you two were alone it happened fairly often that he refused to let you leave him, you guessed because he was due to his job not able to spend that much time with you like he would have liked, though you knew he was responsible and wouldn't lose focus whilst doing what had to be done. But that also implied that whenever he had some free time, he would spend it with you. This morning happened to be one of this moments.

"Minato! I really have to get up now!", you insisted, trying to free yourself from the two arms currently wrapped around your waist, pulling you with a sudden jerk back into the bed, pressing you successfully closer to the man currently refusing to let you leave the bed. "I don't want you to. Why are you so fixed on leaving already? Stay with me.", you heard him whining whilst he pressed his head into the crook of your neck, your red hair falling over his face.

You let out a slightly annoyed sigh, though not finding it in your heart to be truly mad at him right now. You were used to this. "Dear, I know that this is pretty unfortunate, especially considering that today you have a bit more time and I promise I will spend the whole rest of the day with you. But I have to meet someone today. It's pretty important and we promised to meet in about an hour. I really have to leave now and dress myself up."

You had hoped that this explanation would work, but you had forgotten the jealousy strike of your husband for a short moment. "Who do you have to meet?" You were sure that there had been this certain dislike in his voice, though you weren't too sure since he had grumbled it more, still feeling a bit sleepy. "I have to meet a jonin called Aki. I don't know if you know him or not, but I really have to make myself ready now."

You yanked frustrated on those well built arms, still keeping you in place. As much as you would love to do some morning cuddling with Minato right now, you had something important to talk out with the jonin.

"Why do you want to meet another man? And why now? You know that I have today a few hours off and that I want to spend them with you. What do you even plan on talking about with him?"

This was ridiculous. You had a grownass man clinging onto your hip and whining for you to cuddle with him, a legendary jonin and the Fourth Hokage of Konohagakure. The Yellow Flash of the Leaf, feared by everyone. But you guessed everyone would have rubbed their eyes when seeing this. Everyone except Kushina and the Third maybe since they knew that Minato could become more immature and childish when it came to you.

"Minato! Seriously, act like an adult and let me finally go! I have to talk with that guy about an important mission that I'm assigned too! He wanted me on his team! We need to go over the details, that's all! And if you would just finally let go, I could get over with it quickly!"

You angrily shoved with all your might against him, by now you were nearly about to start a fight if this would continue any longer. "A mission?", Minato repeated after you, looking like he was remembering something before his whole face seemed to drop. It had you tilting your head a bit confused, wondering what had him being so shocked all of a sudden.

"Mina, is everything alright?", you asked him, the sudden change of look on his face was confusing you. "That mission...is for one month. If everything goes right that is." , he started talking slowly, goung over the facts. "Well...yes. That's what Aki told me. Apparently an A-ranked mission as well, in another country. He said that he was still missing one member for his team and he thought I would make a good fit.", you explained everything you knew, wondering if the long distance between you and him was what made him so uneasy.

"And you are...the only woman on that team. In a foreign land. On an A-ranked mission.", he continued, looking like he had just heard something horrible. "...Pardon me?!" Oh no, he was not jealous because you would be a whole month under men, was he? "Do not tell me that you are worried because I will be the only woman on that goddamn mission! Minato, what am I? A small and weak girl who can't protect herself? I'm jonin for a reason so you better belive that I am able to defend myself! No matter if it's someone from my own team or from the enemies! You should really trust me more! You know I love you and would never leave you."

You let out an angry huff of air, blowing a few strands of hair away that had fallen over your face. You were a bit out of breath after the small shouting session, feeling a bit more cooled down now. "It's not you who I distrust, it's just everyone else.", you heard the blonde man mumble quietly, still holding tightly onto you.

"They're shinobi from this village so for the love of god, have more faith that they won't try anything with the wife of the Hokage.", you complained, attempting to free yourself again, although you slowly gained the feeling that you might miss the meeting with Aki due to a very clingy husband. Would that count as an excuse? It didn't sound like one.

"How can you know that they won't try anything? You're so pretty and I won't be there. They might use that chance to flirt with you. And next to that I don't want to get you hurt." He didn't seem to take you seriously, currently stuck in his own jealousy and protectiveness.

"Please just stay with me and let me assign someone else for that team. I won't be able to have you so long seperated from me without knowing what might happen."

He sounded like he was begging you by now and you had temporarily stopped struggling, deciding to safe your energy for later. You weren't in the mood to start a fight after all, not when Minato was currently being in a very annoying way cute like this, whining for you to stay. He wouldn't let you go anyways, you were sure of that. So with a long sigh you let yourself just fall back into bed, right back into Minato's arms who took you all too gladly back now that you weren't struggling anymore, pressing you closer to him and nuzzling his head once again in your head, his breath tickling you a bit.

"Your hair is so soft and silky.", you heard him saying whilst one of his hands moved up a bit to play with a few strands of your red hair, admiring what made the Uzumaki clan differ from others and what had brought you durig your younger years so much bullying. In that point you and Kushina had a weak spot. Getting complimented because of your hair.

"Mina, you're such a charmer, you know that?", you giggled whilst placing your hands around his shoulders, closing the last bit of gape between you two and placing a kiss on his forehead, noticing amused that his ears had turned a bit red which they always did when he felt happy and flattered, most likely when he was able to convince you into giving him affection.

You shook your head amused a bit, starting to run your own fingers through his blonde hair, making his ears turn a deeper shade of red and causing him to snuggle even closer to you, wanting all affection you could possibly give him right now instead of going to meet some man who could have any kind of thoughts when seeing you. "Just what exactly did I do to deserve you?", he sighed, loving the feeling of you caressing his hair like this.

"Sometimes I'm asking myself that as well, especially when you act so overly jealous and protective.", you replied with a playful tone in your voice, not wanting to make him think that you were angry or anything. You were sure Kushina would do that part for you when she would find out.

"I'm sorry for that. I promise I'll make it up to you somehow.", he told you, moving his face a bit up so you could see the soft smile on his face, obviously being overjoyed that you two were spending time together like this. "But you will let me join missions with others, right?", you asked him, pointing out that you hadn't done any missions since a while now except when Kushina was part of them.

A short moment of hesitation seemed to cross his face for a second before it was replaced by a slightly awkward smile. "I'll...think about it."

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere minato #yandere minato namikaze

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 2: Suspicions

AN:  Yeeaaahhh this one’s pretty much all from Levi’s POV.  Get ready for some cat and mouse, guys.

Also I’m working on a playlist.  hehehe. I love my playlists.  Some songs just fit SO WELLLLL!!!!

Characters:  Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Various BG Characters

Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Language

Word Count:  5102

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

Levi leaned against the stone wall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and the shade of the roof mostly hiding him from view as he stared pensively out at the open field.  The horse training was finished for the days, and the horses were being allowed time to roam in the open field for the time being.  One individual, however, was spending some one on one time with a mare, walking through some common techniques to get a horse to trust you.

At first, he’d wondered why she was using such a long rope, since he was fairly certain the distance between a horse and a potential rider during this exercise wasn’t supposed to be that far.  Quickly Levi realized that if she got much closer, the horse was not having it.  It was truly afraid of her, though she appeared to be making some headway, if she was able to lead the horse around on the long rope while the other horses stayed clear.

Horses that had been trained and bred to retain nerves of steel and ignore their fears, especially in the presence of Titans and the chaos of a battle, and apparently all of them were at least skittish around her.  That’s what he’d heard from the stablemaster, anyway.

Not a minor detail to be overlooked.  And a problem, if she couldn’t get around it.  Clearly, though, she was putting in the effort and time to fix it, and she didn’t mind going at the proper pace instead of trying to rush it.  From what he’d been able to observe, she was also approaching the situation with an admirable amount of patience, no outward signs of frustration or anger when she reached a setback and had to back up a foot or so on the rope instead of shortening it a little more.  Her approach changed slightly each time, too, attempting to adjust to fix whatever she’d done wrong the previous try.

Well, at least she had some positive character traits to be discovered alongside the worrisome fact about the horses he wasn’t going to ignore.  So he could give her some merit while his suspicion raised a little more.

“Captain.”

Levi turned at the sound of his title, noticing the individual approaching him from the main building, a file in hand.  He snapped a salute when he reached Levi, then held out the file for him to take.  “You asked for the file on Cadet Y/N L/N.”

Levi nodded and took the file from him.  “Thanks.  You can go,” he said in a distracted tone, already opening the file as the soldier walked away.

His eyes scanned the information in the file, which was surprisingly scarce.  Her place of residence was formerly Wall Rose, there was no living family, no record as he thought there might be after their spar.  She ranked sixth in her class--which didn’t at all match the spar they’d had, and gave further credit to his belief she was purposely holding herself back even when it mattered for placement.  Maybe she wanted to avoid the spotlight?  She wanted her talents to be recognized, but she didn’t want them front and center since she was still trying to scrape by without her full potential being noticed.  She excelled in individual evaluations, especially the physical and instinctual, but seemed to have some problem with others.  It was noted in her file that she was a loner and outcast during training, suggesting teamwork might be a point of issue with her.  The opinion of her classmates might shed some light on that matter--it could have easily been the other party and not necessarily her that was the issue.  Some of her classmates had joined the Scouts as well, if he remembered correctly, so there were some around that could be asked.

Levi reached the end of the file far sooner than he expected.

There weren’t any official documents giving age or place of birth, just an inked in note marking that she was in her early twenties--older than most new recruits, strangely enough--and the name of the town she was born in.  There weren’t any legal documents, and no visible records of her existence before she started leaving a trail behind in Wall Rose two years ago, with a rented space in her name and her official application to join the Cadet Corps the only real official documents here.

That shouldn’t have been possible.  Of course, if she lived in the Underground beforehand, it would make perfect sense for her to have no trail until she surfaced, but it was right here in ink that she was born within Wall Rose.

Had she lied?  Had she somehow managed to get topside without official immigration and slipped right through the fingers of the authorities?  The Underground would have fit a little comfortably in his working picture of her--loner, exceptionally skilled in combat and other physical areas, not having a record before two years ago, the street fighting skills…

He wasn’t going to write off the Underground yet, but how she might have gotten topside needed some fleshing out before he could consider it more seriously.

Appearing out of the blue and an unknown past only made Levi’s unease grow.  Maybe if there was more, he could have deduced what her reason for joining the military--hell, joining the Scouts--was.

More questions, and not much in the way of answers.

Dissatisfied, Levi returned to his position resting against the wall with the file now tucked under an arm, watching as the speckled grey horse with the black to white mane gradually came closer to her as the rope slowly shortened, but it’s caution and unexplained fear still kept it out of her arm's reach.

The new recruit in front of him was so nervous he was trembling.  He might have thought he was hiding it well, but it was plain as day to Levi, who was leaning against the wall sipping on his cup of tea with eyes fixed forward on the recruit sitting on the other side of his desk.  He’d called the young man in as a sort of character reference for L/N, asking him to state his opinion on the young woman’s abilities and if they were an asset to the Scouts.

His final question, however, had caused the recruit’s suddenly shifty demeanor, and Levi’s gaze narrowed slightly at him when he hesitated.

“Are there any qualities you feel she possesses that would be harmful to the Scouts?”

The recruit across from him couldn’t look Levi in the eyes, on the brink of saying something, but for some reason holding himself back.  Levi waited for several moments before there was a spark of impatience starting to grow in him.

“Spit it out.”

The recruit’s shoulders hunched slightly, and he started to haltingly speak.  “She doesn’t exactly get along with other people.”

Well, that could mean a lot of things.  Levi wasn’t the friendliest person in the world, but that didn’t stop him from doing his damn job.  Antisocial didn’t necessarily count as something that negated her ability to perform in the field.  This kid needed to be more specific.

“Does she start fights with her comrades?” Levi asked bluntly.

“No, but she has been in a few--”

“Does she fail to communicate in the field?”

“Never, though--”

“Is she incapable of working as part of a group?”

“Not really--”

“Does she take actions that could cause harm to other members of the team in the field?”

“I haven’t--”

Levi let out a slow sigh.  He kept interrupting the recruit because he didn’t need long winded answers that spun the narrative a certain way.  He already knew he couldn’t entirely trust the feedback this kid was going to give him, because either he would downplay her abilities and up-play her flaws to make himself look better, or vice versa to make her look better, all based off the assumption Levi was asking because Levi was looking to have her join his squad.

It wasn’t too far off the mark, but Levi was considering adding her less and less the farther he dug into her background.  And while he knew he couldn’t trust much of what the kid was going to say to his face, that wasn’t the point.  It was what came after this that mattered the most, and it still gave him something to work with to get a little further in his investigation.

She communicated and worked just fine in a group, and while she had been in fights before, she hadn’t been the one to start them.  It was starting to look more like harassment of some degree on the other side that kept her from interacting much with her peers.  Aside from the pretty much confirmed antisocial behavior outside of the field, of course.

“You have to be more specific than ‘she doesn’t play well with others.’  I don’t always get along with other people--that doesn’t keep me from doing my job,” Levi deadpanned.

The recruit was really struggling to get it out now, his face all twisted up as he tried to rework his words.  “While her skills are undeniable, socially, her relationship with her peers is...poor.”

Is that really what this amounted to?  No one liked her because she wasn’t friendly enough with them?  “Your complaint is that she’s not a social butterfly?”

“It’s more than that, sir, she’s not…”

Levi waited another five seconds before he decided this wasn’t being productive anymore.  Time to kick him out of the office and go on to the next part, then.  “Either come up with a solid answer, or I’ll take your silence as a no so you can leave to take care of that constipated look on your face.”

The recruit looked put out and frustrated, but he ended up standing from the chair and leaving, Levi watching him silently from over the rim of his cup and eyes lingering on the door after it had closed.

This sneaking around behind the scenes getting dirt on people was usually more Erwin’s speed, but Levi had been around Erwin long enough to pick up a few tricks of his own to use when necessary, like in moments like this.  Levi could be subtle when he wanted to.

A few moments after the recruit walked out his door, Levi finished his tea, set down the empty cup on his desk, and followed after him, keeping far enough back that he wouldn’t be noticed.  Just as he’d suspected, the recruit found his way back to another pair of recruits and proceeded to go about cathartically bitching about the situation.

Levi missed the part where the other two asked why Levi wanted to talk to him in his office, but since that wasn’t the important part, Levi wasn’t too concerned, stopping just around the corner and pressing his shoulder against the wall to listen in to what they really had to say about L/N when it wasn’t being filtered by the intimidation of speaking with a superior.

“Of course miss ice princess is being considered for Captain Levi’s squad.  Why wouldn’t she?” the recruit who had been in Levi’s office was fuming.

“I don’t get why you two are so upset--if Captain Levi’s already asking about her, surely that’s because she has the potential, right?” asked the young woman in their group.

“You didn’t train with her--you didn’t see how downright infuriating she was!  If it wasn’t for the occasional lost spar round or missed question on a test, or a margin behind someone else in an endurance test, whatever it was, she still somehow managed to look perfect.  Even if you were ahead of her, it was like she was right there behind you!”

“Not to mention she didn’t even seem to try,” the third one muttered.

“Exactly!  We’d work our asses off, and then she would waltz in and do whatever they asked her to as if it was as natural as breathing!  It was so--so--so infuriating!”

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” the woman surmised.

“Wouldn’t you be upset?  She didn’t even try!  Then to make matters worse, she always acted like she was above us.  Yeah she usually beat us all in everything, but she didn’t even try to be nice about it.”

“Yeah--I know this girl who tried to be friends with her part way through training.  But she was always treating her like a plague--she’d move further away from her, or she’d ignore her attempts to talk to her or actively dodge her.  She made it pretty damn clear she wasn’t in the Corps to make friends.  And she was like that with everyone--she never let anyone get closer than necessary to her.  Sure, she’d give you some tips in the middle of training, but it was always just what was necessary, and she never let the conversation move to anything personal.  She’s a bitch,” the friend added.

“I figured all that time spent by herself, she was just focused on her training.  It got me certain that she was going to be top of the class--some say she should have.  Hell, I thought she’d be pissed when she got sixth, but I swear she looked pleased.  Pleased!  And I thought she wanted to at least make the top five with how fucking perfect she seemed.”

“Okay, so she was antisocial in training and she’s good enough at what she did that it made you all jealous.  I still don’t see anything that would make you hate her so much.  I’ve seen her around a few times and she doesn’t seem nearly as frigid as you all say.  Distant, yeah, but she seems...warm, if a bit melancholy,” the woman said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let it fool you.  She’s probably just trying to make a better impression now that she’s where she wants to be and is about to get placed--possibly in the best squad, now, too, apparently.”  There was the sound of a boot scuffing the stone, then a thwack of a broom handle being thumped against the offender’s head.  “Ow!  And she’s not warm and she’s not innocent.  I don’t know what she was doing, but she was up to something during training, even if we couldn’t prove it.”

“Oh?  And what was it?  She managed to get an extra loaf of bread on her plate?” the woman asked almost mockingly.  Clearly she wasn’t convinced by their ranting.

“One of the most infuriating things about her was how she could break the rules and still get away with it!  She used to sneak out all the time at night while we were in the Cadets, but no one could ever catch her.  Even when we gave the instructors a warning that she would be sneaking out again soon, she still wouldn’t get caught, and we’d get in trouble for lying about a classmate.  Not once was she caught, and we had classmates that could attest to her not being in bed at some point in the night, so we knew it was happening!  But we could never prove it.  It still drives me nuts to this day!”

“If you kick this floor again, I’ll hit you even harder--you are not messing up the cleaning job I’ve been working so hard on!” the woman fumed suddenly, and there was a bit of a scuffle before things calmed down again.

“I swear, if Captain Levi puts her on his squad I’m going to be so fucking--”

“Look at the bright side, you probably won’t have to deal with her anymore if that happens, because you’re nowhere near that league,” the friend teased.  It sounded like there was going to be another scuffle breaking out, so Levi finally stepped around the corner to make himself known.

“Oi.”

The two boys immediately panicked, while the woman snapped to attention, eyes flickering to a fresh scuff mark on the stone with a clearly upset face to see the two were already back to mucking up her hard work.  Levi ignored the two who were scrambling to their feet and trying to snap to a salute, walking past all three without even glancing at them.

“Get back to cleaning.  And find another place to bitch about superiors,” he added before he continued down the hall and out of earshot once more.

Idiots.

There was nothing wrong with a little bitching to get it out of your system, but at least have the decency to do it somewhere less public where anyone could find and hear you.

However, Levi officially had some honest first hand accounts of her relationship to her peers, and a lead he could follow further into this mystery.

She snuck out a lot at night when she was in the cadets, huh?  He wondered if she was still doing that now…

It seemed he had something to do now in the hours insomnia kept him from sleeping.  He could keep an eye out to see if she was sneaking out, and try to figure out where she was going on these little escapades if they were, in fact, continuing after leaving the Cadets.

The more he looked into her, the more uneasy he became.  He was already at the point where he knew he was going to have to bring up his concerns to Erwin, but he was going to make sure he’d gone as far as he could with this investigation of his before he went to Erwin.

For the first few nights after hearing about L/N’s nightly escapades in the cadets, Levi didn’t catch anything amiss.  He was well aware of the best spots in this building to sneak out at this point, and had several points he liked to retreat to for some alone time that just happened to give him a good view of the surrounding area.  He was fairly confident that if she tried to sneak out, he would be able to spot her as long as he was looking--which he was.

By the fifth night, he seriously considered the possibility that if she was doing something shady such as meeting a co-conspirator in the the night, the wise thing would be to cut all communication once she was inside the Scouts.  If her nightly actions were something dastardly like that, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t see her sneak out because she wouldn’t make the attempts now in such a high risk area.

Still, Levi kept an eye out, always near a window at night so he could peer out into the darkness and see anyone trying to slip away if it did happen.

At long last, almost three weeks after the recruits had first arrived, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a hooded figure moving in the darkness away from the building.  Believing it to be L/N, he got up from his seat immediately, taking the less forgiving but more direct route of climbing out the window and down to the ground so he could close the distance before she left his sight entirely and he lost track of her.  Going through the building down to the ground floor and to a proper exit would have taken him too long, so his unconventional route was one he didn’t second guess.

Landing quietly on the paved stones, Levi crept forward at a walk that was barely restrained from becoming a jog for the first few moments, keeping to the shadows like his quarry as he attempted to follow after her.  He wasn’t armed in case there was trouble, mostly because he didn’t get the luxury of enough time to grab a weapon--he’d only caught a fleeting glimpse, so he’d had to act instantly.

Levi managed to catch up to where he would want to be on a tail after two streets, feeling himself settle down internally once he was the desired distance away.  She didn’t slow down, plowing forwards with a purpose that told him she knew exactly where she was going and she was going to waste no time getting there--he just had to keep up.

Yes, she.  He didn’t have confirmation that it was her, but he was operating off the assumption it was between the story he’d heard and the fact he’d been waiting for something like this to happen and her to be the culprit.

He continued to follow her street after street, taking several corners, occasionally losing sight of her before he caught movement again and continued on the path.  After a few minutes, however, he realized these direction changes weren’t exactly pointed and purposeful, but random.  They happened too suddenly and without warning for them to be planned.

She knew he was following her, and she was trying to shake him.

Hoping to make her think that she lost him, Levi slowed down his pace, allowing her to pull a little further ahead, far enough away it would be more difficult for him to follow, but at the same time it would give her the impression that he was too far away and that she lost him.

Levi managed to make it a few more streets this way, catching the edge of a cape or a flash of movement as she turned a corner to give him a direction, until suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear footsteps or any other sound in the night, and he no longer had even a fleeting visual on her in order to give him a sense of direction.

That wasn’t possible.  Pulling back had been risky, yes, but he’d been sure he could still keep track of her.  And he should have at least been able to hear footsteps in the distance, because she would have had to speed up to lose him so suddenly.

Did she have ODM gear hidden under her cape?  Had she taken for the skies to get out of visible range of the streets?

Wanting to test the theory before she could get too far, Levi used window sills, boxes by stalls, wooden awnings, whatever he could to climb up to the roof of one of the buildings, turning around swiftly with his head on a swivel as he tried to catch a glimpse of movement, a figure moving through the night either on ODM gear or on the streets down below.

Nothing.  It was just him standing alone on this roof in the night’s silence.

Where the hell had she gone?

“Levi...why didn’t you bring this to my attention sooner?”

Levi scowled, meeting Erwin’s serious expression head on before he turned to move again, occasionally crossing the floor at an extremely slow pace, stopping for a while before he would turn around and move again.  Considering Levi usually remained stationary, it counted as a sign of unease.

He had just come to Erwin with what he knew about L/N, which admittedly wasn’t much.  For the most part, he was simply telling Erwin about his concerns and a bad feeling that he’d been harboring since meeting her.  He did have some legitimate red flags, like her apparent trips out into the night that were continuing here at the Scouts and her lack of a record from before two years ago with nothing to show she might have been from the Underground.

“Because it was just basic curiosity at first, but the more I heard, the more I had to be concerned about,” Levi said pointedly, lips pulled down in a prominent frown as he mulled over everything in his mind.

“Well, based off what you’ve been able to find out, if she is a threat, how much of a threat would she be,” Erwin asked patiently, his eyes continuing to track Levi as he moved about the room.  Levi stopped, turning his head slightly in Erwin’s direction.

“Erwin...she had me.  In that spar on the training grounds.  But at the last second, she shifted and threw the match,” Levi explained quietly.

“...I see.”

Levi turned around all the way to see Erwin sitting forward in his chair, hands laced together in front of him and pressed against his lips, eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Don’t mark her as an enemy in your mind, yet, Levi.  Let this play out a while longer, first.  This may be a situation where we need to spring the trap after it’s set to truly know the situation.  So far, she hasn’t done anything to hurt humanity’s mission regarding the Titans.  I don’t like how many unknowns there are with her, either, which is precisely why we have to approach this correctly.  There’s as much a chance we could be wrong as there is that we can be right about her intentions.”  Erwin’s hands carefully folded back over one another on top of the table, Erwin turning his gaze on Levi with that expression of his that usually appeared when he was mentally calculating a gamble.  “Continue your investigation as you see fit, so long as you don’t outright antagonize her.  We don’t want to risk driving her off, if these skills your glimpsing are as strong as your intuition tells you they are.  She could still be a great asset if she’s truly on our side.  Keep an eye on her, try to figure out at least if her intentions align with our own or run against them.”

“And you?” Levi asked suspiciously, looking to see if that gambling air about Erwin was tipping over into the dangerous side of things.

Erwin hummed.  “I’ll do some digging of my own, see what I can find.  Of course, if you can’t find anything concrete by the next expedition, going beyond the walls will allow you to get not only a stronger grasp on the skills she’s bringing to the table, but will help with figuring out her general intentions.”

“I don’t like the thought of having to babysit while we’re out there,” Levi returned flatly.  Expeditions were far too unpredictable as they were without adding a mysterious woman of unknown capabilities and intentions along for the ride with the task to keep a sharp eye on her and evaluate her every move.

“Then perhaps you’ll want to find out if you can trust her out there or not, first.  I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition,” Erwin said with a pointed look.  Levi could already tell this mess might get a little ugly, but at the very least, knowing he could trust her not to turn and kill someone on the expedition would go a long way in making his job digging into her background a lot easier.

After Levi gave a nod of confirmation, Erwin continued.  “In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s placed in the formation so that she’s within your sight at all times.  Considering the rumors you’ve stirred up that you might be looking to recruit her to your squad, it would only make sense for you to be watching her out in the field to see how she does.  It’s also a nice excuse for you to make a few more direct inquiries to L/N, herself.  You’ve done plenty of work in the background, I think it’s safe to say you can start approaching her as well.  Subtly, of course.”

“After she shook me last night, she might already be on edge,” Levi pointed out.  She had to have known someone followed her.  There were no guarantees that she knew it was Levi, and he didn’t think she’d had the chance to confirm who was following her any more than he’d had a chance to confirm if he was following her.

“Then be careful about it.  But whenever you come to a decision about whether she’s a danger or not, I want to know.  This will go a lot smoother and faster if we’re sharing information.”

“I’m not stupid, Erwin,” Levi said with a long-suffering sigh, straightening up.  “Anything else?”

Erwin’s lips twitched upwards towards a smile, his hands moving to a drawer to pull out some paper and ink.  “Have fun making a new friend.”

Levi scowled again, turning to leave after it was clear Erwin was ready to move on to the next thing.  He was a little worried about this task to test L/N’s intentions to help the scouts before going out into the field, especially because he knew that look of Erwin’s meant he would set it up and Levi would simply have to observe.

But, he did have his own ways of testing her out as a person, and some people he could get to help without having to inform them of everything behind it.  He was already observing her from a distance and could safely continue to do so.  With the rumors going around he was looking to take her in under his wing, he could use that to his advantage to ask a few questions and approach her at the right times.

Yet, despite the fact he knew he would have help in prodding at her to see a bit more of what she was made of, he couldn’t help but notice that his sense of unease that had been tickling in the back of his mind was not shrinking.  If anything, it only seemed more prevalent.  As long as he continued to have this feeling of unease about her, he wasn’t going to let the matter rest.  He was going to figure out what she was hiding, if only so he could assuage or confirm his suspicions before they grew wildly out of control.

At least it seemed Erwin shared his concern, confirming it wasn’t all in his head, and there was cause to worry.  He only hoped they could figure out what was going on here before they had to spring the trap, as Erwin had suggested.

Levi shook his head.  He could worry about that, later.  First, he had a recruit to get a feel of before they went outside the walls, and he had to make sure he didn’t spook her while learning what made her tick.

Thankfully, he already had a pretty good idea where to find her in her down time, with all the work she’d been putting in to fix the one glaring flaw in her ability to go outside the walls.

The stables.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs

#levi ackerman #captain levi #levi aot #aot levi #levi snk #snk levi #attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #levi heichou #levi shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin levi #vampire!reader #levi x reader #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot levi x reader #levi x vampire!reader #captain levi x vampire!reader #levi ackerman x vampire!reader #aot levi x vampire!reader #levi fanfiction #levi fan fiction #levi fanfic #levi fan fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fan fiction #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman fan fic #captain levi fan fiction #captain levi fan fic

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

@sajdd

Ok since one singular person asked for this the Big Explanation for Everything In My C!Tommy Design.

General:

c!Tommy, in general, I always try and find a balance between my really soft style and c!Tommy's rougher personality. I draw him with soft features but very sharp eyes, both to make his facial features distinct from cc!Tommy and a contrast to c!Tubbo who I draw with less rounded features but much softer eyes. I try and keep his usual expressions slightly smug and self-assured, to get across c!Tommy's bravado.

I generally draw him with tanned skin, as I imagine he’d spend a lot of time outdoors. This does vary on the arc I’m drawing him in, though, for example he’s much less tan in Pogtopia because he has less access to natural light whereas he’s more tan in exile due to not having much shelter from the sun. This is also done to make the pale scar on his nose bridge more noticeable- it’s one of the two scars I draw Tommy as having from the beginning, as I feel it shows c!Tommy's scrappy, determined personality very well. The other scar is a long jagged vivisection scar which is there to show my labinnit headcanon lol.

While I draw c!Tommy with varying hairstyles and lengths, I always draw him with curly textured hair that’s a very pale blond. I also draw his hair as leaning to one side and partially covering his eye, similar to how I draw c!Wilbur's hair, to show their closeness. I also draw c!Tommy with similar wings to c!Wilbur and c!Philza- specifically, I draw them with the same starry night sky pattern I do with c!Philza, but a lot smaller and atrophied.

I really like putting lots of fun design elements in characters eyes because drawing eyes is fun and c!Tommy is no exception! I draw his eyes a very bright electric blue, and I use a small brush and very light varied colours to make them look like they’re filled with little stars. I also give him red pupils to match his main colour association in either the shape of a full or broken heart depending on the arc. I went with a heart design to show his hidden kindness and loyalty.

There’s also a lot of design elements that are admittedly there primarily because I enjoy drawing them, and less for any specific reason. The fangs do have the most reason, to help show c!Tommy's rougher personality, but I also just like drawing fangs lol. (I also draw him with braces in every arc, since I imagine he couldn’t get them removed in exile and he didn’t have the time to care afterwards). I also draw him with bioluminescent, starlike freckles and a strange blood colour which is also used to help texture the skin (well, slightly, it’s not super noticeable but it’s pink instead of red) which are both just things I like to draw.

Also, this is a small detail, but I always draw c!Tommy with a Church Prime necklace (unless I forget it which I do sometimes lol). It’s a good way of showing his faith through a quick look.

Fun fact, what’s probably most noticeable about my c!Tommy design is that as soon as Tommy made the joke about his character being made in a lab I picked it up and ran with it, specifically the idea of him potentially being a clone of c!Philza. I draw them with identical facial features and hair colour/texture, though a lot of the more supernatural features of c!Philza are toned down on him. That’s specifically because due to my hc that c!Philza is an angel and angels as ageless it’d be impossible to clone them exactly so c!Tommy has some random human/hybrid dna thrown in haphazardly (which also makes him a mess of instincts from pretty much every animal ever lol)

Disc War:

I really like the headcanon that c!Tommy was nine during the L'Manburg war entirely because its really funny to imagine c!Wilbur looking at this literal nine year old and being “yes, my right hand man, responsible enough to help manage a nation in my stead,” so c!Tommy is roughly 9ish around this time in my design.

During the early Disc War is probably the only time I actually draw c!Tommy as close to his actual Minecraft skin lmao. It helps show that, despite the fact I don’t hc him as human he is mostly just a normal kid. I don’t draw c!Tommy in the traditional red and white t-shirt entirely just because I want to make sure he’s not mistakable for Dave Strider though. I have him in a white button-up shirt, a red and white hoodie, cargo pants, and trainers.

During this arc, I draw c!Tommy's hair as fairly short and very similar to how I draw c!Wilbur, as this was back when he idolised his brother and I think drawing their hair so similar shows that well.

L'Manburg:

This covers the time from the beginning of the L'Manburg war up to c!Tommy's second exile to Pogtopia, so this design covers a period of years from when I hc c!Tommy was nine up until about thirteen.

During the war, c!Tommy wears his uniform without modification, except for of course wearing his Prime necklace, but afterwards he and the rest of the residents of L'Manburg (except c!Wilbur) slightly modified their uniforms to better fit their own tastes. Specifically, he wears his trainers instead of combat boots, loose trousers instead of shorts, and a slightly shorter and short-sleeved revolutionary jacket, for easier mobility.

During the war, his two canon deaths left him permanent injuries and scars. His death in the final control room, where he broke his leg during his desperate attempt to escape, left that leg permanently weakened (along with being badly scarred) and requiring a leg brace to help him stand and walk properly. The arrow through his skull during his duel with c!Dream left him with a large scar on his temple, covering his brows in crack-like scars which also leave him with frequent migraines.

During the L'Manburg arc, c!Tommy's hair in my design still looks like c!Wilburs as they were still close during this arc.

Pogtopia:

Since Pogtopia apparently lasted two years (which is probably from Cursed Timeline Lore but I love cursed lore it’s hilarious,) c!Tommy would be around 13 to 15 here.

In Pogtopia, I draw c!Tommy as wearing similar clothes to during the Disc War arc, however, I also add on a loose belt holding knives, to show c!Tommy's increased need for self defence along with his fondness for knives lol. I actually don’t do the bandanna design with c!Tommy and c!Tubbo a lot of people do mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to get it to work with c!Tommy's hoodie. They have an equivalent but it’s later on alas.

As c!Tommy and c!Wilbur get more distant, c!Tommy grows out his hair slightly, and wears it tied in the back in a short ponytail.

Exile:

Oh I have a lot of things to talk about here >:). As a quick note to my messed up timeline, c!Tommy would be 15 here.

During exile, c!Tommy wears the same clothes as he did in Pogtopia initially, though due to lack of care and supplies, they eventually of course fray and rip. He also wears c!Wilbur's old ragged longcoat, even though it barely keeps out the cold, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes weirdly comforting. Over time, he rips up his shirt for bandages to the point he’s not wearing anything under his hoodie. His leg brace breaks and he makes a new one out of branches and leaves. (He could ask c!Dream, but he doesn’t want to be fucking reliant on him, relying on pity handouts like a child, so he won’t.)

Eventually, since c!Dream doesn’t exactly want c!Tommy to get hypothermia and die anticlimactically, he gives c!Tommy one of his capes. This is one of my favourite character design decisions I’ve made lmao. I specifically draw it looking too-big, despite the fact that doesn’t make much sense because they’re the same height, so it looks almost like he’s getting enveloped in c!Dream's green shades, and it also hides c!Tommy's wings which helps reinforce the loss of freedom.

c!Tommy gains… a lot of scars over exile. I mean he was literally hit by an axe multiple times. Specifically they’re primarily around the shoulders or the torso. I also draw him with a Glasgow grin, specifically curved to resemble Dream's mask, along with smaller, self inflicted, scratch and bite marks covering his arms. In addition, due to him barely eating I draw c!Tommy from this point onwards looking very scrawny. This is also where c!Tommy's pupils change from hearts to broken hearts! They never turn back :)

During exile, Tommy's hair grows out a lot, down to just past his shoulders, in a matted mess. c!Dream used to braid it at the back, like how I draw c!Dream's own hair, but it very quickly grew too matted with saltwater, mud, and blood to style :) :) :)

Bedrock Bros:

c!Tommy turns sixteen here during my scuffed timeline.

c!Tommy patches up the rips and tears in his clothes. He can’t fully salvage his cargo trousers, so he turns them into shorts. He makes his own shoes out of leather to replace the ones he lost. There’s a gaping hole in his hoodie pocket that couldn’t be stitched up. He'll patch it up later. c!Techno gives him one of his capes to keep him warm, fur lined and arctic blue with silvery snowflakes embroidered on. c!Tommy has to be reminded, or he puts on the green cape, turned a dull viridian from the sun, that makes him feel both safe and so, so afraid.

Scars heal, but never fully fade. Still, his eyes brighten again, somewhat, even if the bags under his eyes less disappear and more just turn a strange gold. He finally has the time to clean out his hair, and c!Techno ties it into a short, loose braid at the back. With the cape, he almost looks like c!Techno like that. Obviously, the visual implication here is to show that even though it’s obviously not exile, c!Techno is still suppressing c!Tommy's identity, albeit unknowingly (and the gold is from his constant eating of golden apples).

Final Disc War:

By this point, c!Tommy's back to just wearing his old clothes, tattered and frail as they might be. He finds his old sneakers, and day by day he sees himself in the mirror a bit more than the gunpowder on a battered trenchcoat, blood on a smiley face mask, wither rot on the edges of an elaborate snowy cape. He patches the hole in his hoodie with a piece of the fabric from one of c!Tubbo's old shirts. He lends him one of his too-small hoodies so he can do the same.

He still braids his hair, but in his own way, in a tightly woven ratstail braid more for convenience than for aesthetics. Character design wise, it’s another way to show c!Tommy's openly rougher personality than say, c!Dream or c!Techno, and so’s the patchwork clothes and rough shorts and scars. Like I said, maintaining a mix of rough and soft is very important to me in how I draw c!Tommy, and I’m very satisfied with how I pull it off here and in the next entry.

Revival:

the story has handed me the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead. i will not pass up the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead.

After revival, c!Tommy stops aging, at least in appearance. His skin… less pale, more colourless and almost grey. One of his eyes glows a pure, empty white now, like ghosts do, and the white messy streak in his hair doesn’t glow but it’s white enough it might as well.

The injuries of his death bear apparent on his form. His limbs can bend at impossible angles, his entire body covered head to toe in bruises. Two black eyes cover his face like a raccoon mask, and the ugly mottled marks of strangulation on his throat stand out like a sore thumb. You cannot look at him anymore and not see that he hasn’t died. He avoids mirrors again.

There’s stranger things, too, like how he doesn’t bleed anymore, any cuts just revealing an impossibly dark void beneath his marble-cold skin. Sometimes he goes weeks without eating, the hunger only hitting once he realises. He feels so tired, so cold, in a way not even the touch of fire can stem at all. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, or breathe.

Initially, he was too tired, too out of it to even consider cutting off or dying the white streak. When he wasn’t, he’d soon learn any attempts were futile, dye fading in mere days, cut off hair half regrown in a week. It should bother him more, but he just feels numb.

#dream smp #dsmp #c!tommy #tw abuse #tw mutilation #tw scars #tw bruises #tw death #tw child death #tw murder #tw child murder

[jjkpls]

crayons ‘set’ (PG)

> genre : fluffy fluff, light angst, comedy

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 3.8k

> warnings : none (except a rusty quill)

>Y/N, a primary school teacher, is way too soft for the quiet, timid new child in her class. Little did she know, the adult version, who engendered this cutie, is even more charming.

> prior

> next

The principle of balance. 

It’s a curious concept. Like most of the things that turn people into different versions of themselves, just from an unconscious force brought to light by the sheer inner sense of competition that inhabits every single person. It’s quieter in some people. Feel non-existent sometimes. But it’s here, dormant, just waiting on the right trigger to awaken. 

You didn't think you would see it in Jimmy. The little boy lacks completely self-confidence and affirmation. But a voice and a stance, easily remarkable, end up fitting him.

It turns out that you witness it quite quickly after the Progress has started. And it manifests in the most adorable and comical of ways. 

It’s been a few weeks since you've met his dad. There wasn’t much to talk about with him yet. Every day, longer lingerings of the gaze, less tucking away in the far back of the rest of the group, more definite wordless participations during class -nodding and clapping along. The progress you've been wholly satisfied with but nothing so drastically different that you thought necessary to call his father in for. 

Nothing absolutely astonishing. Therefore you didn’t call and what a surprise this one Thursday afternoon turns out to be when he appears at your class’s doorway.

He’s wearing very casual clothes, a simple light linen shirt and some distended jeans to pair, sneakers and his hair -you've only seen neatly tucked to the side- is floating about his forehead, freshly washed and devoid of any wax. It’s a pleasant surprise, especially with the evident appearance of calm and quiet tranquillity he’s carrying. 

This man looks rather handsome when he’s on vacation, stressless and well-rested and seemingly content, you note.

“Mr Kim?”

He looks up from his son he is holding the hand of, eyes wide and bewildered as he stares a little. You chuckle, confused but amused. He’s the one paying you a surprise visit but he’s shocked when you do talk to him?

“Is it bad timing? I can come back another day...” From the look he’s giving you, or more accurately, barely sparing you, body already aiming for the corridor, you wonder if you should return the question. It'd be cruel though, to tease, therefore you choose to simply shake your head and insist on him walking in. And then it happens, the man can’t take a step inside, for some reason. He’s just paralysed, looking like a million contradicting thoughts are fighting inside his brain and he simply cannot make out the best option, if he would or not step in; and it’s Jimmy who takes the decision for him. Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance, he pushes against his father's leg, small hands pulling the bigger one towards him. It’s like watching a tiny mouse trying to drag along a giraffe. It has little to no physical effect until there’s an aggravated tiny whine of “appa”. He moves, at last, letting himself stood in front of me before Jimmy lets go of his hand. 

He gives you a look you're not sure you interpret well. Dark eyes all serious, attention loud, he seems to be intrusting his father to you. A gentle smile, hiding your teeth biting back a hilarious grin, sends him away towards the very back of the room. Taking a seat next to the bookshelf, it takes Jimmy a few minutes only after you've diverted your attention from him to grab an image book and start going through it patiently.

He's so comfortable. Almost too comfortable. He looks strange, like that. Strange because different from usual but still, oddly, it fits him well. It's like a projection, a little vision of a future little boy, easygoing, at peace with himself and his environment, that won't take too long to be born again.

And it's now the dad who's acting weird. He's standing on his two never-ending legs, the tip of his fingers toying nervously with the button of his vest, his mouth keeps teasing, opening slightly, as if about to spill a word, only to shut itself right up, a lightly aggravated sigh following soon after. It happens quite a couple of times until you get tired of waiting. Tired of the eyes avoiding you, the tension heavy for no particular reason that you could decipher, you ring him awake with an abrupt overexaggerated clearing of your throat.

"Mr Kim?" He's confounded again, caught off guard somehow. "Did you mean to discuss something with me?" It's hard to make an adult talk, you realise. Sometimes children can be difficult. Put aside Jimmy's case, sometimes children are like that. Making them want to share, especially when they are at that age where they can't express themselves and their ideas as well as they wish they could, frustration, laziness at times can get the better of them and having a fairly constructed conversation with them is like pulling teeth out of a very adamant, unwilling person. But you manage. Adults, on the other hand, have never been too much of your cup of tea. There's a reason why you chose to spend the better part of your weeks with children instead of adults. You're not that terrible at getting along with them, you do it pretty well, honestly. But the reason is probably the fact that you're not difficult. You're convenient as a person, always willing to help, always trying to be positive, you do not get in people's way and most of the times, it's enough to make it through.

You don't deal with adults the way you deal with children. With great pleasure and passion, you insert yourself into your pupils' existence, try to leave a mark and help them have the better, feel the better, be the better. Adults, you don't get too involved. They sound complicated, complexed, too many compromises, too many facets. You know because you are one too.

And Mr Kim, looking all nervous and troubled seem the very embodiment of this bias you have. He looks some sort of troubles. Probably nothing that terrible. He appears too childish for it to be that grave. But he's serious about it, about the anxiety, the struggle, the uneasiness he's feeling, you can tell, just from the way he hasn't been able to look at you in the eyes since he appeared in your class. Still, whatever it is, will cost some of your time, and with that, might clog up some very much needed space you require in this busy head of yours.

It's happened before. A new neighbour trying to get closer to you, maybe because they've just moved in the city, didn't know anyone, and you looked friendly enough and they needed someone to listen to the exhaustive list of all the things that made them leave their hometown -even though, you don't necessarily care for any of it. Or a colleague, trying to get you involved in their office dramas, simply because people need the attention, the feeling of importance and support.

Quite frankly, you've never been interested in any of them. Adults sound like too much work, especially given the fact that, as filled with flaws as they are, they are a pain, and often impossible, to fix. And they say things they don't mean. And they want things that they don't need. Their words and their acts hardly ever match. They're for the most part unrecoverable and unfixable, and you don't want any of it.

But Mr Kim and his dimples -invisible to the eye at the moment, but that you realise marked your brain so strongly you can picture them exactly where they should be winking- are piquing your interest. You're ninety-nine per cent sure it is not about Jimmy but you'd like to know. Never mind that curiosity killed the cat.

“Yes, uh-“ Clearing of the throat, scratching of the neck and more clearing of the throat. “about last time...”

You're lost. For a second, your body freezes to give your brain its full capacity to wreck through the whole place and retrieve a memory that seems to have been lost somehow, somewhere. You have no idea what time he is referring to. 

He seems so invested, so intensely experiencing his emotions you're left shocked and deeply embarrassed to not remember something that had that effect on him yet didn’t leave a single trace on you. 

He insists then, having to face your transparent confusion. The more you stand in pure oblivion, the more awkward he gets. Stuttering more, an accent, very deep, adding rough edges to his voice, colouring his words with new shades that you've never heard before.

“Mr Kim-“

“Namjoon.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“No, it’s me, I am, I’m-“ You will, later, feel terrible for it. It’s undeniable. But right now, facing this grown-ass man, usually so collected now decomposing in the most adorable red-cheeked boyish thing, you can only start laughing. It renders him speechless which in a way is almost an improvement and when you finally can restrain the giggles from bubbling straight from your belly, you start again,

“Maybe take a deep breath, take your time.” You bite your lip down to the blood, poorly concealing your grin when he actually does it. “What did you mean by ‘last time’?” You're mortified to ask, honestly, persuaded that you should know but at this point, it’s pretty mean but you don’t think you can embarrass yourself that much in front of him, not when he’s been such a mess himself. 

“When we met. When I came to talk about my son.” Calmly, diligently he answers. Like a good boy answering his teacher’s question, a shadow of worry covering his usually sharp gaze. 

“Oh, what about it?” Curiosity melts with confusion as you refrain yourself from pressing him further into elaborating faster, eager as you are to understand. You were sure he was not going to talk about him. 

“I’d been a bit much and I wanted to apologise personally to you.”

Been a bit much? 

“In what sense? I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s just- I poured myself and our luggage on you when you’re- I know you care about my son but I shouldn’t have, I don’t know, I shouldn’t have-“

You hate cutting people off. It’s a terrible habit you are constantly trying to teach your students to drop. But here he is, struggling to express an idea that irks you strongly. Is he able to put the words he needs? Does he even know them in his own mother tongue or do they even exist? Maybe what he's trying to express are pure emotions. Unease coming from a heart shameful for having shown itself vulnerable to a stranger. You'd know about this feeling. You've experienced it plenty of times, throughout all your life. Even if it wasn’t in the form of you stripping your heart off to someone, like he did, simply showing that you cared gave you the same sense of vulnerability, of terrifying exposure you've always had a hard time dealing with. 

You hate the idea that he regrets it, especially with you. At that time, you could tell he had words to pour out. You were glad, you were even enchanted to be the one helping out no matter how small you just assumed your impact to have been. And now, he's trying to say that he regrets it?

“You said you were thankful to have someone to talk to.”

“I did say that.” He mumbles, pressing the pad of his fingers against his closed eyes. 

“Then don’t regret it. I don’t want you to be embarrassed about this, seriously. I had parents do way more, actually embarrassing, things in my career. Don’t even worry about it.” He’s thinking it over. You can tell your words have little to no impact on his bruised ego. “I’m not sure how appropriate it is for me to say that but if you need it, whenever in the future, don’t hesitate. I’m not a psychologist, but I’m just- I’m willing to listen if it can help. I mean me or anyone else, really, you should in general just share. It’s important. You don’t want Jimmy to mimic such bad habits like so, holding in and all.” You may be talking too much. The man just looks so eager to hear those words and it spurs you on. “You really shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I can understand the feeling, where it comes from, but it’s pointless with me.”

“You’re really kind.” You give a smile, only. It’s not much but you're pretty sure it’s the genuineness tinting it that renders it enough. Again, he seems surprised. As bewildered as last time but undoubtedly convinced. “I’m glad he has you as his teacher.”

Your cheeks burn intensely. You don’t know how conscious he is of his words. If he realises that he perfected the art of flattery and of slipping people in his pocket. He really did. Especially when he’s leaning slightly towards you, gaze intense and on you now that the embarrassment has vanished for the most part and he can bear looking at you, seemingly hanging out for any other words you may have in stock.

There’s nothing left for you to say though. It takes you quite a few attempts to skim over your brain, trying to formulate a sentence, any word, but you come out completely empty. You can’t even stutter a thank you from how utterly flustered you're feeling. 

Therefore you choose the easy way out. Waltzing on your heels to give him your back, your hands reaching to the barely messy top of your desk to pretend they’re busy. You believe yourself to have been sleek enough but apparently not so -maybe it’s the fact that you're just picking up stuff to put them exactly where they belong, at the exact same place. 

“Was I inappropriate? I’m really sorry, Mrs ___. Sometimes I just talk too much and I don’t realise that maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Please stop apologising. It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re just- You saying nice things that you mean,” You stumble upon the last words as if maybe you're getting over your own head to just assume and claim so loud that he must mean the sweet things he said to you but that bashful yet adorable expression he's wearing, with the eyes a bit wide and the bottom lip munched, fill you with a regain of confidence, “can’t be an issue. It’s just unexpected and- I mean you’re fine you can say whatever you want. I mean I’m not asking for more compliments, I’m just saying-“

It’s terribly unnerving. You don’t know what impression you're giving off as a teacher. Lacking so much elocution, scrambling to form sentences and turning into a messy, overwhelmed emotional mess. 

“I don’t mind giving you more compliments, Mrs ___.” Here comes that curious principle of balance again. You're half-dying of mortification and he seems to be having fun, smiling kindly, with a hint of something else -amusement, maybe even smudginess. 

Is he flirting with me? There’s no way he’s flirting. I think I’m losing my mind. 

“It’s Miss, actually.” You swear to yourself, silently, that you're not flirting back -assuming he is, in fact, doing just that- and you just mean to be called by an accurate name. 

“Oh.” He almost gasps. Looking shocked and you don’t understand what’s going on anymore. Was he really not flirting? Why does he look so shaken as if you misinterpreted his intentions and now he’s misinterpreting yours and think you're getting over your head -because you're not, you were not flirting!

“I’m not flirting with you, I’m just clarifying!” 

You hate this whole conversation. You hate yourself, your life and anything and everything that may or may not have led you to this tragic instant.

You're positive you screamed a little. You get confirmation of just that from the tiny mop of hair bouncing up in your peripheral vision, as Jimmy gives you two a slightly concerned, curious look. 

The tension is blatant. It's a mixture of irritation, of anxiety, of embarrassment. You couldn't have messed up any worse than you did and you positively want to simply die, right about now.

The mere thought that you'll have to live with this humiliation not only for the whole day ahead, blatantly hanging out at the back of your head, sometimes probably too close to your consciousness for any sense of comfort to ever inhabit you again, but for your entire life makes you want to throw yourself out the window. You decide not to indulge in the pressing pulsion only because you're on the ground floor, therefore, it would be pointless if not even more humiliating.

Mr Kim, somehow, helps a little. By not wearing a mask of pure revolt, revulsion or aggravation. He stares soundly, expression not giving off much to work with. Just enough to understand he is not mad, simply lost in his own thoughts he doesn't seem too keen on sharing.

A spark of sensibility blooms suddenly in your brain. You're so thankful for it, you jump right on it, grab it with your two hands and start again, as if nothing happened, as if you haven't just humiliated yourself in front of this man (and his son), "Jimmy has made a lot of progress, I've noted."

Mr Kim blinks a few times, unnaturally so. "Yeah? I mean, yes, I've noticed too, actually." He keeps staring with the same obnoxiously loud thoughts running in his mind. His brain is on full activity mode. It's obvious. And he doesn't care too much about talking about his son right this second (even though he doesn't seem to care much about sharing what's going through that private head of his either).

How disappointing. You sincerely thought the one subject that matters the most to him would successfully tear the attention away from you but you're a fool. Apparently, even the cute little bean of a son he has can't divert the attention from the humiliation you've just submitted yourself to.

"Anyway, I won't hold any more of your time, you must have work to attend to."

"Actually I'm not working today. I have the day off." Your lip now too sensitive, you attack the inner part of your cheek with your teeth -thankfully you've turned your back to him again, feigning observing with great attention something through the windows- to stop yourself from screeching. It takes him so long, so fucking long for him to decide, finally, that maybe he should leave. The longest dozens of seconds of your life. Staring outside, picturing him behind you, probably watching you wondering to himself how you can be so lame and how he could have thought you a good fit to be his precious son's teacher. "Ah, I should leave anyway. Your class is about to start?"

"Ah, yes. Well, thanks for passing by. I hope you rest well." It's the least genuine you've been with this man, and anyone for the matter, in so long. Your heart and mind are in such a shamble you don't actually remember the reason for his coming and if, really, anything positive came out of this conversation.

It's ridiculous how you feel, all bothered and nervous, aggravated with him for making you feel so flustered. You give him the most convincing fake smile you own, not taking the time to check if he buys it as you don't dare lingering your attention on him for any longer than the blink of the eye takes.

When he leaves, only after having scattered a bunch of smooches on Jimmy's face, you find yourself breathing again. It's like you've been holding in for so long, you're getting dizzy at the taste of oxygen again, heart beating furiously in your chest, sweating all over.

Fuck, that was painful.

You're such an idiot sometimes. Why do you have to be such a fucking idiot? It's not like you're asking much in this life, honestly. You're not aiming at any groundbreaking, universe shaking novelties. You're staying in your line, trying to be good and do good in your own little world. Not asking much, not taking without beforehand being offered. Is it really that much to ask to not be absolutely humiliated in front of one of your kids' parent, who happens to be a stupidly handsome man? (Yes, he is. You can admit that -to yourself. It's probably the reason why your brain stopped working properly, by the way.) You're cursed. I'm cursed, I'm cursed, I'm cur-

"Mish?" The quietest little call comes from the quietest little boy. Standing a secure meter away from you, his peculiar big black eyes staring with a silent demand in them, Jimmy waits patiently for your attention to be given to him. You offer it to him with great enthusiasm. Because between self-pitying your dumb ass and celebrating the first-ever-self-willingly-uttered word to you by this boy, the choice is not even to be pondered over.

"Yes, Jimmy?" He's holding in one hand your crayons he slowly tends your way, careful not to spill them all from his tiny fist. In the other one, there's a paper he's drawn on. Your eyes instinctively are driven to it, curious to see what he decided to draw when he felt comfortable enough to do it. He catches the line of your attention, evidently, and it takes him a second but then, finally, he decides you're allowed to see it. It's a too accurate copy of the ugly cat you made for him the other day. The colours are different, the traits a bit shakier yet, completely unbiasedly, you have to admit that he somehow made it look better. "That's a very pretty cat, Jimmy."

He looks at it, ruminates your words, trying to make sense of them, verify their accuracy. Suddenly he seems to decide that you're right and giving you another candid look, he returns to his table where he proceeds to carefully slip the drawing in his bag.

You realise your eyes are filled up with prickling tears while you sniff. You're not sure how much is due to this, how much the terrible, terrible encounter with his dad worked your emotions so intensely you're so sensitive now. In any case, it turns out for the better. It's this cute little cat that ends up making you and your day ahead feel better. You're so thankful for it.

Again, you know you're too involved but how are you supposed to do any different with them? Maybe it wasn't a punishment earlier. Maybe it was the storm before the ray of sunshine. It's probably the case. You're less aggravated, suddenly. Less vexed and probably more lenient on talking to this man again given, not the ray of sunshine, but actually rainbow that he may have helped cause to colour your day.

A/N: thanks for reading 💜

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #thekimlinenet #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #bts fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon scenario #namjoon fanfic #my writing

[octopus-defence-squad]

I figured I might as well post some drabble things I’ve written in discord bc I am fairly proud of them, so here is a bit I wrote about Jordan and Tubbo as pirates and also father and son.

it hangs awkwardly at first, his dad has always been a strong guy, but years of hard work made it fit better. after a while tubbo has to take out and resew a few of the stitches, carefully ignoring what that fact means, ignoring how he must now be taller than the man that raised him. the coat may be old, but he has taken good care of it, washing it when it gets dirty but not too frequently, going to seamstresses when he is ashore and learning how to fix up the embroidery when it starts to dull, how to match the color of the coat after a chunk is ripped out during a wild storm, how to protect the material and keep it in as good a condition as it has ever been. sea life is quite boring, in all honesty, with hours and days and weeks of nothing but open ocean in between whatever exciting fights do occur. maintaining the coat is a good distraction.

it has been years and the coat still looks as good as the day he was given it, and now tubbo has a ship of his own, with a loyal crew. it seemed a simple voyage, their normal route and cutting through a special shortcut that tubbo had learned from his dad to shave a bit of travel time off and avoid a particularly dangerous stretch of sea, but tubbo kept an ear to the ground and had heard of an apparently new ship that had even the most skilled captains cautious in the area. he wasn't particularly afraid - his shortcut would route them around the area this new crew was said to frequent, and even if it came to fighting his men and women were all very skilled - and so he continued on as usual.

nothing had happened outside of the ordinary for most of the voyage, and they were almost halfway through the shortcut when one of the boys cried out from the crow's nest. squinting, tubbo saw a black shape up ahead that was fast approaching with the distinctive turquoise and red flag he had heard mentioned from terrified sailors. cursing quietly to himself, he ordered his crew to prepare for combat. the distance between the ships had been rapidly decreasing, all the cannon shots missing either hull, and the decks of each ship were filled with swearing sailors, ready for battle. tubbo shouted out to tommy, his first mate who would lead the attack while tubbo stayed to defend, and the world seemed to hold its breath for a moment before total chaos engulfed both ships. 

from his position at the wheel, tubbo could watch the battle below. the fighting was wild and frenzied, but there was one man from the other ship who was cutting through everyone who stood in his way. tubbo quickly realized that the other man's target was likely himself, and he drew his own sword. the ships were grappled together with chains, there was no real need to steer anymore and it was time to fight. 

 tubbo had come a long way from the meek child he had been when he started going to sea. his attacks were skillful and fluid, his balance impeccable even on the rapidly shifting deck, but the other man matched his every move. strange red glasses covered his opponent's eyes, but tubbo assumed they had the same glare he knew were in his own. the battle around them died down, the other combatants either injured or exhausted and unable to assist either man. by this point they were moving so fast that any attempt to help one was equally as likely to hurt him. it seemed like they were evenly matched until the other slipped on a small pool of salt water, tubbo attacking twice as quickly pressing his advantage. it was over in what seemed a deceptively short amount of time, tubbo's sword at the other's neck. with a casually smooth motion, the tip of the sword drifted up, stopping again at the glasses the other man wore. "these are interesting" tubbo said, in what he realized was his first sentence to his opponent. there was no response, just the same stubborn expression the man had worn all throughout the fight. carefully, tubbo used his sword to lift the glasses off of the other's face, almost dropping it when he saw the familiar brown eyes he remembered so well, verging on purple in a shade that looked unnatural and tubbo had never seen elsewhere. gasping, he sunk to his knees beside the man, whose expression finally changed to one of confusion. "dad?" tubbo whispered, his voice barely audible. his hands reached up without a conscious thought, untying the bandana he had pulled up over his nose. the captain blinked, as recognition finally lit up his eyes. "tubbo?" he choked out, reaching up to cradle his son's face. "I didn't realize I'd find you here, but I suppose I should have known you would become a captain of your own." his eyes fell to the red coat, tracing the embroidery he knew by heart. "you've grown into it well." 

neither crew saw exactly what happened after the two captains stopped their duel, but the next thing anyone knew for sure was that they were clinging to each other and crying, even as each signaled for his fighters to stand down. nobody outside of those two ships knows what happened that day, but the oceans gained a fearsome partnership that would raise hell for anyone who tried to bring them down, and a family was reunited. 

#tubbo #captain sparklez #pirate au I guess? #writing #here I swear I can write stuff

[raendown]

Another follower milestone gift fic, this one for someone who asked to be identified as anon. ^_^ The prompt word for this is woolage!

Pairing: KakashiSakura Word count: 2273 Rated: T+ Summary: Sakura could really use a taste of her own medicine. No, really, she needed some healing before this concussion made her do something that stopped Kakashi's heart entirely.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

A Rock and a Hard Place

Swaying gently on the rock that served as her stool, Sakura blinked up at him owlishly as though her dazed expression could in any way be half as terrifying as the full force of her usual ire. When he failed to look properly cowed she narrowed her eyes but doing so only seemed to rob her of what little balance was left. Kakashi didn’t bother trying not to laugh when she careened sideways off her perch. 

“Not supposed to laugh at me,” she grumbled. “So rude.” 

“Maa, and you weren’t supposed to leap straight in to the radius of my paper bomb. I think that makes us about even.”

Sakura gave an indelicate snort only to break out in a coughing fit when it sent up a small cloud of dust around her face, mashed in to the dirt as she was now. For a good handful of seconds Kakashi seriously considered being a good person and helping her sit upright. Then he discarded the idea. Watching her deal with the early effects of a concussion while her depleted chakra recovered enough for a bit of healing was so much more entertaining. It wasn’t like she had any other injuries from getting tossed back in to a tree, just a routine bump on the noggin, nothing that any shinobi who’d been on the field for longer than two missions hadn’t suffered through before. 

“It tastes really bad down here,” Sakura told him. 

“Probably because you’re practically eating dirt,” he pointed out helpfully. 

“Oh. Yeah. Hey what happened to my rock?” 

“You must have misplaced it.” Kakashi flopped down on to the rock himself and leaned over his mission partner with one eye turned up in a friendly smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you look for it.” 

The gratitude in her eyes when she thanked him for being so nice set him to laughing again. Amazingly, Sakura didn’t even seem to mind. Infamous for her temper as she was, it was a rare opportunity indeed that she let someone laugh at her misfortune without answering their mockery with a swift punch. Kakashi was pretty sure if she tried to throw a punch right now she would be just as likely to find her own face with it.

Shading his eye with a hand, Kakashi made a show of scouring the landscape around them in search of the rock he was currently sitting on. When his search yielded no results he relayed as much to his companion and chuckled as Sakura rolled over to stretch out on her back. 

“It’s not fair,” she grumbled. “Rocks don’t just get up and walk away!” 

“Well, not most of them.”

“Oh! Maybe it was a doton!” 

“Maybe,” Kakashi agreed. 

Did it make him a bad person to wish he got to see her in this kind of state more often? It probably did. He would never wish more harm on her, of course, it was just that seeing her with absolutely no walls around her heart and all inhibitions gone was a very rare treat. Even on the rare occasion she joined her friends for a night of indulging she wasn’t quite this open. Where most people seemed to loosen up with alcohol, Sakura only seemed to make a trade of good balance for more energy without falling victim to the loss of self that led Naruto to confess his love for several different trees in the park near his apartment. 

Really it was good that there was no one else around for Kakashi to justify his actions to. He was fairly sure any of their mutual friends would call him all sorts of unflattering things for enjoying this. 

But really, he would challenge anyone in the world not to be amused at the way Sakura, so famous for her competence and independence, struggled valiantly with the simple task of getting her body upright again. When they made it back to the village he was going to enjoy taking every opportunity possible to laugh about this - where she couldn’t hear him, of course. Kakashi enjoyed a good joke as much as the next man but he also enjoyed keeping his spine inside his body where it belonged and Sakura was more than capable of removing that for him if she was angry enough. 

“Hey, hey, come here.” Waving one hand, Sakura beckoned him with her eyes set somewhere vaguely over his left shoulder. It seemed not only her good sense had been affected by the concussion but her good vision as well. Not an unusual symptom. Kakashi moved to crouch down in front of her as bidden. 

“You called, my lady?”

She laughed a little before nodding. “I think the ground is trying to keep me.”

“Well I certainly can’t blame it for that.”

“Huh?”

“I would try to keep you too if I had you.” 

The way her eyes widened made him chuckle but it was a nervous sound, hopeful that she wouldn’t remember any of this once she was able to heal herself. Sakura hummed thoughtfully. 

“Help me up,” she demanded. 

“Someone’s feeling bossy.” Despite his words he was already holding out one hand even as he spoke. 

It very quickly became clear that more than one hand would be needed to keep her steady as Kakashi hauled her up on to her feet, quite happy but just as ashamed to stand there holding all of her fingers entwined with his own while she swayed dangerously back and forth. He could see the trajectory of her fall when it finally came but watching her face plant against the buckles on his vest was so much funnier than doing anything to catch her. With the careful distance that had always existed between them before he expected her to push away immediately. Maybe to giggle a little considering her almost inebriated state. He certainly didn’t expect her to just stay there and wriggle about until she had freed her face to look up at him with a smile. 

He should have known right there that something was about to happen but even if he’d tried to brace he never would have been able to prepare himself for two hands suddenly winding themselves about his neck as Sakura pulled her face right up close to his own. Kakashi was abruptly extra grateful to his mask for covering any traces of what was surely a very deep blush on his cheeks. 

“I am the boss,” Sakura declared. 

“Maa, if you want to be,” was all he could think to say. His agreement seemed to please her, which she showed by pulling even closer until she was up on her tippy toes. 

“What I say goes!”

Kakashi swallowed, imagining all the things she could say and how eagerly he would do them. “Right. And what are your orders, Sakura-sama?”

The tinkling giggle she made at being addressed so formally was like the ringing of little silver bells. 

“I order you”-her fingers were already moving even as she spoke, giving no quarter and no time for protest-“to let me play with your hair! I’ve always wanted to know!”

“A-ah. Kn- oh my. Know what, exactly?” 

Breathing, he discovered, was incredibly difficult with such a pretty face so close to his own. Add to that the warmth of Sakura’s body seeping through his clothing plus the heavy weight of guilt knowing that she was not in her right mind and Kakashi found that he simply didn’t know what to do. Obviously the right thing to do would be to push her away but it was possible he was over-interpreting this. In this state Sakura might not even realize the implications of their position.

Her actions certainly supported that theory. Despite the intimacy she had pressed herself in to she seemed interested only in the spiky rough hair she’d gotten her hands on. Another tinkling giggle escaped and while it was indeed a very pretty giggle Kakashi absently noted that he preferred her usual brash laugh. It suited her so much more. 

“I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like! And if you might like it when I pull on it.” With a beguilingly empty smile Sakura tugged ever so gently on the small fistful she was holding, her eyes very carefully watching the spot just next to his own. 

“Why...would you want to pull my hair?” Kakashi asked. 

“Duh, to see if you like it.”

Frowning, he was almost distracted as he asked, “Why would I like it?”

“Oh I dunno. Some people like it when you pull their hair in bed, y’know? I like it.” Sakura’s face morphed in to a heated expression as if she hadn’t just floored him with a couple of boldly spoken sentences. “Do you wanna pull my hair, Kakashi?”

“I found your rock! Let’s get you back on the rock, okay!?” 

“Mou, but I wasn’t done!”

Kakashi ignored her protests, slipping away from the grip on his hair and trying not to be too obvious about the panic attack he was currently having. As he settled his mission partner back on to the rock she’d fallen off before he made the mistake of looking away for a crucial few seconds. It was all the time she needed. Before he could even get his eyes back on her Sakura was lunging forward to bury her fingers in his hair again, trapping him in place, leaving him utterly helpless to do anything but listen as she murmured excitedly to herself.

Obviously it wasn’t the first time he’d been this close to a woman. It wasn’t even the first time he’d been this close to Sakura herself. The problem was that it was the first time that didn’t involve fighting for their lives together or sparring or even medical attention. Kakashi knew he should find an excuse to move away before his poor depraved mind could start feeding him images from the last time he’d dreamt of something disturbingly close to this. And he really would have, honest, if not for the fact that even concussed Sakura had a very strong grip and Kakashi wasn’t the most vain man in the world but he didn’t really want to walk around with several chunks of his hair missing.

“It’s always so messy,” Sakura breathed. “How...how does it stand up on it’s own!?”

“Natural talent,” was all Kakashi managed to wheeze in return.

“Does it smell nice?” 

With an oddly gentle pull she dragged him in close enough to bury her face in the very top of his head, breathing deeply while Kakashi did his best not to take advantage of the angle he suddenly found himself in. He might appreciate her chest in the privacy of his own fantasies but he liked to think he had more tact than to do so now. Despite his many other flaws he wasn’t a total creep. Just a little bit of a creep. A little wasn’t too bad.

“Maa…” he managed to choke out eventually after the silence began to stretch on. “Does it?” 

“Smells like dirt. And sweat. And just a little bit of citrus. Why do you have lemons in your hair?”

“That would be my shampoo,” Kakashi told her in a strained voice. 

“No, I’m pretty sure there’s lemons in here. Don’t worry, I’ll find them!” Sakura’s face lifted off the top of his head but there wasn’t much relief to be had when her fingers continued to poke and prod, shift and dig, all but massaging his scalp in a fuzzy-minded search for fruit that wasn’t there. Kakashi prayed for strength when she added in a mumble under her breath, “So much hair, so messy, gonna take a while to find those lemons…”

Feeling rather like his presence had somehow been forgotten, Kakashi very slowly shuffled around until he’d curled his body in to a position that wouldn’t start to ache before he was finally released. Who knew how long this wonderful torture would last? A part of him hoped that Sakura’s chakra levels would recover quickly so he could be free but another very shameful part was more than happy to remain exactly where he was and just let her do as she pleased. It was very possible he should have been thinking of some way to help that first part along. Instead he only settled both hands in his lap and closed his eyes when Sakura’s fingers dragged against the natural grain like she could somehow know how much he liked it. 

Maybe, he thought to himself with a hint of wry humor, he should finally man up and just ask her out. One dinner together wouldn’t hurt anyone, probably wouldn’t wouldn’t ruin their friendship if it didn’t go well. He would have to gather his courage - later. 

A quick peek up even at this angle told him that Sakura was still just as out of it as ever, no closer to returning her own good sense, which meant he would probably need to deal with this odd behavior for a while yet. When she did come back to herself Sakura was no doubt going to be mortified at her own actions and Kakashi very much wanted to be able to tell her with perfect honesty that he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation beyond getting in a few laughs. With any luck his honesty would earn her favor. 

Then with even greater luck he would take his shot and maybe, just maybe, he might have the honor of feeling those deceptively small fingers in his hair again for an entirely different reason. 

#rae writes #follower milestone #kakasaku #sakura #kakashi #fanfiction

[vynnyal]

Throwing random thoughts, headcanons, and a variety of pasta at the wall (but only those having to do with vessels and/or their biology this time): The Thrilling Third Installment™

...aka pretending i can be dark and dramatic jskhdfd

Thk's larger form is not the standard, but the exception. Thk was cited as being "raised and trained to prime form", which people take to mean pk assisted in the vessel's natural growth. However, that conclusion leaves a lot of unanswered questions, most important of which being “then what about Ghost?” In short, I think that train of thought is backwards. Vessels can't grow- they are ageless, and immortal. We know this due to Ghost, despite living as long if not longer than thk, being completely unchanged over the years. The only thing pk trained into "prime form" was thk’s mind and fighting prowess. Their body... well, I think it was mutated. Most likely either directly by pk, or ordered by him- and with the shenanigans happening over in the sanctum, I wouldn't be surprised if Soul was involved, too. In any case, it was in no means natural. Vessels are corpses reanimated by void; neither corpses nor void tend to make drastic changes on their own all that often. Whether pk predicted the vessel’s “issues” and intended to manually “upgrade” them from the beginning, it's hard to say. But... yeah. Unless Ghost goes out of their way to make themselves grow- if its even possible, now that pk is gone- its fairly safe to say, they never will.

...with that in mind, we are promptly gonna ignore that for the rest of this post lmaooo

Grown-up vessels wouldn't look like thk; while they are described as being raised into "prime form"... prime form, to whom? Rather than looking like an idealized pk soldier, it sounds much more fitting that they’d have an entirely different, natural adult form. Consider: their cloaks being longer and fuller, perhaps filling out into something with a more practical use to their “species”. Better yet, they could even grow up to be more beast-like. Feral vessels, YEhaW

The black egg temple is cited as being "built to sustain [vessels]", yet it can't be their lifespan that is sustained. Rather, it seems the egg is specifically designed to keep the radiance from tearing thk apart, physically and/or mentally. Ngl its p obvious, but worth noting.

Sorta-au where Ghost’s shade has 8 eyes, and/or is generally all-around more cryptid-looking.

@ the sharpshadow charm and the strange, 6-eyed creature their shade turns into: kudos to this post, they bring up something super interesting- the creature not only resembles the Shade Lord, but the lord outright becomes it during the Embrace the Void cutscene.

makes me respect the ol’ civilization a whole lot more if a single charm can turn a baby shade into a baby lord.

The concept of finding ghosts unconscious body, laying next to a corpse, while they battle in their dreams. Alt: when ghost enters the dream realm, their shade leaves their shell... And protects their body from harm.

If steel soul mode is taken as canon, just how did ghost and the shade meet? Alt: Ghost may never have “met” it at all, as it technically doesn’t exist in that mode- instead, its more of a metaphor than an actual entity.

What the vessels looked like- or were supposed to look like- before the void. Alt: a story following a child, alive and untouched, that somehow managed to be spared. They could even have a gender. Alt alt: the void intentionally spared them for some purpose, or even out of simple kindness- or at least, something that resembles kindness.

Re: the shade inexplicably having a nail: all the vessel's swords are crafted from “will-bearing rock”- of which i’ve come to lovingly call living stone- and as such, are of void themselves. That's how the shade seems to conjure up its own copy; it merely shapes it, from the ground, using void. And, while more of a stretch, Ghost’s nail being some sort of living stone/pale ore alloy could explain just how Ghost can do seemingly pretty crazy things with an otherwise ordinary nail. Better, while 100% a baseless hc, its material might actually enable Ghost to build it up and modify it to suite their size as they grow older. finally, a logical reason adult Ghost has an adult-sized nail-claymore. hdsfghjfghdsjf

On that same thought: Ghost outright invented the "art" of manipulating- or creating- living stone to make their nail. ...gimme a sec. The other escaped vessels have nails, too, right? Either meaning they also discovered this ability... or that theres some legitimate ground for the “vessel gang” hc. Or, yanno, i’m reading too much into Ari’s sprites but sHHhh

How did all the vessels know to race to the top? They seemed to be falling merely because they had just been born and had literal, actual baby strength; yet not only did they inexplicably risk everything competing to the top, they somehow knew death was waiting if they lost. Alt: pk just, bringing a fucking megaphone and telling them like a sports announcer.

What if Ghost made it, and instead of falling, they managed to joined thk at the lip? What would pk do? Push them off the edge??? Or just adopt them both?? Oh fuck au where they're raised as twin sacrifices. Or worse yet, they’re raised unequally, and one is trained only as an afterthought. As a backup.

Alternatively, pk keeps all the vessels au, only a few years later when they're grown. Pk now has a literal army of pure knights. Radiance is fucked.

Hm. If vessels were fully coherent entities from the moment of birth, why was there a crib in the white palace? Did... did they use it? I have a feeling team cherry made that asset before the abyss scene lmaooo alt: they did, uh, use the crib. Cue a very awkward scene of thk, clearly not a normal baby, staring at wl with like... idk, the poofy baby hat and pacifier. I can’t tell if the image is more funny or more sad rn shdfgfjsdgg

The og notes that inspired this post, in case my rambling makes more sense (and w/o the awful comic hjsfgjsdfhj): Oh oh OH i GET it now. The void is all about "will" and whatnot, right? And shades are "fragments of a lingering will"- will, like the one you leave after your death, but instead of inheritance its the vessels' desires...last regrets.... DAMN team cherry, that symbolism is clever as heck. That took me a while. Kinda funny how a will is, technically, a person's last regrets Like I knew they were last regrets but I didn't understand WHY. Duh, it's because they're literally Made Of Will. They are the vessel's "wills". I'm so stupid.

Ghost, walking thru the abyss, getting increasingly fed up / freaked out, ducking into a crack in the wall. They follow the crack into the Scream Chamber, pause, then exhale in relief that this was EXACTLY what they needed.

Ghost's shade rolling up its void-sleeves like “fuck it, ima defeat thk myself”

Why was thk's sword there? Was its pedestal decayed? Did it fall from their body? Was it place there as an afterthought, or hurriedly? alt: taking thk's sword before freeing them, but doing the mom thing like you're grounding them hdhfjchjch

I can’t believe it just occured to me now, but... as objectivley stupid as the vessel’s test was, Ghost... technically came in second place. What if that whole scene was a metaphor? Because really, it’s just too silly to take seriously. To do so isn’t too far fetched, either; many other elements in the game’s story are better taken as symbolic or metaphorical, anyways. Take the PoP cutscene- while it could’ve been a literal moment, where they just happened to find themselves standing around and took the moment to appreciate each other... imo it makes much more sense to read it as the concept of their faint ~forbidden love~ and parental pride itself. Or, better yet, the scene at the end of the 4th pantheon. Sorry, but I severely doubt that was an actual event. What I’m trying to get at is the significance of “second place” in the cutscene. My brain is too fried to chase down any other possible connections to this theme rn (if thats even what the theme is), but even without proof, the theory smooths out a few interesting tidbits related to just how Ghost could tough it out when all others failed. All except for #1, anyway. Either way I’m just happy to take this as an excuse to pretend that cutscene didn’t literally happen because like, l m a o

The story of a small group of vessels as they work together to escape hallownest. (aka the aforementioned vessel gang hc... im sure theres a more formal name but you get the idea). Its impossible to tell how long it took them to discover that near-invisible hole, the last exit remaining after the king ordered the abyss to be sealed up. Once they did, however, the remaining vessels were quick to make a desperate scramble to escape- only for the entrance to suddenly crumble shut, far, far too soon. The remaining 8 slowly made their way through deepnest, their numbers quickly dwindling as the jouney started to take its toll. The group was nearly wiped out by those terrible, spiney-legged creatures that used their own kinship against them. Only three finally escaped the deep, yet only two made it through the basin- the third, largest sibling, left to fight alone againt a hopeless battle, just to buy the others time. It was in greenpath, so close yet so far to their goal, that the second succumbed to the infection. It was a mercy killing, that nail through the heart. The last, after all of that, finally made their way to the very precipice of howling cliffs, hesitating for just a moment to gaze out upon the still-fresh ruins of hallownest. But only for a moment, before Ghost jumps down to begin their journey beyond this wretched place.

A vessel running from its shade as it tirelessly pursues them, the vessel refusing to put it to rest.

tw: suicide, + personal on main

Ugh ugh ugh ugh Either thk was fully conscious and in terrible pain for all those years... or they couldn’t feel anything at all. The former is horrible, but imagining thk waking up, chained, unable to do anything but wait for Ghost to heed their call? Did they turn their nail on themselves to help Ghost, end the pain, or some awful mix of both? For someone who has personally dealt with close friends and family that struggled with suicide themselves, hollowknight is one of the worst horror stories I've ever seen. And the fact that the story is so personal, so open to interpretation? The fact that each character is so genuine yet vague enough to be read completely differently to someone else’s biases? Its why hollow knight- the game, and the character- will forever be one of the most powerful stories to me.

in short, good LORD THIS GAME IS SO FUCKING SAD

#hollow knight #Thonking abt hollowknight #blabbing.txt #i should probably proof-read this.... uuuaaaah #anyways #@ that last one: i had to take a week-long break after tiso died. so like. you can imagine my reaction to thk #other than that some of these are VERY OLD #and dsfhhfdj the test one literally just occurred to me #sweet catharsis.... fuck you pk.... #also.... yeah. vessels have a p bad time all considered #ghost is like 'i know i look 7 but im actually 1000 years old!' #then hornet punts them into the sun #OH WHAUFHDFKJ

[dawnrider]

So this is a belated birthday dedication for the lovely @lemonlushff which I'll probably be posting later today. A Space Colonization AU that you mighht have spotted before during one of @clearwillow 's games.

Happy Birthday to you, Lemon!

Teaser:

Her initial reaction to him was fear.  In hindsight it shouldn't have been.  However, try pulling laundry down from the line and coming face to face with a man you've never seen before, and then realizing that there is something different enough about him to make you certain he shouldn't exist.  She guessed most people would have reacted far worse than she had.  In all fairness, his reaction to her wasn't exactly pleasant either.

“Oh, for crying out...” She tugged again on the comforter hanging on the clothesline which was refusing to come down.  It was too large for her bed and it was really too heavy for her to be hanging, but she had no other choice.  Tugging again, it finally came free, nearly suffocating her under all the fabric.  She struggled with it until it was at least folded enough to fit in the laundry basket and promptly dropped it.  Remaining stock still, not even wanting to blink, she stared at the tall man standing just across her yard.  He had long silver hair and what she swore were animal ears on the top of his head.  They twitched in her direction as if to confirm her thought.  He appeared equally startled to see her, as if he hadn't expected to find anyone this deep in the woods.

When he took a step in her direction, Kagome took several back, blindly reaching for anything to defend herself with.  She wasn't stupid, she knew the dangers of living in the wilderness on her own, she just hadn't had to utilize any of the preparations she'd made for such an occasion yet.  He seemed to know that she was afraid, not that it was hard to tell, and remained where he was.  She could tell that he was both curious about her and yet wary.  Finally latching onto the rifle leaning beside the tree at her right, she managed to lift it without her hands shaking, sighting down the barrel just as she'd been taught.  Unexpectedly, he snarled in her direction, disappearing in the blink of an eye.  Kagome felt her heart slowly calm from a racing flutter to a dull thud in her chest.  What...who on earth...Terra was that?  I've never seen anything like him!  Not wanting to risk another run in with the strange man or anyone else like him, she gathered up her laundry and bustled herself inside.

Making sure every door and window in the house was locked and pulling the shades herself, Kagome felt only slightly better.  She knew the house was resistant to being broken into by any traditional means, even fire-resistant to a certain point.  The house computer system already knew not to let anyone in that was not her, but she felt the need to remind it.  Just in case.  It replied with a soft “Understood Mistress.”  She hadn't been in the house long enough for it to have imprinted on her so she had yet to convince it to call her by her name.

Coming to this planet had been a dream come true.  Hundreds of thousands of miles of open wilderness, no people, no cities, no pollution.  Also very little technology and even less help if she needed it.  Stop it.  You don't need help.  You're a big girl.  Her pep talk didn't have the desired effect.  The strange man had seemed as disconcerted as she was to find someone out this far.  She had to remember that there were other people out there even if she hadn't seen any since the Ranger dropped her off with her things over a week ago.  Not only were there other people, there were other species.

As this was her first real foray off the planet Earth, Kagome was fairly limited in her experience with other species from within their galaxy.  Space travel of any kind had only become even mildly affordable in the last few decades and it meant that most humans had yet to venture very far from home.  Like Kagome, many of them made the journey a one-way trip to one of the few terraformed planets that had yet to be inhabited.  Land was cheap, housing even cheaper, with the travel there marking the largest total on the budget.

Despite the fact that the planet was in fact owned by several companies from Earth, they chose not to put much into defending it or the people that chose to immigrate there.  The Rangers, a combination of sheriff, magistrate and tour guide, were the only direct connection to anyone off-world.  Kagome had received a few messages from her mother and brother back on Earth and been able to send some in return, but they took days to transfer so it was somewhat like playing the worst game of telephone tag ever.  Kagome missed her family a lot, especially now that she was finally coming face-to-face with the danger she could be in out here on her own.  “This was my choice.  Freedom, space and fresh air,” she reminded herself aloud.

The rest of the day went by quietly, nothing setting off any alarms and no noises to make her nervous.  Kagome knew better than to assume that meant there wasn't anything out there at all, but it at least made her feel better that the man hadn't returned.  Dinner was a pot of stew using vegetables grown in her hydroponics unit.  They would be planted in the garden in a few days so she wanted to harvest as much as she could before putting them outside where they might die or get eaten by the local critters.

~~~~~

He didn't know why he was surprised by her reaction.  He knew better than to approach humans when they were alone.  Humans were relatively new out in the galaxy, inexperienced with meeting other races from the various inhabited worlds.  Her little house had been empty for the months since he'd arrived, so he hadn't expected to find anyone there.  Helen hadn't said a word about the owner coming, but maybe she hadn't known either.  Inuyasha shook his head as he lurked in the woods just beyond the edge of what seemed to be her property.  His most interesting and nonjudgmental conversation partner was a house computer.  Right now she was his only conversation partner.  But now this woman...  She was locked up tight in her house with all the blinds shut.  He couldn't really blame her, at least not now that he'd calmed down.  He couldn't be absolutely sure just off the initial scent, but he was guessing she was out here alone.  A lone human woman in the wilderness of a newly terraformed planet had every right to be jumpy.  She'd probably never seen an alien life form before.  Inuyasha snorted to himself.  Certainly nothing like me.  I've seen dozens of species and no one looks like me. She was probably terrified.  Of course, he hadn't smelled terror either.  Surprise, certainly.  Curiosity, confusion and determination.  She was going to protect herself.  He couldn't begrudge her that either, especially if she really was on her own.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement.  A woman who was brave enough to come from who knew where to a fairly new and wild planet all alone gained a few points in his book.  That she could and was willing to defend herself on top of that was another plus.  Too many times he had seen women, even ones that came with mates, that ventured out into the edges of the galaxy and perished because they didn't take the precautions they should have.  Inuyasha sighed, still watching the house.  It pained him to see the terrible things that happened to good people because some scumbag wanted an easier way to make some money or was so twisted they delighted in other people’s suffering.  That won't happen to her.  I won't let anyone get this one.  He flinched at the direction of his own thoughts, surprised by the easy dedication to her protection.

“Don't get roped in, stupid,” he muttered to himself.  He didn't want to see anything happen to her, sure, but he wasn't about to tie himself down to guard duty on a woman who would sooner draw a pulse rifle on him than speak to him.  With a rough growl, he headed back out into the wilds in search of dinner.  There were some animals he still wasn't sure were edible, but he knew the wild poultry he could hear rustling in the bushes a few meters away were good eating and easy prey.  Dispatching both of them fairly quickly, he cleaned them up before leaving one as a sort of peace offering on the woman's doorstep and taking the other home.  So much for not getting roped in...

@lemonlushff , @fantastiqueparfait , @heavenin--hell, @clearwillow , @mamabearcat , @thunderpo , @keichanz , @meggz0rz , @disgruntledbeast , @sarah-writes-stories , @zelink-inukag , @rikareena​ , @cammysansstuff​ , @mcornilliac , @redflamesofpassion , @superpixie42 , @underwater0phelia​, @cstorm86​ , @noviceotakus-blog​ , @lavendertwilight89​ , @hinezumi​ , @wenchster​, @hnnwnchstr​ , @lady-dark-69 , @itzatakahashi​ , @juliatheanimelover7​ , @kazeinori​, @theinuyashareader​, @inupotter​, @eternalnight8806-3​ , @smmahamazing​ , @willowandfog​, @gaysonthefloor​, @sistasecbhere​, @jennybean91​ 

#Dawnrider Fanfiction #Inuyasha Fanfiction #Space Colonization AU #No Defense #Lemon's Birthday!

[always5hineee]

The Final Bell - Chapter 3: Baby Doll

Chapter warnings: none  

Word count: 1840

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

       Y/N stared out the window, unsettled by what she saw. Everything was dry and windy, and the air was heavy. While she knew pollution must be down, everything had that solid tension about it. Taeyong and Taeil were making small talk, but she wasn't particularly listening. Every now and then, they'd pass an abandoned vehicle or a pile of trash, but aside from that she noticed no signs of life. While she was lost in thought, she was brought to attention by a voice.

       "...Y/N!" She sat up quickly, looking around. Taeyong was staring at her intently.

       "Sorry, I was... thinking."

       "It's fine- I was just trying to let you know that we're here." He said, pointing towards the windshield. Sure enough, there was a small campsite in front of them as they slowed to a stop. There were two tents, a few boxes, a small grill, and a black Toyota Tundra. She was nervous to meet this character, but didn't want to show it in front of her two associates. Stepping out of the van, they walked into the center of the space.

       "Hold on." Taeil said to her, moving to the tent on the right. Stomping in the dirt next to the structure, he said, "Johnny! We're here." After a bit of rustling, the front unzipped, and a man stepped out.

       He was certainly taller than anyone she had met so far- six feet if she had to guess. He had defined features and faded red hair, although- like Taeil- it was evidently not his real hair color. He was definitely thin, but stronger than Taeyong and Taeil. He wore a pair of old jeans, a green shirt, and a leather vest, with combat boots to match. Out of all of this, though, one thing in particular caught her off guard.

       His left arm- or rather, where his left arm should have been- there was a purple, twitching appendage, sewed on with black surgical stitches. While it's nails were clean and the flesh seemed to be staying on fairly well, it was unmistakable: a zombie arm.

       She involuntarily stepped back, but before she could move away, he grabbed her wrists, holding her arms above her head and turning her in various directions.

       "Hmm, interesting." He eyed her up and down, mentally measuring her. "I'm sure I can find something that fits you." Uncomfortable, she jerked her arms, ripping them away from his grip. He looked surprised for a moment, before his face settled into a questioning grin.

       "What's the matter? Can't you talk?" She tried to say something in return, but only managed to open her mouth slightly. Staring at her for another moment, his expression shifted to understanding.

       "Ah, I see. You think I'm turning." He waved his purple arm. "I assure you, sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about." Pointing to the stitching with his good hand, he said, "This isn't my real arm. I made her myself. The wound is closed underneath, so quit your shaking." Well if that wasn't the riskiest thing she'd ever seen, she didn't know what was.

       "What happened to your real arm?" She managed to mutter. He laughed, reaching up to touch her face with his left hand. The skin was disgustingly cold, leaving a tingling feeling wherever it touched. She knew it was probably in her head, but she already felt infected as he felt her face.

       "I cut it off." He whispered playfully. Backing up and spinning on his heel, he pretended as if he had not just been incredibly creepy. "Keeps you on your toes, you know? Reminds you how fleeting this all is. It does have a mind of its own, though." He admitted, evidenced by its twitching. She was more than uncomfortable at this point, staring at the seam between his human and undead bodies. So he had... cut off his own arm, and sewed on this zombie one, for fun? Or as he called it, a 'reminder'. This dude was unhinged.

       "Quit messing around, Johnny." Taeyong said, stepping in and pulling her back. Thankfully, his hands were warm, and undoubtedly human. "We just need new clothes for her, all our stuff at camp doesn't fit well."

       "Yes, yes, I know. Like I said, I'm sure I have a few things her size. So demanding. You won't be leader for long if you act like that."

       "I'm not the leader." Taeyong muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and shifting his glare."

       "Sure. Anyway, I'll return momentarily. Feel free to look around." He offered, turning to Y/N. "You can go wherever, but just be prepared for what you find." With a wink that sent a shiver up her spine, he moved towards the back of the setup to open a box.

       "Don't mind him." Taeil said, sensing her discomfort. "He's just strange like that. Plus, he's probably upset that we didn't bring Mark." She had practically forgotten about Mark at this point- she hadn't seen him since they exited the van the first time. Assumedly, he had gone to his own tent.

       "Why would he care?" She asked. "Are they related, or friends, or something?" Taeil shook his head.

       "Not exactly. Mark's just his favorite for some reason. He's never explained it to us. Still, Taeyong doesn't like them to be together for too long. I think he's worried that Johnny will make too much of an impression." That made sense. Mark seemed like a nice dude, and she couldn't imagine what Johnny could do if he got a complete hold on him. Before Taeyong could cut in to explain further, Johnny returned.

       "Here, I found four complete outfits of your size. It's not exactly ideal, but it's all that'll fit. I guess you guys will just start doing laundry more often, or suffer with ill-fitting attire. There are also two pairs of shoes, some makeup if you're into that, and some sanitary stuff." Holding out a bag, she reluctantly took it. As much as she hated it, it was all stuff she needed. "I also threw a few sets of earrings in there. Wouldn't want your piercings to close up."

       She breathed in sharply. In the few seconds that he had looked at her, he not only assessed her exact sizes, but the fact that she had piercings as well? Not only that, but she didn't actually have jewelry in at the moment, meaning that he had noticed the tiny holes. He was unnervingly observant, to say the least.

       "Do you need any earrings, boys? You've both had those studs in for quite a while."

       "We're fine." Taeil said shortly. Johnny sighed, almost like an annoyed child.

       "Shame. You two are so boring. Still, that reminds me-" He addressed Y/N directly again. "I can do pretty much any tattoo or piercing you might want, just let me know." Scrunching her gaze, she questioned,

       "Can you do a clean tattoo without proper equipment?" Johnny feigned offense.

       "My, do you have no faith? I happen to have done plenty of tattoos post-disaster. In fact, I've done more than a few for your friends over there. Speaking of which-" he walked over to drape his arms across the boys' shoulders. "Is she planning on matching you all?"

       "Matching?" She asked. Clearly without asking them first, Johnny grabbed both their shirts. Pulling up Taeyong's sleeve and the bottom hem of Taeil's shirt, he revealed very similar tattoos. Each was in a delicate script, a list of some kind. Looking closer, she read them.

Taeyong

Jaehyun

Yuta

WinWin

Haechan

Mark

Doyoung

Taeil

Jungwoo

Johnny

       The final two names were slightly brighter, alluding to the fact that they had been added later. The line through WinWin's name was also a bright shade.

       "Do all of you have these?" She asked, eliciting a nod from both of them.

       "We debated on the line, but decided that it would be appropriate. We'll be using it if, god forbid, anything happens to anyone else. Johnny added himself when we went to get Jungwoo added." Taeyong shot an annoyed look at him. "Still, he helps us out, so I have no right to complain."

       "So, will you be adding this lovely lady to your ranks?" Johnny asked, dropping their clothing from his fists.

       "I'd have to talk to everyone, but maybe if she sticks around." He glanced over. "Have you gotten a tattoo since all this started?" He asked. She shook her head. She was already dreading the idea of having Johnny's dead hand anywhere near her, not to mention a discomfort around needles. She would definitely have to think about it.

       "Well, I'm always ready to ink someone up." He concluded, gesturing to Taeil again. "I've done more than a few of his little art pieces." She had to admit, the tattoos covering his body were very skillful. Everything fell silent for a moment, but she was brought to attention by the clap of a hand.

       "So! To discuss my payment." Johnny smiled, causing her stomach to drop.

       "Payment?" Of course. No one gives anyone anything for free. What kind of payment did a psycho like this take?

       "Yes, honey, payment. I have to survive out here! Generally one earns something through the exchange of goods-" He snaked a hand around her waist, causing her to shiver again. "And/or services."

       "You owe us, Johnny." Taeyong said matter-of-factly, gently brushing him off and dragging Y/N back to where he was standing. "We saved your ass when you were clean out of food and three seconds off from getting eaten alive." He put a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

       "Oh, so you're cashing in for the little lady? He must really like you." He said with a shrug. "That's a shame, baby doll, but you'll be back. I look forward to it- you're intriguing." Leading her away from Johnny's camp, Taeil and Taeyong brought her to the van, facing away from the man. Still, he called,

       "Nice meeting you, sweetheart!"

       "Her name is Y/N." Taeyong shot back. "Have some decency." And with that, they got in and began their drive back home. She watched out the back window as Johnny simply stood, staring as they drove into the distance. He stood stone still until Y/N could no longer make out his figure.

       "I'm sorry if that was strange." Taeyong murmured apologetically. "I know he's not... ideal. Still, he generally has anything we might need, and honestly I don't know if we'd have made it without him. I would have talked to him myself, but he needed your size." She shook her head, trying to seem unfazed.

       "It's fine."

       "You'll only have to go again if you need a tattoo or something, other than that you can stay behind if you'd like." She nodded. She didn't really feel like talking anymore, and both the boys respected that. They had maybe an hour left on their three hour prognosis, so things would be busy when they returned. She wondered if she could find some monotonous task to help with to take her mind off the afternoon's events.

Go to Chapter 4

#nct #nct127 #nctfanfiction #nct 127 fanfiction #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #jaehyun #johnny #yuta #taeyong #taeil #winwin #marklee #haechan #doyoung #jungwoo #kpop #kpopfanfiction #zombie au #zombie apocalypse #nct zombie au

[artlessictoan]

this time it’s an ao3 req, for inosaku running into each other after years apart when butch!sakura has grown into herself more! y’know my original plan was like a silly ‘childhood friend moves away but comes back Hot’ bit of fluff, but then Shower Thoughts hit me like a fucking sledgehammer and now there are more emotions than i'm fit to deal with tbqh. canon-verse, except sak left konoha sometime after the chunin exams and she also has wood release bc unlike kishi I’m not a coward

(requests open)

(ao3 mirror)

---

Shit, shit, shit!

Ino’s breathing was ragged as she launched herself off the wet, muddy ground and up into the trees. The chakra coating her feet kept her steady on slick bark, but her reserves were dwindling and her concentration was split between tracking her enemy and formulating a plan on the fly.

This was supposed to be a simple mission; she was going to murder Shikamaru when she got back to Konoha.

But thoughts of home could wait, right now she had an S-rank fugitive to lead as far away from her terrified genin team as her battered body would allow. They were safe enough for now – Yui was injured, but she at least remained conscious and she had Haru and Risa with her to care for her, Ino could only pray that they’d followed her orders to head for the nearest village and gotten there safely – but Ino herself was running out of air and energy, her broken arm jolting painfully in its crude sling with every jump she made.

The sound of snapping branches behind her was growing closer. She kept her gaze on the path ahead, but had to bite her lip tightly to keep her head clear.

She could recall most of the vital information from the man’s entry in Konoha’s Bingo Book; a former Kiri-nin, fled his country over twenty years ago, known to use lightning jutsu and experiment with chakra amplifying techniques, something of a lone wolf, suspected of multiple counts of kidnapping and human experimentation.

On any other day, she could easily take this guy, but they’d stumbled into an ambush and she’d had three young, unprepared students to protect. He got off a lucky shot and she had been forced to flee long enough to get her team out of harm’s way, before doubling back to lead him far, far away from them. No way was she letting some filthy low-life get a hold of her kids, nor did she intend to let him get away and hurt anyone else.

Now she just had to make a plan to beat him.

She didn’t get long to plan however, when a bolt of lightning streaked past her and severed the branch she had just been readying to land on before she could get there. Too late to change course, she could only brace herself for a rough landing.

Her broken arm screamed as she hit the ground, even her best attempts to shield it not doing anything to stop the tremor that spread through her entire body when she landed heavily on her back. No time to waste thinking about pain though; she sprang to her feet just in time to dodge his follow-up attack. He landed behind her and threw a jutsu-enhanced punch at the back of her head, she ducked, leg spinning out to cut his out from under him, he jumped, flipping over her to land at her back again, growling, she rolled forward and – with a chakra boost – launched herself forwards, darting between trees and trying to gain some distance.

Maybe she could create a few clones, send him on a chase while she hid and prepared one of her family’s techniques, she didn’t want to take the risk of mind-body switch in this scenario, but maybe mind distur-

She just barely dodged the fist of lighting aimed at her already-injured arm, her breathing ragged as she ducked away from his constant attacks, never giving her the chance to counter.

Her foot caught a root as she backed away and she could feel herself falling. Fuck.

A shrill, ear-splitting screech cut through the air, leaving Ino both jittery and dazed as she tried to work out what the hell he’d just done. But, when her eyes landed on him, he was already leaping away from her, dodging out of the way of the tree crashing down where he had just been standing, his own eyes wide as saucers as he wildly looked around.

Less than a second after he landed, another tree began to scream its descent.

Someone else is after him? She barely had time to act on that thought – instinctually searching out for chakra signatures nearby – when, in a flurry of leaves and petals, her opponent was ensnared in twisting branches of a sapling cherry tree.

Her stomach twisted violently. His vain struggling against the chakra-strengthened branches went completely ignored by her, as the third party finally stepped out of the forest.

Ino didn’t need to see her to know; the painfully familiar touch of her chakra was more than enough.

Pink hair – the same shade as the tiny flowers dotting the wooden prison – was cut close to her head, arms as thick as tree trunks and darkened by sunlight were left bare, as were the well-muscled legs clad only in plain, practical shorts. The years had been good to her, she looked stronger, and not just physically.

She didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to draw the woman’s attention, didn’t want to discover that she had been forgotten.

The word escaped her lips regardless.

“S-Sakura?”

Those eyes, older, a little tired perhaps, but still sparkling in the dappled light filtering through the leaves high above them. “Ino!”

Before she could formulate a single coherent thought, she was lifted in crushing arms and spun wildly around. Under different circumstances, she might’ve found pleasure in being held tightly in warm, sturdy arms, but as it was, she had a broken arm trapped between their bodies.

Her sharp hiss quickly stopped the exuberant greeting and she was carefully dropped.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just got so excited,” Sakura said, hands flapping vaguely near her injured arm as though it might drop off any second, “here, let me-”

Fighting every aching desire within her, Ino jerked away, glancing over her shoulder to check on the criminal still trapped within Sakura’s jutsu – and the bombshell that the girl, no, she was a woman now, had somehow learned Wood Release in the years they’d been apart was something she would just have to unpack later – examining his chakra to ensure he was truly unconscious and not just faking it, before turning her back to her oldest and dearest friend.

“Ino?”

She withheld a shudder, concealing the motion as she stepped forwards. “I can’t exactly stop and catch up; I’ve got to find my students.”

“Oh, I think I met them already,” Sakura said, jogging ahead to cut her off, “three kids, the tall girl had a wounded leg and the boy was wearing a hat? They’re the ones who told me their sensei still needed help.” 

Her good hand flew to Sakura’s shirt, gripping tightly. “Where are they, tell me you didn’t just leave them alone-”

The low chuckle simultaneously made her want to punch the woman and swoon.

She settled for glaring.

“Relax, they’re with Tsunade-shishou and she’s already healed their wounds-” the relief must’ve been obvious on her face, because Sakura’s lips quirked up slightly “-it was actually a bit of a struggle getting them to stay behind.”

Sakura once again reached for her arm, Ino shrugged her off and turned away. “I should still go see them, make sure they’re alright.”

“Hey, stop worrying for a second and let me help you.” Placing her hand on Ino’s uninjured shoulder, Sakura slowly pushed her to sit on the spongy moss covering the ground, then, with the gentlest touch Ino had ever known, she pulled her broken arm out of its sling and set to work.

Ino stared at the expression of pure concentration on her old friend, the hard lines of her profile softened by the light green glow emanating from her hands. She had been ignoring the pain fairly well until now, but the sudden relief that flooded through her nerves left her feeling a little light-headed, which was perhaps why she decided to open her mouth.

“Since when can you do that?” She winced at how bitter she sounded. Shit, she really had intended to stay calm and civil, but her idiot brain was ignoring every pleading wail of her fool heart to just accept the gift and dig her fingers through that short, messy hair and kiss the beautiful, wonderful jerk already.

If Sakura noticed her tone, she didn’t say so and her eyes flicked over to meet hers for only a second before returning to her arm. “Not long after I left, I guess.”

“And… that?” she asked, glowering at the man held limp in his prison.

“That... was a more recent development, took me ages to figure it out, but it’s pretty cool though, right?” If she hadn’t been busy with her healing, Ino had the awful suspicion that she would’ve flexed her arms, or waggled her eyebrows as well.

She snapped her arm away from Sakura’s grasp the second the healing was complete, absently twisting her joints to regain some feeling in them. “That’s one word for it,” she muttered, pushing herself to her feet and staring into the forest. If she really stretched her senses, she could pick up the three familiar chakra signatures of her students; she started walking towards them, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “I assume you can take our friend there to the necessary authorities.”

“What?” Once more her path was blocked, this time by a rapidly sprouting sapling. “Ino, we haven’t seen each other in so long, why are you so desperate to get away?”

“Because I’ve got a team to take care of. I don’t have the luxury of shirking my responsibilities.”

Clearly Sakura was done ignoring her not-so-subtle cattiness, judging by the hint of frustration to her voice as she said, “Are you mad at me for something?”

Ino stared at the flowers blooming in front of her nose and hated the little part of her that got excited at seeing tiny purple buds mixed in with the pink. She immediately shut her eyes against the sight and tried desperately to hold on to the ball of anger deep in her chest, threatening to dissolve into shadows and slip through her fingers any second.

She had imagined this day for so long now, played out so many different scenarios and responses – anger, joy, grief, love – but now that Sakura was here, real and close, the potential she’d fallen for as a girl, finally realised, bolder and more beautiful than she ever could have dreamed…

“It’s been over fourteen years Sakura! You can't just show up out of nowhere and act like nothing’s wrong!” Ino was on the verge of tears and even she couldn’t tell whether she was aiming to sound furious or distressed, but she pushed on, refusing to open her eyes, or turn back around, because she just knew that the second she looked Sakura in the face, all would be forgiven. “Where the hell have you been? Why did you leave?”

The long silence that followed her outburst was crushing.

Something silky and soft brushed against her cheek and, if she wasn’t intimately familiar with the texture of petals and leaves from her work, she might’ve leapt out of her skin. Instead she just let the flower wipe away the tear that had slipped free of her eye.

When Sakura finally spoke again, her voice came from just a few inches behind her, low and calming, “It wasn’t a decision I made lightly and I can’t pretend I don’t have some regrets leaving the way I did… but I don’t regret leaving.” Gentle calm, quickly turned to barely restrained excitement and Ino smiled at the enthusiasm in her old friend’s voice despite herself. “There’s so much out in the world, so much I’ve learned, ways I’ve grown, if I’d stayed, I never would’ve had the opportunity to learn healing from Tsunade-shishou, or develop my own kind of Wood Style! Konoha… it held me back, maybe not deliberately, but now that I’ve been outside it for so long, I can see just how much it needs to change.”

Opening her eyes and slowly turning around to face the woman, Ino had to accept that she had lost whatever battle she was fighting with herself.

Really, she’d lost the second Sakura showed up, eyes and soul blazing.

“I guess I can understand that,” she said, rubbing at the damp tracks across her cheeks, “but you didn’t even explain it, when you told me you were going away to train for a while, I thought you meant for a few weeks, but I kept waiting and you never came back and I didn’t even know what was happening, if you were even still safe.”

Sakura at least had the grace to look ashamed. “Yeah, that was pretty shit of me, I probably should’ve at least written to you more, but I just… you were more than a best friend to me, you were my idol, everything I wanted to be. And I needed to become someone you could love.”

She scoffed before she could stop herself, before shaking her head. “You idiot, I always loved you.”

A soft blush settled on her cheeks, but Sakura’s smile held not a spec of embarrassment, just a soft, subtle kind of melancholy. “I know, but…” She looked down at herself, hands fidgeting with the fabric of her shirt before she continued, in a voice that shook, just a little, at the edges, “But, before I could love you – as a person, not an idea – I had to learn how to love myself.”

Ino bit her lip and hesitantly reached out, laying her hand gently over Sakura’s. “So, do you? Love yourself I mean?”

She glanced down at the hand encasing her own, before slowly following the line of her arm back up to her face. Her gaze was tender, but assured. “Yeah,” she said with a short laugh, every trace of sadness lifting from her face in the wake of her bright smile.

It was crooked and a bit too wide, showing off teeth that had probably been knocked loose more than once, and it was the most beautiful Ino had ever seen her.

“Yeah, I really do.”

“And-” she didn’t care that her hand was trembling against Sakura’s as she stepped closer; close enough to count the freckles dusted across her nose and marvel at the myriad shades of green in her eyes “-do you love me?”

Sakura stepped forward herself, tilting her neck slightly to look her in the eye. “You even have to ask?”

Before she could think of an adequate response to that, she was tugged down and warm lips were pressed against hers in a feather-light kiss. Ino pressed closer, sliding her free hand behind Sakura’s neck to hold her in place as they giggled into each other’s skin. They stood like that for what felt like an eternity, kissing chaste but oh-so-sweet, occasionally stopping to just lean their foreheads together and share in their equally wobbly smiles.

Eventually though, they had to wake up from their fantasy come to life, when the long-forgotten prisoner began to stir and immediately started cursing them both.

“C’mon, lets get back to your team before Tsunade starts teaching them gambling tricks,” Sakura said, pulling away to tear the jail from the ground and sling it – trunk, roots, criminal and all – over her shoulder.

Ino was not at all ashamed to admit that she swooned.

“And… maybe I could come back with you? I’ve been away from home for way too long.” The question was a little uncertain, as though Sakura was still worried that she might be rejected.

The hand Ino offered was taken without question and they both began walking toward home.

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#ictoan writes #inosaku #sakuino #sakura haruno #ino yamanaka #naruto #my proofreading on this one was less than 0 jsyk #bc i've got work soon and just didn't want to make this wait for another day #maybe i'll fix errors tomorrow if i remember

[messagefromtheveins]

Just The Way You Are

A/N: Okay listen. I feel like I hyped this up way too much so please don't be disappointed

Words: 1.7k

Pairing: Cez/Reader

Not even for one second had you stopped to consider that maybe he was already at the hotel as you pulled your suitcase- that felt so much heavier since landing- along behind you. Relief washed over you as you finally reached the door with the right number, an exhausted sigh falling from your lips. You had booked the night-flight with every intention to rest during the almost ten hours you had to spent on that plane, but of course your plan hadn't worked out- you hadn't gotten one second of rest. The only thing that had kept you from wanting to pull your hair out in frustration was the fact that you would finally get to see Cez again.

Your relationship with him was still fairly new, only a few months had passed since you had officially become a couple. During that time his schedule had always allowed him to come home for a few days- until they had started the North American leg of the tour. And suddenly you hadn't seen him in almost a month, which was why you had mutually decided that it was time for you to fly out. It was your first time visiting him on tour and you couldn't be more excited to finally experience him as a tour manager.

You struggled to get the door open with your key card for several seconds before the little light finally went green, quickly pushing the handle down and stepping inside while clumsily pulling your suitcase along. You were so looking forward to just tearing your clothes off and falling into bed. The door fell shut behind you with a heavy thud before the sound of fabric rustling reached you.

Quickly looking up from where you had struggled with your suitcase, you found Cez crawling off the bed- dressed in a T-shirt and boxer briefs and making you wonder if you had woken him- and approaching you with the biggest smile you had ever seen. "Oh my-" you gasped and fell into his opened arms, all the exhaustion immediately vanishing as a rush of excitement filled your body. Stretching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to push even closer to him as he tightened his arms around you. You released a joyful squeal as he lifted you off the ground and twirled around in a circle before he placed you back down.

The familiar scent that lingered in his T-shirt made your whole body relax in his arms, all of the previous stress washing away with one deep breath. "Hi, darling," he murmured into your ear and placed a kiss on your jaw before he pulled back just enough to look at you. Silently studying his soft and still slightly sleepy features for a moment, you smiled widely before you leaned in for a kiss. His arms immediately tightened around you again as he returned the kiss, though it stayed slow and lazy. Both of you were way too exhausted to take it any further. "How was your flight?" he whispered once you pulled back again, his hands roaming your back and pushing under your sweater to feel your bare skin while you caressed the back of his neck.

The way you groaned and rolled your eyes made him chuckle. "I didn't get to sleep at all," you pouted and leaned against his chest as he tugged you closer. "I didn't think you'd be here already," you noticed and looked up to him, smiling in content as he cupped your face in his hands and lightly brushed his thumbs over the dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Your eyelids fluttered shut under his gentle touches, your hands moving to curl around his forearms instead. "Traffic was a lot better than we expected, so we arrived much earlier than planned," he explained and placed a kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary as you tilted your head up like you were chasing for the feeling. "I was actually just laying down to rest for a bit before you came," he told you, your eyes opening to meet his blue ones.

"That sounds just perfect right now," you whispered and returned the chaste kiss he placed on your lips before he stepped back. You were quick to kick your shoes off and got rid of your leggings before the two of you climbed back into bed. It didn't take long before exhaustion took over and you fell asleep in his arms, barely even hearing him whisper that he loved you.

–—–—–—–—–—–

The feeling of his fingers tracing over your spine and warm lips pressing tender kisses to your cheeks and forehead while he murmured your name slowly woke you, a groan falling from your lips as you curled further into his chest. "Why are you waking me?" you whined and pressed your forehead against his collar bones, trying to chase the dream you had and hoping that you could just fall asleep again.

"I'm sorry, darling," he murmured and combed a hand through your hair, "I really want to let you sleep, but you'll deal with insane jetlag if you sleep through the entire day."

"I'm fine with jetlag," you mumbled under your breath and detached yourself from him, instead turning over so your back was facing him, "jus' wanna sleep."

He chuckled softly and shifted closer to you, arms wrapping around you and pulling your back against his chest. Pointedly ignoring the way you grumbled in protest, he placed a couple of tender kisses over the side of your neck. "The crew organized a little dinner party later tonight," he told you.

You whined softly and shifted back against him as he stopped kissing your neck, making him grin widely before he peppered a few more kisses over your soft skin. "Are you going?" you asked quietly, smiling as one of his hands snuck down to caress along your bare thigh.

"I wanted to leave that up to you," he murmured against your neck.

Eyes opening, you blankly stared at the wall across from you. "Me?" you asked and turned your head around to look at him.

He pushed himself up and leaned over you, his gaze meeting yours. "Yeah, you," he grinned and placed a kiss on the tip of your nose, "they asked me to bring you along."

You suddenly felt wide awake. "Oh?"

He chuckled softly as you turned around to him, uncertainty clear in your eyes. "I didn't say anything yet," he tried to calm your nerves, feeling your hand come up to lightly rest on his chest while he caressed a hand along your side, "I wasn't sure if you want to or if you'd rather relax from the long flight, so I told them that I would text them as soon as I know how you're feeling about it."

Your gaze dropped to where your fingers lightly fiddled with the collar of his T-shirt. "What if they don't like me?" you whispered, letting your eyes fall closed as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "You always say how they're like a second family to you. What if I don't fit in?"

His arms tightened around you and tugged you closer, letting you push your head into the crook of his neck. "Well," he started, his hand sneaking under your sweater to caress his fingers along your spine with the perfect kind of pressure, "you're just as insane as everyone else. So you should be fine."

His soft chuckle died down as you pulled back and looked at him with genuinely insecure eyes. "Cez, I'm serious," you said, his eyes widening a bit.

"Darling," he sighed and shook his head, "you really have nothing to worry about. They'll love you, just the way you are. They probably feel like they already know you considering how much I've told them about you."

He had hoped to get a smile out of you, but instead you nervously nibbled around on your bottom lip. "Do they know about our age difference?" you asked quietly, seeing how his eyebrows furrowed before he released a deep breath.

Turning to lay on his back, he pulled you along with him so you were stretched out right on top of him, your cheek coming to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was such a faint sound against your ear and yet it managed to calm you down. "Yes," he answered and combed his fingers through your hair. "That was literally the first thing that came up after I told them that I met someone all those months ago," he told you and gave you a loving smile as you lifted your head to look at him, "and they don't care. They know that you make me happy and that's all they care about." Resting your chin on his chest, you slowly let a finger trace along his collarbone and smiled softly as you felt his hand sneak down to rest on your butt. "But we don't have to go," he reminded you, his fingers lightly caressing along the edge of your panties, "I just thought it might be easier to get to know everyone like that instead of at the venue tomorrow when we're all busy working."

"I know," you sighed and moved to sit up, straddling his waist and not failing to notice how his gaze briefly trailed down your body, "I don't know why I'm so nervous about meeting them. They all sound like lovely people from what you've told me."

"They are," he agreed, grinning as you bit your lip before you took a deep breath. He knew exactly what you were about to say.

"Okay. Tell them we'll be there."

Sitting up, he adjusted you on his lap and gave you a soft smile. "That's my girl," he murmured, his voice deeper than before while his hands returned to their previous position on your body- one under your sweater, the other on your bum.

You cupped his face in your hands and brushed your fingers over his scruff, your gaze briefly dropping to his lips before you looked into his eyes again. The shade of blue had quickly become one of your favorite colors. "Promise you won't leave me alone at dinner?"

"I'll always be right there beside you," he whispered as you leaned in closer. "Promise," he added right before your lips touched his.

S.Mendes+Team Taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @alone-in-madness @waitonmedarling @shawnase @rechema @mendesromano @stradivariusbitch @desire-to-live @alinashawn @lifeoftheparty74 @particularstrings @liliane106 @herbeautifuldarkness @havethetimeeofyourlifee @pastelshawns @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @aargyy @adelaidebaby @mchutchmendes @as-she-pleases

(feel free to message me if you want to be removed) 

#cez darke #cez darke writing #cez darke fanfiction #writing #cez darke fic

[beneaththetangles]

BtT Light Novel Club, Chapter 16: Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki, Vol. 1!

Welcome to the first Light Novel Club discussion of 2020! Our discussion this month is on Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki, Vol. 1, in which a gamer dares to take on the “game” of real life. We have quite the discussion for this title coming up, so strap yourself in and join @jeskaiangel and I for a deep dive not just into the story, but also what even is a “game” in the first place!

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1. What are your general impressions of the novel?

Jeskai Angel: My impression of the novel = Video games + Proverbs / Ecclesiastes + My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong as I Expected + Self-help booklet + Optimism.

stardf29: I’ve got nothing to add; you did the math on that perfectly.

2. What are your thoughts on the characters in the novel?

Jeskai Angel: As I observed Tomozaki, I strongly had the sense that I was watching an alternative version of Hachiman Hikigaya from a parallel universe. His opening monologue sounds every bit as cynical, jaded, and bitter as something Hiki would say. But, crucially, Hiki is actively resistant to changing and finds a sense of moral superiority in not “conforming.” Hiki’s story kicks off because his teacher tries to help him change for better, but (at least as of vol. 1) he begrudges this meddling in his life and resists every step of the way. The two parallel universes diverge because when NO NAME / Aoi also offers Tomozaki the chance to change, he willingly (albeit skeptically) embraces the opportunity. That difference lends the whole story a far more hopeful, optimistic tone than My Youth Romantic Comedy.

I could spend more time contrasting the other characters of this LN and My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong as I Expected, but I’ll spare you. Suffice it to say that I think the girls of both stories bear further comparison.

Aoi is an interesting twist on the “perfect girl” trope. First, one doesn’t commonly see that sort of character AND have them be an unapologetic hardcore gamer (you sometimes see the “perfect girl who’s secretly an otaku” figure, but not one like Aoi who displays no sense of shame about her nerdy hobby). The other thing that subverts the “perfect girl” trope is that we learn quickly that Aoi wasn’t always “perfect” and in fact works incredibly hard to maintain her sterling image. She’s not just magically perfect thanks to inherent natural awesomeness. I feel like the rest of the cast is well written, but they don’t necessarily stand out in any exceptional way. Hopefully they’ll get more chances to shine in the future.

stardf29: That’s a good compare and contrast between Tomozaki and Hachiman. Hachiman’s constant cynicism and the commentary that comes from that is entertaining in its own way, but as a character, I really like how Tomozaki actually tries to make more of real life, and he gets some cool moments out of it, such as when he stands up for Nakamura when other girls start trash-talking him. Oh, and he’s a gamer, too, which I guess earns him some extra cool points for me.

I definitely appreciate Aoi having had to work hard to become the “perfect girl”, for the reason you mentioned. What I also like about that aspect is that it has shades of the “secret of the popular girl” trope where the guy finds out the popular girl’s secret and they grow closer because of it, which I often enjoy.

The other side characters definitely interested me a lot. While they might not have a lot of development yet at just one volume in, they do have very strong base characterizations with their own motivations and don’t feel like one-dimensional tropes; I’m definitely looking forward to what role they play in future volumes.

3. What do you think about the various gaming references and the use of video games in the story?

Jeskai Angel: Am I right in thinking that Atafami is a coded reference to the Super Smash Bros. series? Between the name and some of the characters mentioned, I had a distinct suspicion that the story was making a nod toward a very specific real-life game/series. The rest of the gaming references that I recall were all more general nods to various tropes and common features of video games, things common enough that they didn’t require knowledge of any particular game to understand. I enjoyed the references and use of gaming concepts as metaphors for real life.

stardf29: Yes, Atafami is pretty clearly a mock-up of Smash Bros. (“Smash Brothers -> Attack Families”), with their own versions of Fox (“Foxy”) and Sheik (“Found”; this one took a while to figure out, but it’s pretty clever; “Sheik” sounds like “Seek”, especially with Japanese pronunciation, so you have “Seek” -> “Found”).

The whole thing is pretty amusing since I have some vague familiarity with the competitive Smash scene (though I’m not a competitive Smash player myself), so a lot of the portrayals of the whole gaming aspect of the story are just that much more interesting to me.

4. What do you think about the various “life tips” in the story?

Jeskai Angel: Ooh, yes! I have mixed feelings about the life tips. On the one hand, I think there’s some real truth to Aoi’s advice. I sort of wish someone had given me some of this advice back when I was in high school (of course, I was such a trainwreck at that point in my life that Aoi’s coaching wouldn’t have been nearly enough to help me).

On the other hand, sometimes Aoi’s view feels a little too much like self-made man-pull yourself up by your own bootstraps-rugged individualism. It paints this overly positive picture of how if you just work hard, your life will be great and everything will work out well. That’s how I used to think life worked (thanks, American culture), but then life proved me wrong. I think Tomozaki has a legitimate point when he says that life doesn’t always have a right answer, that trying hard doesn’t guarantee the desired outcome, and that some people have massive, unearned advantages over others. No matter how long and how hard you try, there’s no promise that you’ll get what you want out of life. Maybe Aoi’s perspective doesn’t go quite that far, but it treads close at times.

This tension, where each of the two leads has some valid points, is where my reference to Proverbs and Ecclesiastes above fits in. The book of Proverbs paints an extremely optimistic view of life: if you live according to wisdom, things will be great. And to be clear, it’s not entirely wrong. But then Ecclesiastes comes along and says not so fast: no matter how wise / rich / strong / whatever you are, bad things may still befall you. If nothing else, we’re all gonna die no matter what we do. I suspect that Ecclesiastes sometimes presents an unduly cynical outlook on life, and that things aren’t necessarily quite as bad as you might think if you only read Ecclesiastes. But Ecclesiastes also has a valid point that life isn’t as easy as you might think if you only read Proverbs.

stardf29: You bring up something that one could make an entire dissertation on: the conflict between “do everything you can to improve things” and “there are some things in life we cannot control”. Ideally, these two ideas would work together: we take action where we can, while giving the things we cannot control up to God. Unfortunately, it’s all too easy to lean too much into one direction or the other. Tomozaki’s initial stance is too much into “there’s too much I cannot control”, and he includes stuff he does actually have control over to improve his life. Aoi, on the flip side, is perhaps trying to take control over too much. I think it’s pretty telling how, in the final confrontation, she’s ultimately not able to do anything when things take an unexpected turn until well after the fact.

Overall, while I liked a lot of Aoi’s tips, I do have one notable gripe. The whole thing about getting Tomozaki a girlfriend is a bit weird but ultimately, not too bad. However, when she tried to get him to ask Fuka out over their supposed shared interest in a particular author, despite Tomozaki lying about said interest, that definitely rubbed me the wrong way. It felt like Aoi was telling him to do whatever it takes to “win” the game, even if it means lying and deceiving others. I’m glad he ultimately chose not to listen to her and tell the truth to Fuka, and it seems like they still have the chance for some development later.

Jeskai Angel: I had forgotten about the whole “lie about liking this book to get a girlfriend” incident until you brought it up. Yeah, I really appreciated that Tomozaki averted tons of rom-com tropes by taking the first opportunity to correct the misunderstanding, instead of creating an extended series of painfully awkward situations where he struggles to maintain the lie. I wonder…Aoi generally comes across in a fairly favorable light, but does this case hint at a darker side to her character?

You also make a really interesting point in framing the climactic defense-of-Nakamura scene in terms of Aoi being unable to do anything when the situation gets out of hand. It does seem to speak to her limitations.

stardf29: “Darker side” perhaps, but to the extent that every realistic person has some sinful tendencies to her; in her case, it’s a willingness to fudge the truth in order to do what she wants to get done. (If I may say, she seems to be very much a Type 3 on the Enneagram.)

Tomozaki laughs at your “Foxy only” rule.

5. How much do you agree with the idea that “life is a game”?

Jeskai Angel: So, Tomozaki and Aoi both accept from the outset that life is a game. They don’t debate whether life is a game, but rather whether it’s a good one or a bad one. Consequently, the book skips over a crucial question: what exactly is a “game?” It’s hard to say for sure whether life is a game, or how good of a game it is, if we don’t know what we mean when we say “game.” Certainly I can see validity to a lot of the book’s metaphors. There really are times when there are substantive parallels between real life and video games. But does the fact that life and games are sometimes similar justify going all the way to the point of saying life actually is a game in any meaningful sense? I’m not so sure. My gut says no. However, I would offer the caveat that I can imagine it’s possible to come up with a coherent definition of “game” for which real life would qualify.

stardf29: Oh boy, the “what is a game” question is another one that you could make a whole research paper on.

Maybe a game like Smash Bros isn’t the best metaphor for life… but what about a game like Animal Crossing or Harvest Moon? Those are games that break somewhat from the usual definition of a game, while still being classified as a game, and it’s a bit easier to see parallels with real life with those games.

But the key question here really does seem to be: What exactly is a “game”? Again, I could dive really deep into this topic, but for a basic definition, I like to think of games in four parts: player input, the “programming” which take those inputs and create results, the goals that players try to achieve, and the rules which are known to the players and help them make choices on their inputs. A game, therefore, is a situation where, given certain known rules, you decide on a goal or goals to achieve, and then make inputs and see what results the programming gives back; based on those results, you may either continue on with making inputs, or change one or more of your goals; you can even create a “game within a game” by setting a smaller goal and trying to achieve that goal first before returning back to your original goal.

For example, in, say, Super Mario Bros., your overarching goal is to reach the end and rescue the princess, which requires you to complete several sub-goals of completing the individual levels. Within the game, you are aware of the various rules of the game (move right, don’t touch enemies or fall into pits, collect power-ups for help) and then you start making your inputs to get Mario to the end.

Given this fairly wide-encompassing definition of a “game”, I think it’s possible to classify real life as a game. You have rules that are known and more or less govern what you can and cannot do (things like laws), and from there you decide on goals you want to accomplish, and then you make your “inputs” (a.k.a. personal choices) and then see what results come from the “programming” and adjust further goals/inputs accordingly. The only real difference here is that the “programming” is far more complex than what computers are (currently) limited to. That said, it’s not like there’s no “programming” whatsoever, since things like scientific laws exist. (The inputs of fellow humans may complicate things but lots of multiplayer games have that, so…)

In that sense, I can see how Aoi approaches the “game” of life. She tries to understand the rules as much as she cans, she has certain goals she wants to achieve, and she starts making “inputs” towards those goals. And as she starts accomplishing those goals, she gets the enjoyment of “winning” at the game (or at least that goal). If my approach to life differs from hers, it largely lies in having different goals from her to start with.

Now that I think about it, there is an important “fifth” part of a game: the positive feelings that come from “winning” the game, or rather, accomplishing goals within that game. It’s why we play games, after all. The exact nature of those “positive feelings” can vary depending on your goals, from the feeling of empowerment and domination after defeating a human opponent, to the sense of pride and accomplishment from getting 100% completion, to the satisfaction of the ending of a good story. And in real life, there’s definitely a good feeling from putting in effort, getting results, and fulfilling goals.

Jeskai Angel: I remembered this interesting column by game designer Mark Rosewater (https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/making-magic/what-game-2018-06-04). He defines a game as “a thing with a goal (or goals), restrictions, agency, and a lack of real-world relevance.” Your definition and his agree about the importance of input / agency, rules / restrictions, and goals (whether invented by the player or established by the designer). But you differ regarding the lack of real-world relevance. MaRo holds that having the purpose of entertainment or education, as opposed to practical necessity, is a fundamental part of what distinguishes games from real life.

stardf29: That’s a great article overall, and if I combine “rules” and “mechanics” into “limitations” I would mostly agree with it… but I definitely disagree about games needing to be “separate” from real life. It feels like a meaningless distinction; if I want to make a game out of cleaning my apartment or something, I don’t see how the real-life application somehow makes it not a game.

Instead, I would replace that “lack of real-life relevancy” with that last element I mentioned: the explicit pursuit of the positive feelings that come from achieving the goals. The reason most people don’t, to use the example in the article, consider packing for a trip as a “game” is that they simply have no desire to experience the pleasure of figuring out how to optimize packing; they just want to get the job done. However, someone might decide that, yes, they’re going to figure out the optimal arrangement for their packing, and then, after getting everything into the optimal arrangement, relish in the rush of having solved the puzzle.

In a way, then, what makes something a “game” is, in part, mentally thinking of it as a game–that a game is whatever you want to be a game (as long as goals, restrictions, and agency are also in play). And this is likely what helped Aoi be so successful: she chose to view several parts of life as “games” where others just saw it as “just life”. And Tomozaki has now adapted that mindset too. Now, I do think there are times where it’s best not to think of real life as a “game”; the example of a pilot flying a real plane is probably one of those times. (Though if the threat of death makes something not a game, I guess the Aincrad part of Sword Art Online isn’t a game…) That said, there may very well be several times in real life when thinking of something as a game may be just what gives someone that motivational kick to get something done, so… perhaps, at the very least, it’s worth consideration.

Jeskai Angel: Hmm… It occurs to me that babies and children learn through play. It seems that God has hardwired us to learn about the world through play-type behavior. And if play is fundamental to us from the earliest stages of development, perhaps the idea of life as a whole being a game has more validity than I’m giving it credit for.

Final Thoughts

Jeskai Angel: In the opening monologue, Tomozaki says this:

“Since ancient times, tons of brilliant scientists have been conducting experiments to search for a Law of Everything that explains the rules of our world. They still haven’t found it. Since ancient times, tons of brilliant philosophers have been wrapping ideas up in logic trying to figure out the meaning of life—in other words, life’s concept.”

This is where I’d raise my hand and say that Christianity has an answer to this question. The “Law of Everything,” the basis of all the rules in our world, the source that connects everything else, is Jesus. That’s what John 1.1 is getting at when it describes Jesus as the Logos. All the rules are established and upheld by him. And of course life’s “concept” is to know and love God.

Jeskai Angel: On a couple of occasions, one character criticizes another (first Tomozaki to Nakamura, then Aoi to Tomozaki) for dismissing a pleasure they’d never experienced as boring or meaningless. This is really quite profound. It was super relatable when Aoi calls out Tomozaki on this, because I have done the same thing. I can easily come up with examples from my own life where, because I didn’t have opportunity to enjoy something, I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t really all that great anyway, that I didn’t really want or need it, and so it was fine if I didn’t have it. At least in some of these cases, I’ve realized later that maybe that thing was more valuable than I’d been willing to admit while I was coping by lying to myself. The story was a good reminder about the need to be honest with ourselves.

stardf29: Yep, that’s the good ol’ sour grapes fable (the fox who can’t reach the grapes decides they must be sour). And yes, it’s best to be honest with yourself, or at the very least, don’t put down others who do have things/experiences you don’t have.

Jeskai Angel: Looking back, I realized it’s kind of cool the way the story building up Aoi to be so amazing actually serves to increase my respect for Tomozaki as a gamer. Here’s this girl who, much like Mary Poppins, is practically perfect in every way. Whether in beauty or academics or athleticism or popularity or whatever, she is unsurpassed thanks to her combination of talent and incredible hard work. And then you tell me that in one respect, she gets totally outclassed by someone else, despite putting forth the same hard work at Atafami as she did to reach the pinnacle in every other area of life. And it really starts to sink in just how insanely skilled Tomozaki must be to be able to capable of trouncing her as he does.

stardf29: Honestly, having seen how insane top-tier Smash Bros. play is, I’m more impressed with Aoi being able to even basically become the second-best player in Japan in the first place, especially with everything else she’s doing for real life as well. They do go a bit into how she does it (she purposely gets into disadvantageous situations to learn how to get out of them, sacrificing her immediate win-rate for long-term improvement), but even then, getting to the top ranks is no easy feat and it shows how dedicated she really is. And, of course, Tomozaki himself is impressive for being able to beat her regardless, though I guess since I’m familiar with top-tier Smash players, it’s pretty easy to picture how good he is (or at least as easy as looking up some YouTube videos).

=====

What do you think about Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki, Vol. 1? What do you think counts as a “game”? Share your opinion in the comments!

As a reminder, on February 21st, we will be covering Vol. 3 of Infinite Dendrogram, so if you plan on joining us for that and haven’t finished it yet, get to reading!

#Light Novels #Bottom Tier Character Tomozaki #Jaku Chara Tomozaki kun #Christianity #BtT Light Novel Club #Articles #Author: stardf29 #Author: JeskaiAngel

[librationpoint]

Kinktober ‘19 - Glory Hole

Day 29 - Glory Hole 1589 words, Ray/Brad, Ray/Many, Ray/Surprise Guest In which Ray spend Superbowl Sunday on his knees. Definitely NSFW this time.

Ray wasn't really sure how Brad had organized this. The physical part was easy enough. A small section of the garage was partitioned off by a couple of plywood sheets held up by a few two-by-fours, easily thrown together in an hour. There was a padded adjustable bench, the sort for gardeners that could be used to kneel or sit on, and a surplus cot to lay down. Several gallon jugs of water, a couple empties to relieve himself in, assortment of snack bars, small little reading lamp, iPad and portable TV: everything you could possibly need to spend a long afternoon in your very own personal glory hole. That and a comfy t-shirt, exercise shorts, and jock; no need to dress to impress here.

The social part, though. How did someone even do it? You couldn't exactly send out an email to everyone at your command saying, "Hey, guys, anyone want to come to my Superbowl party? There will be chips, dip, and also anonymous blowjobs."

Brad had better be saving some of that dip.

It was probably better that Ray didn't know anyway. The chances that anyone at the other end would even know Ray existed was slim to none; Brad kept his personal life private and the number of people on purely on his side who knew Ray was anything but a friend could be counted on two hands and most of those were family.  Presumably none of them would be coming within a hundred miles of the house. 

Ray could hear vehicles pulling up the drive. He used his iPad to check on his lipstick; he thought it was a nice touch for the no-homo types and the shade looked great on him anyways. He was assured of this. He went back to playing Angry Birds as he waited for someone to work up the nerve and come out to enjoy himself. 

It took a while but finally the door from the garage to mudroom swung open, briefly spilling light through the room as a man walked in. Ray switched his lamp off, got on his knees, and peered through the hole. It was dim in the garage, with only a couple small LED night lights plugged in near the doors to keep people from tripping over a motorcycle part and smashing their heads open on the concrete. And privacy of course, couldn't forget that. There was too much shadow to see his face, but there was plenty Ray could still make out. Thirty-something, thick build but not overly chiseled, tank and cargo shorts, dubiously generic tribal tat on his right arm, cocky strut. Definitely some flavor of marine or soldier, probably had at least one ex-wife and a $50,000 truck with crippling loan interest. 

He knew what he was doing, though. He opened his fly, tugged his boxers under his balls, and after a couple strokes put his hardening cock through the hole. Average size, maybe on the plump size, dark, uncut but clean: definitely a nice started piece. Ray went down and started sucking without any foreplay or teasing, he seemed like the sort there to get his rocks off fast. That proved correct. After a few minutes he shot a nice, salty load into Ray's mouth, zipped up, and left. Ray made a tally mark on the whiteboard next to the hole and went back to waiting.

Maybe another ten minutes passed before the door opened again. This guy was tall, not Brad-height but maybe LT sized, shaped kind of like a stork, all long limbs and angles. Probably another marine, the haircut was depressingly similar to what Ray had worn while he was in, but the hesitance and general bookish look suggested some sort of POG, or fobbit, or whatever the fuck they were called these days. Maybe Brad was trying to put some hair on the guy's chest. 

He hesitated about a foot away. He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged him and his boxer-briefs down to about mid-thigh and just stood there, cock still soft amid a ginger bush. 

"So, uh... do I just put it in, or should I jerk it a little first, or?"

Ray wanted to say, "shut up, your stupid dickweasel, this is a complete violation of glory hole etiquette." Instead he kept his trap shut and stuck his index finger through to gesture for him to stick it in. The guy did, and while it took a minute to get him hard, Ray could forgive a newbie a lot of sins when he had a nice long one to suck on. He had some staying power, too, not just from nerves. If Ray were the sort to fuck random POGs he'd definitely be on the list. 

Things started to slowly pick up after that. Ray could practically predict when guys would start showing up by how things were going in the game; the moment a time-out was called someone was bound to come by and drop a load. He spent the whole of half-time on his knees servicing a non-stop line of cocks, to the point that his jaw felt like it might lock open by the time play started again. Mostly guys seemed to be observing the cumdump equivalent of urinal rules, staying outside the garage where they didn't have to see a guy get his dick sucked, but also clearly waiting right outside during the rush from the speed they came in as soon as another left. The exception were a trio of marines so clearly boots that it hurt, with identical buzz cuts and polo shirts, who came in together and got a little noisy as they watched each other shove their cocks into a hole with about as much enthusiasm and roughness as you'd expect from that sort. Ray didn't think he'd ever been so eager to please gunny that he'd have come over to give his kinky girl a nice throat fuck but then again at their age he'd still have been on the receiving end. 

The evening was basically an X-rated Dr. Suess story about cocks. Big cocks, small cocks, fat cocks, skinny cocks. White cocks, black cocks, hairy cocks, shaved cocks. Ray was in cock heaven. The one constant was it was all clean cocks; clearly they had been screened for familiarity with the concept of soap. That was more than could be said about the last time Ray had tried this for more than one or two guys in a row, back after he'd gotten back from Afghanistan. Right before he'd started his thing with Brad, actually, which he didn't think was a coincidence. Brad liked his mouth only metaphorically diseased. 

Near the end of the night, Ray caught a flash of sandy hair and a familiar gait. The man was hesitant, slowly making his way over, which gave Ray time to decide to give his mouth a rest. He pulled down his shorts and drizzled some lube on his fingers so he could quickly open himself up. His visitor put his cock through the hole and with a grunt Ray backed his ass right onto his. 

"Shit," the guy said from the other side. "You fucked-up horny hick."

Ray braced himself against the other wall as his fellow redneck did what any redneck did when finding his cock up a slick hole and started fucking him. The angle was awkward and the plywood barrier made it impossible for him to properly deep-dick Ray, but getting some backdoor action after working his throat raw felt great. He freed his own much-neglected cock from his jock and started jerking in time to the thrusts. He was already dripping from the hours of cock overexposure. It didn't take much for him to shoot all over the concrete floor, biting his arm to keep quiet. His mystery fucker came shortly after, leaving a thin trail of cum dripping down Ray's taint after pulling out. Ray turned and managed to fit his first through to give him a big thumbs up.

He got a, "You are so fucking weird," in reply. 

Things died down fairly quickly an hour or so after the game was over. Brad had firm ideas about people going home once a party hit the end point listed on the invites. Ray sent him a text to let him know he was thoroughly wrecked and to put a closed sign on the door. After a while there was no further noise from the house. Ray was about to curl up and take a nap when some Viking-looking motherfucker came in. Ray did his best to give the man's oversized donkey cock the love it deserved but frankly his lips were about to fall off and he ended up mostly jerking him off until he came all over Ray's face.

"Get out of there and help me clean up," Brad ordered. 

"You better have saved me dinner," Ray said, opening the makeshift door and wobbling to his feet. He followed Brad back through the mudroom and into the kitchen. "I'm fucking starving."

"You've been eating all day."

"They're not literal protein shakes, jesus." A soft snoring noise distracted Ray from his quest for something new to stuff his mouth with, and a peek over the back of their biggest couch revealed an adorable rosy-cheeked redneck marine curled drunkenly around a pillow. Ray gave Brad a 'what part of anonymous did you misunderstand' look.

"He didn't have a designated driver," Brad said with a shrug. 

"You big fucking softy."

#kinktober #generation kill

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 10

AO3 link here

Drea is the only one of his kids who Steve successfully gets into baseball. Rosie at age six tells him seriously that she has other, more important things to do than watch grownup men get excited about a ball, Em sits patiently through a couple of games that she clearly has no interest in, and Nate, when offered a chance to visit the ballpark for the first time at five years old says, "If you would be happy about it," in such a sweet, guileless way that Steve chokes up and tells him right away to forget about it. (Peggy is only too happy to have him look for someone else to bring - while she knows the rules by now and has watched a few games herself, he thinks that she'd have happily abdicated her seat to any passerby who wanted it. It's fine: she once tried to explain the rules of cricket, and he thinks he might still be comatose.)

But Drea loves it enough for all the rest of them, collecting cards, scanning the sports section each morning as the season approaches, and talking statistics like they're her second language. Nothing much has changed for her since they moved to Maryland: she has a group of boys to trade cards with, her best friends even as she enters junior high, and she's still a solid early choice in a schoolyard or street pickup game.

Steve's too cheap to shell out for Orioles season tickets - they live closer to DC, so getting to Baltimore is less convenient especially for weeknight games, but he's pretty sure that Washington loses their team sometime soon and he doesn't want his daughter getting attached and going through the same heartbreak he did - but he makes sure to take her to a few games a season, just the two of them.

It's a beautiful May Sunday, and the Orioles have just absolutely trounced Kansas City. Steve tosses their hot dog wrappers in the trash on the way out - four of his, one of Drea's - and wraps his arm around her, kissing the top of her baseball cap-covered head as they join the chattering crowd on the way back to their car.

"That was a great game," he says. "I think the O's have a good chance of making the series this year, huh?"

"I'm not very much like other girls, am I?"

It's more momentum than anything that keeps Steve walking. "What do you mean?" he asks carefully, looking down at her. The brim of her cap blocks him from seeing her face, but her shoulders hunch a little under his hand.

"I'm not like Mom," she says. "Or like Emma."

"Well that’s good, because I don't know if I could handle two Emmas. We'd never be able to finish all the desserts." Steve jokes. "And it would be a pretty big coincidence if you were like Mom." Everyone in town is used to the Carters by now, but when they had moved down from New Jersey five years ago, the variation in looks between the children and their lack of similarity to either parent had brought reactions ranging from pity to outright disdain.

"That's not what I mean." Drea starts to walk a little faster, even knowing that her dad can keep up. Her words come out in small, breathless bursts, and Steve aches a little at the bravery it is taking her just to keep speaking them. "It’s just...they know about girl stuff. Mom knows when to wear fancy gloves and pearls and it never looks weird, and Emmy just knows how to talk with other girls. They understand everything without even trying. They like this stuff. The only stuff I like is boy stuff."

"Hey," he says, pulling her to the side of the crowd so he can stop and bend to face her. He peers into the shadow beneath her ball cap, finding her jewel-dark blue eyes. "You're a girl. Anything you like is girl stuff."

She turns away from him. "Yeah, okay."

"I know that Em is a certain kind of girl—" Emma has already requested her own set of mixing bowls for Christmas. Practically the only time she wears pants is in the garden. She used to spend entire afternoons pouring “tea” for a dozen dolls and stuffed animals, signing politely to them as she sipped with an extended pinky. "But your mom put up with a lot during the war, and even now there are plenty of people who say that she isn't doing the things a woman should do. And what about Rosie? She doesn’t exactly fit into a box."

"It's different for me than it is for Rosie." That she says it simply, without a sigh or a teenage eyeroll, makes him sad. Even sadder than that: she's right. As much as he doesn't want it to be, it is different for her than it is for Rose, or Emma, or even Peggy.

"Okay," he says. "You're different than some girls. But that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong. And I would hate for you to change the way you are or the things you love just because you felt that you had to fit in.” He tries to smile. “Besides, Bucky and the family are coming to visit over the summer and I promised them a good time, which means a trip to the ballpark with the two of us."

This time she does sigh, a tiny hiccup of not being entirely understood or at least of realizing that her father can't fix everything for her. "Yeah," she says again. "Okay."

Steve stands to his full height once again and hugs her against his side for a moment. He and Peggy have changed a lot, but there are some things even more stubborn than they are.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night with Steve, but there’s been a new FBI head for three, nearly four years now, and Peggy is only just getting around to inviting him and his wife for a collegial dinner engagement. Steve very sweetly said that he doesn't mind any of the time that he gets to spend with her, but she knows that this isn't exactly his idea of an enjoyable evening out. She'll have to remember to make it up to him.

"Which one?" she asks Drea, holding three dress options in front of herself. There's a deep, vivid scarlet number, a classic flared black, and a black and aubergine paneled silk with the tags still on.

Drea considers. "The red. Daddy likes it when you wear red."

"So he does." She strips off her robe and leaves it on the back of the chair as she slides the dress over her head, moving to the mirror to do up the last of the zip and smooth it over her hips. Peggy keeps herself fairly trim, but it's been a while since she wore this particular dress, and one never knows how things might have changed.

In the glass, she glimpses Drea, her black hair tangled and wild around her shoulders as always, her knees tented as she tucks nearly her whole narrow body into the white T-shirt she's wearing: one of Steve's undershirts, no doubt. Drea practically lives in them as it gets warmer. If it were prior to Lula-Cat's escape of the previous summer, the beast would surely be purring on the bed beside her favorite Carter, allowing herself to be petted as she got fur all over Peggy's clean pillowcases.

She is almost fourteen, Peggy realizes with a pang, and not only because her children are growing up even more quickly than she had expected. They will have another year of people plausibly believing her to be a late bloomer, perhaps not even that. She, Steve, Drea and her doctor have an appointment soon for a discussion, and Peggy makes a note to sit down Howard with as well. The little tools he's made for Emma - the vibrating clip for her swimsuit for when they go to the beach, the egg timer with its flashing lights - have been helpful, but the things he could make for Drea might be lifesaving.

As she moves to the vanity and fixes her face, traces on her vividly red lipstick with a practiced hand, thinks for a moment and adds pearl earrings and a simple crystal necklace which Steve gave her for their fifteenth anniversary, she fights to keep both the fear and calculation from her face. Drea already looks melancholy enough.

Peggy sits at the edge of the bed to put on her hose and her pumps. She is just about to get up and take in the final product when Drea says from beside her, "Mom, can you teach me how to put on makeup?"

Peggy pauses for just a moment, then asks, "What brought this on?" She allows only a tiny amount of surprise into her voice. It would be unbelievable otherwise, but the true amount of shock she feels at the question would be insulting, would drive her daughter away.

"Some girls at school are starting to use it. And I—" Her voice falters a bit, then comes back stronger, perhaps too strong, as if she's given herself a stern lecture. "I think I should also know how."

"I think you're a bit young for it, and I'm not sure that 'because everyone else is doing it' is a particularly good reason," says Peggy, continuing over the beginning of Drea's protestations. "But if that's what you truly want, I can certainly give you a lesson or two." She sighs, perhaps a bit theatrically. "Goodness knows I'd have liked for Rosie to ask before she made her first attempts."

It works. Drea laughs a little, remembering Rose's early experiments with cheap drugstore eye makeup and vending machine lip color in a particularly revolting shade of tangerine that gave her a rash.

Peggy stands, smoothing her dress one final time and going over to the closet. She takes out a handbag, and riffles through Steve's tie hanger, selecting a red one which will match her dress and coordinate well with the gray suit she had watched him put on earlier.

"Are you ready?" Drea asks, her voice a bit less dispirited than it had been a few moments earlier, and Peggy nods and moves toward her. Drea spritzes the perfume precisely, two sprays that float in the air for Peggy to walk through. She had always touched on her own scent, a bit at each wrist and at her throat, and just a drop or two on a sachet in her brassiere, but then the children had come along, and now this was a particular tradition whenever one of them helped her get ready.

"Be good for Rose," Peggy says as she leaves the room, and Drea calls back, "If she's good to me."

Rose herself is sitting sprawled out in the doorway of her bedroom, scribbling into a notebook. She is in the midst of a hard-fought campaign for presidency of the upcoming senior class, and lately seems to have decided to plop herself down whenever an idea might catch her. Her legs aren’t long, even at the end of her growth spurt, but she’s positioned herself so they stretch out into the hallway and Peggy steps over them as she passes.

"Don't forget about bedtime," she reminds her eldest, and Rose makes a vague affirmative sound before she places a firm full stop at the end of whatever sentence she is writing and, stretching, looks up at her mother.

"What did you say?"

"Bedtime," Peggy repeats firmly. "Your siblings must adhere to it. As should you. I know that school is coming to an end, but it isn’t here yet."

"Fine," Rosie says with a wave of her hand, and Peggy knows that she'll see the bedroom light snap off just as they turn up the driveway. She starts on her way again (if Rose wants to develop poor sleeping habits, that is her responsibility) but then turns back.

"And be kind to your sister," she tells Rose, dropping her voice a bit. "I think she's having a hard time."

"I can make her a Surprise," Rose suggests, and Peggy shudders, and not just because of Rosie's notoriously poor cooking skills. Drea is the only one of the children with clear memories of her birth parents - she was five when they were killed in a fire while out for their anniversary dinner. One of the things she remembers most clearly is the multitude of casseroles her birth mother made: Hamburger Surprise, Tuna Surprise, Potato Surprise... Peggy has no doubt that they were as ordinary, or perhaps as lackluster, as any example of such a dish, but Drea had built them up in her mind, built them up for Nate, who had no memories of their parents, such that she had spent her childhood requesting various types of Surprises for birthday meals or following an especially good report card.

Steve has turned into a good cook and with Emma at his side they can turn out almost anything, but a Surprise has never been Peggy’s idea of fine cuisine.

"Supper is already being taken care of," Peggy says, adding the thankfully for you only mentally. She can smell Sam's Cornbread in the oven now, can hear the airy silence downstairs, punctuated with little sounds that signify Steve refereeing a fight between Emma and Nate, likely about how much spice to add to the chili. "Just be nice to Drea."

"If she's nice to me," Rosie says, and Peggy refrains from lifting her eyes upward and asking why she had been given two daughters who were so similar and yet refused to realize it.

"Everyone's finished their schoolwork, but make sure that Nate’s book report ends up in his bag. And Emma is trying a new recipe for creamed Brussels sprouts - please tell everyone that they must at least taste it. Don’t simply take the whole pot and bury it in the garbage pail, and certainly don’t try to throw it in the woods the way you did the spinach," Peggy tells her shrewdly, but a new idea seemed to have struck and Rosie is back to her notebook again.

Peggy moves on. Rose has minded her siblings before, and Peggy doesn't want to be late to the dinner and cause an inter-agency incident; Howard would never let her hear the end of it. Besides, she and Steve will have an opportunity to discuss Drea in the car over - there comes a point where even a night away from the children is never truly away from the children.

Rosie lets Nate and Emma stay up for an extra half hour to cement herself as a Cool Older Sister. Once they're asleep, she knocks on Drea's door, barely waiting to be invited before she enters.

Drea is lying on her back on her bed, tossing a ball up and catching it.

"Be careful it doesn't hit your face," Rose says, hoping that it doesn't come out mean or bossy the way her words sometimes do when she's talking to Drea.

"It’s never happened to me before.” Drea doesn’t take her eyes off the ball. “Just because you’re still scarred from the Wiffle Ball Incident—”

“You said you wouldn’t ever mention that!” Rose comes in and closes the door all the way. “Ugh, just move over.” Drea groans as she sits up against the headboard, but she tucks her legs up to make room and Rosie takes a seat. “Look, I heard you asking Mom about makeup and stuff. Are people giving you trouble at school? Because I’ll give them a talking to if they are.”

“You’re not queen of the high school yet. No one has to just listen to you when you go blab in their face,” says Drea, jutting out her chin, although they both know that when Rosie gives someone a talking to, it not infrequently involves violence. (There had been a question about whether or not she was even allowed to run for the student council based on the number of detentions and suspensions on her record.)

“You’re my sister,” says Rose, setting her own chin. “And if someone’s making problems for you, I’ll take care of it.”

Despite herself, Drea laughs. “You sound like Jimmy Hoffa.”

“Maybe, but Mom would make sure that I covered my tracks better than he did.” Rose lies back across the bed, legs just long enough for her feet to still touch the floor. She turns her face, her hair fanned around her as she looks at Drea, curled up at the head of the bed. “You know I’m serious, right?”

“I know. But it’s not really someone in particular, it’s just...life.”

Rosie sighs. “Yeah.” She puts out her hand, and Drea scooches down to grasp it. “Life’s hard.”

Sarcasm is on the tip of Drea’s tongue - “Tell me more, oh wise one!” - but instead she stays quiet and holds her sister’s hand until their parents return.

Drea and Steve go with Bucky, Layla, and their kids to watch a blowout Orioles win during their vacation at the end of July - Drea cheers louder than anyone. In August, after they've returned from their own vacation, Peggy sits Drea down at the vanity and walks her a half dozen different beauty products, while Rose comments loudly from the bed. Just before school starts in September, Drea uses her allowance to get a flat iron and gives herself three burns learning how to use it.

The Orioles lose the Series to the Mets, and Drea starts wearing dresses for the first time since she was a child.

It won’t be any help, Steve realizes as she sits down across from him at the breakfast table, settling her skirt self-consciously, sitting up straight and crossing her ankles with awkward politeness, to remind her once more that she doesn’t need to do this. She has a good head on her shoulders, and she’s using it to process everything in the world that tells her otherwise. He remembers what Peggy has said about it, that she’ll come back to herself, she’ll come back to them, when she’s ready. So instead he says, “Hey, kid,” and when she looks up at him, he smiles and tells her, “there’s always next year, you know? Always another shot if we need it.”

And to his relief, she smiles back, the expression familiar, wild-edged and lovely, the same as it’s always been. Hello in there, he thinks.

“Yeah, Dad,” she says. “There’s always next year.”

More chapters here

#Steggy fic #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #things left behind fic #probably nothing new next week while I do other fic prep

[elitespacefreak]

You Remind Me of Andromeda - Pt. 1

I’m so so so very excited to finally post this little ficlet for the lovely miss @heart-chime ! She sent in an ask a little while ago that I absolutely fell in love with and of course I had to be super extra, so in addition to the list of headcanons, here’s part one of an accompanying Zim x Reader ficlet - plus the first half of a playlist!

The postcard thing will make more sense in part two~

It wasn’t that you thought astronomy was a totally useless class – it was actually fairly refreshing considering you were a hardcore medical student. But dear god you sometimes just did not have the brain power to remember things. Intensive details about human anatomy? Sure, no problem. The name of one obscure astronomical event that happens only every how many years?

Jesus you weren’t Stephen Hawking.

“Who can tell me which galaxy is the most prominent during autumn?”

Did you even know the names of any other galaxies? Like if Billy Eichner ran up to you in the middle of the street and asked, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be getting that dollar.

“Andromeda.”

“Thank you, Zim.”

Ah yes, the resident space nerd, who was constantly screwing with the grading curve on quizzes. But even though you rolled your eyes you found yourself smiling. He might have been from another planet but somehow his intelligence was still incredibly attractive despite your expecting it.

Gretchen, your best friend since middle school, elbowed you from her seat with a raise of her perfectly groomed eyebrows. When you shrugged your shoulders at her she tilted her towards Zim, prompting you to quietly ask her again, before she huffed and waved you off and went back to pretending to be taking notes on her laptop. You were pretty sure she was reading an article on astrology. Zodiac compatibilities or whatever.

For a solid five minutes you completely zoned out, staring off in the direction of the whiteboard while students were called up to mark on a drawn map of the current night sky. They were labeling minor constellations according to what could currently be seen within a few degrees of the horizon. Two or three other kids were invested enough to fill out the map, aside from Zim and Dib, who did most of the work.

Dib was a good kid, he came around after he grew up. You weren’t totally savvy as to what happened, but you and Gretchen came back from summer camp one year and he and Zim were joined at the hip – in a good way. After that Gretchen had an absolute glow up and turned into a modern day, purple-haired Aphrodite. And Dib fell hard. It was always so cute watching them fall in love with each other over and over again.

As your thoughts continued to drift so did your eyes, and they fell on the boys at the front of the room, your mind making a passing comment on Dib’s new jacket Gretchen got him for Christmas before landing on Zim.

He’d grown, a lot. He was just a hair under six feet – and nobody ever heard the end of it – and he’d finally ditched the raspberry uniform. It had always looked good on him, like most things did, but human clothes fit him well, even if he was too stubborn to hide the green skin. He hadn’t needed to tell you, you’d figured it out on your own pretty quickly, but even after he came to terms with you knowing he still wouldn’t take your advice on investing in a more practical disguise. That was fine though, he was a really nice shade of green and –

“You’re free to go, just don’t forget you’ve got a quiz due before midnight tomorrow. If anyone needs to speak with me about the final project I’ll be in my office today after three.”

You blinked back to reality, lifting your head off your hand. “Well time really flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

Dib peeked over his shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn’t looking before vaulting over the row of desks in front you to grab his things. “Fun? You looked bored as fuck.”

Zim laughed beside him, tucking away his laptop. “Earth to Dr. Cameron, hello~”

“Oh knock it off, you know that show’s not real,” you chided, matching his cheeky smile with your own. “I was paying attention the entire time.”

Him and Dib both gave you a hard time as you followed them out of the classroom. Gretchen was still making faces at you and nodded her head at Zim without saying anything, and you continued to raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, making the boys turn around curiously. “Hey, why don’t we stop by Starbucks and get coffee? It’s lunch so we should be able to snag a table, clearly somebody needs to study.”

Before you could interject about how you were going to ace that quiz Zim was chanting ‘frappaccino’ and Dib was mimicking an echo behind him. They were so dumb sometimes but god did you love them. Even when they were shuffling out of the building to the beat of a song blaring from Zim’s headphones.

You took Gretchen’s hand and pulled her along, lacing your fingers together so you wouldn’t get pulled apart by the crowd. “Come on, we’re getting left behind.”

She pretended to look around and act confused. “By who? I don’t know them.”

--

The line at Starbucks was backed up to the door, but people were in and out for the lunch rush and Gretchen piled all of your belongings onto a table for keeps where she could watch it from a distance. While the four of you creeped along the snaking rows of students you were grilled on potential quiz material.

“Oh come on, I’m supposed to study first. This isn’t fair –”

“Life isn’t fair, which constellation is the star Vega located in?”

“What? I don’t –”

“Wrong.”

“How many stars make up the big dipper?”

“Oh god, uh…”

“Wrong. What kind of star is Arcturus?”

“Umm, I can’t remember – ”

“Wrong again.”

“Wow you’re gonna fail.”

Gretchen smacked her boyfriend on the arm and glared at him. “Your job is to help, not antagonize.”

Zim waved her off and draped his arm around your shoulders. “Relax, she’ll be fine, I’m easily the most qualified tutor here anyway~”

“Exactly,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist as you leaned into him with a smile.

You couldn’t see it because Zim was taller than you and you’d have to crane your neck to see his face from this angle. But the other two saw, saw the way his cheeks dusted just a shade darker, his eyes lit up, and the corner of his mouth twitched until his smile was lopsided. You didn’t know his light cough was corrective, but they did.

Gretchen shook her head goodnaturedly. “Yeah, if you say so. Now turn around so that poor barista doesn’t have to yell, she looks like she needs a nap.”

As you fumbled for your phone to pull up your Starbucks app you felt Zim’s arm slide off your shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “could I buy you coffee this time?”

His offer caught you a little off guard, and apparently laughing it off was your brain’s only means at saving face once you felt the butterflies start to collate in your stomach. “Pssht, you just want the extra stars, huh?”

He smiled and your heart melted. “It’s definitely a bonus, but you didn’t say no so I’m running with it.”

If the barista wasn’t currently waving you over you would’ve insisted that he didn’t have to, but his timing was perfect so you let him have this one. Plus your seven extra stars, the mooch. His frappes always got him at least eleven to begin with. “How many until your next freebie?”

He stepped off to the side and looked down at his phone. “Two.”

“Aww, guess I should’ve gotten that venti, huh?”

“Guess so, now I’ll just have to buy you coffee again.”

You know, for being from another planet you shouldn’t be this suave.

After everyone had their coffee - and got a good laugh at Dib’s name spelled ‘Memebrane’ - you all sat down at your table in the back corner. While you and Gretchen pooled your notes to compare the boys took the quiz just to be done with it so they could focus on helping you.

“Alright,” Dib said, pulling out the textbook and slapping it down on the table. “I figured we’d give you a run down of what kinds of things to expect, ask you a few questions to see where you stand, and then devise a plan of attack from there.”

“And then I,” Zim added emphatically, “can make sure you both go home knowing what to study in the interim. Sound good?”

His excitement over the subject always made you smile, and you nodded eagerly.

About forty minutes later you were less than half as eager as you were to start with. The subject matter, again, wasn’t boring, it was just… so different than what your brain was already used to. After the end of an hour and a half Gretchen had to call it quits, asking Zim to just text her a study guide later so she wouldn’t be late to her evening class. And of course, since Dib was such a studious boyfriend, left to walk her himself.

Leaving the two of you alone. Of course.

“You don’t have another class tonight, do you?”

With a solid effort to get your nervous leg to stop bouncing you looked up and shook your head. “No, I just needed to clean some before I went to bed, other than that I’m all yours~”

Zim was in the middle of sipping his frappe before he pulled it away and coughed, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a… a really big piece of ice.” He gave one good cough before putting his drink down and away from him. “Where were we?” His voice was a little raspy and it made you smile a little.

You looked down at your notes. “Oh yeah, the sex constellation.”

“Okay now I’m really glad I didn’t have my drink in hand that time.”

“I’m sorry! I don’t remember what it’s called, I just know it’s got a funny name,” you whined, hiding your face in your hands.

“You mean Sextant?”

“Yeah, I mean what even is a… whatever that is?”

He sighed but his smile was genuine and it made your hands start to fidget now that his eyes were on you. “It measures distances for things like altitude.”

“Oh,” you said, sounding very uninterested all of a sudden. “That’s not very exciting.”

“No, not as exciting at the sex constellation I guess,” he laughed.

“Shut up!”

“I’m just teasing,” he said, grabbing your hand when you reached across the tiny table to smack him. “ Besides, now you definitely won’t forget it. So, where’s it at on the map?”

The textbook wasn’t very user friendly when it came to finding the correct chunk of sky map, but once you figured out which one to look at you were able to point it without too much fuss.

“See? Not so hard.”

The conversation was on and off for the next half hour while Zim wrote you up a study guide and let you take one last look over everything before he insisted you’d studied enough and needed to put it down. As you were packing up and finishing off your coffee he offered to walk you back to your dorm.

You blushed just a little, turning your face back to your things. “Oh no, you don’t have to do that. It’s only a few minutes from here.”

“I know,” he said, shouldering his bag. “But it’s getting dark and I’d be an asshole if I didn’t insist, so I’m insisting.”

Well you weren’t going to argue with him, or pass up a chance to let him shower you in chivalry. So you let him walk you home, looping your arm around his while you kept pace with his long strides.

Again, you couldn’t see the helplessly infatuated look on his face, but it was one that even Eliza Schuyler would be proud of. Had you not been around he might have been humming ‘Helpless’ to himself.

The walk was quiet and your thoughts were left to wander, first from your astronomy quiz, to your next bio lab, to thinking you recognized that student you just walked by, to the weird look you got from them because you did recognize them and evidently they were silently congratulating you on your booty call because you never told them you had a boyfriend. In fact you told her the opposite about two weeks ago so now it was weird because you and Zim were not dating - but not that you didn’t want to, and you would, it was just that…

Your brain decided it had had enough of that train of thought, and instead interrupted with an arbitrary ‘what if he asked?’ and then you spiraled into a whole thing that dumped you into your high school memories. That had been a weird time for everyone just in general, but your friend group had gone through some exceptional growing pains.

You were coming to terms with what going through med school was going to entail (which was a lot), Gretchen was in the middle of a huge falling out with both of her parents, Dib was finally clawing his way out of the worst time of his life and going to therapy, and Zim…

Well, he probably had it the worst, and ended up embodying the whole “teenage rebellion” thing to an absurd degree. You remember liking the hair and new jacket, but the rest of it was just so much. The only reason you knew he was pretending to take notes in class while actually writing angry letters to his ex-Tallest (he’d been very particular about that for a while) was because he always looked so angry and eventually one of his teachers sent him to the counselor. After that there was a good week of heart-to-heart sleepovers with everyone because Gretchen insisted.

But by the end of two years things sort of… got better. You had a viable plan of action to get you through med school, Gretchen found a healthy way to be removed from her parents without the animosity, Dib’s therapy had done wonders, and Zim grew up. You remembered it all happening so fast, it was like one day you were all a bunch of edgy kids trying to prove something to the world and the next day you realized you only cared about proving something to yourselves instead.

What a crazy few years.

“What are you thinking about?”

Huh? Oh! You blinked and hummed. “High school.”

“Oh God.”

You laughed and made a face. “What? You didn’t like high school?”

Zim made a little gagging noise. “Ew, no, do you even remember high school?”

“Pfft, yeah I remember that stupid expensive leather jacket you wore.”

“Listen I deserved something nice. It’s not my fault I was impressionable and you humans have terrible coping mechanisms.”

“I’m kidding,” you said, bumping him with your hip as you walked. “But the wig was nice.”

He absently trailed his fingers through his hair, biting his lip to cease the smile that honestly never left him. “Yeah? I kinda thought it was obnoxious actually.”

“You were a rebellious grungy emo boy, of course it was obnoxious. But at least you looked…?” You paused, rolling a few words around on your tongue.

“Normal?”

“Well, not really, but close enough?”

He shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get. Want me to walk you upstairs?”

The two of you had reached your dorm building, a cookie cutter copy of three other buildings just like it. Usually it was pretty lively during the day, but somehow it just felt so foreboding once the sun went down. It was probably the fluorescent street lamps and flickering lights over the front doors. Plus the trees looked a little too lifelike in the dark.

You scrunched your nose. “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all~” He followed you up to the door and waited for you to pull out your student ID, listening for the doors to click once you swiped it across the panel. “There’s a hell of a blind spot over here, I don’t think this camera can - ”

You bristled and pulled the door open. “Don’t tell me that!” you chided, putting your ID away. “There’s enough weirdos around here as it is, I don’t need to know about how bad the security system is.”

Zim laughed and made a face. “My bad. I could fix it though.”

The two of you stopped in front of the elevators and waited for one of the two to come down to the ground floor. “That’s probably illegal.”

“It’s definitely illegal. I’m just saying I could.” He looked up and around at the foyer, sticking his hands in his pockets as a sliver of nervous energy coiled in his stomach. Being around other people was one thing, being totally alone in an enclosed space was a completely different thing. The ‘ding’ made him jump, he was glad you didn’t notice.

As you stepped in and pressed the button for the seventh floor you sighed. “I bet if I took the stairs every day my legs would look great.”

You didn’t see his eyes flick down, or the way his jaw clenched as he bit his tongue, begging himself not to correct you out loud. But what he did say made you look. “You always c-maybe come do the gym with some time - ” He didn’t even really finish before he set his hands on his hips and just stared at the ground.

“Uh,” you tried so hard not to laugh, “What-?”

“You know I’m pretty sure I blacked out for that entire sentence.”

“Did you have a stroke?”

“No idea.”

“Can you even have those?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“I hope not,” you said, stepping out of the elevator as it stopped and the doors slid open. “Those are no joke, so you better not die on me.”

He followed you out and around the corner, humming. “Would you miss me?”

“Of course I’d miss you, you’re my best friend.” When you looked up you saw a dopey smile spread across his face. “Aww, see? You do have a heart.” you teased, leaning your head against his arm.

“Who, me?” He rested his hand on your opposite shoulder. “Absolutely not.”

You scoffed. “Liar.”

“Technically, I do not have the biological equivalent of a heart.”

You picked your head up and scowled. “Wait, but when I give you hugs sometimes I hear a rhythmic thumping, so what the fuck is that then?”

He shrugged and smiled. “I dunno, maybe I’ll let you play doctor some day and find out.”

There was a catch in your step as you tripped over what he said. “I - what?”

Suddenly his whole face flushed and both hands flew up to cover his face. “Oh god I’m so sorry, I forgot that was a weird sexual thing for you guys, aaaaahh,” he whined.

You laughed and waved your hand. “Oh no, no I thought you were asking me to like… cut you open or something?”

Zim pulled his hands away just enough to look absolutely horrified at you. “No no, please don’t do that either.”

“I would never let anyone do that to you, ever,” you promised, holding his arm and guiding him along down the hallway. “I was just asking, dummy. I don’t think I could ever pull off the sexy nurse thing anyway so that went right over my head.”

“Well I mean that’s debatable,” he whispered.

You looked up at him. “What?”

“What?”

“Did you just…?”

He stopped in front of your door, his eyes going a bit wide. “Oh I said that out loud didn’t I?”

You blushed, pulling your ID out of your back pocket to open your door. “Don’t worry, I’m flattered~”

He blinked a few times, absolutely mortified at himself. “Uh huh, well I’m going to stop talking and give you a hug now.”

You propped the heavy metal door open with the heel of your foot and leaned in to hug him goodbye. He was always good for hugs, something about being platonically repressed and Irken social norms or whatever, but his were your favorite. He was the perfect height too, you could snuggle right in between his chin and shoulder and wrap your arms all the way around and up his back, nice a flush - those were the best. You always felt yourself linger a little longer than with anyone else, but he didn’t seem to care, and Gretchen was the only one who ever pointed it out. It wasn’t like you were counting the seconds or anything…

“Oh hey~” Speaking of Gretchen.

You pulled away and turned around, tilting your head. “Hey, I thought you had class?”

Gretchen was draped across the couch with her laptop and leftover Starbucks. “Me too, until I got there and realized no one was coming. Wetzle got food poisoning during lunch today so he cancelled last minute. How was studying?” The lilt in her voice always assumed something.

You crossed your arms. “It was productive.”

Her lips twitched. “I’m sure it was~”

When you rolled your eyes and finally said goodnight you saw Gretchen make a beeline for the door before you got to your bedroom, but you didn’t bother to stay within earshot, if you wanted to sleep at all you still had some work to do.

When Gretchen was sure you couldn’t hear she poked her head out through the door. “Hey space nerd, get back here.”

Zim was already halfway down the hall before he groaned and walked back over and leaned against the wall as dramatically as possible. “What?”

Gretchen smiled, raising her eyebrows as her fingers drummed against the doorframe. “Sooo? How’d it go?”

“It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yes, just fine.”

She scoffed and slouched her shoulders. “Oh come on, why can’t you just say something?”

Zim leaned against his arms and pressed his head into the wall, whining. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“What happened? You bought her coffee, it was cute, what gives?”

He only whined.

“Oh my god Zim, you are such a baby. Just talk to her, it’s not that hard.”

His head raised just enough to scowl at her. “It is hard, because I tried like five minutes ago, and I’m pretty sure I blacked out and had a stroke. This isn’t - stop laughing it isn’t funny!”

Gretchen held a hand up to her mouth and waved. “No no, you’re right, it isn’t funny… it’s fucking hilarious.” When he started to genuinely look hurt she sighed and bumped him on the arm. “Okay okay, I’m sorry, this is hard for you. But - okay so maybe just talking isn’t gonna work for you… clearly. But you’ve got to do something, otherwise it’s gonna be this shitty soap opera type pining after each other bullshit forever and, I’m sorry, but it’s getting real old. Like I’m gagging on it.”

He shoved her goodnaturedly and turned around to slouch against the doorframe next to her. “Okay so talking isn’t working, what else is there? I mean I thought I was being pretty obvious? Unless I’ve totally misread this entire situation, and if I have don’t tell me because my poor soft little heart can’t take it.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That’s the thing though, you are being glaringly obvious, but you don’t seem to understand that that’s not enough. Literally everyone around you gets it, but she doesn’t. That’s the problem, there’s not a whole lot else you can do if you won’t just flat out say, ‘oh hey, by the way, I’ve been in love with you since our senior year of high school, can I take you out for dinner.’ Subtlety goes right over her head, so if you can’t be up front with words, you gotta do something that’s still gonna get the point across.” When he opened his mouth to ask something Gretchen immediately started shaking her head. “No, you can’t just skip straight to the dinner date, she’ll think it’s a friendly thing. She’s… incredibly platonically inclined, you’ve got to spell this shit out.”

Zim groaned and slid halfway down the wall before forcing himself upright. “Okay, fine. You’re the best friend, tell me what’ll get her attention.”

Gretchen pursed her lips, then smiled. “How about you give me my study sheet, then we’ll talk.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“You still owe me a study sheet!”

“Yeah, and you’ll get one, but you don’t have to hold it over my head.”

She waved him off down the hall. “Less arguing, more complying with my demands~”

“Yeah yeah,” he called, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked back down the hall to leave for good this time. Gretchen was a good friend, and he had all the faith in the world in her… he just hoped whatever advice she had would actually work.

You were too good to let slip away.

#PSA YOU HAVE TO SCROLL A BIT AFTER THE READMORE BEFORE YOU SEE TEXT BECAUSE TUMBLR SUCKS BALLS AT FORMATTING???? #invader zim #fanfiction #zim x reader #AAAHHHH I HOPE YOU LIKE IT #You Remind Me of Andormeda #there will also be a part two of the playlist because there were just so many songs i couldn't pick asdfhakdhjkds