#not really a vent just talking about *gestures vaguely* stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kob131 · 2 years

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https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBYcritics/comments/vpbf7w/okay_i_played_nice_but_i_am_going_to_finally_vent/

Hope you don’t mind if I vent to, because this is horse shit.

But then I was reminded of Volume Nine, of how CRWBY said, oh it's going to be Ruby's Volume, and then more came out, and we get a vague description, a name of some Island that is either going to be the afterlife or some bloody alternate future all samurai jack style or maybe not even any of those effing things!

And then of course it turns out they are going to introduce even more new characters. Despite saying this is Ruby's volume. You know....

RUBY GODDAMN ROSE!

I would like to point out that the closest thing to a ‘character’ that we know of is the talking mouse. Which given its first scene is to basically set up and act as a step in RUBY’S journey- this doesn’t really make sense.

And spoiler alert- the issue of ‘I completely ignored shit so I can angry’ is a recurring issue.

The Girl whose trailer sold the show long before the other trailers showed up!

Who didn’t HAVE a character at the time and could have been replaced with ANYONE in the show since it was about the ACTION.

The Girl the pilot episode was named after!

Ever heard of a red herring?

The Girl who has silver eyes that function like fucking Deus Ex Machinas!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deus_ex_machina

“Deus ex machina (/ˌdeɪəs ɛks ˈmækɪnə, - ˈmɑːk-/ DAY-əs ex-MA(H)K-in-ə,[1] Latin: [ˈdɛ.ʊs ɛks ˈmaːkʰɪnaː]; plural: dei ex machina; English "god out of the machine")[2][3] is a plot device whereby a seemingly unsolvable problem in a story is suddenly and abruptly resolved by an unexpected and unlikely occurrence.[4][5] Its function is generally to resolve an otherwise irresolvable plot situation, to surprise the audience, to bring the tale to a happy ending, or act as a comedic device.[6] “

By definition, they only qualify in Volume 3.

AND YET IN WHAT WARPED VISION OF REALITY COULD ANYONE EVER CALL HER THE MAIN FUCKING CHARACTER?!

WHAT HAS SHE ACTUALLY DONE FOR MOST OF THE SHOW?!

The reality we live in, where she is responsible for EVERYTHING after Volume 3.

No, really. Ruby chooses to leave, taking Jaune, Ren and Nora with her. By Jaune’s own admission, they would not have done so. She also motivated Yang to leave, leading to find Raven and thus rescue Weiss. Her presence also causes Cinder to push up their plan for Haven, which ends up fucking them over and foiling their plans. It also means Blake is able to stop them as Adam couldn’t get backup from Salem’s faction, to say nothing of how Ruby’s actions also lead to Tyrian being forced back instead of inevitably joining the fight given his hunt for the Spring Maiden.

Volume 4 and 5, thus by extension 6-8, only work because of RUBY’s decision.

But hey, maybe he has a brilliant rebuttal to this!

Volume One she legit did fucking nothing! It was mostly Blake that did shit!

... I didn’t know Volume 1 consisted of two episodes. Given that’s ALL that Blake is active for.

Then Volume Two? Once again it's Blake's stuff that is largely driving the fucking plot and Ruby just happens to be there! She fought Cinder for a bit, but that goes nowhere, and it's only real time they've fought, because Volume Three wasn't even really a fight, it was just deus ex machina!

Completely ignoring that Ruby is the one to decide to split up, involving everyone and thus ensuring the destruction of the Paladin.

Ruby: (Ruby raises her hand and does other random gestures, while looking manic.) Okay, all in favor of becoming the youngest Huntresses to single-handedly taking down a corrupt organization conspiring against the Kingdom of Vale... say aye.

And that she’s also responsible for going to Mt. Glenn.

Ruby: This is perfect! All we have to do is shadow a Huntsman working in the southeast!

Yang: Yeah! We'll follow them around by day and give them the slip by night!

Weiss: Let's check "search and destroy"!

Team RWBY approaches a hologram screen.

Ruby: Here we go! Quadrant 5 needs Grimm cleared out!

Blake: Well, it's in the southeast!

Yang: Sounds perfect!

Ruby selects it and types in her team name. However, the screen says that first years are not allowed to take this mission.

Weiss: Wonderful!

Blake: Any other ideas?

Ruby: We mail ourselves there!

Ozpin: (offscreen) Well, that's one option.

Ozpin suddenly appears.

Ozpin: Unfortunately, we determined that the concentration of Grimm was too extreme for first-year students. It seems that particular region is rather popular. In fact, I have the sneaking suspicion that you four will make your way there no matter which job you choose.

Weiss, Blake, and Yang glare at Ruby, who nervously rubs her head.

Ruby: Whatever makes you say that?

Ozpin: I'm still curious how you all found yourself at the docks last semester. I'm interested to know how you really learned about a hideout in the southeast. And I certainly wonder why witnesses reported seeing robots and rose petals in a dance club some time ago.

Ruby: Um... well...

Ozpin: I doubt I'll ever find the exact answers I'm looking for. So how about this: instead of waiting for you all to break the rules, why don't we just bend them?

Ozpin selects some things on his scroll, and the hologram screen makes a noise.

Ruby: We won't let you down. Thank you, professor.

As well as bring Zwei-

Oobleck: Young lady, what in the world could you possibly have in that bag that could be so important to bring it with... (Stops as the bag's zipper opens and out pops Zwei's head, causing everyone to stare at the uninvited guest.)

-Who in turn sets off the finale by following WF guards, leading to RUBY HERSELF following him.

Ruby: Huh? Zwei, it's late. Go back to bed. (Zwei runs off.) Zwei! Zwei! Ugh! (Ruby wanders out of the building, looking for Zwei.) Zwei! Zwei, where are you? Zwei! Huh? (Ruby spots Zwei urinating on some ruins.) Zwei, this is a wasteland! You literally could have done that anywhere!

Zwei: Bark!

WF Guard 1: What was that?

Having heard the WF Guard, Ruby hides behind some ruins.

WF Guard 2: What was what?

WF Guard 1: I thought I heard a Beowolf or something.

WF Guard 2: Hmph. Let's just finish our patrol and get back to base. This place gives me the creeps.

As the WF Guards walk away, Ruby and Zwei sneak around in the background, following them. They eventually reach a ruined building with a pair of metal doors, and Ruby hides behind a corner, holding Zwei out to watch them.

Ruby: Did they go in yet? One bark means yes.

The sound of the door closing echoes out.

Zwei: Bark!

Ruby: Oh! This is it! This is it! (She brings out a small scroll and tries to call her teammates. However, the screen says "Low Signal") Aw man! Come on, we gotta get the others!

Ruby and Zwei hurry off down the street. However, the asphalt beneath them suddenly sinks before caving in. Ruby grabs onto a ledge and catches Zwei. She tosses him up out of the hole and begins to attempt to pull herself up. However, the ledge she is holding onto breaks off, and she plummets into a huge cave filled with ruined buildings, far below the surface. She lands on a building up against a cavern wall, and as she gets up, a nearby door bursts open to reveal two other WF Guards, one of whom is Perry.

But sure. Being responsible for both of Volume 2′s ACTUAL conflicts is ‘not being the main character.’

Speaking of Volume Three is Pyrrha's Volume, and RWBY just happens to exist there.

Ignoring Ruby’s connection Penny and Qrow, important figures in Volume 3...and her fights with Torchwick which end with him killed before he could cause more damage...and going off to find Jaune and Pyrrha which leads to crippling Cinder and thus Cinder’s motivation from then on.

Real lack of agency, focus or connection.

Then come Volume Four, and while Yang is angsting on her ass, except no it gets glossed over because it's too fucking boring apparently.

You are begging for attention on a subreddit that made dealing with an overwhelming situation about fucking tea. Kiss my ass.

Weiss mopes until she is out of there.

I didn’t know ‘was forced to be a puppet by her father because it is the only certainty’ was “moping”.

And Blake instead of trying to stick around and protect her team and friends, she runs away to go cry to her bloody family! It being lucky that Adam didn't fucking carry through on his threat!

It’s called a ‘flaw’. I know basic writing concepts is not this subreddit’s forte but even ignorant high schoolers understand this.

And Ruby? Don't fucking make me laugh, Volume Three might have had her come up with the idea to go to Haven.

But she sure as fuck wasn't leading Team RNJR despite the name.

Honestly, I couldn't tell you who the leader was before Ozpin came along. It seemed to either be Jaune or Qrow.

Hold on, he forgot something.

And Ruby? Don't fucking make me laugh, Volume Three might have had her come up with the idea to go to Haven which single handedly caused the events of Volume 4+ to actually function but we all know you fucks are basically trained parrots.

But she sure as fuck wasn't leading Team RNJR despite the name.

Honestly, I couldn't tell you who the leader was before Ozpin came along. It seemed to either be Jaune or Qrow.

Explanation? Uh....RWBY bad!

There, fixed it.

Ruby gets a little nightmare, gets a little sad, but NOPE CAN'T HAVE THAT, INSTEAD SURE, LET'S JUST FUCKING FOCUS ON JAUNE FOR A BIT, EVEN THOUGH WE JUST HAD RUBY HAVING A NIGHTMARE!

Which is shown to be caused by a recording of Pyrrha JAUNE had.

But hey, let’s check how that little thread ended. I know we are aware Jaune will completely overshadow Ruby because OP has been batting a 1000 so far but just to strengthen his argument, let’s che-

Ruby looks at Qrow before standing and approaching Jaune.

Ruby: I'm sorry.

Jaune: Huh?

He turns around to face her, though she is not looking up.

Ruby: This is all my fault. I should have never dragged you guys into this.

Jaune: You didn't drag us in. We wanted to come.

Ruby: But you didn't know about Tyrian, about—

Jaune: (cutting her off) Ruby. We lost... We lost Pyrrha.You lost her, too. And Penny, and your team, and in a way... your sister. But you're still here, despite everything you've lost, everything you could still lose, you chose to come out here.

Ruby turns to face Jaune, and becomes emotional as he continues.

Jaune: Because you felt like you could make a difference.

She lifts her head and looks at him.

Jaune: You didn't drag us along. You gave us the courage to follow you.

He puts his hand on her shoulder. She smiles at him, grateful, and he smiles back.

It ends with Jaune talking about how great Ruby is. Which anyone not huffing paint thinner would know that it was focused on RUBY then.

And then Volume Five... Oh look, Ruby has a little crush on Ruby/Jaune 2.0 with Wizard Mentor stuck inside of him. A character that is now as fucking important as Ruby herself, and he was introduced in volume fucking four, after three volumes, where our main character barely gets any fucking development, whose silver eyes are barely explored at all!

... Oscar’s the one with the crush, not Ruby. I know that you are desperately trying to play on the subreddit’s need to hear ‘RWBY bad’ in order to hide how contradictory to canon your arguments are but you must know: good lies require a core of truth.

And BTW- Ruby was the one to recover from seeing Blake first and ordered Yang to follow Raven and Cinder, which lead to them getting the Relic. So once again, Ruby single handedly shapes the following Volumes through her actions.

The little jackass is just thrust into being one of if not the most important character in regards to the plot more than Ruby, the so-called main goddamn character!

Not really, it’s just you and desperate critics saying that.

And all she amounts to in Volume Five, is getting one little letter, getting her ass kicked by Emerald, to make Oscar get the power of fucking super boner to go save her ass.

Blake: Yang?

Yang stares back at her in disbelief, before her sister snaps her out of her trance.

Ruby: Yang! Go! (pointing in the direction of the vault entrance)

Yang runs forward. Emerald and Mercury try to stop her.

Emerald: No!

Emerald tries to stop Yang, but fails to and falls to the ground. Mercury grabs her prosthetic arm. Yang's eyes briefly turn red before turning back to normal. She detaches her arm and continues forward, causing Mercury to lose his balance for a bit. She jumps down the hole leading to the vault. Emerald and Mercury attempt to give chase, but they are stopped by an ice wall that suddenly appears in front of them. They turn around and see Weiss with her Queen Lancer summon as she prepares to fight the both of them. Jaune watches from his position and smiles. Ruby then turns back around to look at Blake, and both nod at each other as the cat Faunus goes back outside to join the battle.

Wasn’t lying when I said that Ruby is responsible for Volume 6 onward too.

And all she amounts to in Volume Five, is getting one little letter, getting her ass kicked by Emerald, to make Oscar get the power of fucking super boner to go save her ass.

You know, for a supposed Ruby fan, you sure do love ignoring her accomplishments.

Almost like you only like a certain version of Ruby.

And what does this all amount to for Ruby? Nothing! Because now at least when she made a choice to go to Haven, it was her own fucking choice.

But now? Oh she just heads to Atlas, because Ozpin said so.

Ozpin. The guy who actually knows what’s going on and what to do.

This is like that one trope of a salesman tricking someone into buying shit by appealing to their pride, except the salesman is 100% serious.

And then Six finally tries to give Ruby shit to do. But what does she fucking do? She drags the painful truth of Ozpin's past out of Ozpin, and her team just watches by, calls him a bastard, and her Uncle is allowed to just punch a little boy, who while I fucking hate Oscar right now, since I am in full fucking rage mode. And will cool down eventually, that punch was still out of line!

So, gonna mention that RUBY was the one to comfort Oscar?

Oscar: (grabbing the cane) I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?

Ruby: (puts her hand on his) Of course not. You're your own person.

No? Weird since you’re SUUUCH a Ruby fan...

And then she later fucking balls on her Uncle, forces him to quit drinking, pretty much tells him "Fuck You" In her "We dOn'T NeEd AdulTs" Speech.

... Qrow kept drinking himself into a dysfunctional mess every given chance, constantly kept bringing the mood down in a world where negativity attracts DEADLY Grimm and did fuck all to help. Cry me a river.

And then I could maybe excuse stealing the airship into Atlas, if there was no real other solution but there was, Weiss could get in, with the relic and maybe Qrow in his bird form.

*pulls out a tape recorder and presses play*

“Weiss was specifically stated she could go HOME, to her STAUNCHLY ANTI-IRONWOOD father who LOCKED HER AWAY. And crows can fly at max 40 miles continuously. Atlas is farther away on the map than me and my mom at 90 miles.”

What was the actual fucking point in that conflict? Nothing! But the fact they just wanted to show off a big fancy mech! But it did nothing for the characters.

Cordovin: Surrender for your crimes, and accept your punishment.

Ruby: (defiantly) No!

Cordovin gasps in shock as Ruby's friends look to her.

Ruby: We're going to Atlas. Bigger people than you have tried to stop us and failed, but we're supposed to be on the same side! We're supposed to use our power to protect people, but you just use yours to look down on everyone!

Cordovin ponders Ruby's words.

Ruby: We didn't want to steal from you. We did it because you gave us no other choice! Now I'm giving you one last chance to stand down and hear us out.

Silence for a moment.

Cordovin: I've heard enough...

Cordovin then aims her arm cannon at Ruby. Ruby's friends run over to her in panic.

Oscar: (reaching out) Ruby!!

Qrow gains a look of horror on his face as Cordovin fires up the arm cannon. Suddenly Ruby uses her Semblance and flies into the arm cannon.

Cordovin: WHAT?!!

Nora: She's NUTS!!

Ruby continues flying into the arm cannon.

Jaune: The missile launcher springs out... but the raw dust gets locked in!

Inside the arm cannon, Ruby plants Crescent Rose into the ground and takes aim at the buildup of Dust. She fires and uses her Semblance to quickly get out of the arm cannon. Suddenly, the arm cannon explodes, covering it in ice and stone.

Cordovin: What?! No! NO!!

As Ruby flies backward, her Aura runs out and falls unconscious. Her fall is slowed down by black Glyphs from Weiss, and Qrow catches his niece in his arms. Weiss collapses in exhaustion as Jaune, Ren and Nora run over to her.

P.S. remember that ‘for the characters’ bit. It’ll bite him in the ass in 3...2...1-

And then Volume Seven happens, and she lies to Ironwood, because sure why the fuck not. It's not like he didn't give her sister an arm, it's not like he didn't fight alongside her uncle for years, helped during the Fall, or was accommodating to them, and let them on his plan.

I won't be too much of a simp for Ironwood, and claim he was flawless, I love him but he did do some wrong things. But he didn't do anything wrong at the beginning that would warrant Ruby to fucking lie to him, not only does it insult Ironwood, it insults Ruby's own character who barely got any development, but what I can say for absolute certainty, is the Ruby Rose of Volumes One and Two wouldn't have fucking lied about something that important.

It was one thing when she and her team were tracking down leads on the white fang and roman in Volume Two. That was a personal matter, and they still didn't know the larger picture.

But to just lie about Salem and the Relics? And her immortality? Shit that everyone should probably know before trying to pick some big epic fight with Salem? Just fucking hell!

And despite how her team confronts her about it, they're just as bad because they wag their little fingers, but they have no trouble going behind Ruby's back to Robyn and letting her in on secrets, yet they couldn't be bothered to let Ironwood know the truth.

And the writers couldn't even let Ruby own up to Ironwood, no who did they give that burden of responsibility to? Oh yeah Ruby/Jaune 2.0. Not Ruby Rose.

Hey look at that, him completely ignoring Ruby’s character to bitch. Who knew?

A. Ozpin did more and still proved untrustworthy. That is not how people work.

B. Ruby tried to sneak off to fight the White Fang, with despite what you say WASN’T personal.

C. Almost like she’s MEANT to be wrong.

D. Gee, not like YANG confronted her over NOT TELLING THE TRUTH which SHE did.

E. And who confronted Ironwood on his decision, was portrayed as his counterpart for the heroes and remained his opposition in Volume 8? ... Ruby? Oh damn that pesky canon!

But surely she got some cool new upgrades? Some scenes with her dear friend Penny? Or I dunno anything? No?

Not even a rematch with Cinder... Oh Cinder got scared and ran away when Ruby's eyes glowed.

Okay... uh anything else... no that's it...

“She got to be the driving force. Again.”

“AUGH! IT BURNS US! IT BURNS US!”

And then Volume Eight...

Ughhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh let's just shove her into the fucking mansion, and let Yang, Jaune, and Ren go into the fucking whale. Not Ruby, not Weiss, or Blake, just sure, no wonder people keep thinking Jaune is the real main character you bleeping-

And then that plan, that fucking plan, and maybe it would've even worked somewhat, except, the writers don't even let her use her silver eyes once, because they know that Cinder shouldn't have any fucking chance at all. And don't give me horsecrap about her needing to focus, because in the previous volumes, she seemed to do it near instantly.

“Sir, we have video evidence that a lot more happened and it directly contradicts you.”

“Well I don’t see it!”

“That’s because you gouged your eyes out.”

Okay now that the rant is over. Time to get somber.-

By ‘somber’ he means, ‘dig up Monty while proclaiming he isn’t to preach about how RWBY was better with him even though his own arguments would say otherwise, all while trying to tug on your emotional connection to Monty so that you won’t think.”

I’ve said it a thousand times so here’s a thousand and one: Just dig up his corpse. You’d be more honest. Fuck you and fuck your emotional manipulation,

As I demonstrated, your arguments mean nothing. You go in looking for confirmation of your feelings and thus ignore the ever growing mountain of evidence against you. Nothing you say matters because you’d say it no matter what. You coculd have avoided all of this by putting in less effort.

You choose to get angry. And so, you have no one to blame but yourself.

33 notes · View notes

fabricated-misslieness · 3 years

Note

Hey, can you do a Dazai x Port Mafia Executive Male Reader. Where reader is Dazai former partner before he gets replace by Chuuya and instead of Chuuya coming for Q and fighting Lovecraft its reader instead. Readers ability is like Shigaraki from bnha.

Dazai Osamu x sadistic!male reader

Ngl I was a little confused cause the last time I watched bsd was months ago.

Also made the reader sadistic because yes. i forgot the reason

Part 2

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 3859

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (Dazai stuff ofc), angsty boi

“You want me to pair up with this rookie?” You gesture in the vague direction of Dazai. You know he’s there, but you don’t act like it.

Dazai huffs, offended by your words. He crosses his arms. You weren’t giving him the best impression and if you were going to be partners, he at least had to tolerate you enough to keep his head on his shoulders.

“Now, now,” Mori chides with a sweet tone. You don’t trust the guy, he may act kind, but you’re sure he hides something with that kindness. “He’s already a port mafia executive.” You roll your eyes, he was only one of them because he witnessed the old boss handing down his title ‘willingly’. You seriously doubted he did do it willingly, seeing as it was a mere few minutes before his death. That sort of coincidence belongs to a movie.

“Like I don’t know that.” You shake your head. “Fine, fine, I’ll be his partner. I only want to know what he can do. He has an ability, doesn’t he?”

You finally acknowledge his presence, turning to him and sizing him up. Dazai is flustered by the gesture, but he pretends to act calm and collected, something that works with that young poker face of his.

“Yes--” Mori is interrupted by the executive himself, who is eager to show off.

“Yes, I do.” Dazai replies, uncrossing his arms. “But what’s yours?”

You furrow your eyebrows. Abilities are wide and unique, ranging from psychological to physical to straight magic. Knowing your ability could be a part of his ability. You were to work together so he’d know either way, but at the moment, you wanted to know his weaknesses.

“That’s valuable information.” You crack your knuckles and stretch, pretending to prepare for a fight.

“No fighting in my office.” Mori reminds you. “Or the building, for that matter. One of your abilities is particularly destructive, and we don’t know what you could do. Go to the training area if you’re going to fight.”

You give both of them a smirk, “Who says I was going to fight? I was merely enjoying the look in Dazai’s eye.”

Dazai frowned, quickly fixing his composure. It’s true, he was a little intimidated and he did not mean to let it show.

“You’re quite sadistic, aren’t you?” Mori chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s one thing right about me, boss.” You smile brightly. Dazai furrows his eyebrows and examines you. That smile of yours is sickeningly sweet, almost mocking. You look like a monster, but maybe that was part of your act. He’d know your ability in no time.

“Well, as partners you do have to know each other’s abilities. I picked Dazai specifically for you.” That gave each of them a hint to each other’s abilities, more to Dazai than anything.

You nod letting out a sigh, “Do you have anything you don’t want, Mori?”

Dazai quirks an eyebrow, interested in the peculiar question. Mori nods, nudging forward a tongue depressor, those big wooden popsicle sticks, one he could very well spare.

You pick up with all but one finger, your middle finger, holding it up for both of them to see. “Do you have anything for the debris?” Mori slides a metal tray towards the edge of the table.

“Pay close attention, Dazai.” You give him a glance before looking back at the stick, putting your final finger on it. It disintegrates in a matter of seconds, turning into pieces so small that they look like ash. “What’s yours?” You turn to him.

Dazai seems to shrink under your gaze, but he keeps a stoic look. “Put your hand on my arm.” You raise an eyebrow. Does he wish to experiment with your ability or is it part of his?

You put your hand on his arm, once again with all but one finger. You don’t trust him, that much is clear.

“Trust me.” The look he gives you is genuine, albeit the smile is devilish, though you oblige all the same.

Your eyebrows furrow when your ability has no effect. The skin doesn’t disintegrate, nor does it fall apart as usual. “That is my ability, No Longer Human.”

“And that is why I paired you two up.”

You huff a little angrily once you realize. His ability stops other abilities, what triggered it you didn’t know, but that wasn’t the most important thing for you. He paired you two up to have him be your control. You don’t need anyone to control you and you don’t want anyone to control you. You want to do you and you do not want this boy to hold you back.

You open your mouth to protest but Mori interrupts you. “This is my decision and mine alone, you cannot say otherwise.” As much as you want to mess up his pretty face, you couldn’t disobey the boss.

“Fine.”

As time grew on, Dazai had become a friend, though sometimes he felt like more than a friend. Despite your early refusal to the idea, you’d really warmed up to each other.

Dazai, the young bastard, was also quite the prick at times. Though you couldn’t really complain about his age since it turns out you’re within the same age range. While he was a prick, he was also caring, as you’d come to learn.

Sometimes he’d hold your forearm when you were touching something, even though over the years you’d built up the habit to not use your middle finger. Every time he did so you would laugh and it would somewhat fluster you, you’d tell him you didn’t need it and without fail he would say “Just in case.” It was nice to know he cared, and the other little gestures he would perform were even nicer.

You were known for being a little sadistic, taking joy from inflicting pain for no reason. When he’d hold you back from attacking some random lackey at the time it would make you angry, but a few minutes later you’d be grateful for it. After all, that lackey wouldn’t be very useful with an injury.

Though sometimes even he couldn’t hold you back. When you’d start a fight with another executive just for your enjoyment, he was quick to be there and keep you in touch. Perhaps you did need control after all.

The other executives were rather thankful for Dazai, as you chose someone to pick on every week. Something you hated about Dazai was that he was immune to your mockery. He got used to it from your partnership and he couldn’t be hurt by your ability. But you supposed it was for the better, the other executives were starting to get really annoyed by you.

Except everything changed when Nakahara came along.

Although your partnership was relatively new, you found comfort in each other’s companies. You protected each other’s weaknesses and complemented each other’s strengths; so when the news came along that Chūya would replace you as Dazai’s partner, both of you were a little ticked off, per say.

Dazai’s first impression on the newer rookie didn’t help their relationship. Chūya annoyed him to the very ends of the Earth and he did not want him to replace you. It wasn’t just Chūya either, he’d grown very fond of you. Sometimes he couldn’t even fight without you; He was used to you being there to back him up, though this detail he would not tell you.

In time, you didn’t look like the monster he’d thought you were in his first impression of you. You actually looked sweet.

Your smile, which for everybody else would be sadistic, turned out to look more endearing to him. Everybody caught onto the fact that the smiles you’d directed at him weren’t the smiles he’d show others. Somehow you hadn’t realized it, but he had.

You’d grown to like him, dare say crush on him, which was something you denied. His triumphant smile after the end of a mission and the jokes he’d make as you fought were always the highlight of your day.

None of you wanted to give up the other.

“This is his decision and his alone, we cannot say otherwise.” You mocked, making Dazai snicker. The fact he used the same words was quite ironic, really.

Tomorrow marked Chūya and his first mission together, so you’d dedicated this day to each other. Dazai did not look forward to tomorrow, and as much as he wanted to vent to you about Chūya’s very abundant annoying qualities, you’d both promised not to talk about it.

The news of your separation had made both of you realize your growing crushes for each other. You were no longer in denial, though you loathed the idea… but when you really thought about it, you didn’t loathe the idea. Musing to yourself about hugging him, playing with his hair… thinking about the fact that you did in fact like it made you gag.

As the night neared to an end, your guts told you to tell him. You wouldn’t see each other all that often anyway and if you were never to interact much, at least you would be getting this off your chest.

“Dazai.” You both stared out the window of the HQ, prior to you speaking up you were in an awkward silence. None of you wanted to say goodbye.

He turned to you and you to him. As much as you wanted to avoid eye contact, you thought it might help. “I like you… don’t joke with me.”

Dazai was going to make a joke. It was amazing how much you got to know him in so little time. He smiled, and your hopes raised when you took notice of how it wasn’t pitiful. “I like you too.”

You immediately let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Where’s the big sadistic lion?” Dazai questions, playfully mocking how meek you are right now. His smile seems more joyful than usual, as it should with what just happened.

You snicker, giving him the sadistic smile he’s used to. “I’m right here.”

Dazai was your anchor in the Port Mafia, even when he plead for double suicide with you. Before you were partnered up, you absolutely despised the place. The other executives and the occasional lackeys were fun to provoke but it was almost as if that was your coping mechanism. You often complained about how awful the Mafia was handled with the previous boss, but he would never change anything. He was an idiot up until his very death.

You thought Mori’s recent ‘crowning’ would change your opinion, but it didn’t change it at all. You still hated the place. It was almost as if their only objective was to keep their hands on Yokohama. You wanted more than that, you wanted the whole of Japan to be your turf.

Mori didn’t want that and while he would take the opportunity once presented, he wouldn’t do a thing otherwise. He was perfectly happy with that and you weren’t.

Dazai was the only reason you stayed, but now the reason had been diminishing. You barely spoke and barely hung out. This wasn’t what ‘dating’ was and both of you knew it.

He wanted to try harder and so did you, but with your current situation, you couldn’t. When he wasn’t with Chūya, you were out on a mission. No, you weren’t jealous. This wasn’t Chūya’s fault nor was it something either of you could control. There were various times you debated on breaking up.

Dazai was the only thing holding you back from leaving, so if you broke up you didn’t have to worry about him. But you liked him and both of you would be heartbroken. You never liked thinking about it, but someday, it had to be addressed. That day never came.

The final day you were with the Port Mafia was the day that you had a brush with death.

You’d called for backup, you’d received none. The henchmen you were commanding left like cowards. To think these were the people you’d trained.

One of your big weaknesses was fighting groups of people alone. These henchmen knew that and they’d run. Where were their morals? Where was their faith, their loyalty? Where was their honor, their pride? It was then that you’d learned the Port Mafia wasn’t your place. These people weren’t your people, this turf wasn’t your turf. They were cowards and you were no coward.

Alone and fighting recklessly, you were down. You refused to flee, and that stubbornness was what caused you to nearly die. Luckily, you never crossed death’s doorstep. The people you were fighting presumed you dead the moment you dropped to the ground.

They were fools but a fool you were too to let your emotions get the best of you.

That day somebody had found you on the brisk of death. They claimed to be a spy and they offered to get you help.

Of course, you accept without asking for conditions. You were dying, what else could you have said? The conditions turned out to be joining his organization and feeding them with information or something equally as important.

No longer would you be associated with the Port Mafia. You were glad to leave them. But your only consequence being leaving behind Dazai, the love of your life and the highlight of the day. It was a hard decision to make that was for sure, but it was either this or death.

You felt selfish.

Months after joining them, the so-called ‘Guild’, your heart ached. Leaving Dazai was your biggest mistake but joining the Guild was the best thing that had happened to you since him. For the longest time, you’d wanted to tell him. You never had the guts to. And then you left Japan to join the bigger part of the guild in North America.

In time you’d stopped thinking about Dazai.

The crew was polite, a contrast from the cold lackeys and executives from the Port Mafia. It’s a nice change, one you wish won’t ever change. But maybe the hope of a different life blinds you from how bad these people really are, their underlying motives and morals, their similarities to the Port Mafia executives.

The guild is ambitious, their leader most of all. They have a turf and the turf is way bigger than the Port Mafia’s, something you’re proud about. You certainly feel better about this place than the Port Mafia.

Your sadistic personality never changes either, and while the others are certainly annoyed by it, they handle it in a different way. They make sure you know that you can’t hurt them severely, or there’ll be repercussions. Maybe not repercussions from the Guild’s rules, but them hurting you back. It’s a nice change, one that gets your adrenaline pumping every time you pick a fight.

The only time you did think of him was in your nightmares, the middle of the night. Those nightmares consisted of him calling you a traitor, betrayer, but that wasn’t what hurt you. They played out scenarios of you telling Dazai.

He’d kiss you, hold you tight, ask you where you’d been, question the new stitches and scars… and then you’d tell him.

His face would be ridden with denial. “No. No you couldn’t have! You’re joking, you’re lying!” He laughs, tries to believe it’s a joke, but he can’t get it out of his head that it isn’t.

“It’s not.”

It’s then that he lets out a sob. He trembles, pushes you away from him, looks you in the eye with a look full of betrayal. It’s then that he calls you names, which stated before aren’t what hurts you. It’s how he looks and what he says next that hurts the most, “I thought you loved me.”

That’s when the nightmare ends. You wake up with tears of your own, they’re hot and sting on your cheeks. You furiously wipe them away, but more keep coming.

You sob loudly, which wakes up John and Lucy. They’re the only ones you’ve trusted with your secret, Dazai. They comfort you the best they can but the most they can do is tell you it’s going to be okay or something along those lines. As much as you try to believe them, you can’t.

Dazai becomes a mere figure of your past. You think of him as unreachable, unattainable, as something you should scold yourself for thinking about.

If you could’ve taken him with you, you would’ve.

Learning that you will go back to Japan because of the leader’s obsession with a ‘tiger’ almost breaks you like your ability would.

You hadn’t thought about Dazai nightmares in the past year, but now you remember him again. You begin to regret leaving him, your heart aches again and your nightmares act up again. Everything gets worse when you arrive in Japan.

War breaks out between 3 organizations but the only thing you can think of is the Port Mafia. It’d been 6 years. Could he still remember you?

You don’t care who wins, you just want this whole thing to be over with. It upsets your ‘teammates’, but you don’t care. Once again, you think about leaving the organization, maybe live a normal life. That sort of life feels far-fetched right now and you know it’s something you’ll never have the chance to achieve. But still, you hope for it.

But then you see him again.

The second your eyes land on him you want to run. His eyes land on you and they must look the same as yours.

It hurts, but you have to persevere. “Hey, Lovecraft?” You glance at the man with the strange ability and appearance. “You want to go sleep, right?” You let out a mocking yawn of your own, giving the two in front of you your signature sickly smile.

“Yes.” Lovecraft replies, voice monotone and deep as always.

“Go get John and leave, get to sleep faster.” You nod in the direction you’d seen Chūya knock John towards. Your eyes stayed on the two in front of you. They both act as if they’d never seen you before, which you’re glad for. You don’t know if you could’ve handled seeing the same look Dazai would give you in your nightmares.

“But Francis and... you.” You’d like to think you’d gotten close to Lovecraft, but really he treated everybody the same because of his ‘contract’ with Francis.

“I’ll be fine. I know these guys’ weaknesses, anyway.” He doesn’t question how you do nor does he protest further and leaves immediately. “Quite the reunion, huh?”

“(y/n)..” Chūya growls. He glares at you, something you’d never seen 6 years ago as his senior executive. He never dared to interact with you. He knew he’d be replacing you as Dazai’s partner and knew about your relationship together. If anything, it was out of pity, and that you hated.

“Chūya.” You reply. “How’s the family, the mafia, the kids?” You mock. Chūya all but seethes, he looks like he’s ready to strike.

“(y/n),” Once Lovecraft is gone, Dazai gives you the look you dreaded to see. “H-How--” He doesn’t know what to say and neither do you. Your smile fades, turns into a frown. You don’t want to fight him but you also don’t want him to take on Lovecraft. As much as you liked the guy, he was a nightmare incarnate.

“Dazai.” Is all that you say. The vague response hurts you both.

“Chūya you might want to do that here.”

Chūya looks back at Dazai, shocked and taken aback. “You want me to do that? Dazai, I don’t think that’s needed and you know how shit that makes me feel.” It’s clear he doesn’t want to give into his corruption.

“You shouldn’t underestimate him.” Dazai speaks with experience, and it hurts you to know that he knows that.

“Don’t hurt him too much, we’re dating.”

“You’re still dating?!”

“Technically we never broke up!”

You laugh, staring at the limp body next to you. Chūya is deep asleep, or knocked out, you don’t know. You never really saw the aftermath of his corruption.

“That was a nice fight.” You remark, loud enough for Dazai to hear despite how weak you feel. Chūya had basically broken both your legs and injured you, but at least he hadn’t killed you or put you into a coma. The pain was unbearable for most people, but it was a simple background thought for you.

“It’s been…” Dazai starts.

“6 years.” You finish for him.

“I missed you.” You’re glad to hear that instead of the words from your nightmares, but you’re sure those words will eventually come.

“I did too.”

“You did?”

You sigh, nodding. “There were plenty of errands I had to run around and do for Francis. That rich old guy didn’t do anything himself. I didn’t think much of you, but I never forgot you. I had my own fair share of nightmares about you, they’re all the same.”

Dazai moves you to lean against the bark of a tree. You look into each other’s eyes, and you can tell that his are pleading. “Please stay.”

You ignore his remark, weakly reaching over to feel his coat. “New coat?”

“Yes.” Dazai grumbles, sitting down next to you cross legged. “Answer me.” He pleads again.

“You don’t want to know why I left, first?” Dazai shakes his head, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, prompting a pained groan from you. He quickly apologizes for it.

“I don’t know if I can.” You sigh, rubbing the back of his hand. You were quite touch starved, seeing as you couldn't really hold or touch anything properly. “If Francis wins I’d have to stay with him. If either of you win, I’ll most likely end up in prison.”

“Join me.”

You think back to the Guild. They were inviting and you thought them to be good, but just then did you think about how bad they really were. You’d known all along but you always refused to believe it. You wanted to be there just to escape the Mafia, you never wanted to be there because it was the guild.

“What was it… the Armed Detective Agency?” He nods. “How would that stop me from going to prison?”

“I don’t know.” Dazai admits with a huff. “Just.. please stay.”

“Okay.” You smile at him. Dazai remembers that smile, it’s burned into his memory and he takes note of how it hasn’t changed a bit. He’s missed it ever since you left. “Would they accept me, though?”

“They will, they will.” He says it as if he were determined, but he knows there’s a high chance they’ll refuse.

Dazai pulls you into a much deserved kiss. Long, gentle, sweet, and full of fireworks, it’s almost like your first. The only thing is it’s a little weak on your end, but he can’t blame you.

“Not going to mention sucide?”

“I haven’t seen you in 6 years, at least let me cherish this for another 2 months.”

#anonymousrequest #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x male reader #dazai x reader #dazai x male reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x male reader #bsd x male reader #angst fic #bsd angst

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 3 years

Text

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 4)

[Donnie x fem reader]

sfw, chapt. 3, pt. 4 here

Sighing, you set your phone face-down after sending your last text to Bo. What an abrupt end to something that had been so good. You were confused, a little taken aback and honestly sad. You'd thought the two of you were getting along well. Bo was smart, well-spoken, funny, and all around, a really nice person. He listened to your venting and seemed like he had a response to everything. Always, he had some random fact to hit you with whether it was about biology, chemistry, astronomy, language—you weren't sure where he got all his knowledge from. He'd never mentioned school, if he went. He didn't mention a lot about himself, actually.

People come and go, someone had once told you. You guessed that he was one of those passersby, as much as you wanted it to be more.

More?

When had you started thinking that? More what?

You were tempted to pick your phone back up, to check and see if there were any new messages. Not that you could expect much; Bo had been so curt about his exit from your friendship that it was left at his last text, "Again, I'm sorry." You wanted to say something, but what was there to say? It was his decision. A sudden, uncharacteristic, and frankly odd decision, but still, his. Thinking back on it, you tried to remember any instance you might have crossed a line, or maybe said something you shouldn't have. That's what made you open up the messages again, scrolling up and up and looking for anything weird, but finding nothing of the sort. It had all been normal up until when you texted him about the clamor you'd heard outside your apartment building. And then it went flat—he didn't even respond to it, just said his apology and his goodbye before going offline.

You wanted to take your mind off it with a game, but as you looked through your list and saw the one you and him had played together, you knew it was near ruined for you. It just wasn't the same to play alone or with your acquaintances. An otherwise boring game made fun by one particular person, but now it was barely what it used to be.

Unfortunate.

The next morning might have felt more normal if it weren't for the fact that everyone was pretending like it was. For the sake of secrecy from their father. As far as Donnie knew, Splinter still didn't know anything was or had been going on, and he intended to keep it that way, too. He wanted to tell his father, he did, but all he saw coming of that was reprimanding, or at the very least an awkward discussion, and possibly, time in the Hashi. He was already feeling the aftermath of his actions; he didn't need any more. Especially as he checked the messaging app one last time, only to find it empty, aside from her goodbye.

Donnie stood at the kitchen counter, mask off and groggy as usual, scrounging for something to eat. Maybe a cup of coffee (if they had any), which he was looking for when Mikey bounced in. Normally, his brothers would avoid him when he was in one of his "moods". He hadn't a passionate temper like Raph but a slow-brewing one, the kind that festers until it's alleviated or boils over. Cold quiet was his thing.

But Donnie knew why he was here. So did Mikey. He had that familiar glint of mischief in his eye.

There was no coffee, so he settled for some kind of pastry they'd found while looking through the dumpsters. Really, the item was fine—only the packaging and appearance was defective. It was a wonder just how much food grocers wasted over arbitrary reasons, but regardless, he was happy to oblige his secret sweet tooth.

From the corner of his eye he could see Mikey waiting eagerly for him to turn around and regard him. To listen to whatever he was about to talk his ear off with. Their youngest brother was more often than not bright-eyed in the morning, something Donnie's morning fog could not always entertain. He picked at his food at the counter for a moment, mind wandering back to his night and subsequently, the unresolved feelings. Dreadfully unresolved, he groaned inside. And they probably would continue to be, as after sleeping on what had happened the previous night, thinking about her, he realized something that made his face flush. Oh, no.

He froze in his place, suddenly very awake. He looked over his shoulder and found Mikey was distracted rummaging through the food for his own breakfast, and with a faint cringe, tried to sneak out of the kitchen undetected. No way would he admit to Mikey's words on the rooftop that night, the ones that made him flinch with embarrassment. The same ones that bounced around his head despite all attempts to stuff it down. "You like her, bro."

Things involving him could never be simple, could they?

Abandoning his plate, Donnie began tip-toeing out of the room right behind Mikey. His foot hit the leg of a chair and caused a creak—he winced. As he thought, Mikey looked back, "Why are you sneaking around? You didn't finish your breakfast. Can't go on patrol on an empty stomach, dude."

Before Donnie could even answer, he continued in a whisper, "Plus—"

"Whatever it is, Mikey, not now," he cut his brother off, "last night was the end of it, alright? You need to let it go." It sounded harsher than he would have preferred, but he felt the need to drill it into Mikey's skull that it was over, that it was just something he'd have to deal with. There were a lot of things they dealt with despite not liking it. With time, he'd forget—more accurately, be able to ignore— and maybe he could find the same enjoyment in his brothers once again. That sort of friendship. But at the moment, it was ruined for him—he got a taste of something more and it was taken away what felt like second later.

Mikey's face fell. Donnie couldn't stand that, seeing him upset over something he'd said. He had a bit of a soft spot for their youngest, no doubt. Just wasn't always obvious.

"Aren't you afraid you'll regret it?" he asked, voice soft.

Fear was a strong word, but of course Donnie was anxious. It was the thing holding him back from being able to simply compartmentalize everything, to put it in a box and on the metaphorical "deal with this later because it's uncomfortable right now" shelf. Or to deal with it at all, as ignoring his problems with studying and unrelated research and experimentation wasn't exactly prime management. He knew that.

After a while of thought, Donnie was able to give him an answer. "Well…I mean, how could I not be?" he inquired in return before leaning out of the doorway to scan the lair. Everyone was either in their room, the dojo, or there, in the kitchen. Mikey has always made him feel most comfortable, and he was sure that was the case for the other three, just that they had other ways of showing it. He was certainly easy to talk to; if Donnie weren't so careful of his mouth and what came out of it, he could probably spew way more to him than he liked. Mikey could come through sometimes, though, which prompted him to keep going, "It was a big thing for me. We've been disconnected from everything else for so long that it was just...exciting, to get a look into what it's like. Being 'regular', you know?"

Mikey sat down on one of the bar stools, feet idly shuffling against the floor as he folded his arms and rested on them. "You didn't hear it from me, but I'm a little jealous," he said playfully, but Donnie was aware that it was the case. "Maybe I'm pushing you to go after her because I'm trying to live vic–vicrous–v–…"

Donnie smiled, he couldn't help it. "'Vicariously'?" he suggested.

"Yeah! That," Mikey beamed, nodding. "You get what I mean."

"I understand."

The conversation died off soon after as Donnie decided to get breakfast over with and do whatever needed to be done before they left for patrol that night, darkness falling earlier due to the upcoming winter. It wasn't too cold for them to be out yet, though, so that still meant a chilly patrol in the Autumn breeze. He hated the cold.

As Donnie was making himself busy at a circuit board in his lab, he heard the beads in the doorway shift, and to his surprise, Splinter came shuffling in.

"Sensei?"

He put down his soldering iron, spinning around in his chair. "Something the matter?"

Splinter ran his fingers along a shelf on the wall as he wandered by, careful to not disturb any of the items lining it. Beakers, recently-repaired electronic parts, projects put on pause, things that would loathe to be broken.

"There is always something," Splinter replied enigmatically, "I would not be here if that weren't true. Would you agree?"

I'm compromised!

Donnie had a strong but hidden dislike for vague speaking, even if he did it himself sometimes. When spoken to you it's much more bothersome.

Splinter waited for his answer, looking at him expectantly. "Donatello?"

"Yeah, um…yes, I would—I would agree. I suppose. So...what is it again?" Damn his stutter, he couldn't get away with anything, hardly. He was only able to stifle it just enough.

Picking a random pipette on the desk next to Donnie, Splinter studied the green liquid close for a second before his nose twitched, and he put it back down. "You have been very busy lately, it seems. What is it that you work on all day in here? Or are you playing games?"

Donnie's heart thumped. His hand found that particular spot on his neck and began to scratch, and Splinter looked at him dead in the eye. He should have known; there was no hiding anything from their father, he was too good. Stupidly, infuriatingly perceptive. Donnie caught himself scratching that spot and slid his hand away, he hadn't even noticed he was picking at it again. He knows, Mikey told him, I probably look like a guilty idiot right now, I'm—

"I haven't been playing games," Donnie blurted out.

Quizzically, Splinter gestured at the computer screen on the other wall, which had the menu of the game he'd opened up just earlier. Reminiscing over it even though it had been only a couple of days since he and his friend had last played together, but he stared at the screen as if it had been years. It made him realize how easily he'd gotten attached to that. Well, to her. He was on the fence about whether he wanted to try playing again or not and left it on.

Oh, you have to be kidding. I'm a fool in a man's shoes.

Donnie laughed uncomfortably, "You caught me, Sensei," he said, "I guess I have been playing games more often lately."

It was honest enough, right?

Splinter hummed and cupped his hands behind his back. "I see."

Straightening out, Donnie dipped his head a little. "I'll...lay off on them. Sorry for lying. I've just been really distracted recently."

"Liars never prosper, my son. Take care of yourself."

He then left.

So he didn't know. Donnie still couldn't say it with any degree of confidence, because Splinter would trip them up here and there, but it was assurance enough to know that if Splinter was aware of what had gone on between the four brothers and his new—rather, former—human friend, he would have confronted Donnie about it. Or all of them, considering it was now a secret they were all in on actively hiding. And on top of that, Raph and Leo didn't know Mikey was conspiring. Layers and layers, he sighed.

With Splinter gone, he let out a breath of relief. Too close. Much. But, swiftly evaded. A chuckle left him, not of humor, but more because he was actually feeling a little confident. Just a little. They were really hiding something from Splinter; it was reason enough to pat himself on the back, nothing got past Splinter. Except for him.

Briefly, he thought of Mikey's outlandish idea as he spun back around in his chair. "Mikey, you are crazy," he mumbled to himself as he took his soldering iron, resuming his work from before. "But..."

Chapter 5

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hansoulo · 4 years

Text

cold when you hold me (warm when I cry)

pairing: din djarin/reader (gender neutral, no y/n, could be platonic)

warnings: cursing? mild angst, crying, hurt/comfort oh ye boiiii

word count: like a cute 1.5k

a/n: may i offer you some catharsis in these trying times?

Today... today just… sucked. Like, really really sucked. What was that law? Anything that could go wrong, will go wrong?

Maker, it wasn’t even anything that bad, y’know? It was just.. Frustrating. The kid was frustrating. Mando was frustrating. Everything was just…

Fuck.

You’d been in a fit the entire day, hating how shrill your voice sounded when you became short with the both of them. You didn’t mean to. You didn’t want to. It’s just that everything managed to become incredibly too much for seemingly no reason at all, enough so that just the sound of the Crest’s controls was enough to bring you near tears.

One of the subjects of your ire spoke up.

“Are you- alright?” his words were stilted, halting and unsure but edged with soft concern. You let out a laugh, the sound watery.

“Yeah, yeah I’m-” you swiped your knuckles across your eyelids, tracing the sunburst dust that follows the pressing on your vision before the shine of his armour came back into view. “I’m good,” you finished with a small sniff and a bobbing nod, trying to convince yourself more than him.

A few seconds passed in silence. You wiped at your eyes again. Tasted one roll of dripping salt. And turned away.

The Mandalorian’s hands curled around the ship controls. He was still, ever-stoic save for one slight turn of his head. “Do you want to… talk about it?” he asked when you only breathed, the sound rattling a wheezed hollowness in your chest and against the cockpit walls.

You smiled - or tried to - and shook your head gently, feeling the pool of crackling tears before you willed them back down. “No, it’s okay,” you answered after a moment, quiet. “Thanks, though.”

The hem of your shirtsleeve caught in your nails when you fiddled with it, drawing out a loose thread and watching as it piled around the skin of your wrist. It was white. The thread, that is. Which was sort of strange because the fabric was black, so it really didn’t lend itself to blending into the rest of the- oh, shit you were crying again.

“I’m gonna go, uhm-” you swallowed, ducking your head with a cough as you stood up from the copilot seat. “Check on the kid. Maybe nap.” You offered up a vague wave up towards your head in half-hearted explanation. “Headache.”

The Mandalorian nodded. “The Mandalorian” felt… impersonal, though. Mando, you called him sometimes. Nerf-herding hunk of fucking metal, other times. None suited him very well, you thought before you turned to go, the goosebumps rising on your arms from the chill of the air vent above your head. You knew better than to ask for his name, though. Maybe one day, you could call him something else.

The ship’s filtered air washed over you in waves, trickling down your neck and through your sleeves like recycled water, soothing some of the raw sting still settling in the base of your stomach. One breath. Two breaths. In. Out.

No tears. No fuss.

No one to witness when you do.

You shook yourself out of your shallow stupor when you heard a voice, deep and rasped in modulated timbre. “Sorry,” you said, your hand curled around the edges of the entrance. “What was that?”

“I said ‘try to sleep,” he repeated.

Oh.

That was… not what you thought he’d say.

In all fairness you didn’t really expect him to say anything, but that was… considerate. Sweet, even. Maybe.

“Thanks,” you whispered, fighting down the thick notch in your throat. “I- I will.”

-------

You coudn’t fucking cry in peace.

You only heard a slight shift, one barely audible step, before the glint of beskar took up your entire field of view, looming dark and sudden above your seated figure.

“What happened?”

“Fucking- oh, for Maker’s sake,” you cursed under your breathe, burying your face in your hands with a hiccup. “Don’t- don’t sneak up on me like that, okay? Almost gave me a heart attack.”

“You look close to it anyways,” he responded.

You glared at him through the spaces between your fingers, mumbling dryly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Groaning, you let your hands fall beside your legs until they dragged limp over the threadbare covers. “Why are you here?”

The Mandalorian took another step forward. “It’s my ship, isn’t it?”

“You know what I mean,” you rolled your eyes, drawing your knees up to your chest. The stiff rod of the bedframe dug into your heels when you shifted, scooting sideways with a pat of your hand to the space next to you. His shoulders stiffened and you managed a soft smile. “It’s your bed,” you parroted. “Isn’t it?”

He conceded, tilting his helmet as if to say I guess, and your knees jostled against metal when he sat down, apologizing. You tucked your legs underneath you. Told him it was fine.

It’s hard to tell what time of day it is. In space, everything looks the same. Cold and sterile, a vacuum of glittering crystalline set against empty, empty air. You’d been traveling in hyperspace for hours. Still had hours left to go. A long ways for a good bounty, you supposed. Wasn’t really your area of expertise.

“You can tell me,” he offered quietly, careful not to press close. Professional, huh. What was this, then? Emotional insurance? Preemptive therapy so he wouldn’t have to go find someone else to drag across the galaxy? “If you want to.”

“Tell you what?”

Maker, you were a horrible liar. As if he couldn’t see your puffy eyes and your nose rubbed raw with his stupid, fancy high-tech heat vision sensor-thingies.

The Mandalorian didn’t say anything. If you could see it, you think he’d be raising his eyebrows. “There’s nothing to tell, honestly,” you said after a moment, leaning to rest your chin on your knees and looping your arms around your calves. You stared ahead at the far wall, following the dingy metal plating. “I just… had a bad day.”

“A bad day,” the man beside you said, his arms braced on his legs as he sat.

“Yeah,” you sighed, tucking your chin and letting your eyes shut. “A bad day.”

“I know the kid-” he began, “ I know I can be… difficult. And I’m sorry-”

You shook your head, turning to look at the sharp metal of his visor. It was always so strange, hearing him disembodied. Only to face its source and find a mask.

His voice sounded human.

He wasn’t wearing gloves.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him. His armour reflected hazy glints of gaseous blue light and you followed them with red-rimmed eyes, your gaze curious; his, unyielding. A stare-down. Stare...off? There really wasn’t any way you could know he was even paying attention. He could be sleeping right now, for all you knew.

He wasn’t, though. He was looking at you.

“It’s not your fault,” you said again, more to yourself. “It just gets too much sometimes. Y’know,” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings. “Everything. Anything. Stuff.”

The Mandalorian let out something that could possibly, maybe, in some ways, be interpreted as a laugh. “Stuff, right?”

You squinted, watching him through the sideways vision of your tilted head, and faked offense. “Are you mocking my pain?”

He let out another raspy chuckle, the sound reverberating in your ears and melting in the tips of your fingers. “No,” he said.

“Good,” you replied.

His posture loosened, more slack beside you. A little closer. “You know, you don’t have to.”

“Have to what?” you asked, your question genuine this time.

The edge of your thigh knocked against his cuisse when he spoke again. “Pretend like you’re okay.”

Well, shit.

“I don’t like it,” you admitted as you twisted your sleeves in your palms, wringing the trailing hems until they grew damp. “I don’t like-” you exhaled shakily. “-crying, in front of people.”

Hands that didn’t belong to you, tan and wide and ever-so-careful, reached up to pry the fabric from between your fingers. Then, they pushed the sleeves up, to the slope of your elbows. Then, they traced the skin of your forearms and down your wrists. And then, they stayed there. Pressing two soft thumb circles into your tremoring palms; waiting.

Your vision burned blurry as your chest tightened. “Your hands are warm,” you whispered.

The Mandalorian raised one to the curve of your cheek, over the leaking rivulet trails you hadn’t realized were falling. “Yours are cold,” he replied.

You swallowed, feeling the light callouses. Turned in. “Can you stay?” you asked. His visor revealed little, but if you let yourself slip into a half-state you could almost imagine the color of his eyes. Something dark, to match his voice. Something warm, to match his hands. “Just for a bit?”

He nodded and so you let your eyes fall closed again, your thoughts slow in that tired, aching way that prying something open makes you feel.

When you moved to rest your head on his pauldron, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders.

#*slaps roof of fanfic* this bad boy can fit so much self-projection #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian oneshot #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin oneshot #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian fic

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batboyimagines · 3 years

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Cold-blooded part two [Damian Wayne x Male Reader]

You will want to read the first part of this! And another note, I feel it’s important to say I haven’t actually seen the movie this is loosely based off of? I only know it’s vague plot. So heads up, this will definitely be deviating from that plot!

“So first things first, I’m gonna need supplies for this.” Your dad says.

You, Dad, Robin, and the rest of the Teen Titans have regrouped in the living room. After much planning and replanning, there’s finally a plan.

“I’m going to have to swing by an old flame’s to get some extra muscle for this ritual we’re setting up. It’s not made for a single person to do.”

“My ma?” You ask. Dad makes a constipated look.

“No,” He says, “her name is Zatanna. She’s helped the Justice League before and I’m sure she’d be willing to help them now.”

“Oh, okay.” You say sinking back into the couch, arms crossed. Though you know they’re in danger, you still feel a bit weird about helping them out. It’s a bit ridiculous, only Wonder Woman and Aquaman really have ties to the gods. And Aquaman’s not in any danger, so you don’t have to worry about him.

But you know your Ma, and you know how bitter she is over what they did to her. Which is totally fair. It’s just that you’re not sure how she’d feel about you saving one of the god’s pet projects.

“... and that’s that. So, when do we need to leave?” Your dad finishes. Oh shoot, you spaced.

“It would be best if we went right now.” Nightwing replies. He pushes off the wall and his team follows suit, readying to depart. Your dad turns to you.

“Listen, bud, do you think you’ll be fine holding down the fort while I’m gone?” He asks. You hesitate.

“Uh, actually, I was wonder if... I dunno, I could come along?” Your dad reels a bit.

“Kiddo, this isn’t a safe ‘Bring your kid to work’ deal, this is dangerous. You could get hurt.”

“I know, but I feel weird hanging out here while you’re not around. And I’m a bit worried that some rando could come to the door and I won’t know what to do. Also I’m an all magic half snake being with unknown powers sooo.”

Your dad thins his lips, looking thoughtful.

“Really, Dad, I’ll be fine. I’ll stick out of the action and whatnot and if I think I’m in any danger I’ll run as far as possible.” You plead. “I’ll have my phone with me? I know how to call now.”

“... alright. But you stay out of trouble.” He relents. You push to your feet with a grin and go to get your coat.

Under your breath, you hiss, “Hell yesss.”

The great thing about living with a magic user is that they have the best modes of transport. In your somewhat short life, you yourself haven’t traveled very much. When your mother is exiled and has no way of getting off her small prison of an island, you tend to not go anywhere.

Being passed between your Ma and your Pa is a pretty recent development. This is the most traveling you’ve done in your entire life, and the option to go to different places is still a marvel to you. Really, the average person can just walk down a street, hop on a train, and go to an entirely new place, no fuss? What a concept.

An exciting, and sort of terrifying, concept.

“I’ve got a short cut to hers down in that alley,” Your father explains, leading you and the Titans through the empty streets, “though I try not to use it much.”

“Why not?” You ask from his side, shivering a little and shrinking into your coat. Though you’re thankful that early mornings mean that only the occasional jogger is awake, they are unfortunately very cold. And you are part snake. With cold blood.

“We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

“Are you sure she’ll help us?” Koriander asks.

“Oh she will, she’s not my biggest fan, but she wouldn’t leave you lot to the wolves just because she doesn’t like me.” He finally comes to a stop in front of the alley. You, more focused on not letting your teeth chatter, bump into his back.

“This is it right?” You say, muffled into the collar of your coat. Man, you wish you brought a scarf.

“Sure is.”

The alley is a dead end, entirely ordinary and bland. There’s not even a dumpster shoved against one of its grimy brick walls.

But your father walks in, as if it leads somewhere, and you and the Titans follow. As you approach the bricked end, you expect your father to do, well, something to open the wall or whatever. But no, he just walks straight through the bricks.

You blink a bit. Since you’ve come to the modern world, you’ve been getting into video games. Shitty, old video games that your Pa bought from a thrift shop in panic before you had arrived for the first time. And your father walking through the bricks sort of reminds you of when you clip through walls.

Even so, you don’t want to be left behind. So even though that looked really weird, you walk through too.

The other side is much darker, and much, much grimier. And the air is stuffier. Your eyes water and you hack a bit.

“You alright there bud?” Your Pa asks in concern, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“The air here sucks!” You wheeze, blinking tears from your sensitive eyes.

“I agree.” Robin grumbles from your side. Looks like the Titans made it through fine as well. Your father raises an eyebrow.

“This is your city, isn’t it?” He asks. His city?

“Just because I protect this wretched place, does not mean I enjoy breathing it’s polluted air.” Robin gripes. Nightwing makes an amused face at that.

“Whatever,” Pa shrugs, “Zatanna’s down this way.”

Down that way, a quaint, hole in the wall magic shop glows. Back home with Ma, your light sources are either the sun, fire, or a magical doodad that somehow wound up in your possession. So no matter how many times you see light bulbs or neon lights, you don’t think the marvel will ever wear off.

The door rings a cheery jingle as your Pa pushes it open and you hit a wall of hot air when you enter. You revel in its heat. Living with cold blood is such a drag. Sometimes you miss the warm beaches of your mothers prison, though the nights leave warmth to be desired.

After soaking in the warm air, you take a moment to survey the inside. It’s... a bit cluttered. And dusty. For some reason, magical items are always old and it seems like old things are always a little dirty.

You brush a finger on one of the wooden tables displaying merchandise, yep, that’s some dusty stuff alright. You stick your tongue out. It smells dusty too. And like books and perfume. Flowery perfume. You hate flowery perfume. You tuck your tongue back in your mouth and grimace.

It’s one of the worse human inventions. One time Dad came home from what you gathered was some sort of fling, stinking like someone’s nasty perfume. Though you sort of feel guilty for it now, you couldn’t stick around in his presence for more than two minutes.

“Zatanna! You in?” Your father calls out into the maze of tall shelves. If you’re not imagining it, he’s making his voice just that bit more obnoxious.

Robin looks at you and catches your eye. He makes a face at your father’s behavior that has you stifling a snort.

“Zataaaaannaaaaaaa, aaaare yoooou heeeeereeee?”

Wow, he’s laying the annoying on thick.

“Zataaaaaa-“

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m here!” A dark haired woman gripes as she appears through the shelves.

“Zatanna! My good friend,” your father grins, “how’ve you been?”

“Great, until you waltzed back into my life.” She says flatly.

“Good, good, anyways,” you zone out at your father says things.

You’re distracted by the displays of magical items that you’re not totally sure are real. There’s not doubt in your mind that this Zatanna lady is a magic user, she totally is, but would she actually sell magic items? That stuff is no joke, your Ma’s told you plenty of horror stories about magic gone wrong. And you fell asleep in the middle of half of those!

“See something you like?” Oh shoot, she’s talking to you.

“Uhhh,” fuck, how do you respond? Well, there’s nothing catching your eye you guess, “uhm.. no?”

“It’s just that you seem so interested in the display,” she says amusedly gesturing towards the general space you just staring at.

“Well, I was just wondering if any of this stuff is real, cause, magic stuffs... dangerous usually.”

“I have real items, but I keep those in the back. This stuff is for the common folk.”

“Oh cool.”

“So,” Zatanna turns back to the others. You take that as a sign to go back to spacing out.

Heaters are awesome. They’re the best invention of the modern world, in your humble opinion. All the hot air is coming from a vent in the wall next to you. You scooch in front of it. Hot airrr, hell yeahhh. This rocks. You could stand right here for hours.

“C’mon kiddo, we’re off.”

GOD. DAMN IT.

Dejectedly, you trudge to the open door, where your Pa awaits. Ugh, that chilly breeze is not welcoming.

#Batman #X Reader #X Male Reader #Damian Wayne X Reader #Damian Wayne X Male Reader

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 17

First

Carapace frowned as he patrolled with someone at his side.

It was weird to go on patrols with someone else, if he was being honest. It wasn’t unheard of or anything, Chloe and Rena were both perfectly happy to go on patrols with others, but it wasn’t something that Carapace found himself doing unless Master Fu made him.

That wasn’t what had happened, though. Ladybug had missed her patrols for the previous night because Chloe had turned off all her alarms and neither of them had any nights off until the next week…

So they were going out together.

It was kind of awkward, if he was being honest. He didn’t know how to talk to her, not really. He’d already been kind of unsure what to talk about when he had known her persona because they were so different… but now that he knew that that wasn’t her actual personality, somehow, it was even harder to talk to her.

He glanced at Ladybug out of the corner of his eyes as they hopped from roof to roof.

This was a mistake, he ended up missing his footing and it was only thanks to his plates that he didn’t fall four stories.

(He still fell an entire story before he caught himself and his plates weren’t exactly soft, but it was still better than splattering on the pavement.)

Ladybug hovered over him with a slight smile threatening to make its way onto her face.

“You alright?” She asked, offering him a hand up.

The green glow of his plates made her look like a ghost in the nighttime darkness, and the flying didn’t help, but he forced himself to ignore this as he took her hand.

She carried him up to the roof. He could have technically made the jump, but if she was offering the help he wouldn’t say no. Besides, everything still kind of hurt.

“I think I’m dying,” he joked, getting rid of the floating plates with a vague wave of his hand.

The smile widened slightly and he couldn’t tell for sure but he was pretty sure she rolled her eyes. “Mhmm. Seriously, though, do you need a minute?”

He flexed his shoulders and decided that, yes, maybe he should give himself a few seconds to rest. They sat down together on the edge of the rooftop, their legs dangling over the side. After a whispered ‘Lucky Charm’, he was handed a water bottle.

He looked down at the water bottle in his hand and raised his eyebrows at the spotted red and black water.

“Is this safe to drink?”

“Yeah, it’ll just feel a little funny in your throat,” she said.

He gave her an incredulous look and she clicked her tongue, taking the water bottle from his hand and taking a mouthful of water.

He watched to make sure she swallowed and then drank it as well… and, wow, the words ‘feel a little funny’ were a fucking understatement. He may as well have been drinking glue for how it seemed determined to stick to the lining of his throat.

But, hey, it was technically still water. It tasted like nothing, at least. He managed to get it down.

He sent her a grimace and she brought up a hand to try and stifle her giggles.

“What? Have I been poisoned?” He asked, anxiety and whatever the hell he just drank gnawing at his stomach.

“N-no.” She cleared her throat and forced herself to relax. “It’s just… sorry. I forgot how bad the first time is.”

“How often do you eat and drink your lucky charms?” He asked, a little horrified. He could understand trying to drink it one time out of curiosity, but continuously doing that was just… insane.

“When I want to,” she said nonchalantly. “You get used to the consistency. Everything tastes like the food I ask for, so I can get any food I want for free.”

He swirled the remains of the ‘water’ in the bottle with interest. “Is there anything you can’t make?”

“It looks like I can only make things I… can conceptualize, if that makes sense? Like… I can’t make sci-fi stuff or a living thing because they’re complicated, but I can make a car and stuff like that.”

He stared at her. “You’ve made a car?”

“I had to see if I could!” She said defensively, her face doing it’s best to match the red of her mask (and succeeding).

He was about to make her prove it, because he couldn’t imagine a car coming out of her yoyo, but there was a flash of bright light in the distance.

Their slight smiles dropped at the sight of it and they scrambled to their feet, wordlessly taking off in the direction of the explosion.

They watched the right wing of the Agreste mansion erupt with almost white light before it was blown to smithereens. He made a wall of plates in front of them to block them from the debris.

“... sucks to be him,” said Ladybug.

Well, that wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting from Ladybug of all people. Sure, Rena had warned them that Ladybug was going to start showing her actual personality, but it was just so… different than he was used to her being.

Still, he couldn’t help but agree. He may not know why exactly she didn’t like Gabriel Agreste, but he had his reasons. On top of being a terrible employer to Marinette, which was already a giant red flag, Carapace had also met Adrien Agreste. After Paris’s resident sunshine child had been akumatized he’d vented to Carapace about his father (and it seemed like Adrien was even holding some stuff back) and, well, let’s just say Carapace thought that Gabriel deserved way worse for what he did to him --.

“Wait, fuck, Adrien. We should probably help him,” said Carapace.

Ladybug didn’t move. “No, he’s fine. He’s in Tibet at some rich kid private school.”

“Oh. Good for him.”

They watched another room explode in silence. It wasn’t a problem, really. It seemed that whoever was akumatized (the assistant or bodyguard, he assumed) was only really concerned with destroying the mansion. They could just leave, really, it would be a shame if no one got there on time…

He sighed. “We’re going to have to do the right thing, huh?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Yeah…”

He dropped his plates and they made their way inside carefully. The house was eerily silent for a place that had just been exploding every few seconds, and he wasn’t sure if the prickling feeling on his skin was the dust in the air attempting to settle or if they were being watched.

They came upon the akuma and both of them relaxed instantly. It was just Gabriel.

Well, Carapace didn’t think Gabriel really had any right to be angry about anything, but at least he’d be taken down quickly.

“Who’s going to be bait?” Asked Ladybug.

“… I can probably take a few more hits,” admitted Carapace, however reluctantly.

She considered this before shaking her head. “I’m feeling lucky.”

Should he argue this point? Yes. Was he going to? No. He wasn’t fond of the idea of getting blown up, thanks.

The fight was over in less than five minutes. Carapace had snuck up behind not-Gabriel (he was pretty sure that he called himself Homme D’Affeure or something like that?) while he was distracted attempting to blow up a flying Ladybug and hit him as hard as he could with a plate.

Carapace grabbed the horrid candy cane tie off of him and tore it apart. Yep, there was the akuma. Why was Gabriel’s akuma always in his tie? Who knew.

Whatever. He tossed the plate like a frisbee at the akuma and smiled when it was crushed against the nearby wall. This smile lessened when the Agreste mansion rapidly started rebuilding itself. What a shame.

Ladybug landed next to him, a little winded but otherwise fine.

(The pair of them watched Gabriel Agreste scramble for his tie. Carapace looked at the pin on his suit and wondered for the millionth time why it was hidden. It was probably the nicest looking part of his outfit (not that that was saying much, his friend could have a field day talking about just what was so bad about his outfit -- and had, on many occasions). He guessed it didn’t go with the red and white theme he had going on, but then why wear it? Sentiment?)

Now for the only bad part of deakumatizing Gabriel: listening to his rich person problems.

Carapace and Ladybug started debating about who should listen to them. Damn their personas, making it so they had to be the ‘noble’ and ‘nice’ ones of the group. This conversation would never end.

Gabriel must have figured this out, too, because -- after ten whole minutes of them arguing -- he’d said that he was fine and that he was just missing his son.

Carapace nearly punched him.

His fingers dug into the skin of his palm as he fought to keep his expression in a friendly smile. “If you say so, sir,” he said.

Ladybug gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

They ran out and didn’t stop running until the building was just a white and gray speck in the distance.

She face planted on a rooftop, which could not have been a fun experience, and didn’t move. He came to a stop when he noticed she wasn’t getting back up and walked over. He prodded her limp body with his foot. He was tired, too, but he wasn’t ‘collapse on concrete’ tired.

“You need to do more cardio.”

There was a beat before she raised a hand and made a rude hand gesture.

He raised his eyebrow, a grin fighting its way onto his face. Huh. He thought he liked Ladybug’s actual personality way more than her persona.

He took a seat beside her and crossed his legs, waiting for her to catch her breath. They didn’t need to continue patrols for the day because an akuma had been summoned and he wasn’t in a huge rush to get home.

There was a beat before she pushed herself up to a sitting position and summoned a new water bottle. She downed half of it in one go and then offered him the rest. He only hesitated slightly before taking it. If he got used to the consistency like she had he’d be able to eat anything he wanted as long as Ladybug was around, and there was no way he was going to miss out on that kind of opportunity.

For a while there was no sound other than their heavy breathing, their water bottles, and her occasional mumbles to summon more drinks.

She was the one to speak first: “So, you hate Gabriel Agreste, too?”

He looked at her over the rim of what must have been his millionth water bottle and he couldn’t help the smile making its way across his face as he set the drink down. “Of course. He’s Gabriel Agreste, is there anyone who actually likes him?”

“His assistant, apparently,” said Ladybug, her nose scrunching a tiny bit.

“No way! Really?”

She shrugged. “I don’t get it. He’s got nothing going for him but his money, and even then I hear his business is starting to fail.”

“Think that’s why he actually got akumatized?”

She pointed a finger at him. “You might be onto something.”

He snickered. “I wonder if Hawkmoth is tired of him, too. I mean, he gets akumatized, what, once a month? And he’s always beaten really easily. Why does he even bother with him anymore?”

“Right? You think he sends out his akumas and sees it’s Mr. Pigeon and he goes ‘aw, not THIS guy again’?”

“Nonono. See, Mr. Pigeon at least means that Chat Noir can’t show up to help so we’re at a disadvantage. Mr. Pigeon makes sense. But Gabriel Agreste? Not at all.”

She considered this and then smiled. “Maybe it’s because they’re both rich assholes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know Hawkmoth is rich?”

“There’s no way he’s any lower than upper middle class. He just has this vibe, y’know?”

He had to give it to her. She wasn’t wrong.

She summoned him a bag of what he assumed were chips and he opened them, inspecting them for a moment… ah, yes, chip-shaped. He didn’t know why he was expecting to be able to figure out what type they were. He bit into one and smiled. She knew his favorite chip flavor? It still had that weird texture, but it tasted good and it was free, so he was happy to eat.

She summoned herself a plate of cookies and nibbled at a few.

They detransformed and continued to eat the summoned foods in silence. It was nice, though.

He was the one to push himself to his feet first.

“We need to get back. Something bad had to have happened while we were gone.”

She looked at his outstretched hand for a minute before semi-reluctantly taking it. He pulled her to her feet.

“I hate being impulse control. When do WE get to do dumb things?”

“It’s our duty to be the sane ones, Ladybug.”

“Don’t use my persona against me,” she said, giving his shoulder a tiny shove.

He smiled. “We’d all be dead by now if we didn’t parent those idiots.”

“Yeah.” She winked at him. “I think I’m the family dad, though.”

“No way, the kids aren’t scared enough of me for me to be the mom.”

“They won’t be scared of me for long,” said Ladybug.

Based on what he’d seen of the real Ladybug so far? “Yeah…”

There was a beat as this registered and then horror dawned across their faces.

“... our kids are going to walk all over us, aren’t they?”

“We’ll be dead within the year,” she whispered.

“We need a mom!”

They considered for a moment. Whatever person they recruited to be the mom, there was no doubt in either of their minds that Chat was going to be one of the kids of this metaphorical family. Out of Rena and Chloe...

“Maybe we can get Chloe to be the mom?”

He pointed a finger at her. “You might be onto something.”

It was… suspiciously calm when they got home.

They looked at the three people in the living room. Chloe and Chat were playing a video game (Chat was pulling the team). Rena was watching with a gleam in her eyes as she attempted to pit them against each other.

Carapace and Ladybug gave each other wary looks. Something had happened...

Ladybug clicked her tongue. She grabbed a blanket and took a seat by Chloe, wrapping it around them and starting to teach her to play.

She had the right idea, he decided. He dropped down by Chat to watch.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write

#is there a reason that carapace is having the easiest time making friends?#maybe :)#a miraculous tiktok account #carapace #nino lahiffe #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #adrien agreste #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #rena rouge #alya cesaire #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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retrievablememories · 4 years

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a day with you | taeyong (m)

title: a day with you pairing: taeyong x reader genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers summary: you spend your birthday with one of your closest friends—lee taeyong. word count: 4.7k warnings: fingering, oral sex (female receiving), PIV sex, a lil dirty talk a/n: i know he can’t drive(?) but let’s pretend lol. some parts of this fic are little vague and you’ll see what i mean but that’s so you can imagine your own preferences

Taeyong wakes up first thing in the morning with you already on his mind.

He can’t help but smile to himself as he thinks about spending time with you on a day as special as this—your birthday. He doesn’t always get to spend as much time with you as he’d like because of his neverendingly busy schedule, but this is one day he wouldn’t miss.

Wiping his blurry eyes, he reaches for his phone and opens the text message box with your name on it.

To: Y/N Hi sleepyhead~ are you awake yet? Probably not. But i’m coming to get you soon ^^

Taeyong takes a shower and dresses himself, all while still thinking of you. Once he’s ready to his liking, he leaves the dorm to drive to your favorite breakfast place nearby. The sun is just making its appearance over the horizon, warming the land and making everything seem brand new again.

When Taeyong arrives at your place with food in hand, it’s still fairly early in the morning. As he predicted, you aren’t awake yet—at least not fully. It takes you a minute to answer the door, and only after he knocks incessantly. When you do, you’re still in your pajamas from last night.

“I’m guessing you didn’t see my message?” He laughs and pats your head.

“Honestly, I was knocked out…sorry, Yongie,” you say, stifling a yawn. You move aside so he can come in and close the door after him. Suddenly awakened by the smell of food wafting past your nose, you follow Taeyong into the kitchen. “But I see you have food...what’d you bring me?”

“Only your favorite, of course. What else would I get the birthday girl on her special day?”

“You know me so well,” you say, giving Taeyong a side hug before diving into the bag to get your meal. You and Taeyong eat together at the table, enjoying each other’s company. You’re still a bit sleepy so you don’t say much, but Taeyong doesn’t mind. He likes seeing you enjoying your food, and it makes him happy to treat you to gestures like this.

Once you finish eating, you slide out of your seat and stretch. “Wow, that was great. Thank you Yongie,” you giggle, pinching his cheek. He blushes at your attention and shrugs bashfully.

“I’m gonna go take a shower and get dressed now. Can you tell me where we’re going so I know how to dress at least? A hint? Pleaseee?”

“Not yet! You’ll see when we get there,” Taeyong says smugly, putting his arms behind his head. “It’s not just one place anyway, so it doesn’t really matter what you wear.”

“Oh, fine. You won’t be too bored without me, right?” you ask, turning to look at him from the bedroom doorway.

“I’m fine Y/N, I can handle myself for an hour while you get ready.” He chuckles.

“If you insist!”

Once you’re ready, you and Taeyong go out to his car and take off to wherever the first destination is, which you’re excited to find out. You watch the scenery go by as you travel there.

“I hope work’s been treating you well,” you say, turning back to look at Taeyong.

“You don’t have to worry about me today,” he insists.

“I’m always gonna worry about you!” You put your hand on his leg, and his eyes widen a tad at that. “I know it’s hard sometimes. You said you wanted to make me happy—knowing you’re doing okay is what makes me happy.”

A grin spreads across his face. Taeyong glances at you and places his hand on yours. “I’m doing fine. Promise.” He nudges his pinky finger under yours, linking them together. “I wouldn’t lie to you!”

You squeeze his pinky finger back. “I’m trusting you. If I hear you’re overworking yourself again, I’m gonna force you to take a vacation. Just watch!”

You start to realize where you’re headed pretty soon when the city’s scenery gives way to more greenery. This lake, and the park it’s located in, is one of your favorite places to hang out with Taeyong, although you haven’t been there lately because he’s been so busy with work.

“Remember the first time we came here?” you ask, gazing at the lake’s surface glittering from between the trees.

“That was such a fun day. I didn’t even know this place existed back then...it feels like a hundred years ago now, though.”

Once the car is in the parking lot, you two head to the boardwalk. A good portion of it extends out into the lake itself before meeting the shore again and trailing off onto a nature trail among the trees. You walk along the portion that sits over the lake, stopping every so often to watch the water lap at the wooden posts. There are only a few other people out here besides you two; it’s still too early for the afternoon crowds.

Taeyong stands beside you as you peer into the waters, his hair blowing across his face from the cool breeze.

“You should drop in a coin. Make a wish or something.”

“I thought that was only for fountains?”

“Maybe it’ll work here, too.” He leans forward to see both of your reflections staring back at him.

You giggle. “The fish will get mad at me. I think I’ll pass on that one. We should go see the trail though, there’s a flower bush there...I know you remember it.”

“The one that has those flowers with the funny-looking petals?”

“Yes! I wanna take a picture of it,” you say, already feet ahead of Taeyong. “Come on, or you’re getting left behind!”

You and Taeyong end up walking through the park for a couple of hours; it offers enough land to trek through for days and still be able to find something new every hour. With the sun rising higher in the sky, the temperature quickly starts shooting up. You wipe the sweat away from your forehead, stopping underneath a tree near the side of the park that faces the main road.

You’ve stayed in the park long enough for other people and food trucks to start appearing, and there’s already a line of different vendors camping along the sidewalk.

“I’m hot. We need some ice cream,” you sigh dramatically, leaning against the tree for strength.

“Come on, there’s an ice cream truck down the road.”

Taeyong pays for both your ice creams and you walk along the edge of the park after getting them, eating happily and pointing out birds and flowers to each other every few minutes.

The heat does a number on your ice cream, making it melt onto your hand before you’re even halfway through with the cone. “Damn.” You look at the sticky mess covering your hand. “I should’ve gotten a napkin! Hold on, I’ll just go—”

“Wait.” Taeyong grabs your arm. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he bends his head to lick the ice cream dripping across your fingers. Your eyes grow big, and you stutter trying to think of how to respond, but you end up merely watching him.

He soon pulls back after he finishes his job on your hand. “See? All gone now,” he grins, but his smile comes out more nervous than he intended. The atmosphere isn’t awkward, per se, but it’s definitely more tense than it was a few minutes ago.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say weakly, trying to ignore the heat flooding through your body at his actions. “Don’t get us kicked out of here for public indecency!”

After you finish your ice cream, you and Taeyong decide to leave the park before you melt into the pavement. You stretch your hands in front of the air vents when you get back into his car, letting the pleasant chill run up your arms as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, pressing your hand to the window. The park’s green scenery grows sparse and gives way to roads and familiar hardscapes, which means you’re probably heading to the busiest part of the city.

“Will you ever let me give you a surprise?” Taeyong whines, laughing. “I’ll give you one hint: you’ll need my credit card for it.”

“You mean mine?”

“No way, mine. You can buy whatever you want today, all on me. I already know what you’re thinking, but seriously, it’s fine; charge however much you want.”

“You’re too good to me, seriously. How did I find someone like you?”

“Luck, maybe.”

As you suspected, Taeyong takes you to the busier—and also more expensive—part of the city, packed with shops and boutiques on every corner and filled with people walking to and fro.

When you get out, you and Taeyong stand on the sidewalk gazing at the different stores. “I don’t know where to start,” you admit, gazing at the numerous options laid out in front of you. “You’re all into this luxury stuff, give me a recommendation for something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please?”

“Okay, here.” Taeyong pulls you to the first clothing store he sees, which happens to be Chanel. You haven’t been in here before, so you’re a bit taken aback at how spacious it is...and how just many clothes there are.

“Wow. I could probably shop forever and still not buy everything,” you say jokingly, drifting away from Taeyong to go over to a jacket that catches your eye.

You spend a lot of time going through the store—and the ones after that—trying to decide what you like. Taeyong buys you a few things from each one. He gives you suggestions at every place you stop in, but at the last store, he becomes drawn to a particular dress hanging on the rack. It’s black with big daisy patterns all over it, and the skirt is made of a flowing, silky material.

“Do you see something you like?” You peek over his shoulder at the dress.

“Yes, for you.” He takes it off the rack and holds it up to your body. “I think it’d look cute on you. Will you try it on?”

You give him a look before taking the dress from his hand. “Okay, let’s see how it looks.” You take it to the dressing room and undress so you can pull it on. The daisy patterns seemed a little overdone at first, but it looks better than you expected. After examining yourself in the mirror, you step outside the dressing room so Taeyong can see it.

“Well, what do you think of it?” you ask, spinning around so Taeyong can see it full-view. He taps his finger against his chin and nods, his eyes lingering on your form.

“You should wear it. Like, for the rest of the day.”

You turn to a nearby mirror and examine the dress again. “Hmm, you really think so?”

“It’s your birthday. You deserve to look good, don’t you?”

“Geez, are you saying my previous outfit was bad?” You snort, throwing Taeyong a skeptical look over your shoulder.

“No, I’m saying...this one is even better.” He’s practically eating you up with his eyes now, and there’s no room for doubt that he means what he says. You’re a bit flustered by the way he’s looking at you, so you turn back the mirror, staring at your reflection.

“Okay, I trust your taste,” you say, willing your heart rate to calm down a little. Taeyong smirks at you in the mirror’s reflection.

You try on a couple more things before leaving the last store—or more like, Taeyong convinces you that every item would look good on you and you decide to get it because you can’t resist his puppy dog eyes.

You drop your shopping bags off at your place before heading back out again. The next stop: the movie theater. Taeyong tells you to pick a movie and promises to stay awake through the whole thing even if he dislikes it, which you roll your eyes at.

“When have you ever known me to pick a bad movie?”

“Well…”

“On second thought, don’t answer that question.”

“Are you hungry?” Taeyong asks a couple hours after you leave the theater. It’s early evening now, but there’s still daylight from the long hours of summer. You had some popcorn in the theater, but you’re ready for the main course now.

“Yes, do you have something special planned for that too?” you ask, poking him in the side.

“Sure, but let’s go back to your place first, I think I left something there,” Taeyong says casually. You don’t suspect anything, so you happily agree, wondering where he’s gonna take you for dinner.

You get back to the building not too long after and head up the stairs to your floor with Taeyong trailing behind you. “This isn’t an excuse to look up my dress, is it?” you say jokingly, glancing back at him. Taeyong blushes at that and laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s not like that!”

You think Taeyong’s going to stop at your apartment once you get to it, but he keeps walking past it and towards the set of stairs that lead to the apartment’s rooftop.

“I’m hungry, Taeyong, why are we going to the roof? There isn’t any food up there,” you laugh, though you follow him as he tugs on your hand and guides you up the steps.

“You’ll see!”

When you get to the top of the stairs, Taeyong swings open the door. On the other side is your apartment’s rooftop, but it looks much different from the last time you saw it. On normal days, there’s a little hangout spot up there with tables and chairs, a fire pit, and an array of potted plants dotting each of the rooftop’s corners.

Now, there are little glowing fairy lights strung up everywhere, decorating the assortment of potted plants native to the rooftop’s decor. The chairs have been pushed to the sides of the roof to make room for a huge blanket in the middle, a quaint little picnic basket on top of it.

“Whoa,” you say, your eyes widening at the setup. “I’ve actually only been up here a few times...I guess I’ve been so busy I haven’t had proper time to appreciate it. It looks really different now...” You gaze at the city’s skyline in awe. The sun is still shining brightly, though darker oranges are already bleeding into the sky’s lighter hue in preparation for sunset. It won’t be long before the city is draped in darkness.

“Well, now you get to enjoy it with me!” Taeyong pulls you over to the blanket. The fire pit isn’t lit yet, but maybe you can do that later tonight.

“When did you even have time to set all this up, anyway? Seriously!” you ask as you and Taeyong sit down.

“I know people,” is his only explanation. “And it’s easy to pull strings when you’re cute.” He does an aegyo move and you shove him, laughing.

You and Taeyong dig into the picnic basket. “I made it myself too, ‘cause I know how much you like whatever you make.” He says this with a gentle smile.

“Ever the humble chef,” you laugh, taking the rest of the food out. There’s an array of fruits and other snacks in addition to the main meal. “Your cooking is always so good. How do you do it?” Taeyong shrugs.

“Sheer talent. Or magic. You should let me teach you one day,” Taeyong says with his mouth full.

“I should,” you say absentmindedly, looking across the skyline as you eat. “We should come up here more, too.”

After you finish the main meal, you and Taeyong feed each other pieces of fruit as he lies his head in your lap, his soft hair fanning across your bare legs. His eyes are soft as he looks up at you, and it makes your mind go warm and fuzzy with all the things you want to say to him.

Eventually, you lie back too, reclining on the soft blanket and gazing at the endless sheet of stars above you, glittering from light years away. Taeyong pulls away from you momentarily to light the fire pit, and the flames lick at the edges of your vision as you watch the starry sky.

“Do you ever think about how some of the stars have already long burned out? And their light is only just now reaching us?”

Taeyong makes a face as he settles beside you. “That’s a bit scary.”

“What if they were all gone? And there were actually no more stars left in our galaxy?” You turn your head to look at Taeyong. “What we would look at at night, then?”

Taeyong pauses for a moment before choosing his answer. “There would still be stars to look at. Like the ones here on Earth.” You smile at that.

The night gets darker as time wears on, and the temperature outside drops. Despite the warmth of the fire pit, Taeyong notices you shiver at the sudden breeze and pulls you closer to him, rubbing his hands on your arms. “Maybe we should go inside?”

“Sounds good to me, I’m starting to get a little sleepy anyway…we’ve been out all day,” you say, stretching your arms and legs. Taeyong cleans up all the food and empty containers spread around, refusing to let you lift a finger to help. Once the picnic basket is packed, you both roll off the blanket so he can fold it up and sling it over his arm. He puts the fire out and gets ready to leave with you, taking your hand.

“What about the lights and stuff?” you ask, glancing back at the fairy lighting still dangling off the potted plants.

“Later,” Taeyong says, waving it away. “Somebody will get to enjoy it tomorrow, maybe.”

You both head back down the stairs and to your apartment. Taeyong sets the stuff down and pulls you into a hug once you both enter your place.

“Today was so fun,” you say, hugging Taeyong back and relishing the feel of his arms around you. “It was the best birthday ever. You’re the best friend anyone could have, you know?”

“I could say the same.” Taeyong murmurs. You pull away from each other, but Taeyong’s fingertips linger at the hemline of your dress; he rubs the fabric between his fingers, a thoughtful look on his face. “You look so cute in this dress...really pretty.” His hand drifts higher and his fingers skirt across your waistline, to your arm, and up your shoulder until he’s hovering at your face.

Taeyong touches the side of your face, a gentle smile on his lips. Your eyes linger on each other’s for a tense moment, and then, Taeyong steps closer and closes the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. Maybe you should be surprised, but you’re not. Taeyong pulls your body closer, his hand sliding to the nape of your neck and into your hair, cradling the back of your head.

His lips are soft and his tongue is warm against yours. His other hand finds its way back to your skirt and drifts higher, higher, and higher underneath, dangerously close to the hemline of your underwear. He pulls away, panting against your lips, and you chase him for more. He acquiesces and gives you another hot kiss, but then breaks it to speak against your lips,

“I’ve been wanting to slip underneath this dress all day.” His fingers come around to your front, pressing into your sex. “Why do you think I picked it? In the shop...wouldn’t it have been nice if we fucked there?”

You moan at that as Taeyong’s lips drift to your jaw, then the side of your neck. You grip Taeyong’s wrist, bringing his hand closer, pressing his knuckles to your clit. You shudder, and Taeyong responds by dragging his fingers over that spot more firmly, feeling you grow wetter and warmer against him.

“Sit on the couch for me, baby.” Taeyong guides you backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. Your dress spreads out around you as you sit, and Taeyong kneels in front of you, dragging the fabric higher to rest above your thighs. He leans closer to lay soft kisses over your inner thighs, his fingers pressing into the skin as he pulls your body closer to his mouth. You tremble and press your back against the couch when he mouths at your clit through your underwear.

“Taeyong…” He licks you slowly through your underwear and you have to resist the urge to close your legs around his head as his tongue dances over your clit. He pulls back, looking up at you deviously, only to hook his fingers into your underwear and pull them down. You lift your hips to help him, and he holds you firmly in his grip, bringing your pussy closer to meet his warm and wanting mouth. You gasp at the feeling of his lips on your bare skin, pushing your hand through his hair, wanting him to bury himself inside you.

He slips a finger into you as he licks you and makes you pliable, and then he adds another as he presses them upwards to find the spot that will have you shaking for him. Taeyong finds it soon after and keeps thrusting into it as he lets his tongue trace circles over and over your clit, drawing out more moans and whines from you.

You’re wet and sticky with pleasure at this point, moving your hips along with Taeyong’s movements to draw out as much ecstasy as you can. You feel the orgasm building in your lower body as you grind yourself onto Taeyong’s fingers, and he brings you nearer to it until you’re teetering on the edge.

You tip over the precipice when Taeyong moans into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted and wiggles his fingers against your spot a little harder. You come hard on his fingers and face, and all you can do is grab onto his free hand for support as your legs shake and your stomach tenses from the waves of bliss flowing through you. When Taeyong thinks you’ve had enough, he pulls away from you with his face glistening. He licks his lips clean and lets go of your thighs, letting your relaxed form rest against the couch.

“Let’s go to your room,” he says, and gathers you up in his arms, taking you down the hall to where your bedroom is. He lays you gently on the bed and you watch with anticipation thrumming through your body as he sheds his clothing in front of you until he’s down to his underwear. Though you’ve just come, you’re already leaking and ready for him to pleasure you again.

His hands come up to your body to peel away your dress, and he guides you to lie back on the middle of the bed as his lips cover each new section of exposed skin. He kneads your breasts once they’re revealed to him, pinching your nipples and sucking them between his soft lips, teasing them into hard peaks. His mouth is indescribably warm and wet against your body, his hands equally as soft and gentle as they roam over your waist, down to your hips and legs and back again.

You take Taeyong’s chin between your fingers and bring his face back up to yours so you can kiss his lips and whisper in his ear, “Taeyong, please. I want you.”

Taeyong parts from you for a moment to grab a condom from his jeans, and once he rolls it on he settles between your legs with his cock nudging against your lower lips. He thrusts his hips against you, his tip catching on your entrance, and he keeps rocking himself until he’s fully seated inside of you, both of you moaning from the sensation of filling and being filled.

“You feel so good,” Taeyong murmurs into the side of your neck. He pushes into you slowly, wanting to feel every inch of you around him. With so many sensations flowing through you at once, you’re unsure where to put your hands, and they drift across Taeyong’s back aimlessly. The muscles there clench under your palms as he thrusts into you.

He is tender as he holds you close, kissing you wherever he can and moaning softly in your ear. This is not how you thought your night would end, but you have no complaints as Taeyong fills you over and over again, his hand sliding down your body to rub against your clit. You squeeze his shoulders, your nails pricking his skin slightly as the pleasure doubles inside you.

Droplets of sweat gather at his hairline and at the sides of his face, making the strands stick to his skin. You wipe these away as he looks into your eyes and strokes into you, his hips moving with more vigor as he gets more intense and feels the beginnings of his orgasm creeping up on him.

“I’m close,” Taeyong groans.

“Taeyong…” you sigh and arch against him as your climax overtakes you first, flooding through your body like liquid gold and making you tense and shiver around him.

Taeyong shudders against you when he comes, pulling your body closer to his and lowering his head onto your shoulder as he rides out the throes of pleasure. You both hold onto each other as if you’ll drift away otherwise, your arms tight around him as you listen to his heavy breaths.

He eventually rolls away from you to dispose of the condom. When he comes back, he pulls the bed covers back and draws you into his arms. You cuddle close together, and you can hear his heartbeat steadily next to your ear.

“You know I love you, right?” Taeyong asks quietly, drawing his index finger along your side. It tickles, but you don’t mind much as long as he’s touching you.

“Do you know I love you?” you say back, your lips moving against his collarbone as you speak. He brings his hand up to your hair, breathing in your scent.

“Mmm...maybe.” His body shakes with laughter. “I think maybe I knew it all along.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes. Tiredness sweeps over you, and you know you’ll have to talk more in the morning, but right now you are more than content to leave things as they are. “Maybe we were made for each other.”

#taeyong smut #taeyong fluff #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong fic #nct smut #nct fic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fic #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #taeyong #nct 127

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lightwdangelo · 3 years

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You Take Care Of Everyone, Please Take Care Of Yourself Too

Hello people! I’m back with one more fanfiction, this time with Solangelo!

Summary: Yes, we could say Nico was starting to get worried. Not that he didn’t trust Will to take care of himself, obviously not, far from that. But...

Will is exhausted from college and work in New Rome

You can see it in ao3 too!

Walking down the streets of New Rome, with his back a little sore and feeling a knot forming in his stomach, he had just finished a project he was helping Reyna with, so he was coming back home a little earlier than planned. What would be great, he would be able to see Will after a hell of a week they both had.

Yes, we could say Nico was starting to get worried. Not that he didn’t trust Will to take care of himself, obviously not, far from that. But Will was looking like a zombie recently. The bag under his eyes was bigger than ever, he was barely talking, sleeping, or eating. This was unusual. More than unusual.

Well, Nico wasn’t that aware of the situation until he actually saw the estate his boyfriend was. This last week they barely saw each other with the thing Nico was helping Reyna with besides Will’s classes and work.

The blond boy was sitting in front of what looked like billion of books and notebooks but he wasn’t reading them. He just looked at everything, with an unmoving pen in his hand, and a cup of coffee in front of him. He didn’t seem to see Nico, even though they were in front of each other.

He looked like he had zoomed out. Shit

“Sunshine? Are you okay?” No response “Will?”

Nico walked slowly towards Will, he didn’t want to scare him, he knew how awful this was. He should’ve realized sooner that Will was close to a breakdown, that he was overworking, fuck, he was so busy, they were so busy.

“Babe?” Nico touched his cheek lightly and Will jerked away from his dream, more like a nightmare.

“Darling” He probably wanted to look excited, but his voice was a reflex of how exhausted he was “You are home early, what happened?”

“The stuff I was helping Reyna with is done and… Your coffee is cold, why you’re drinking it?”

“I really need to study these things” He gestured to all the things on the table “I have a test coming soon, and-”

“No,” Nico said with a frown on his face. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this

“No what?”

“Will, you’re literally looking like a zombie, and I’ve seen zombies!” Will just stared with that look on his face “Don’t look at me with that face ‘You’re exaggerating’ because I am not! You were literally zoomed out when I came home” His last sentence was quieter, full of worries.

“I’m fine, Nico!”

“The fuck you are”

“Nico! I really need to study, okay? I’m not having enough time to do it with the internship. There’s always something more and more and” His voice cracked a little and he sighed “I’m fine, Neeks”

He closed his eyes and his breathing was shaky. His expression was all too familiar to Nico, he was trying not to cry, not break. Nico hugged him as tight as he could, ready to protect him from the world.

“You can cry, my love” Will started shaking in Nico's arms, he tried to talk, but he couldn’t. Nico never saw him this way. It broke his heart and he just wanted to hold him closer. “Let it all out”

After the gods know how long, Will stopped crying and stood up from his place, and smiled softly, maybe to convince himself that everything was okay. It wasn’t and that was okay.

“Thanks, darling” Nico tried to give him his best ‘wanna talk about it now or later?’ “I’ll take a shower, okay? Be right back”

Knowing Will, he would just take a shower and go back to study, and he would get overwhelmed again, so Nico did what every loving boyfriend would: He hid Will’s books. And, prepared a cup of tea. He didn’t know exactly what was passing through Will’s mind, but he knew that studying wouldn’t help

“Darling” Will said when he came back “Where are my books?”

“Is that my shirt?” Nico pointed out

“It’s actually mine, you just stole it.” He started looking around “Don’t run away from the question, where are my books?”

“I hid it; you won’t be studying anymore today”

“Are you out of your mind? Why the hell did you do that for?”

“Sunshine, you’re not in the mind to study. Seriously, you’ve been working as fuck, and you just had a breakdown. I am not letting you touch these books again until tomorrow afternoon”

He rolled his eyes but laid down on the sofa with his head in Nico’s lap while muttering something that looked like “You’re impossible”

“Stop being grumpy. I made tea, you’ll have to sit”

“But you’re so comfy,” He said, and to make his point, he hugged Nico harder. The son of Hades said nothing, just ran his hands in Will’s hair. It was wet, but it didn’t make it less good.

“What we’re going to watch?”

“I was thinking of Star Wars because it’s your favorite, what do you think?”

“I’m not in a Star Wars mood, actually?” Nico frowned because, wow, that was rare. Will always was in a Star Wars mood “I think we should watch a Disney movie”

“The Beauty and the Beast, right?” This was the one that Will always chooses. Every time. On a hand that Nico didn’t really like to rewatch movies, Will was obsessed with it. He lost his count of how many times he’d come home and catch Will watching the same movie he had just watched a week ago.

They just sat there watching the movie peacefully, Nico passing his hands lazily through Will’s hair and humming along with the songs that he already listened to a thousand times because his boyfriend was also obsessed with the soundtrack of the movie. What a dork.

“Neeks” Will said “This scene looks like us”

“Care to elaborate?” The scene he was referring to was when Belle was tending Beast’s wounds

“THAT HURTS” The beast shouted

“If you’d hold still it wouldn’t hurt as much!” Belle responded

“Well, if you hadn’t run away this wouldn’t have happened!”

“If you hadn’t frightened me I wouldn’t have run away!

“When you came to the camp, after Gaea and all that shit, you were a brat who wouldn’t let me take proper care of you. I can’t even count how many fights we had that looked kinda like this one”

Nico just kissed Will’s cheek aggressively as an answer. He was right, after all. They fought quite a lot when Nico got injured back in the old days. He had his motives.

“And I do look like the Beast a little”

“No you don’t” He sat up straight with a frown on his face

“A little bit, love” Will’s face just looked more and more confused “Look, everybody is a little scared of me; I can be grumpy sometimes…”

“Every morning, darling”

“Oh shut it” Nico smacked him lightly in the head where Will laid in his lap again “Are you hungry? Because I’m starving”

“I could do some pizza, actually. I can put it in the oven, pause the movie” He stood up and went to the kitchen

As Nico watched him, he thought about it earlier. He didn’t know exactly what had happened but he wanted to help. He hoped he could figure something out to help his love feel better.

Will’s curls were in a mess, and his T-Shirt wrinkled because of the position he was on the sofa. He looked relaxed, so different from how he had been during the week.

“I missed you,” Nico said not realizing how soft his voice had gotten

“I missed you too” Will leaned in the counter “Sorry, by the way.”

“For?” Nico stood confused and went to the counter to be face to face with Will.

“The only thing you should be sorry for is for not taking care of yourself,” Nico said after Will gestures vaguely at the table “Tesoro, you take care of everyone, please, take care of yourself too”

“I know, It’s just…” He sighed like saying this was a difficult task. It was. Nico knew how fucking hard was expressing his feelings, “Back when we were on camp I used to do it regularly. I worked until I was exhausted, and then one of my siblings would take over. But, now I’m alone. I don’t have them to cover me up and I have to take care of everything. Plus the uni things. There, I’d just be a healer twenty-four seven. Now I have to be a student, and a healer and somehow both of these things twenty-four seven”

“Sunshine,” Nico said softly because he didn’t know what else to say. He hugged Will tightly “We’re going to figure this out. You should get some breaks from the hospital to focus a little more on your finals. You said they were coming up, right? They would understand”

“But I need to be there and-“

“And you need to take care of yourself and your finals, so taking a break of something only for a while” Nico gave emphasis in the last sentence “Won’t be bad.”

“Maybe” Will sighed, “Can we not talk about this right now? It was good venting but I don’t know if I’m really good at thinking about it. Tomorrow we’ll find a solution, but right now I can’t make myself think about this without stressing”

“Ok, fair enough” Nico tiptoed and brought Will’s face down to give him a forehead kiss and they enjoyed each other warmth in the middle of their kitchen until the alarm went off telling them that their pizza was ready

“Let’s finish the movie, shall we?”

When they finished their pizzas Will laid on Nico and by the time the movie finished, they were both asleep. They would wake up tomorrow with their backs sore, but they couldn’t care. In each other’s warmth, they knew everything would be okay.

#toa #trials of apollo #hoo #heroes of olympus #solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo fanfic #my fic #clara writes stuff

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thesaltyace · 3 years

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I hope the dude who thought it was appropriate to be openly racist at his job while helping us find an item thinks twice about doing it again. 🙃

I've realized that I tend to type out interactions like this because it helps me process them and vent, so it's below the cut. Keep scrolling, just my own theatre of the mind replaying it.

One thing about wearing kilts in public is that at least once (often more than once) per outing someone asks about them. Most of the time it's a fairly nice interaction, they're just curious and are perfectly kind (or at least polite) about it.

And then there's the other kinds of interactions. The ones where someone asks my spouse "What are you?" and "You don't look Scottish?" because he's visibly Not White. Those are annoying and initiate a fight /flight response (to which we usually freeze). But it's almost worse when you're having what seems like a normal conversation and it suddenly takes a sharp turn to Racist Central without warning.

That happened today in the middle of Lowe's. An employee helped us find something we were looking for, left, then doubled back to ask about the kilts. And. Apparently. He felt comfortable enough with our Not Blackness to segue from a discussion of Scottish heritage and language into a discussion of how the Irish were enslaved and anyway "everyone's" been enslaved at some point so he doesn't feel bad for anyone. Cause, you know, those people complaining about it here are just making it into a big deal, get over it.

Spouse and I went glassy eyed and quiet for a moment.

Honestly, if he'd just made a quick statement and left us alone we would have just not responded to any of it and walked away in awkward silence. It's not worth engaging with on most days - we just want to get away from these people as quickly as possible. But he just... kept going. The more he talked the harder we cringed. We were the only ones in the entire store still wearing masks so, granted, our eyes couldn't really tell the whole story on our faces. But dude.... we are having zero response to you. No arm gesturing. No auditory affirmations. Nothing.

Spouse isn't confrontational, and being Not White makes it hard for him to publicly speak up and, in doing so, further "other" himself.

But I'm white. And I've got a temper. And a loud mouth.

So I just interrupted him with, "Uhhhh yeah I don't agree."

He partially registered what I said, but unfortunately then just kind of went about trying to explain it in another way.

So I interrupted him again.

"Yeah, I understand what you're saying. But I don't agree."

He looked genuinely shocked. "So, what, you think --"

"Yeah, I think stuff is pretty bad even today."

(Yeah yeah, it's vague but I was caught off guard by my own blunt response to him. 😳 Plus, I'm not going to waste my time or breath trying to explain anything to a racist shitbag in the middle of Lowe's who thought this was an appropriate topic to discuss with a stranger at his job.)

"Oh. Well I'm sorry if I offended you."

I just nodded.

I guess my lack of assurance that it was "okay" worried him.

He then leaned down to get at my eye level and honestly got way too close to my face in my process. "Did I offend you?"

I took a moment to reflect on the fact that he thought we were Not Black, and therefore thought we were safe people to complain about black people. Black people who are rightfully upset about and still feeling the effects of slavery and segregation. Black people who are vocally protesting police brutality, systemic racism, and the exact type of casual racism he was currently exhibiting. Knowing that my spouse isn't white and remembering every time he's suffered racist fuckwads like this guy. Like, it should be obvious the answer is yes, but he wants to ASK?

"Yeah, you did."

"Oh. Well again, I apologize."

He kinda stepped back awkwardly so we could leave the aisle and again seemed very concerned that neither of us had waved it off or said something in response.

As I stepped around him I pointed to the tool in Spouse's hand and said, "Uh. Thanks for helping us find this."

And then I immediately launched into talking with Spouse about the next store we needed to go to, so that Mr. Racist Shitbag didn't have a chance to say anything else to us.

I am still just FLOORED at that whole interaction. I didn't want to go find a manager right then to complain. I was so wound up I doubt I could have made a coherent sentence at all, plus I don't think I would have reacted well to the possibility of a manager acting like it wasn't a big deal.

So instead I'm sitting here wondering if I should submit a complaint online. I don't have the employee's name (didn't even occur to me at the time to try to look at his name tag) but he looks very distinctive so I'm sure I could adequately describe him.

Like, the obvious answer is yes, I should complain. I just still worry about this being such a small community and knowing that we're also easily identifiable as the only people in the entire city who wear kilts. Complaining could potentially get its way back to people who hold positions over my spouse and cause him trouble, especially knowing the dean of his college is a Trumper and doesn't think he's racist. 🙄

Bleghhhh could we please go outside ONCE and not have an encounter with bigoted fuckwads?

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anavkourfic · 3 years

Note

apricity, hq? :D

thanks for the ask! added a song since this reminded me of it. this was really fun! many liberties with how snow works were taken

apricity - the warmth of the sun in the winter + “deep breath in the sun” by Grady — 1.4k words

~~~

“i can’t believe i let you talk me out here.”

“but kenmaaa, it’s snowing!”

“wow, i didn’t notice,” kenma glowers down at a clump of snowflakes slowly melting in his scarf. it’s not actually his scarf, just one he’d stolen from kuroo before being physically dragged out of their apartment. it smells like Axe and lavender fabric softener and a bit like the fancy cologne kuroo puts in the hollow of his throat before important events. kuroo himself is wearing a different scarf, and he looks way too cheery for the temperature.

“you’ve gotta go outside sometimes. you need sunlight.”

“the sun’s not even out.”

“yes it is!” kuroo gestures to a vague part of the sky, where there’s a dim patch of light through the cloud cover.

“where,” kenma deadpans. “it’s cloudy.”

“partly.”

“mostly.”

“it’s enough to be good for you,” kuroo elbows him. “the world-famous kodzuken needs his vitamin d and he’s going to get it one way or another.”

“you missed a golden opportunity for a joke there.”

“i figured you wouldn’t appreciate it so i refrained from being crude in public,” kuroo says loftily. kenma snorts. “but i can go back to being crude if you prefer.”

“i was just worried you were losing your comedic touch.”

“me? never,” kuroo scoffs. “in fact, i’ve learned a lot from watching fukunaga’s specials.”

“your sense of humour has gone from subpar to mediocre at best.”

“still an improvement,” kuroo sing-songs. kenma grumbles a dissent, though kuroo seems to take it as acquiescence and grins to himself for the rest of the walk to the park.

it’s early january, which means that despite it being the middle of the V-league season, Bokuto is in Tokyo to cheer on Fukurodani at Spring Nationals. And since Bokuto is in Tokyo, someone had the great idea to get the gang back together again. kenma wouldn’t mind this usually—he and akaashi are still friends and bokuto has become slightly more than tolerable after years of exposure—but usually they’re inside, where it’s warm, and where kenma can bury himself in as many blankets as he can while kuroo cooks and talks volleyball in the kitchen. this year, however, someone elected to meet in a park, outside, where it’s cold and cloudy and kenma is anaemic, dammit! this is not his weather. he tells kuroo this and gets a “you should eat your spinach.” in return.

when they get to the park, bokuto and akaashi are already there, sitting together on a bench. bokuto spots them first and leaps up, almost hitting akaashi in the face with his elbow as he waves frantically. kuroo returns the gesture with a much tamer wave. kenma refuses to take his hands out of his pockets.

“BRO LOOK I GOTTA SHOW YOU SOMETHING!” bokuto yells. he’s still waving his hands. kenma hears akaashi’s faint, “not so loud, koutarou,” and hmm. not bokuto-san anymore. he might have an idea of what’s going on now.

“alright, alright,” kuroo says amiably. “what’s–“

bokuto shoves his hand in kuroo’s face, and kenma spots the glint of a ring on his finger in the scattered light.

“whoa! dude!” kuroo beams. “seriously?” bokuto nods so enthusiastically kenma’s surprised his head doesn’t fall off. “congrats!”

“finally,” kenma looks over to akaashi, who shows him a complimentary ring. his cheeks are flushed, though it’s unclear if it’s from embarrassment or the cold. “when?”

“last night,” akaashi replies.

“i’m surprised bo kept it a secret this long,” kuroo teases.

“i was trying really really hard!” bokuto cries.

“seriously though, congrats, i know that’s a big step,” kuroo says. it is a big step, especially since bokuto’s in the public eye and this is a decision that could come back to haunt him. if they decide to share it publicly, that is, which is likely. “should we make a celebratory snowman?”

“oh hell yeah!” bokuto pumps his fist. “i haven’t made one since high school!”

“i’ll supervise,” akaashi sticks his hands in his pockets, pulls on a pair of gloves.

“aw, c’mon, keiji!” bokuto gives akaashi puppy-eyes. “it’s our celebratory snowman, you gotta help!”

akaashi caves much faster than kenma would expect, and then he’s rolling snowballs across the grass with kuroo and bokuto while kenma stands by the bench. he sits down, hissing as the cold of the metal seeps through his jeans.

he’s glad his friends are willing to let him sit off to the side and watch most times they do stuff together—though occasionally kuroo will put his foot down and kenma is forced to participate. it’s been this way since high school training camps: when kuroo and bokuto and akaashi would stay in the gym for extra practice, kenma sat by the door and waited for kuroo to tire out during his first year and then just walked himself to their sleeping room during his second. [third year was different, mostly because kuroo was gone and shouyou had gotten a lot better at wheedling kenma into setting for him]. they don’t push when they know he needs space, and he knows he’s welcome to jump in or out at any point. it’s nice. normally, kenma would feel socially charged-up enough to interact, but the cold is quickly sapping his energy.

he watches as kuroo and bokuto gather armfuls of snow for akaashi to sculpt into a snoman-esque shape, catches bits of conversation in the distance [“how’s the team been since i saw them last?” “great! shouyou and ‘tsumu’s new quick is INSANE.”]. he takes out his phone, mostly to play a game and distract himself from the chill, but also because bokuto and kuroo together leads to some picture-worthy moments—he has an entire folder of them and his favourite is still the one of kuroo stuck in a ceiling vent from a few years ago. but it’s too cold even for this—his hands are shaking so much that when he tries to put in his password, he can’t hit the right numbers. kenma scowls at the screen and tucks his legs closer to his body, trying to conserve heat. he eventually gets the right password, but it’s not like he’s going to be able to play anything successfully or take any not-blurry pictures like this, so he just checks the temperature [minus two celcius, way too cold for january in tokyo] and puts his phone away.

he’s just about to announce he’s going home again and leave the others to their snowman shenanigans when the world starts lightening. he thinks it’s just his eyes and that he’s about to pass out [from the cold, he thinks bitterly, and it’s all kuroo’s fault] when he looks up and sees the last of the clouds passing over the bright blotch of sun behind them.

the sun spills over his face, and oh, that’s actually really nice, a hint of warmth smoothed over the bite of the cold. he sits and drinks in the warmth for a moment, resting his head on his arms on the back of the park bench, watching a few leaves swirl in the breeze. it’s enough to quell the worst of the shivering.

huh. he might need sunlight more than he thinks.

“oi, kenma!”

kenma glances over to where kuroo’s standing, hands on his hips.

“sun,” he says, pointing to the sky. “see?”

“i didn’t notice,” kenma replies drily. kuroo laughs and flings a handful of snow in his direction. “you missed.”

kuroo grins back at him, and in a burst of childish mischief, kenma has an idea. once kuroo turns back to the snow-creature that bokuto’s attempting to add more slush to, kenma gathers up a handful of snow and packs it tightly in his hands. he meanders closer, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

“finally deigning to join us, oh great kodzuken?” kuroo doesn’t turn around, mostly because he’s very carefully carving a face into the snow-creature with a stick. he’s even at a height kenma can reach. perfect.

“yeah,” he says, then shoves the handful of snow down the back of kuroo’s shirt and runs.

“KYANMA!”

[he doesn’t make it twenty feet before kuroo catches up and returns the favour by tackling him (gently) into a snowdrift. normally this would be grounds for kuroo to spend the night on the couch, but kenma can’t find it in him to care even when kuroo gives him a smug smirk before helping him out of the snow. and then kuroo drags him over to the snowman, and he starts helping akaashi mold the snowman’s hair into something resembling bokuto’s as bokuto and kuroo throw snow at each other, and it’s nice.

maybe the cold isn’t so bad after all.]

~~~

send me a word from this list + a fandom or pairing and i’ll write something!

#kuroken #haikyuu!!#writing challenge answers #cementcinema #long post #i'm working on the other 3 i got but please keep sending them in! these are very helpful to churn out ideas #edit: fixed that sentence i left hanging haha

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arckook · 5 years

Text

around and around - three

pairing: cho seungyoun x reader, kim wooseok x reader

au: idolverse

warnings: none

wordcount: 4.1k

description: you’ve had a one-sided crush on your close friend seungyoun for who knows how long, but things don’t stay so black and white when he introduces you to his new groupmate kim wooseok.

It’s November now, which means it’s a little chilly. The first few days of being back in Korea were a dramatic change from the warmth of Hawaii- you’d gone outside without a coat, and were immediately shocked by the prick of cold air, having to run back inside to get something to put over your outfit.

You’d almost done it again today.

Where are you :(

It’s cold!!!!!!!!

You send the texts one after the other, then quickly tuck your hands under your arms, shivering. You can handle the cold during the day, but at night, it feels like it really gets into your bones.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, so you pull it out to look.

Pink coat + beret?

You glance around to see if you can spot him, but you guess he’ll just pop out of nowhere like last time.

That’s me!!

Kim Wooseok doesn’t respond, and you’re right in your guess that he’ll appear at your side within thirty seconds. It takes you a moment to get that it’s him, since he’s wearing not only a mask and those glasses, but a hat too.

“You look like you’re hiding from the police or something,” you tell him, sticking your phone in your back pocket.

“And you look like you’re trying to make yourself recognizable.” he retorts, reaching up to pull his mask down. “Better?”

You nod, smiling. “Yup. It’s weird talking to someone when you can’t see half their face. Anyway, I wore this so you could find me easier, so if I were you, I’d be saying thanks.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Wooseok deadpans, then glances around, almost looking nervous. “Let’s start walking.”

You shrug, following his lead when he starts going down the street. “Did you pick a place to eat?”

“No,” he says simply, which explains why it feels like you’re just walking without a destination.

“Hey!” you exclaim, frowning over at him. “You had three weeks and you still didn’t decide?”

Wooseok glances sideways at you. “You don’t like my favorite food, so you can just pick.”

“Huh?” you tilt your head. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Chicken feet,” he answers, and you almost physically gag. Wooseok cracks a smile.

“How’d you know I don’t like those?” you ask, shaking off your disturbance at the thought of eating that cursed dish. You’d tried them when you first moved into the dorm with Jiseo, Eunmi, and Soohyun- who all like them. That was an experience that, regretfully, you’ll never forget.

“The youngest in our group won’t eat them either. Seungyoun mentioned you while we were all talking about it.” Wooseok says, which catches your attention.

“Seungyoun mentioned me?” you ask, holding back a smile. “Did he say anything else?”

Wooseok glances at you again, with a sort of vague expression. “No, sorry.”

You nod, looking back towards the street. “Oh, okay.”

“...Well, what do you like to eat?” he asks after a few seconds. “We should go somewhere unpopular.”

Since he actually met you closer to your dorm, you know the area pretty well.

“Oh!” you grin. “There’s a really good budae-jjigae place nearby! The lady who owns it has known me since forever so she’ll give us a discount, and there’s a private room if you’re nervous about being seen together.”

Wooseok nods. “Sure.”

“Looks good,” Wooseok remarks after your food arrives, the pot of stew steaming hot. “How many calories do you think this is?”

“I don’t know and I’m not going to think about that,” you tell him, picking up your chopsticks and digging in right away, putting some of the meat and tofu in your smaller bowl so it can cool off faster.

He snorts, probably at your brazen response, but you deal with people questioning how much you should be eating practically every single meal, and once in a while, you’d like to ignore that you have to watch your weight.

Wooseok takes some of the stew for himself, mentioning something to you about eating the noodles quickly so they won’t get soggy.

You eat in silence for a little while- you think he must have been hungry and just hadn’t said anything about it. And you were definitely hungry too, after having been busy shooting photos for a pictorial the entire day.

“So,” Wooseok eventually starts, surprising you. “How was your trip to Hawaii?”

You sit back in your chair and finish chewing as you nod. “It was fun. The scenery was so beautiful, I’ve always wanted to go there to see everything for myself. It lived up to what people say about it.”

He hums, sipping some of the soup. “Guess I’ll have to go there someday.”

“If you ever get the chance, you should,” you say, starting to eat again. “It was really relaxing. I think being in nature like that puts your mind at peace.”

Wooseok sighs. “I could use that.”

You frown, teeth latching onto your bottom lip as you watch him dip his head down towards his bowl to lift some noodles into his mouth. You didn’t notice before outside in the dark, but in here with the bright lighting, you can see that the skin under Wooseok’s eyes is dark with fatigue, and his posture seems weak.

“Wooseok-ssi,” you say, a little quieter than before. He looks up to meet your eyes and you almost say nevermind, but you force yourself to go on. “I really meant it when I said you could vent to me. I’ll still pay for the meal.”

He pauses, in what you think might be consideration. For a second, you’re expecting him to set down his chopsticks, and start letting out all of the things that are bothering him.

Instead, Wooseok offers you a hint of a smile. “I’m doing fine, Y/N-ssi.”

“Alright,” you mumble, looking down at your bowl and beginning to scoop more of the stew into it.

Wooseok clears his throat. “...Did you want to hear anything else about Seungyoun?”

Remembering that that was the whole original deal you two had made, you glance up, mouth full. “Yeah, tell me!” you try to say, but you’re pretty sure it comes out unintelligible. Despite that, you guess Wooseok understood that you were saying yes, because he nods and starts talking.

“Besides the chicken feet thing, I got Seungyoun to talk about you another time.”

You swallow quickly, then start coughing, then choke a little, desperately grabbing a napkin and ducking away so that Wooseok can’t see you dying in front of him. Once you’ve recovered, you set the napkin down and smile. “What’s the context? What’d he say?”

Wooseok gives you a look of plain disgust, shaking his head. “How can you have possibly told me that you’re not weird, with confidence?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, still smiling. “Go on about Seungyoun?”

He rolls his eyes, but obliges. “I asked him if you’d sent him any pictures of you in Hawaii, and he said you sent them in your friend groups’ groupchat but he hadn’t seen them yet. I asked if he could show me since you hadn’t put any on your social media yet, so we looked at them together-”

“What’d you two think of the one where I’m on the mountain, and I’m pointing at the sky?” you interrupt, squinting. “Eunmi-unnie took that one literally, and I’m not exaggerating, thirty times, so I was worried it would come out looking unnatural.”

Wooseok gives you yet another look, this time just seeming tired. “I thought it looked fine, if that’s what you’re asking. Seungyoun didn’t say much, he just said that he thought it looked really refreshing there.”

You stare at Wooseok for a second, wondering if you just heard what he said right, and then remembering how few times Seungyoun has really said anything about how you look in photos, you look back down at your bowl, pushing what’s left around inside it. “Ah.”

You hear Wooseok sigh, and the sound of him setting down his chopsticks. “Y/N-ssi, are you sure you really want me to tell you these things? Isn’t it just making you feel worse?”

You shake your head, trying to smile at him briefly. “No, I appreciate it. Maybe hearing this stuff will put me in my right mind.”

Wooseok is quiet.

You don’t really have much of an appetite anymore.

“Wooseok-ssi,” you say, sitting straight again. “Am I wrong for wanting him to say that I look pretty in a photo? I hear it often, but I just want to hear it from him.”

The man across from you looks at you with a vague expression, but you think, by the way he hesitates, that Wooseok feels bad for you. “I think that’s just what liking someone is.”

“...I guess so,” you say after a moment, doing your best to smile again.

Wooseok sends you off in a taxi when you’re both done with the meal, promising to meet up with you again soon, when you have time.

“Again,”

Your dance coach’s voice is sharp when it rings out. She’s said the word ‘again’ probably a hundred times in the last hour. You sigh, but walk to your starting spot.

“Wait a minute,”

You look to the side, surprised to hear Jiseo speak up. Your leader has her hands on her hips, her bangs are stuck to her glistening forehead. She looks exhausted.

“The kids are all tired,” Jiseo says, gesturing to the other three of you. “We’ve run this a thousand times in the past two days, and it’s eleven pm. Ssaem, don’t you want to go home too?”

“Are you kidding?” your coach stands up from where she’d been sitting in front of you. You don’t know what’s been up with her, but lately she’s been getting antsy and harsh so easily with the four of you. “Award season is starting soon and you want to go home without making sure it’s perfect? You have three more dance breaks to learn, and you think you can slack off on the first one? Park Jiseo, are you a leader or not?”

“Am I a leader?” Jiseo snaps back. You match eyes with Soohyun, who looks visibly distressed. “I’m trying to take care of the members, because ever since we got back from Hawaii, we’ve been worked to the bone every day! We’ve been here for thirteen hours, the routine looks perfect in the mirror- it’s not going to get any better if we do it again right now!”

Your coach’s jaw is clenched tight, and her arms are crossed over her chest. “...Fine. You think it looks perfect, then you don’t need to practice that one until the day you perform it. I hope it looks perfect then, too, for your own sake.” she snatches her bag off the floor next to her, and stalks out the door.

“Ssaem, you know that’s not what I was saying-” Jiseo gets cut off by the slam of the door.

The four of you stand there in a tense and thick silence.

“Did her husband cheat on her or something?” Eunmi mutters, and you crack a smile, then Soohyun chuckles behind her hand, and even Jiseo lets out an amused puff of air from her nose.

“Sorry that I probably just made tomorrow’s dance practice ten times harder,” Jiseo says, running a hand through her hair. “I just wanted us to have time to eat some dinner tonight.”

“It’s okay, unnie,” Soohyun chirps, already looking brighter now that the mood has been lifted. “I want fried chicken, does anyone else?”

“Sounds good to me,” Eunmi says, stretching out her limbs. “Is Dowoon-oppa gonna be at the apartment when we get back? ‘Cause if he is, we need to eat it here.”

“He’ll probably make us get on the scale when we go back anyway,” Jiseo rolls her eyes. “Let’s just go home and pretend we ate. I’ll make sure he leaves, and then we can order chicken.”

“Mmm,” Soohyun throws her arm around your shoulders, and you smile at the youngest’s antics. “Unnie, doesn’t it sound so good? Some crispy chicken… mmmmmmmm…”

“It sounds good,” you nod, patting her cheek. “Let’s get going, then.”

“Y/N!” Seungyoun’s voice calls out brightly into your earphones. “I didn’t think you’d pick up, honestly.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you joke, setting your phone on the dashboard of the treadmill so you can actually see his face. “And also sorry that I’m answering at the gym.”

“I thought you’d be at dance practice,” Seungyoun says, brows turned up. “Why are you at the gym?”

“Because I’m not at dance practice,” you answer, knowing it’s going to annoy him ever so slightly.

“Just answer the question,” Seungyoun whines.

You sigh, slowing down the speed of the treadmill so you can talk easier. “Jiseo-unnie argued with our dance coach last night, and I guess she got mad enough to cancel practice today. She said we should dilly dally since that’s what we want to do anyway.”

Seungyoun cackles, and even though you know he’s about to tease you and your group members for always being so stubborn, his laugh makes you smile.

“I should send a bouquet to Jiseo for never letting anyone mistreat you,” he says, still chuckling. “It seems like you guys always have something to say to your staff.”

“That’s not true at all!” you frown at your phone, hoping the connection is good enough that Seungyoun can see your scrunched up face. “We loved Sungjoon-oppa, and we love all of our makeup artists and stylists and the female managers, and our CEO is nice to us, too. Something’s just up with Haeyoung-ssaem lately, and our new manager Dowoon-oppa is frustrating too.”

“Tell me in person!” Seungyoun says, surprising you.

“Huh?” you frown deeper. “In person?”

“Yeah, let’s hang out today,” he says, smiling that peaceful, Seungyoun smile at you through the screen. “You promised, remember? And you just exposed yourself for having a day off.”

“Oh, well, I was still going to work, though,” you say, and then mentally smack yourself. Why did you not immediately accept his offer?

“On what? You’re really going to work on a day off?” Seungyoun’s bright look fades.

“Well… I figured since it wasn’t really meant to be a day off, I’d go to my studio and work on some music or something.”

“To your studio?” he pipes up again. “When? I’ll meet you there.”

You laugh. “Oppa, do you even know where it is?”

He shrugs. “It’s in your company building somewhere, right? I can find it!”

“If you really want to come, just meet me in the building lobby at five,” you say, smiling.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Seungyoun says, winking. “Don’t leave me stranded alone in another label’s headquarters, Y/N!”

“I won’t,” you tell him.

Seungyoun smiles again, that smile.

Ugh.

“I’ll see you later, then.” he says, and waves. “Bye!”

“Bye,” you say back, and he hangs up.

“Excuse me,”

You look to the side, seeing what looks to be about a thirty-five-year-old woman in a Gucci tracksuit and diamond earrings standing by you.

“Uh, yes?” you ask, taking out one earpod.

“You’ve been on there for forty minutes, dear, and the maximum is half an hour. I know you’re some celebrity, but you’re not all that. Let’s give other people a chance.”

You smile, grabbing your phone and your water and hopping off the treadmill. “Yes, ahjumma.”

Her eyes widen, and she sputters something about not being old enough for you to call her that. You chuckle as you walk to the showers, thinking that you’ll have to tell Seungyoun later.

You walk up to your company building a few minutes before five, pushing your sunglasses up onto your head with one hand, and digging in your bag for your ID with the other, not really looking where you’re going.

“Oof!”

You smack into someone, and nearly fall as you step back to try and balance yourself. The person spins around, and your eyes widen when you see that it’s Seungyoun, reaching out to grab and steady you.

“What a greeting,” he says, holding both your arms and helping you back to your feet. He grins, letting go to pat your head. “What if I hadn’t been there to catch you?”

“Catch me?” you roll your eyes, but give him an appreciative smile. “What if you hadn’t been standing in front of the door?”

“What?” he exclaims. “The door is at least a few feet away! You just weren’t watching where you were heading.”

You shrug, finally getting a hold of your ID, and flash it to the secretary. You don’t know why you even still need to do that- you’re pretty sure they all know your face around here. “That’s true.”

You start walking, heading through the first door into the room with the elevators and some seating. “I thought I’d have to wait for you, why’d you come so early?”

“I only got here a couple minutes before you did,” Seungyoun says, looking around the room. You press the up button on the elevator.

“Oh, good.”

You hear Seungyoun breathe in to start talking, but the elevator doors open right at that moment, and a few trainees at your company get out.

“Sunbaenim!” one of them says, and you recognize him after a moment as the oldest, who your CEO always talks about being “the next big thing”, or something dramatic like that.

“Oh, hello,” you smile, bowing your head slightly as they bow to you. “Are you all going to eat?”

“That’s right,” the main boy says, his grin half-crooked. “Sunbaenim, do you want to join us?”

Surprised, you can’t help but laugh at how confidently he just asked you that. “Thank you for the invitation, but not this time. I’ll treat you all to a meal when you debut. Enjoy your meal.”

The boy winks as the other trainees seem to cringe at him. “Thank you, sunbaenim,”

They all bow to you and you bow your head back as they leave.

“They seem to like you,” Seungyoun comments, pressing the up button again as the elevator doors closed while you were talking to the trainees. The doors open up quickly, and the two of you step in.

You reach forward to press the number 8. “I try to look after some of the trainees. Lately they’ve all been practicing a lot. It’s always nice to hear some encouragement from your seniors.”

Seungyoun hums. You glance over, and he meets your eyes, smiling.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You look away and walk out, gesturing to the hallway you stepped out into with pride. “This is where all of our studios are!”

Seungyoun chuckles. “I feel like I’m going somewhere top secret.”

You raise a brow at him. “You totally are. Pretty much our whole discography comes from that room right there.” you point to Jiseo’s door, which is plain and undecorated aside from the standard plate with her name on it.

“Where’s yours?” Seungyoun asks, walking leisurely a bit ahead of you.

“End of the hall,” you say, trailing him. “You can’t miss it.”

And indeed you can’t. Nobody can. Seungyoun definitely doesn’t.

He laughs, pointing at the door. “Yah, L/N Y/N! Who does this?”

“I’m not accepting criticism,” you tell him with an amused look. “I worked really hard on this door.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he says, shaking his head.

“You don’t like the balloon hands?” you ask, flicking one of the blown up plastic gloves that is taped to the door. “Or the distorted mirror?”

“Y/N-ah,” Seungyoun says, turning to you. He wipes his hands over his face, still laughing a little bit. “This might be the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. When did you have time for this?”

You shrug, pulling out the key from your bag. “I don’t know, it was when we first debuted. People kept knocking on the door and bothering me so I decided to make it creepy and hard to approach.”

You haven’t thought about how truly bizarre your studio door looks until now, and you’re kind of regretting showing Seungyoun, but, well, you can’t change things now. At least it’s funny, you hope.

“Anyway,” you say, opening the door. “It’s only weird on the outside.”

You lead him into your studio. You wouldn’t say you’re the most amazing interior decorator, but you do follow a lot of aesthetic pages on instagram, and have taken influence. It’s mostly white, with light wood accents, and a lot of knick-knacks and photos that have good memories.

“You can sit down wherever,” you tell Seungyoun, setting your purse down on the desk where your computer and other equipment are.

“It’s nice in here,” he says, looking around. He sits down on the small couch you have pressed against the wall.

“Thanks,” you smile, adjusting the framed picture of you and your group members that’s sitting on the desk. “Sorry it’s kind of cramped. Jiseo’s the only one who has a big room.”

Seungyoun shakes his head as you sit down in your computer chair, spinning around to face him. “No, I like it. It suits you.”

“...So,” you say, tugging at your fingers. You feel a little awkward alone with Seungyoun. He had said that it’d been a long time since just the two of you met up, but you honestly aren’t sure if you ever have. Vernon is the one who introduced you two, and in the beginning of yours and Seungyoun’s friendship, he tagged along a lot.

“I thought you said you wanted to do something fun next time we see each other,” you finally finish. “There’s not that much to do in here. I was just going to work on a melody for a track that Jiseo started a few weeks ago.”

Seungyoun shrugs. “Yeah, I guess I did say that, but I just wanted to see you.”

You try to hide your smile, heart racing as you subtly spin your chair back around to face the desk so Seungyoun can’t see the expression on your face. How can he just say things like that, nonchalantly? “Oh, well, thanks.”

“Play me the song!” he says, and you hear him stand up. Seungyoun leans on the desk, looking down at you. “I’m curious.”

“Alright,” you say quietly. Your heart is beating painfully fast with him so close to you, after he just said he wanted to see you, and the way his hair is falling over his forehead…

Shit. Focus.

You unlock your computer and open up the music program Jiseo works on (you just followed her lead on all this production stuff). “There’s no words or anything,” you tell Seungyoun as you connect the sound to your speakers, and press play.

It’s one of Jiseo’s simpler instrumentals- it begins with a low distorted vocal sample and some soft, pulsing chords. Then the beat comes in, the kind that hits right on the hits of the music, and sporadically after that, light bells and occasional piano decorating the atmosphere of the song. It’s slow enough to have a somewhat sensual vibe, but fast enough to keep your foot tapping along.

You play through the end of the first chorus, and then pause it, not wanting to bore Seungyoun as the song is a little repetitive without vocals.

“Pretty good, right?” you ask, leaning back in your chair and looking up at Seungyoun. His eyes are on the computer screen, trailing the different tracks showing in the music program.

Seungyoun hums, then reaches over you to the keyboard, tapping a few keys that pull up a menu on one of the instrument tracks. “I think it’ll sound better if the chords drop out right before the chorus, just for two counts. And a snare roll would work right at the drop, too…”

He adjusts things naturally, easily. You weren’t expecting Seungyoun to add some input to the song, but you can’t say no now that he’s leaned down right beside you, brows furrowed in concentration, a hand coming up every few seconds to push his hair back. You almost do it for him, but catch yourself before lifting your hand.

“Okay, listen to it now,” Seungyoun says, pressing the spacebar without moving. He’s looking at you, so you feel pressured to look away, instead pretending to watch the movement of the screen.

You nod once it finishes. “I like it.”

“Got a mic around here?” he asks, standing back up to his full height and glancing around. “I think you should sing a little. I’ll help you figure something out to add.”

“Are you sure?” you frown, not reaching for the mic that’s under the desk. “Oppa, this might not ever even make it on an album. You shouldn’t waste your time.”

He shrugs, smiling over his shoulder at you as he continues looking around. “Y/N-ah, we both love music. What’s more fun than doing something we love together?”

And, like always, you can’t turn him down.

#sorry that it's late- due to obvious recent events and also school #hope you guys dont mind and enjoy regardless!! your comments are always so motivating and i appreciate them so much #cho seungyoun x reader #kim wooseok x reader #x1 x reader #x1 imagines #x1 scenarios #x1 imagine #cho seungyoun #kim wooseok #x1 #x1 angst #x1 fluff #x1 au #fic #aaa

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lunar-bird · 3 years

Text

okay when i made this blog i was never gonna talk in depth about personal details but it's my personal blog and i need to fuckin vent

tw suicide mention , vague reference to sy//sc//ou//rse the suicide bit is mentioned (past tense, vague) but not a present risk, if this shows up in that second tag i'm gonna lose my goddamn mind, so help me. don't bring it to this post i do not care. i warn about it because i hate it.

so i was never Going to share this information, but it's context. im a system member of... questionable origins. there was some element of "imaginary friend becomes real" in the story of my life, but we've also been realizing that i just happened to pop in at, inarguably, the most traumatic point in our life, so it's just. whatever.

i don't CARE, except that we've been discussing finding a new therapist and also how, exactly, we're supposed to talk about me. we don't have a diagnosis because our previous one supported us in our "actually this is not causing me distress so i don't want it pathologized" mindset (and we still don't necessarily want to pursue one, for various personal reasons) but if we're gonna get a therapist im gonna fuckin talk to them as myself because i have problems that need solving, too. so it's been something to think about. don't know the chances of finding someone who's gonna be cool about it, never tried. it's stressing me out.

i spent half my fucking life being told "you exist whether or not people believe you're real and regardless of where you came from" and the other half being told "you can't be real because you don't fit x y or z criteria" and i'm so. done with it. i don't care anymore WHY or HOW i exist because, unfortunately, i do!! trust me, we've tried to just believe me out of existence, tried to just be like "okay, i've served my purpose, i can fuck off" but i'm stuck here! would give literally anything to get out of this head and be a Real Boy but here we are. this blog was originally a chance to let me try: just one space where i'm me and only me and implied to actually exist outside of my stupid head.

nothing against max, he's my best fucking friend, but i don't know if we would even like each other if i wasn't stuck with him. i mean, we would -- it's not to say that we don't genuinely care about each other -- but i just don't think we would have ever met. and i think i'm too much like people he hates now anyway, cause i went and absorbed their traits while we were still friends with them. i don't know. i'm mad that i don't get the chance to find out, though. i'm not kidding when i say i'd give anything i have to exist separately, but instead i'm stuck here and i have to make do with just... sometimes interacting with people who are friends with him first and me because they're trustworthy enough to know about me.

i can't go out and meet new people, i don't get to decide what kind of people i would be friends with if i had the chance, i don't get to decide what kind of community i would build on my own. i don't want to spend my whole life this closely connected to anyone. i want some form of independence. instead i spend my whole life thinking "if someone knows the truth of me, will they automatically dismiss me as fake or fucked up?" really gets in the way of my personal relationships.

thus, therapist.

i'm also terrified that whoever we talk to is going to suck. i'm obviously going to try to present the facts of my life as truthfully as possible, but i'm afraid that anyone with experience in these things is going to try to diagnose me with something i don't want to be diagnosed with. or that i'll be dismissed as a symptom of max's psychosis, regardless of the fact that i exist even when max is medicated and doing well. or that max's life will be prioritized over mine, even if i get the courage to speak for myself and we're both willing to make changes so that i can actually live. it takes a lot to actually be honest with what my life is and how i feel about it, and the risk that i'll be told im a problem to be medicated against.

i know max is lookin out for the same things i am, and i know he actually cares and wants to help me actually enjoy my life. we both know i'm here to stay, and not just because max still needs someone to talk him into living. we're about as healthy as we've ever been, plus or minus a few symptoms, and quarantine has given me a lot of time to think and i know we both want to actually make my life worthwhile for me if i'm stuck with it. it's just a matter of. how. we need outside advice for that.

i've tried to get my own hobbies, i've tried to make my own spaces on the internet where only i exist, i've tried to make my own friends, but i'm just shit at it. i don't know where to start. i have interests that max does not have, but generally if we do things we do them together. our shared interests are great! lately we've been reading together, and sometimes we watch movies! i just wish i also got to do things on my own. people weren't made to be with other people 100% of the time. now neither of us gets to be alone in our heads for even a second. max has a paranoia that he's constantly being watched and judged and i don't exactly help, considering i see everything he ever does. i want literally nothing in the world more than to be alone sometimes, but, (gestures at all of me). i figure if a professional can't help, nobody can.

here at the end i just want to add a disclaimer that like... i don't hate my life. i care very deeply for all the friends i do have, and especially the ones who interact with me intentionally. i had one person the other day ask max specifically about how i was doing, without just assuming that i'm always watching in the background and where it wasn't even necessary that i be mentioned, and i've never appreciated anything more than the implication that i exist to other people when i'm not there. i just want a chance to make all of the stuff i'm stuck with actually work for me, in a way that makes me happy i exist.

i dont know how to do it, and i started out frustrated about it but now i'm just tired. i would like help. we just have to find someone who i can trust and who i'm not afraid of and maybe i can finally make some goddamn progress for once.

#a thought #i told max 'i'm going to fucking swear in this and you cannot censor me' and then i did #count that a win and know that in my normal life im cursing up a storm cause im ANGY #(picture of a very small bird with very large angry eyebrows)#getting this out helped me a lot and i'm gonna save it for future therapy reference lmao #like this if you read it but if you have something to say to me about it say it privately please. stay out of my notes #i have discord and tumblr has its terrible little messaging thing #if you happen to HAVE advice i am open to it. especially if u have experience with this sort of thing #the therapy search or the other thing #also if you've ever in your life acknowledged me... thanks lmao. means a lot.

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

In Our Bedroom After The War

[Broadway Kids]

Prompt: “Fuck what they think. I respect you and if they don’t, I’ll break their knees.”

Word count: 2944

-----------------------

Tommy can’t quite remember when Carrie stopped speaking. Some people said it was in the third grade after she brought that Bible to school and started praying in the middle of lunch, others said after the Christian Youth Camp incident and she swallowed so much water that she “permanently clogged her vocal cords” or something stupid. Whatever happened, something had made Carrie White go silent, and she’s been a target of mockery since.

Deaf and dumb. That’s what the other kids liked to call her. But she isn’t deaf, Tommy knows, because she always reacts to what is said about her with great offense and pain, and she certainly isn’t dumb because Tommy has seen her grades when her report cards are stolen and passed around by bullies. She’s a smart girl, very smart. If anything, he was the dumb one, because the amount of times he’s almost given away their little get-togethers was unbelievable.

It started a month into the school year, he believed. He went into senior year, while Carrie just started high school. He can’t quite remember what caused them to start meeting up in the hidden bathroom under the staircase in the C hall stair well, and he’ll admit that he had never imagined himself hanging out with the city’s resident freak and actually enjoy it, but he would seriously miss their reclusive meetings every Friday after school if they were to ever stop.

Today in particular was very special. 1) because he was finally going to try and teach Carrie about video games (she was fourteen! she should at least know the basics like Pokemon and Mario!) and 2) he had noticed that Carrie seemed a little off the past week and he wanted to ask her about it.

When you saw someone like Carrie White, you would assume that she was constantly in a state of anxiety and depression, but Tommy has learned to pick up on little ticks she does over time. Like how lately, she’s been tugging on her hair and biting her knuckles more often, something she only does if something is really bothering her. Because of their social status in the high school hierarchy, he was never able to ask her if she was alright, so non verbal forms of communication would have to do until their weekly meetup.

There’s the way he tried to avoid letting her out of sight, and if it isn’t that, then it's the way they move around each other in natural synchronicity in the hallway, like celestial bodies that have been caught in orbit for millennia. It's the way he makes excuses to walk alone to class just to make sure she doesn’t get any trouble on the way to her own. It's the silent conversations, an inquisitive look (“You okay?”) answered by a minute nod (“All good.”). It’s everything he wishes he had done for her before his final year of high school.

He tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how Carrie would soon be all alone again after he graduates. Tried not to think about what would happen to her when he isn’t there as her silent guardian. Tried not to think about how sad he would be without seeing her every day anymore.

Tommy slipped inside the bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible to avoid alerting anyone who may have been lurking around, and turned to face the rest of the space. Carrie is sitting at the sink counter on one of two stools Tommy had smuggled in there for them. She turned her head to look at him sideways, but she’s still got her nose buried in a sketchbook, which she still hasn't let him look at. He wondered what she's drawing. Maybe it's a treasure map. Or a secret code. Or that deer they saw earlier. Or him.

“The party has arrived!” Tommy has announced, his voice rebounding loudly off of the silent bathroom walls. He dropped his backpack on the floor, unlike Carrie had done, as hers was hung up on one of the hooks on the wall.

Carrie finally put her pencil down and swiveled around completely in her stool to smile at him. She doesn’t show any teeth with her grin, and it’s slightly wry, but it’s a smile nonetheless and Tommy is honored to get such a thing from her. He examined her quickly, luckily finding no new wounds from bullying, then crossed over. She hastily closed her sketchbook.

“One day,” He said. “One day I will see your masterpiece.”

Carrie gave him an apologetic look, her smile becoming a little more tight. She grabbed a nearby whiteboard to write on, but stopped when Tommy waved a hand.

“No, no,” He said. “No need for that! I’ve been doing really well in my ASL class- you can sign to me!”

Carrie looked skeptical, but Tommy doesn’t miss the flash of excitement in her warm honey eyes. It’s not often that someone understands her when she uses sign language.

“Come on, I’m smarter than I look! Don’t doubt my abilities to learn a new language!”

Carrie nodded. She held up her hands, shaking down the frayed sleeves of her shirt, and began to sign.

“What (something) we (something) today?”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t AS fluent as he thought, but Carrie looked so much more comfortable being able to sign! He could just use his context clues!

“Something very fun!” Tommy assured her. He took out his phone and turned on a playlist that they’ve been progressively adding more and more songs to (with Carrie having to write hers down and give the list to him, seeing as she didn’t own any electronics). You can tell who added what like this: if it’s Christian related or something grungy-chill, Carrie probably added it; if it has folk music vibes and/or a lot of acoustic guitars, it was probably Tommy, surprisingly enough; if it just generally sounds like it’s ripped from an indie movie, it’s kind of a toss up.

He took out the Nintendo Switch he got last Christmas next and set it up on the sink counter. Carrie tilted her head at it as if it were a peculiar flower that had just sprouted out of the porcelain countertop.

“Ever played before?” Tommy asked, although he already knew the answer.

“No. (something) I’ve seen (something) (something).”

“You’ve seen it before?” Tommy repeated, guessing just by the way Carrie had pointed to her eyes.

Carrie nodded.

“Well, now you get to play it!” Tommy beamed at her and she smiled back, but it seems a little forced. Something is definitely on her mind- he’ll have to ask once she’s a little more relaxed. “Hmm… How about Minecraft?”

“M-I-N-E-C-R-A-F-T. I’ve heard (something) (something).”

“It’s fun!” Tommy assured her, selecting the game. “Trust me, you’ll like it.” He put the controllers in her hands and she rubs her thumbs over the rubber protectors. “So the main goal is surviving,” He went on. “There's a lot of objectives actually, but surviving is always the first one. Once you get used to it, you can play in Survival mode and start making a good base and start getting tools and armor and stuff, then you can move on to other objectives. But for now you can just play in Creative. What should we name the world?”

Carrie thought for a few moments, and Tommy could practically see all the random names cycling through her brain. After a moment, she signed, “(something)”

Tommy blinked.

“One more time.”

“(something)”

“Can you fingerspell it, please?”

“V-E-N-U-S.”

“Oh! Venus! We haven’t learned planets yet.” Tommy said. “Wait- Venus?”

“V-E-N-U-S (something) (something) (something) cool place (something) live.”

Tommy laughed. “Can’t argue with that logic!” He helped Carrie type in the name and clicked through a couple of other settings before hitting “create world”. Within a few moments the world was up and running. Carrie’s character was off in no time, exploring the blocky landscape and sifting through her colorful inventory, although her movements were sporadic and jerky since it was her first time playing.

Decorating the base was by far Carrie’s favorite part. There were so many different flowers for the outside and wood types for flooring and even COLORED glass. The only thing that would make it better was if you could have animals and OH MY GOODNESS YOU COULD HAVE ANIMALS!!!!!!!!

For a moment, Tommy debated just leaving Carrie there and allowing her to design the base and play around however she wanted, but he couldn't. He was so worried that someone may waltz in and see her in the boy’s bathroom and then do something to her. Carrie being nearly drowned in one of the toilets, Carrie getting her head smashed against the sink counter, Carrie being raped, Carrie getting beaten into a bloody pulp- so many horrible scenarios forced their way into his head. Carrie getting her throat slit, Carrie getting her body stuffed in the air vent, Carrie getting sodomized with a mop stick.

Why? Why were kids so cruel to her? Why couldn’t Tommy protect her from everything? Why does he know he can’t?

There was a soft touch on his hand and he jolted out of his thoughts. Carrie flinched away, too, then signed something he couldn’t understand, but knew she was asking if he was okay by the pinched expression on her face.

“I’m okay,” He assured her. “Just thinking.”

She made the gesture of “what” and tilted her head. Then she pointed to herself.

About me?

“Yeah,” Tommy admitted.

That made Carrie’s nose scrunch up in a giggle.

“Don’t (something) S-U-E know.”

“If you think that I would cheat on my girlfriend with a fish, then you are very much wrong.” Tommy said. “What about you? What’s been on your mind?”

Carrie put the Switch controllers down and shrugged her shoulders. She began to play with the cuff of her sleeve, not really making eye contact anymore.

“Come on,” Tommy urged. “You can tell me!”

“People,” Carrie signed vaguely.

“People?” Tommy echoed. “People being rude to you?”

Carrie shrugged again, and it was clear she didn’t really want to talk about this anymore, nor did she seem to be in a mood to continue playing. Tommy packed up the Nintendo Switch and paused their shared playlist. He gave Carrie her backpack and they started to walk out of the school in mutual silence.

“Sorry,” Tommy said as they neared the parking lot. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Carrie shook her head, then signed, “You didn’t. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Well if it isn’t praying Carrie!”

Carrie went rigid, like she had been struck by lightning. She stopped mid-step and didn’t move as a group of seniors trot over, their faces alight with mischief and cruelty.

“Ross!” One of them called. “What are you doing with this freak?”

“Is she holding you hostage?” Another guessed, casting a look at Carrie.

“I bet she’s leading him out to his car to force him to let her ride him.” A third said. The group howled with diseased laughter at that. Tommy is appalled. Carrie looked ill. “Is that it, church girl? The need for sex has finally broken into you and you’re ready to sin?”

“Back off!” Tommy growled, shoving the boy away. He put himself between him and Carrie, becoming a barricade of sorts. “Leave her alone.”

“I wonder how loud she’ll moan,” A fourth member of the group mused.

“Can she even moan?” The second wondered out loud.

“If you plowed into her hard enough I bet she’ll make some sort of sound.” The first said.

Carrie darted left and sprinted for the nearby line of trees edging the campus. Tommy glared at the group of seniors, then followed, concerned.

The darkness of the forest quickly closes around them. Carrie is fast on her feet, but Tommy was an athlete and he caught up quickly. He snagged the back of her jacket in a loose grip. They stumbled together over uneven ground and exposed tree roots until Carrie collapsed in a hollow between two moss-covered rocks. Tommy slotted himself in front of her so that she’s shielded from all sides- the rocks and Tommy forming a barrier from the world.

He said nothing. He listened to the girl’s gasping breaths and knew that it’s nothing that words can cure- not anymore. Not after years of having no one, being stabbed in the back and spoon fed lies. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the rustling of oak leaves, the distant calls of birds, the persistent harmony of crickets.

He wondered what Carrie used to ground herself.

He wondered if she grounded herself at all.

Slowly, softly, Carrie calmed to some degree. It comes faster than Tommy expected, but he assumed that’s just because she’s grown used to the treatment she gets. She shifted, wiggling her shoes beneath Tommy’s thigh. Tommy doesn’t shift. He won’t leave until she does.

“It’s okay,” He finally whispered. “I’m here. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Carrie whimpered and made a sloppy gesture- Why?

“Because I care about you.” Tommy said. “Fuck what they think. I respect you and if they don’t, I’ll break their knees.”

He wanted to make her laugh or smile or at least stop crying, but Carrie just whimpered again. She swiveled around to face him, eyes flashing with tears.

“Why?” She signed again, sniffling miserably.

“We’re friends.” Tommy told her. “You know that, don’t you?” The look he got said that she didn’t believe it. “Come on. Tell me some things you know about me. You’d be surprised how well you know me.”

Carrie hesitated, then began to sign, “Your name is Tommy Ross.” She winced at how bland it was, but Tommy only nodded, brushing a bit of his dark brown hair out of his eyes. Carrie’s face scrunched up like she’s memorizing her timestaple in front of him, struggling to bring that gridded mess of numbers to mind.

“You’re the tallest (something) (something) everyone (something) your team,” She continued. The sky overhead is eye-wateringly blue, with crisply white cotton clouds scudding along the horizon. A light breeze shakes the leaves of a nearby oak tree that has the initials of some high school sweethearts carved into the base of its trunk. They’re a little crooked from where someone’s hand had slipped, the flat of a switchblade arcing a little too close to the bark, and making a J thicker, almost a U when you looked at it dead on.

“That’s right,” Tommy said. He knows his role here is only background noise. That’s his job, whether Carrie knows it or not, and he’s more than happy to fulfill it. He doesn’t mind being subject to the scrutiny of befriending ol’ praying Carrie because of it. Not if it’s what she needs to feel better.

“Your eyes (something) like a (something) green-brown, (something) (something) like slimy algae. You always have (something) stupid red sports jacket on. Your sneakers (something) (something) white, once upon a time.” She managed to tease him, uttering out a tiny giggle.

“What can I say, Carrie, I’m a filthy gremlin, like all boys are-” He joked, and she swatted him lightly on the arm. She bit back a laugh, and Tommy wished that she wouldn’t- Carrie tips her head back when she laughs, unabashed and on the edge of hysterical, giggling and snorting, shoulders shaking with mirth until she’s brought her gaze back down again, cheeks flushed from the exertion of being host to that much joy despite everything that she’s been through. No one holds the weight of trauma and mistreatment as heavily on their shoulders as Carrie White does- Carrieta, the library to all of those scattered instances of would-be’s-could-be’s-shouldn’t-be’s. And still, there is a smidge joy. It’s beautiful. He thought that she’s most beautiful when she’s laughing (don’t tell Sue, and if you do, make sure you let her know it’s completely platonic. but just don’t tell her at all).

“You have, like, (something) favorite red shirt, with a light brown hood on it. And S-U-E thinks it’s hideous.” Carrie continued. She’s tapping her foot against his leg, a gentle soothing gesture, and he lets her. He knew that it’s more for herself than him.

“You have a golden ring (something) onto a necklace.” Carrie signed. “But you don’t wear it (something) you think it (something) you look silly. But it’s really pretty.” Pause, and when she signed again, it wasn't about the necklace anymore. “It’s (something) (something) like having a sibling.” Pause. Carrie looked up at him with glittering eyes. “You’re Tommy Ross.”

The weight that she placed on his name makes his heart stutter, catching in his chest- the warmth that he felt towards her is almost unbearable, and he found himself grinning, mouth gone crooked in the gesture.

“I’m Tommy Ross, that’s right,” He repeated to her, as if they’re introducing themselves at some shitty college icebreaker. “And I’m not going anywhere, Carrie.” He went on, a touch of urgency in his voice- and she smiles, eyes closing, though hers are more reserved than his, somehow. There’s a tear bright in the corner of her right eye, and it traced a thin path down her face. More come. They pool at her chin, dripping off of her face, and soaking into the softness of the earth. His chest ached.

“And you’re not going anywhere,” She whispered, voice hitching a little halfway through. He swiped a thumb over her cheek, flicked the tear off into the green grass behind them.

“I’m not,” He promised. “I’m not leaving you, Carrie.” And his voice had gone soft, her name cradled gently in his mouth, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.

#it hurts because carrie kills tommy in the musical #dont tag as ship or I WILL pee in your sink #carrie #carrie the musical #broadway kids carrie #carrie white #tommy ross #carrie fanfiction #my writing

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asktherexsquad · 5 years

Text

Capture!

Rocket, Rex, and Rem finally manage to snag that form-stealing alien!! Time to figure out what the hell it wants...

The trio cautiously approaches the cage, Rocket leading the way. "... The cage was triggered, but I'm not seeing anythi--wait, there!" He points to the vague outline of a body. Then it moved, and became easier to see. Seems the creature was disguised as Rem.

"Oh! We got it!!" Rem crouches down. *... Hi, there...."*

The alien in the cage keeps itself as low to the ground as possible. As it stares up at them in alarm, its eyes shift, its pupils now shaped like someone tried to write a W while drunk, its fins appearing. It moved slightly away from Rem, trying to hide in the corner of the cage.

Rem swallows hard, his comforting smile slipping slightly. It's really unnerving to see your own face suddenly distort like that. "... Right... So, uhm, mind if we ask what you're doing on our ship?"

Rocket and Rex glance at one another, silently agreeing. If this thing doesn't start talking, they're going to step in.

"...." It pauses, then speaks using Rem’s voice. "I climbed on one of your drones as a.... larva and it took me here" Its voice strained slightly on the last part.

Rem nods. "I see."

He looks up at Rocket and Rex with a smile. "See? No harm! They came in here accidentally!" He turns back to the alien, much less nervous now. "So how can we help you? Is there somewhere we should bring you?... Here, before you answer that, do you promise not to attack if we let you out?"

"... I wont attack you two." It points at Rem and Rocket "I dunno about where to live, I've always swam in the water tanks of this ship."

Rex gags. Rocket swallows hard, looking slightly faint.

Rem looks nauseated, but tries hard to keep the smile on his face. "R... Right. Erm... .... How about this? You and Rex promise not to hurt each other, and then we let you out, and figure out together what to do?"

"Sure... ahem no more talking .... Human speak- speech is har-hard on my voice box"

"But no need to open the cage." Without warning, its head slips through the bars.

"Okay, no need to tal--YIPE!!" Rem yelps and tumbles backwards onto his butt in shock. Rocket and Rex both take a step back, equally startled.

Rocket recovers first, giving the creature a thumbs up. "... Rad..."

"No bones." Its body twists and turns as it slips the rest of itself through the bars.

Rem covers his eyes, highly unsettled at the sight of his "own body" doing something so bizarre. Rocket watches in a kind of morbid curiosity. Rex just looks uneasy.

Rocket suddenly elbows Rex. "... Rex. The deal."

"... Uh. Ah, right." He watches, arms crossed, as the creature straightens. "... I promise I won't do anything to hurt you, if you promise to do the same."

"... Yeah" It flaps ear fins. It still mostly looks like Rem… despite some… fishy qualities.

"I need to go to my swimming tank"

Rem peeks through his fingers. "... Wait, uh, we have an actual swimming pool, can we continue this conversation there?... Not in the water tanks??"

"Take me."

Rem sighs in relief. "This way!" He stands, glancing over his shoulder to make sure everyone is following him, and starts heading in the direction of the pool. The Rexes bring up the rear.

The alien follows, making quiet, inhuman noises.

They arrive soon, they hadn't been too far away, and Rem gestures proudly to the water. "There you go! Hop in!"

The creature jumps right in, and its skin changes. It blossoms with a variety of colors, complete with glowing spots… though it still looks like Rem.

"... Huh, polka dots is a good look on you, Rem." Rocket grins.

"Har har." Rem sits at the edge, removing his shoes, rolling up his pants, and letting his legs dip into the water. "So! You have no idea what your home planet is?"

"No, was born on that rock thinking 'I’m going to die here' as there was no way for me to survive... then... well you know" It gestures around the room. "This happened."

Rem looks surprised at that. "..... You mean to say... That we did saved you?"

"How the hell did you end up there anyway...? I mean, there's no way you could have known, but... I've never heard of an alien that starts its life on a comet." Rocket shakes his head, bemused. "You're a real mystery, friend."

"Dunno, but now I'm here with you and Rem" It does a few tricks in the water, clearly more comfortable now that it wasn’t on land.

Rem laughs, applauding. "Well, you're a very talented swimmer!!"

Rex pulls Rocket aside, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "We're /not/ keeping this thing, are we??”

"What do you suggest we do with them, then?"

"Find the nearest planet with a sustainable body of water and let it go!!"

"We both know that's a shitty plan."

"Let's see you come up with a better idea, then. ...And it better not be that we keep it."

Rocket glances back at the pool. "... Seems harmless enough. Don't see the harm in keeping them around, might be a good non-raptor addition to the crew."

Rex scowls.

They turn to see that both Rem and the alien were watching them in amusement

It sticks its “tongue” out at Rex.

Rex makes a face back at it.

Rocket and Rem both chuckle at the exchange.

After a moment Rem speaks up again. "Well... What do you have to say about all this?" Rem tilts his head. "What is it you want to do?"

"I'll stick around a bit, I probably won't leave the pool much now that I know I'm not in any danger, it was fun watching you all from the vents as I was younger though."

Rocket snickers. "Oh, I bet..." he mutters.

"Would you mind if we visited?... at least, you need us to bring you food or anything?" Rem asks.

"Yeah!" Ear fin wiggling

"Sounds good!"

"Let me guess... Meat, right?" Rocket muses to himself 'And that solves another mystery....'

"Yes," the creature confirms.

"All right, twice a day, when the Raptors get fed, we'll bring some down to you too, a'ight?”

"Oh! And I can teach you how to use the pager command on the control panels if you ever need us for anything!"

"Oh I know how to mostly..."

"Wait, really? Huh! You're real smart too!" Rem beams proudly.

"Yeah I may have learned some stuff from watching you guys."

"That's fair!... I'm definitely glad to hear you aren't out to, like... Eat us or anything.... Heh......"

"Meh it never came to that, food was unlimited."

".... Hahahahahaha!!.... That was a joke, right?"

"Nope" The alien gave a genuine, benevolent smile.

".... Rad...!" Rem gives him a weak thumbs up, innocuously pulling his feet out of the water.

Rocket speaks up next. "Well, before we part ways, <gotta go fix up the control room after all...> what should we call you?"

"Ah...." It shrugs. "Not sure, always went with whom ever I was pretending to be."

"Then... How about... We call you..... RJ? Like... Rem-Rocket-Rex Junior?"

Rocket snorts with laughter. Rem flushes. Naming wasn't one of his strong suits….

"Ok Arjey, then"

Rem brightens, nodding happily. "RJ it is!"

RJ flips out of the water, earning another round of delighted applause from Rem.

M!A: end

#co-written by ShadowFear-Art!#M!A: Unexpected Visitor #M!A: end #Rocket Rex #Rem Brickowski #Alt Rex #RJ #Rex Squad AU

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didsomeonesayventus · 4 years

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ESSAY TIME I love a ship please come hang out w/ me on this dinghy or like. dont because fates is awful and I can’t blame u for dodging that bullet but i just wanna scream because i love them and they’re the fixation rn so 321 GO

i cant blame anyone for not really seeing this because their support is. Ok. Its alright. Not amazing, it’s serviceable, better options are out there in fates I'll concede. Corrin has like. At least 3 other love interests who feel more canon LMAO but this isn’t about them

It's more from elsewhere in their characterization that really made me adore them and, as I mentioned in tags, a lot of this comes from how I write them which. Is largely filed under rp stuff right now but more ramble time on how i write them i guess dont forget to mark your free bingo space for throwing out large swaths of fates canon and writing. Also we're scooting their canon support gently to the side because it’s ok it’s not the most offensive writing this nightmare scrap heap of canon has to offer but a massive missed opportunity.

PART 1- One (1) Corn, With a Side of Emotional Neglect

*makes vague gesture at Disney's Rapunzel* Corrin would have been so much better recieved if the devs just took some notes from you instead of writing such a flat character i swear.

Corrin in particular with how I write her is getting a pretty massive rework in the emotionally stable department because honestly I don’t believe she would be. like. She's not dumb, but she is naive, important distinction, and it ends up coloring her views a lot and I have a ramble on that over here on the inverse graph that is Corrin’s confidence but to dissect where her attitudes came from:

Her family was limited to visits, and she has been directly/implicitly blamed for this for roughly a decade and a half, at least a decade, by not being an insane king's definition of strong enough to be with them. Bad memory makes her frail, swordsmanship isn’t up to par, doesn’t seem to offer much else in terms of skills unlike Xander, a Certified Badass(tm), Magic-oriented Leo and Elise, and Magically gifted but just plain ruthless Camilla. She’s held at arm’s length from her family, and while her siblings may have always loved her and expressed that love as often as they could, they’re not always there or a good yardstick to measure her progress with, and she had to always watch them go and likely wonder when they would come back, or if they even would.

As for our beloved butler and maids, being surrounded by servants was probably her most constant and consistent source of contact, and she does love them, but it can be very easy to wonder if they love her because they do or because it's their job to.

Corrin's faith in everyone around her and unwavering trust is there because any sort of doubt is basically redirected to. her. Because she is the dumbass who's still figuring the world out. She's hyper aware she's still learning and making naive decisions and she overcompensates that with "well what do I know" and not feeling really all that worthy to be Special Protagonist. She doubts herself before almost everything else.

Brief mention of Dragon arc because fates was dumb and neglected an entire arc for dragon feelings beyond chapter 5 and foreshadowing for Dad(tm) but I also write in an arc of the Dragon Is A Metaphor For Loving Yourself Faults And Trauma And All Love Yourself And You Can Control Yourself Dammit.

*Corrin hurt herself in her confusion!*

The way I write Corrin is not nearly as put together and confident as Canon™️ Corrin is, at least for a good chunk of the plot. She fakes it till she makes it because she is a leader and being mopey will not get things done but she’s also very self critical and mopey on the inside and quite paranoid that people don’t actually like being around her and just. ball of stress and anxious hidden under Many a uwu that she doesn’t want to talk about because why should she complain her childhood wasn’t That Bad and if she’s mopey how can she set a good example and people don’t like debbie downers and look its fine its fine lmao

PART 2- Mr. Perfect

As for Mr. Subaki he puts a lot of time and effort into looking perfect. I emphasize that because he may very well have natural talent, but honestly it feels like a large amount of his perfection is just. Stressing himself out by planning for and rehearsing everything possible! God this anxious idiot I love him!!! He's sociable and agreeable, but I think with basically everyone it’s. Skin deep. He’s charismatic Enough, and he digs a bit into the other’s history and personality if he’s interested, but he never really lets the other reciprocate like a magician never revealing his fraudulent secrets.

Biggest problem with that is he can't open up and vent because that is to admit a flaw and no no cant have that we cannot have that so he's just. Not sure who to turn to and has trouble being emotionally honest- even to himself. He just! Doesnt let himself have fun or relax; all perfect all the time baby. There’s basically no one who he could consider a close and trusted friend who can love him flaws and all. The closest would be Sakura and Hana and welp. gotta keep things professional and it’s not like Hana really expresses a sense of understanding and patience when they’re fiercely competitive with each other.

There’s probably a lot of muttering to his pegasus while he’s cleaning her hooves or braiding her mane, or staying up late thinking about how narrowly disaster was and wasn’t avoided that day but he. Also doesn’t really vent and also feels that imposter syndrome of “I’m honestly awful how did I even make it here.”

and it stinks because I think at his core he is a very sweet and caring guy and a massive dork, but he just plops himself on the edge of a pedestal and gives himself no room to be himself or anything less than perfect and is likely on the cusp of impending burnout.

you dumb anxious idiot i have S-Ranked you every fucking time I open this godforsaken game I didn’t even fucking plan for this

PART 3- (Patrick Warburton impression) “Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.”

So our characters and stage are set. We got FE Fates (I’ll default to Rev), we got my views when writing these two, so what next? What is the general plot I imagine since we’ve gently scooted aside the canon support chain?

The dumbasses-to-be think they’re out of each other’s league.

For Subaki, it is plot-irrelevant background character falling in love with the protagonist, which yields the exact sort of pining you’d imagine: man you are super cool and hit all my standards but I’d be dreaming if you felt the same about me. She’s sweet, she takes charge, she can fight for herself well enough, has he mentioned she’s sweet? He can actually relax a bit around her which is really odd but I guess that’s what happens when your personal skill is literally called “Supportive”. Oh yeah and also his Lady’s older sister which oof. Sakura? In law???? Hinoka in law???? Takumi in law?????????? ryoma in law oh gods.

For Corrin, it’s Mr. Prince Charming right there and he’s very nice and Sakura is saying so many nice things about him but wow she’s. a princess from a country that has consistently terrorized his and on top of that might a well have been raised under a rock!!! And she picks up details and nuances in people remarkably well, but she overthinks them. She can pick up that Subaki- while very polite and friendly -isn’t being entirely forthcoming about what he’s thinking or feeling, but she can’t pin down exactly what it is, and makes the educated guess that he's just being nice because she’s Sakura’s sister or something.

And they’re friendly. They help each other out a bit. There’s tension, sure, but no one really comments on it (except for everyone making bets in the bg). They don’t really yield on their internal messes because Corrin knows she’s a leader and can’t really do that and distracts herself with believing in everyone around her, Subaki just flat out would rather do literally anything besides admit he’s messed up anywhere or open up. So feeling are put on a low simmer for awhile.

Of course they fall in love, and it almost gets messed up because when Subaki requests to talk with her in private to confess, she immediately assumes he’s going to tell her that he’s not interested. Her simmer roars into a boil because she’s been under Protagonist Stress ON TOP OF having a crush she’s confident won’t be reciprocated, so she snaps quite a bit because that has all been shoved in a bottle and she just wants to get the mess over with if he’s just going to tell her very nicely that her company is lovely but hes not interested it hurts a lot to think that but its fine you don’t have to settle.

But the thing is being emotionally vulnerable like that, pointing out she’s scared too of always not being enough and living up to expectations, to finally get that off her chest, spurs him into it, too. Because she gets it. She honest to god gets it even if she bought into the lie he’s perfect she understands. Oh, yeah, she also reciprocates feelings that’s really excellent too. Like Subaki probably makes a lot of fuss about a bunch of ultimately meaningless details and having “standards” and yadda yadda gods help whatever poor soul asks him to pull out the list of traits of his ideal partner, but I think at the end of the day if he’s looking for love most of all, like a lot of people he just wants someone who he can just. be himself around. Who likes it when he’s being himself!

And they both learn that yeah maybe they’re more flawed than they’ve been lead to believe, but it starts to not matter at all because they still try really hard and everyone makes mistakes. They’re both here to say it’s ok your best is enough, YOU are enough. They both think they’re amazing regardless of their mistakes and love to see each other smiling and succeeding and just make. a nice little bubble of comfort. They’re stubborn and supportive, they learn how to poke and prod the bad moods away be it making a nice cup of matcha and talking it out or laughing at a tiny, meaningless mistake and repeating it to keep that feeling of dread away. Also they both spoil their partners regardless of who they end up with you can’t @ me on that they both do it which means guess what mega spoil time. And long hair on both just means they can braid each other’s hair no problem... waaaaaa.... Also early rise Subaki and late rise Corrin so there’s always a sleepy fight in the morning because UGH this is early you keep saying i’ll get used to it but im not i need a kiss first if you want me to be up this early. Subaki is better at logic and planning than Corrin, and Corrin keeps things optimistic and has a good gut for when to take an improvised risk. They’re always swapping places on who’s holding the other back from a fight that isn’t worth it because some asshole insulted the other, they mediate each other and will fight anyone who even harms a hair on the other’s head. They give and they give back and they work together perfectly.

And when it comes to the kids that bubble expands and they make sure they all have the tools to just take a deep breath and remember it’s okay Mama and Papa love you so much and you’re going to be amazing no matter what you do. Corrin’s got the best stories to tell and Subaki tucks the blankets in just right. They’re good parents with a lot of patience and plenty of mental health wisdom which is good because, as my mom would say, “bad brain chemistry is my bad”.

Like UGH I love them. I love them a lot. A good chunk of this is me making canon better thank me fates devs

Part 4- Katie All of This is Out of Your Noggin What About Canon

(DBZ abridged vc) WHAT ABOUT CANON but ok here have some canon quotes

“The two spent the rest of their lives together. Corrin ruling as the wise Queen of Valla. Subaki adapted quickly to royal leadership and became a great source of support for his wife. “ - Revelation route ending

“I feel like the pressure's off when I'm with you. I don't have to be perfect.” “You'll never be lonely as long as I'm around. Just call me and I'll come running.” - Friendship bonding quotes but also consider waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

“This might sound corny, but I think you're my soulmate.” - What he says when he is married to you and yes that is corny and its perfect

hot spring is dumb fanservice BUT if you can get the good RNG to get them both in there “A shared bath warms not just my bones, but my heart as well.” “I-I suppose so...I just wonder if it's right to be so happy...” (emphasis mine) IT ABSOLUTELY IS BE HAPPY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

also one of his quotes when u stop by your quarters is "Ah, welcome home, dear. Kick off those shoes and relax. You're with me now!" and you absolute himbo your wife doesn’t fucking wear shoes!!!!!!!!!

Part 5- I’m done I’ve yelled into the void good night enjoy a ship please be excited for the fic I have on the backburner that I will get out there one of these days but I want it to be perfect so RIP me I guess

#katie rambles #long post #in case read more fucks up on mobile

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