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arafilez · 3 months

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☆ ⼂ MEDICINES AND KISSES ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜[ pjm x fem!reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤfluff, angst 𓏧 jimin feels if you can't solve his jealousy, food can. even if it is an old lasagna which can get him food poisoning. ㅤ warnings food poisoning, vomiting ㅤ﹢ㅤ1.5k wc

“For the last time Jimin he is my friend and co-worker, why do you overthink everything?” you spoke in a calm voice trying to hide the frustration in your voice. For the last half an hour Jimin had been continuously arguing with you about your male co-worker who had mildly flirted with you in front of Jimin.

You didn’t think about it much deeply and just smiled along and seeing that Jimin has been boiling in jealousy. As soon as you reached home Jimin took up that topic and you have been arguing since, neither of you backing down from it. “You did not stop him, that is what is triggering me,” he said sighing loudly.

“Why do you care so much anyways, you don’t have feelings for me, remember that?" You reason, hands on your hips.

"We are arranged, Jimin as both of us have signed a piece of paper, go on and sign another paper, we get divorced, there’s no in-between!” You said and put your hands up in defeat, not in the mood to argue any more with him.

Jimin’s head hurt remembering at your words, the phrase ‘a single piece of paper’ going over his mind repeatedly. “You know what, nether am I,” he gritted his teeth and you slumped back on the sofa frustrated by his behaviour. “See there you go again, we are arguing on a point that doesn’t even matter now.”

Jimin stayed quiet silently letting your words process in his mind as he saw you getting up from the corner of his eye. You got up the stairs, to your shared bedroom and took out your pillow and a duvet. Flapping your slippers you went to the kitchen to get some water as your throat has dried after all that fight.

“We are going to talk this out, okay? We are not going to just fight like some toxic couple in high school,” you said breathing out as you looked down turning towards him. “Yeah, I guess I just lost all my appetite after this too,” he chuckled softly as he got up to get up to the bedroom.

“Guess, you will be sleeping here, okay I can understand that!” he said as you internally felt relieved about him being such a gentleman. After your marriage four months ago Jimin was nothing but sweet and understanding to you, he was constantly taking care of your needs and listening to your stories.

You got comfortable with him too, as you felt yourself being relaxed in his presence. But that was not it, your feelings grew towards him, as you imagined fantasies of you together. He still high-fived you, and gave plain hugs, he was more of like a best friend to you.

And you hated it, you loved his sweet and caring nature, and hated how all was just at a best friend level when you were practically married and legally bound to each other for life. Yet, he still showed no signs of being into you and everything, every frustration, heat, love just bubbled inside you causing you to burst occasionally, like for example today.

You hated it, you hated how you lashed out at him, and you hated because you knew, or thought, you overreacted. You didn’t want to be a couple who fought every time some little thing happen and you wanted to be the couple who gets through it.

Setting your thoughts aside, you looked at the watch, which showed perfectly midnight. “Oh great, at this time Cinderella was running away from that prince, would it kill you to make that happen for me?”

You said this looking up as if you were talking to God and again spoke up, “you know the fall in love part, not the running away thingy,” and you pouted as you sat back. Taking one last look at your phone you set your head down on the couch slowly drifting away to sleep.

Meanwhile, Jimin came down sulking as he opened the refrigerator in the kitchen. Taking out a bowl of Lasagna, he picked it up and searched for a spoon in the kitchen. Finding it he murmured, “If she can’t touch my mind, this lasagna would help me refill myself, ugh!”

The next morning passed quietly, with only a quiet good morning from both of you to each other and a ‘bye’ as you left. The day was extremely slow, for the both of you and you just slumped back in the couch after having dinner as he went back in the bedroom.

Any other day, you two would have stayed up till like 2 a.m. chatting about your day and laughing and relaxing but today was all different. And surprisingly you didn’t fall asleep today, like you did yesterday and looking at the clock you found out it was 1.15 a.m.

Clutching your blanket you sat up, and suddenly you heard a thud in your bedroom. Without thinking anything you got up, and literally ran up the stairs as you clicked the door unlock when you heard a whisper, “please don’t go!”

“What the fuck is he saying?” you whispered as you opened the door, just to see a mess in the room. Pillows were thrown everywhere inside the room and the bedsheet was a mess, as Jimin tossed and turned murmuring to himself. You walked inside and climbed up the bed just for Jimin to get up in a jerk.

“Oh hey,” he couldn’t finish the sentence as he vomited all over your t-shirt making you gasp. You got concerned as you picked him up and carried him to the bathroom. You opened the tap water letting it flow as he vomited some more. You held back his long black hair as you caressed his back.

You tried to connect the dots, because you knew, Jimin didn’t drink and it was not that but food poisoning. Then you realized that you didn’t find the lasagna in the morning. That was when it hit you where it went, and what was coming out of Jimin.

As Jimin panted holding the bathroom walls and your hand. You hurriedly took off the shirt he was wearing and making him stand there you went inside to change. After coming out you gave Jimin a mouthwash and helped him come to the shared bedroom. You threw the dirty clothes inside the washing machine.

You made him sit and got up towards the door, only for him to speak up in a weak voice, “Don’t go please!” “I am just bringing my phone Jimin,” you spoke softly as you ran down the stairs. Throughout all this Jimin had watched you, how you were concerned for him, and how you didn’t get disgusted and left him alone but helped him instead.

You came back and closed the door and sat on the bed. Silence took cover between the two of you and you suddenly said, “You stupid, you ate that days old lasagna and look what happened to you.” Jimin smiled softly at your comment and scooted closer to you putting his arms around your waist.

You looked down, observing the flowered design the bed-sheet since the cover was taken off as Jimin vomited all over it. “Thanks for caring so much,” he whispered as he kissed you write below your earlobe. You sighed pushing him slightly and spoke with the slight anger in your voice.

“Why would you do that, huh? Eat that lasagna.” You said as you stared at him and then whispered, “What if something serious happened?” He loved the concern you were showing, knowing finally his feelings were not one-sided anymore. That would mean he can get to hug and kiss you any time without the hesitation he had before.

You punched his chest repeatedly saying, “You are a very stupid man,” and he laughed at your statement, his melodious laughter filling the room. “I would kiss you, only if I hadn’t vomited right about then,” he said and you replied, “I gave mouthwash to you, so you probably can,” and you couldn’t finish your sentence.

He placed his lips on your, his plump and soft ones, missing with you sweet, cherry ones. You traced your hand through his ‘Nevermind’ tattoo on his chest as you kissed him back. He pulled out smiling as he placed another soft peck on your lips as you two kept your foreheads together.

You caressed his bare back as he kissed your nose, you eyelids and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. You kissed him across his jawline down to his neck. The kisses were not rushed, but slow, sensitive and sweet, the one that are given by your lover after a long day. The kisses felt like heaven to you, as this was the first intimacy you ever had with him and everything just felt all so natural and ecstatic, as if this was just made for the two of you.

“I am your stupid man,” he said smiling and you said, “You forgot cheesy, stupid and cheesy and a ball of jealous idiot,” you giggled as he shut you up kissing you again, and you smiled inside the kiss. Maybe one wrong fight was all that was needed to lead to some right times.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤidiots in love? lol tysm for reading and liking the fic. reblog if you feel like supporting ^^ ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerrㅤmain mlistㅤ misc mlistㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

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baejax-the-great · 1 year

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We've all had the thought: Oh god, what if my writing is terrible?

Right after posting on AO3, or an hour without a kudos, or a day without a comment, or not a single reblog on tumblr--it's the logical thing to think. "It was terrible, and that's why nobody has reblogged it. Nobody liked it."

And then we take it to the next step. "I wrote something terrible, therefore I am a bad writer. My writing is bad."

And just because the feelings have a logical progression, that doesn't make them true. There are lots of reasons why a fic gets ignored or lost in the shuffle, there are lots of variables that determine popularity and quality is only one of many, but the question I find helps me the most to deal with these feelings is,

What if I'm right?

What if I am a terrible writer? What if the fic I just posted is so goddam awful that not even my friends can think of a nice thing to say about it?

Then what?

Seriously, then what? If I accept that I am a terrible writer, what does that mean for me?

Do I have to quit? Well, no, because sucking at something is a prerequisite to being good at something. If I want to get better, the only option is to keep going. I can see this for myself-- my more recent stories are better than my first stories.

Do I have to pull all my writing down from tumblr and AO3 and wherever else? Well, I can, but there's plenty of bad writing everywhere all the time, even paid, published writing, so no, I don't have to.

Will all my friends lose respect for me because of how terrible my writing is? Idk, probably not. I once made a lasagna with cinnamon in it and my friends still came over for dinner the next time so I think there's a fair amount of tolerance there for me being shitty at things.

Will random strangers see my bad writing and judge me for it? Yes and no. I've seen plenty of bad writing that made me roll my eyes. I couldn't tell you a single username attached to that writing, because I was too busy scrolling for the next thing. Who am I to them? No one. Who are they to me? No one.

I like writing. I enjoy the process. I enjoy yelling with my friends on tumblr and discord about the ideas I have. I enjoy putting words down and rearranging them and finding better words. I enjoy daydreaming scenarios and then figuring out how to translate that on the page. I enjoy feeling like I got a character voice just right or figuring out the punchline to my setup.

Does being bad at all of that negate my enjoyment?

I mean maybe. If the badness I feel is as strong and lasts as long as the enjoyment I got, then it's a wash, right? Writing brought me as much strife as it brought me enjoyment. But, for me at least, this is not how the math works out. The enjoyment far outweighs those shitty moments thinking, "Oh, well this one bombed, guess I better never write again."

If I accept that I am a bad writer and I ask myself all these questions and try to answer as honestly as possible, where does that leave me? As someone with a hobby that I'm not always the best at who sometimes writes things that nobody cares about. Is that the worst place to be? Is that worth ruining my own day over?

This is the thought process that helps me when I start getting obsessive and negative about my work. Often we end at "I'm terrible," and dwell there for a while in that negative space. My suggestion is to keep going. "I'm terrible, and that means...?"

#long post #on writing #ao3 #stats #sunday morning thoughts #this and massively making fun of my own overly dramatic thoughts are how I knock myself into healthier thought patterns #prob won't work for everyone #side note: cinnamon is fucking awful in lasagna

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unhumanrights · 6 months

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Spell Trek brainstorms

Okay, so I thought it would be a good time to start brainstorming Spell Trek in earnest, since I’m giving my T’Lyn/Mariner/Tendi fic chapter a few days to marinate (probably pick it up tomorrow, actually). I decided to live-blog my thoughts and just go through the entire process here because why not. It will be messy, but fun. Plus, people could leave feedback if they wished. Maybe I’ll change my mind later, but for now, you all will witness the process. Might leave some questions unanswered, but I can at least go through possibilities. Let’s go!

In case you haven’t seen me talk about it before, and in case the naming wasn’t too obvious, Spell Trek is my fantasy conversion of Star Trek. While I’m a fan of some sci-fi (obviously), I am personally a fantasist, so I thought this would be a good way for me to write slightly bigger stories than I could if I stuck to the canon universe. My knowledge of science is not extensive. Magic, I can do.

I guess the best place to start is with the big stuff and work my way down. So, what’s the cosmology of this setting? Obviously, the original Trek is in space. Should I basically just keep it space, but magic? Planets, nebula, black holes? Maybe it would be analogous to space, but modified. Actually, if you’ve ever heard of Spelljammer, that’s a possible way to do it. I don’t know much about the setting, but I skimmed the Wikipedia article for it, and it’s kind of what I’m talking about. Might have to do more research into it.

Perhaps instead of traveling through space, it’s all interplanar travel? Each species could come from a different dimensional plane instead of planet. Might be some kind of “space” between planes that the ships would travel through, which is where the actual space stuff would occur and would allow for actual travel instead of just blinking from plane to plane. Almost the same as the previous paragraph, I guess, just…worded differently. Planets, planes, same diff. Yeah, it’s pretty much the same concept. Magic space.

It COULD all take place on one world, and each species is a different race and nation. Kind of limits the scope, though, unless I introduce some ways to expand it, like the Underdark, parallel planes, etc. Still would have a physical limit. Unless…it didn’t? Okay, THIS is new to my brain. When I’ve thought about the possible setting before, I’ve usually thought about the previous two paragraphs, really sticking as close as possible to outer space. I briefly imagined it as one world before, but dismissed it due to limited space, and therefore lacking in terms of exploration. But what if…the landscape just had no known limit? One unending (as far as anyone knows) physical landmass/watermass? Could still have ships, but they would be airships instead. Warp could still work, as the landscape is basically infinite. Exploration is still doable. It being a flat world instead of 3D space, that would make travel slightly different, but that’s not important. Actually, maybe the travel could still be 3D? Could have underground species, perhaps landmasses in the sky, too. Or maybe…what if there are multiple physical planes stacked on top of one another? A big lasagna of reality. Cosmology is fun to play around with, huh?

Well, this brainstorming session has given me some things to think about. To summarize, it seems like I have two options for the overall setting (with some sub-options thrown in):

Basically outer space, but magic instead of science (like Spelljammer).

Replace the infinite space with infinite landmass and watermass (and possibly multiple layers).

Not sure which I prefer. I like the latter because it’s the shiny new idea I just came up with, and I wouldn’t have to worry about astrophysics or anything like that, but I guess I could always fudge it all if it’s magic anyway.

Is anyone reading this? If you want to give an opinion, you can. Oh hey, I can do a poll! I love you, Tumblr. So just take the poll. Well, you can reply or reblog/tag too, if you want, but if the poll is easier for you, by all means.

Okay, bye now.

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dumbfuck-mojave · 2 years

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Number 47

Prompt 47 from this list, chosen by @goodguydxll. He also came up with the lasagna aspect :)))

Franchise: The Evil Dead

Pairings: Ash Williams x Reader

Also Featured: No one, just two people eating in a trailer.

Warnings: Food, some angsty stuff from Ash but it’s hurt/comfort so it’s cool. Reader definitely feels more midwestern in this one than any of my previous fics.

A/N: I’m so SO happy with how this turned out I’m crying I love him so much. This was actually supposed to be done sooner, but I got caught up in writing a Stranger Things fic for another blogs follower celebration! I have an old Ash fic planned, but this is still pre-AVED Ash! I hope everyone enjoys, I love writing for him.

Word Count: 1,432

@f1nalboys @horrorstolemyheart @skeletonsinthebasement @goodguydxll @early20sfailingplenty and @cerebellam (I really love your Ash series and thought this might interest you!)

My other Ash fic!

Support me here!

“I’m about to knock your socks off with this lasagna, baby.” Ash proclaimed, taking a broad step into the trailer as he skipped the untrustworthy wire steps entirely.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Ashley,” You quip back, stepping in behind him and swinging the door shut, “Or rather, I taste it.”

“Good one.” He replies, setting the grocery bags he was carrying down on the counter and reaching over to turn on his poor excuse for an oven, a horrendous tick and snap sounding through the open room.

You and Ash had met about a month and a half ago. He had, (much to your embarrassment), walked into your place of work while you were in the middle of an argument with your shift partner for that day. You had closed thirty minutes prior, but in your rage you had forgotten to turn off the open sign and lock the door. So, Ash had sauntered right in just as you were about to open-hand slap your coworker for taking all your tips, and the rest was history.

It was an interesting experience watching Ash cook. You were nestled into the crook of the couch, chin in hand, while he methodically moved throughout the preparation process. You would have thought someone of Ash’s personality would be a disaster in the kitchen, but no. Aside from a few spots of garlic and a few lines of sprinkled parmesan cheese, he was getting through the recipe swiftly and neatly. You guess years of living alone helps you learn a few life skills.

“What is it?”

“What?” You snap out of your daze and refocus your eyes to see Ash smirking at you, a cracked eggshell in his hand.

“Why do you keep staring at me with that look?”

You lean forward a bit, straightening up, “What, am I not allowed to look at you?”

“I don’t know, are you? Did I ever say you could?”

“Oh, Jeez Louise,” You huff in mock annoyance, making your way towards the door, “Fine, I guess if I’m not allowed to look at you I’ll just be off then.”

“Woah woah woah, I didn’t say you had to leave,” Ash chuckled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You cautiously eyed the eggshell still in his hand, “I got some movies earlier, yeah? Why don’t you go pick a few for us to watch while we wait for everything to heat up, I just have a few more things to do here.”

“Alright.” You sigh, giggling slightly when he presses a kiss to your neck. Serious or not, you can’t stay mad at Ashley Williams.

-------------

“This movie sucks!” You exclaim, falling back onto the sofa bed as you point your finger at the box television across from you, grabbing the remote with your other hand, “You know, I was holding out hope it would get better, but I guess it was in vain. Ugh, at least it’s almost over.”

“Well, some good news for you, food’s done!” Ash said, leaning back to see you clearly. You smile at him, a warmth blooming inside your chest.

“That’s great news, my stomach has been growling for the past 10 minutes.” You pause, mulling over what you wanted to say next.

“You know….despite the awful movie choice, this is really nice. The best night I’ve had in awhile.”

“Yeah?” Ash walked into the room carrying a tray stacked with drinks and two plates of lasagna, gently putting them down on the side table as he crawls back into bed with you.

“Yeah,” You reply, leaning into his side when he holds his arm out to wrap around you, “I…really like you Ash.”

It’s too early to say love, especially with him.

Ash smiles down at you, nudging his nose into your forehead.

“Well gorgeous, I really like you too.”

-------------

“So? Am I going to eat my words about how good my cooking skills are or what?” Ash simpered, looking over at you as you all but cried over your plate of lasagna.

“Ash, I don’t even know what to say. Really, this is fucking delicious.” You praise back at him while taking another bite. He had moved across from you at some point, and both of you had taken to playfully kicking at each other's legs while you chatted.

“Well, I’ll give my compliments to the chef,” Ash looks around, grinning before turning back to you, “Oh wait, he’s me!”

You couldn’t hold back laughter at that, loud and wheezing as you held a hand up to your chest in a futile effort to control your breathing. Ash’s chocolate eyes softened as you fanned yourself.

“Jeez Ash, what are you trying to do to me? Ope-” You bark out, feeling your wrist come down on your plate accidentally and almost tip it over. There wasn’t much left on it besides a few scraps, regardless.

“Do you want me to take that? If you’re done?” Ash offered, holding his hand out while simultaneously inching towards the edge of the bed. You obliged him, handing him your plate and watching him walk towards the trash can. There was a newfound tension in his shoulders, one which you noticed as you sipped down the last of your drink.

“Ash, are you okay?” You question softly as he returns, back on your side this time. He sighed, rubbing his non-prosthetic hand over his face before shaking his head a little, as if clearing it.

“I’m just…trying to figure out my thoughts.”

“Take your time, I’m here for you, okay?” You hum, rubbing your hand over his shoulder.

The next few minutes pass by in silence until Ash’s baritone voice raises up once more.

“Bear with me, because I think this is going to be a jumbled mess of thoughts. I know…I know I haven’t told you a lot about me but, ah, things have-things have happened to me. Awful things, things that keep me up at night. Things that don’t let me get close to people. Which sucks because I want to. I want to get close to people, I’m so tired of sleeping around and changing towns. I just want to be able to rest. To rest and know someone is there that has my back, someone I can talk to, go to get groceries with, all that domestic stuff. I want to think I’m getting there, but everytime I make progress I just…move four steps back. I’m Ash Williams, for Pete’s sake! It’s a name… equal to failure.”

“Ash, you’re not a failure. You’re right, I don’t know what you went through. But you know what? You’re alive, that’s not failure. Living is never failure, no matter how you feel. It doesn’t matter how much progress you think you don’t make, other people can see it. I can see it. I’m with you, until the end. As long as you’ll have me, I’m here. I want to do all those things with you, if you’ll let me. You’re a good person, Ash.”

“Well, we already got the grocery thing down,”Ash attempts to chuckle, but it just comes out as another sigh, “I want to be good for you.”

“You are, don’t you see that? You’re the best thing that could ever have happened to me,” You go silent, looking at the floor in front of you, “Stand up.”

Ash looks at you, confused, “What?”

“Just do it.”

Ash does, and you quickly follow after him. You stand close together, two bodies swaying in the dim light of the trailer.

Gently, you lean in and press a slow kiss to Ash’s lips, which he reciprocates. Kisses aren’t new. What is new, however, is the lung emptying hug you pull him into, arms wrapping around him so tight he thought you might cut off his circulation. Ash stumbles a bit but regains his balance, scrambling for a moment before reciprocating the hug as well, melting into your embrace. You can feel tears against the bare skin of your neck, which only makes you hug tighter.

“This is why I wanted you to stand up,” You state, words muffled by his shoulder, “Easier access.”

Ash laughs, and this time it has actual sound to it.

“You could have just said that instead of being all weird and mysterious.” Ash wriggles against you, and you loosen your grip just enough so he can pull away and look at your face.

He leans in for another kiss.

“I love you.” He mumbles against your lips.

Okay, maybe it isn’t too early.

“I love you too.”

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outrunningthedark · 11 months

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Wasn't the couch theory connected to buddie because of overanalyzing shippers? I like buddie amd read fics but when i watched the seasons before reading fanfics i never really saw them as a ship before i just got into the ship because of a good fic

Want to start off by saying that I got caught up in the hype of "couch theory" during/after 6x01, so when I post about the signs being there re: Buddie not gong canon this season - or maybe ever, with that finale - it's because of what happened from episode two -> onward. Couch theory was a perfect storm of circumstances. Brand new season = brand new story. Buck and Eddie both single at the same time since 4A. Buck confiding in Eddie about how he connects couches to girlfriends. Buck making lasagna not just for himself and Eddie, but Chris, too, showing the audience how the three of them still are their own family unit (in their own way) through everything. Add to that the blessing (and curse, depending on how people look at things) that is Ryan and Oliver natural, subconscious (reminder that Oliver used that word specifically back in 2021) ability to connect on screen, to the point where some people want to believe every single detail is purposely for the benefit of a Buddie love story (instead of two friends and actors who can't always explain what makes them "work"), and... ...the reaction was inevitable. Things took a turn when people could not and would not separate couch theory from Eddie *despite* what we were watching on a weekly basis. Buck and Eddie have no more personal moments together after 6x01? It's all part of the grander plan. Aisha says Ryan doesn't really know much about the coma dream? She's teasing us. Of course Eddie is going to play a central role. Eddie doesn't end up getting time alone with Buck at his bedside or making an appearance in the coma dream? CLEARLY there are good reasons for that! Trust the process! And it just kept on going like that literally right up until Buck and Natalia became canon, because the hope from fandom's POV was that Buck was going to realize they weren't a good fit and end the season hanging out with the Eddie (+ maybe Chris) on the Diaz couch. Once people made up their minds that season six was going to be THE year, there was no looking back. People wanted canon!Buddie, but they also wanted to be able to laugh in the face of everyone who thought it wasn't going to happen. Now that it didn't work out the way they wanted? Who cares who's "right" about Buddie in the end? We're all just here for a good time! (The folks who've had to read the words "long form storytelling" and "media literacy" for months would beg to differ, but this fandom isn't known for acknowledging mistakes. They just block/mute/unfollow anyone who points out when they jump the gun, lol.)

#anonymous #tina speaks #tv: 911 #tv: 9-1-1 #buddie

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ajkesiah · 2 years

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• Indirect kiss •

Five hargreaves x reader

A/N: IM REALLY JUST MAKING THESE BC IM BORED BUT THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ANYTHING SO THIS WILL SUCK BUT HOPEFUL IT TURNS OUT GOOD 😅 trust the process ig 😕✌️(BTW I HAVE BARELY WATCHED TUA, I SAW JUST A COUPLE EPISODES OF SEASON 2, IDK HOW THE ACADEMY LOOKS LIKE SO IM SORRY IF I MADE ANY MISTAKES)

(btw the italic words mean y/n`s thoughts)

[ also, five is the same age as y/n, they're both 21-24 I can't rlly pick an age ]

Y/n's pov:

I'm currently walking towards the Umbrella Academy to hang out with my friends, Klaus invited me to come over bc he was bored and we were gonna have a party there, yk foods, music, and dances etc. I've been friends with them for a few years. We're all super close. Me and five get along well, surprisingly, we're like best, best friends, I sorta have a tiny crush on him ig... OKAY I HAVE A HUGE CRUSH ON HIM. 😻

3rd person pov:

(Time skip bc I don't wanna write all this)

Y/n walks up to the academy and knocks on the door, the door flung right open as Klaus put his weight on the handle with a drink in his hand. "Hey Klaus!" y/n says "hey y/n, come in" Klaus says as he stands to the side then closes the door after they walk in.

The smell of fresh food and drinks coming from the kitchen and music playing in the background. Allison and Luther dancing in the living room, Diego talking to vanya while playing with his knife, and five... idk where five is he's probably in his room or something.

Klaus stumbles to the kitchen "we have so much stuff in here y/n! Come here". Y/n follows Klaus to the kitchen and the smell getting even stronger made me wanna fall down on my knees..

(AN: FOOD THO 😻😻 HMU 😘😘 OKAY SORRY)

I walk to the counter and look at all the food and drinks lay down there, tacos, lasagna, chicken, steak, chips, sauce, cheesecake, brownies, cookies, you name it.

(IDK WHAT FOOD TO PUT??? I BARELY GO TO PARTIES, ONLY FILIPINO ONES BUT LIKE YK???)

"Woww..." Y/n asked, Klaus nods "mhm, I'm gonna dance now, wanna come?" "Sure!"

Y/n's pov:

"what happened?" all of them asked.

After drinking and have a fun time I got up from the couch to go to the kitchen when I saw five blink away somewhere as I stood up. I grabbed some food and got thirsty, and there was this cup with wine in it sitting next to me so I just drank it, not caring who's it was. While I was drinking it five blinked near me while Klaus also walked towards us. "isn't that fives glass? OMG YOU'RE DRINKING FIVES GLASS Y/N" Klaus yelled then started laughing while five just stared.

I put down the glass as I spit out the water, almost choking on the drink bc I was shocked, I mean... I'm drinking from my best friend's glass.. AKA MY CRUSH??!?!?!? HELLO??? "what?.." The others came in here curious abt what all the noise is from.

OH IM FUCKED.. 😭😭

"They kissed?!"

"Y/N HAD AN INDIRECT KISS WITH FIVE!!!" Klaus yelled out. INDIRECT KISS????? I BASICALLY KINDA KISSED FIVE?? OMG I THINK IM GONNA HAVE A HEART ATTACK..

"what"

"what's an indirect kiss?"

"Y/n and five kissed?!"

....

...

Five and I basically just watched this whole scene unravel. "umm..." I tried to think what to say.. BUT HOW TF WOULD I KNOW WHAT TO SAY IF I JUST INDIRECTLY KISSED MY CRUSH ???

Five and I just looked at each other and he walked up to me and grabbed my hand and teleported to his room. wow.. his hands are SO SOFT- IS IT HAPPENING??? FIVE IS GONNA KISS ME??? I MEAN... SAY LESS-

I was knocked out of my thoughts as five said something "well that was something..." I nodded not knowing what to say. OH GOD IM BLUSHING I BET HE CAN SEE THIS IM GONNA SHIT MYSELF SO BAD RN 😭😭 He walked up to me and and tilted my chin towards him since I was looking away. "umm.. sorry five I didn't mean to drink out of your glass.." I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly.

I MEAN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WHEN I JUST HAD AN INDIRECT KISS WITH MY BEST FRIEND THEN WE'RE IN HIS ROOM LIKE THIS??

Getting lost into his green eyes I suddenly felt a pair of lips on mine. NOW MY EYES ARE WIDE OPEN RN 😨 I kissed back knowing we weren't going to pull away anytime soon. He grabbed me by the waist and I put my arms around his neck. HIS LIPS ARE SOFT TOO THIS MAN IS TOO PERFECT WTF

The kiss lasting for a long while, we pull away and I look into his eyes as he smirked. "umm-" Klaus and the others kicked the door open right as I was about to say something. We both immediately pulled away from each other and stood awkwardly.

"OMG THEYRE KISSINGGG"

NOT AGAIN 😭

"Y/N???"

"FIVE??"

"OH MY GODDDD THERE THEY ARE"

"wow"

"Oh my god guys shut up" five said rolled his eyes and shoved them out of the room with a sigh. Turning back to me, "I'm sorry, they're annoying" "no no it's fine! I mean, it was kinda embarrassing but-" five pulled me into a passionate kiss.

A/N: OMF I HOPE THIS IS GOOD??? I HAD AN IMAGINE LIKE THIS IN CLASS BUT DIDNT FINISH IT SO I JUST WENT ALONG THE WAY HERE I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT 😘😘

#five hargreeves #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #five x reader #the umbrella academy one shots #five x you #five x y/n #x y/n #five hargreaves x reader #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #allison hargreeves

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chuuyaandreaderkilldazai · 2 years

Text

Chuuya and Reader Kill Dazai

“We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.” ― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 Sometimes that series of kindnesses is helping your boss murder his ex-mafia partner.

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Finally posting the crackfic that inspired our account name!!! It is awful. I am sorry. Please enjoy.

Word Count: 5336

Trigger Warnings: tapeworms and weight loss (Not in the context of an ED), canon compliant references to Dazai's suicidal ideation, implied existence of Gordon Ramsay

Review from Shart: "This fanfic is gonna be absofffggoogggugoogly bangin'."

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Today is the Annual Port Mafia Cooking Competition.

You’ve participated every year since joining the mafia when you were 19. Mori says it’s to build morale and strengthen bonds within the organization. You think he just enjoys the free food and drama that ensues.

The first year, you made chili dogs and failed miserably. The second year, you made green bean casserole and nearly got thrown out of the Port Mafia. This year will be different. This year, you have been paired with Chuuya Nakahara, and you are going to win with the most amazing lasagna.

After getting ready, you step out of your apartment door and walk to the elevator. When the doors open, you are surprised to see your neighbor seated in a chair in the middle of the elevator.

He was already living here when you moved in, but you’ve never actually been formally introduced. You aren’t quite sure what to make of him. His brown hair always hangs half in his face, and he’s wearing the same tan coat every time you see him. Once, you saw him wedged in a barrel while he talked with one of his friends.

You step into the elevator. Your neighbor says nothing. You press the button for ground level. No other buttons are lit up. How long has he been in here? You glance at him. He sits backwards in the chair, head resting on the top rail, arms lank at his sides.

“You camping out here?” you ask, finally breaking the silence.

Your neighbor releases a melodramatic sigh. “Don’t you ever get tired of waking up every morning?”

“Uh…” You aren’t sure how to respond. Isn’t it a little early for these types of questions anyway?

“Well, I do,” your neighbor continues unphased. “But unfortunately, I have yet to find a good way to rid myself of this life. I’m all out of ideas, so at this point I’m just hoping that this elevator falls and the safety measures fail and we plummet to our deaths.”

“Oh.”

The elevator chimes and the doors open.

"Well, uh, good luck,” you say before stepping out. “And maybe think about therapy or something.”

. . .

You arrive at the MasterChef kitchen. Mori rents it out every year and sends Chuuya to bring it to Yokohama.

You scan the room when you enter. Thankfully, Chuuya has already spotted you.

"(Y/n) Bradbury,” he calls. “Over here.”

Chuuya floats the ingredients from the MasterChef pantry over to your workstation. You two waste no time in getting started. This lasagna must be perfect. You are confident it will be. Chuuya was the winner of last year’s competition, and his reputation as one of the best chefs of the Port Mafia precedes him.

You become lost in the process of cooking. It’s almost therapeutic. Of course, you’re mostly chopping and stirring. Chuuya takes care of the more technical aspects like making and rolling out the pasta, sautéing the sauce, and constructing the layers of the lasagna. It’s quite fun, actually, and you hope that this process earns you good standing with the mafia exec.

You and Chuuya are one of the last pairs to finish, but the time you took was worth it. Chuuya gingerly pulls the lasagna from out of the oven, and it looks scrumpdilyicious.

“We are for sure winning this year,” you say.

You both stand for a moment, admiring your creation when you hear a voice from behind you.

“That lasagna looks crisp.”

You turn around and see…your neighbor?

Beside you, Chuuya bellows, “DAZAI!”

You had heard the stories. Chuuya’s infamous partner. The youngest Port Mafia executive in history. 138 murders, 312 cases of extortion, and 625 cases of fraud.

Osamu Dazai.

Your neighbor was Osamu Dazai?

“What are you doing here?” Chuuya demands. He looks rabid, like he could start foaming at the mouth at any moment.

“Oh, I come every year,” Dazai says airily. “I just normally stay hidden and take a box of the best dishes to go when no one’s looking. But I smelled this delicious lasagna, and I just couldn't sit and wait. I had to have the first bite. So, without further ado, I’ll be taking this.”

You are dumbfounded when Dazai reaches between you and Chuuya, picks up the lasagna, turns on his heel, and walks away.

It only takes a second for Chuuya to react. With a snarl, he lunges for Dazai, landing at his feet and wrapping his arms around the ex-mafioso’s ankles. You had never seen him attack someone like this before. It was so childish it was embarrassing.

Dazai seems unphased. “Chuuyaaaa, let go. I’m gonna drop it.”

“Give me back my lasagna, you traitor!”

For a moment, it seems Dazai is about to topple over. Your heart lurches as you envision your victory lasagna flying and splattering all over the floor. Then, Dazai frees one of his legs from Chuuya’s grip, lifts it up, and brings his shoe down on Chuuya’s face, driving his heel into his mouth.

“Eat shit, shortie!”

Chuuya relinquishes Dazai’s ankles, spitting and sputtering.

Dazai can only take two more steps before he is surrounded, the barrels of a dozen men’s guns aimed at his head.

“Really? All this for lasagna?” Dazai says. You can’t help but feel unsettled at the way the man doesn’t falter for a moment in the face of death. In fact, it looks like he’s rather enjoying himself.

You also can’t help but wonder: Is this really the man you’ve heard about? One of the most feared Port Mafia executives in history? He doesn’t look intimidating. He’s lanky and greasy and smells faintly of ground beef.

“Wait!” You hear a screech from across the MasterChef kitchen. Akutagawa catapults himself over the workstation counters, sending pots and silverware clattering to the ground. “Wait! Don’t shoot him. Rashomon!”

Rashomon propels Akutagawa to Dazai’s side. Chuuya is on the floor, spitting and cursing. The men open fire, but the bullets are like spit balls against Rashomon. You and everyone else in the kitchen drop to the ground, bullets whizzing over your heads.

You cannot believe this.

Dazai is going to walk right out of this kitchen.

And he has your lasagna.

You quickly begin crawling towards Dazai, towards the large wooden doors he intends to exit through. You just need to get a little closer.

When Dazai is just a few feet from the doors, you leap up and call upon your ability.

“Fahrenheit 451!”

You thrust out your hand and ignite a wall of flames between Dazai and the exit.

He pauses, then turns to you.

“That’s cute.”

He’s reaching out his hand, and you’re frozen. You could fight him, but that would mean the demise of your lasagna. Before you can decide on a course of action, his hand is on your shoulder.

And you feel weak. All your power drains from you. Your flames are extinguished.

Dazai raises his hand, wiggles his fingers. “Toodaloo.”

And he walks out.

. . .

You feel like trash. So you go where the trash goes. To the landfill.

You sit on the ground and hold your head in your hands. You’ve just lost your chance at impressing Chuuya and climbing the ranks in the Port Mafia.

You pull out your phone, hoping to distract yourself from your troubles. You’re scrolling through your feed when your heart skips a beat. The post is from one of your favorite pages, @lasagnaworldwide. The owner of the page posts every lasagna they eat from different restaurants and ranks them. But there’s the post, and it’s your lasagna. Which means Dazai runs @lasagnaworldwide.

You groan and shut off your phone. You don’t know how long you sit there, but eventually a voice startles you out of your stupor.

"I thought you’d be here.”

Your head jerks up.

“Chuuya? How’d you— Wait, why did you think I’d be here?”

" ’Cause you probably feel like trash,” he says, shrugging.

"Oh, well, you’re not wrong.”

“How would you like to not feel like trash?”

“What?”

"I’ve put up with Dazai’s shit for years. I think it’s high-time for some revenge.”

"Revenge?” You already feel your spirits rising. “What do you have in mind?”

The corners of Chuuya’s mouth curl.

"I’m going to kill Osamu Dazai.”

. . .

“How are you going to kill him?” you ask Chuuya.

"That the thing. I don’t think I can.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Many people have tried to kill Dazai in the past, and they’ve all failed. His ability to evade death is frightening—he’s like a cockroach. And we were partners for so long, he knows everything about my fighting style. That’s why I need a partner, someone he’s not familiar with, an enemy he doesn’t know. You will be instrumental in killing Dazai.”

"Me?” you say in disbelief. “I can’t kill him. I tried to stop him at the cooking competition, and he completely disarmed me in seconds.”

“Yeah, his pesky ability and his annoying habit of guessing your plan means it will be easier to kill him if we don’t confront him face to face.”

Your being neighbors with Dazai becomes a crucial aspect of the revenge plan.

On the morning of the appointed day, you meet Chuuya at his place.

“Dazai has left for work?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say. “I watched him leave.”

"And he didn’t see you?”

“No.”

“And did you set up the cameras?”

“Yes, they’re hidden, and I touched nothing else in his apartment.”

“Good.”

You and Chuuya make cookies. It was actually a nice experience. You weren’t rushed this time around, and Chuuya turned it into a mini baking lesson.

Before you shape the cookies, Chuuya adds an additional ingredient to the batter: arsenic.

Once the cookies have baked and cooled, you place them in Tupperware, and Chuuya writes on a sticky note: “Enjoy! –Atsushi :0”

“You’re sure this will work?” you ask.

“It has to.”

You and Chuuya head back to the apartment complex. You carefully place the lasagna on Dazai’s doorstep and enter your own apartment. You set up your laptop on the counter and bring up the stream from the cameras you placed in Dazai’s apartment.

“All right, everything’s set up,” Chuuya says. “We’ve got approximately five hours until Dazai should be back.”

You both sit in silence for a few moments.

“You…want to play Uno?” you ask.

“Sure.”

Uno goes well for a few rounds. The problem arises when you try to stack a Draw 4 card on top of the one Chuuya played.

“What? You can’t do that!” Chuuya slams his hand on the counter.

“Yes, I can. It’s called stacking.”

“That’s not a thing! That’s not in the rules.”

“That’s how everyone plays.”

"No.”

Chuuya takes the card and flings it back at you. You catch it and place it firmly back on the stack.

“Yes.”

You suddenly lose contact with the ground, your back pinned to the ceiling as you struggle against the crushing weight on your chest. Something whizzes past your face and imbeds itself in the wall next to your head—your Draw 4 card.

“That is not how we’re playing,” Chuuya says with venom.

At this point, you don’t have much choice but to agree to Chuuya’s rules.

To keep the peace for the rest of the afternoon, you abandon Uno and instead pass the time playing Wii Sports.

Finally, your computer beeps, indicating motion inside Dazai’s apartment. You and Chuuya watch as Dazai carries in the cookies. To your relief, he doesn’t seem to suspect anything and eats them all in one sitting.

Now, all you need to do is wait.

“Is this…sad for you at all?” you ask Chuuya. “I mean, he used to be your partner, and we’re about to watch him die.”

“Nah. He deserves it.”

A couple hours pass, and Dazai appears unaffected.

“Shouldn’t he be feeling sick or something by now?” you ask.

“Yeah, he should be.”

You wait, and you wait. And nothing happens.

And then Dazai’s looking right into one of your cameras.

“Hi, Chuuya.”

“What?” You jump out of your seat. “There’s no way he could have found that unless—”

“He knew exactly what he was looking for,” Chuuya says.

“I knew those cookies were from you,” Dazai continues from the laptop. “Atsushi can’t bake. If you sprinkled in any nefarious substances, you should know they probably won’t work. I’ve built an immunity to multiple different poisons. I’ve tried them all. Many times.”

“I should have known,” Chuuya mutters.

Dazai is still talking. “But the cookies were great! Hey, why didn’t you ever cook for me when I was still in the mafia?”

Chuuya slams the laptop shut.

“We’re gonna need a new plan,” he says.

. . .

Chuuya says he needs a while before the second attempt on Dazai’s life, but he neglects to tell you what his plan is.

A few days later, you hear a frantic knocking at your door. You answer it, and Chuuya shoves his way into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I know how to kill Dazai,” he says holding up a small container of pills.

“Chuuya, poison won’t work,” you remind him.

“It’s not poison. Are the cameras still up in Dazai’s apartment?”

“I doubt it,” you say, “but we can check.”

You cross the apartment to your laptop on the kitchen counter.

“I can’t believe it,” you say. “They’re still up and streaming. Why didn’t he take them down?”

“Freak. But this is good for us,” Chuuya says. “We’ll strike when we see him go to the bathroom.”

“I…did not put cameras in his bathroom.”

“No, we’re not watching him use the bathroom—don’t be ridiculous. We just need to know that he’s in the bathroom. Then we’ll attack. He’ll be cornered and at his most vulnerable.”

“Oh,” you say, understanding. “So we corner him in the restroom, and then what? You’ll slit his throat or something?”

“Of course not,” Chuuya scoffs. “He’d expect that and manage to get away. Like I said, we’re using these.” He places the pill bottle on the counter. “Tapeworm pills.”

“Tapeworm pills?”

“I’ll hold him down, and you’ll shove as many down his throat as you can.”

You were expecting something a little more sophisticated, but you might as well give this a go.

Everything goes according to plan. When you see Dazai go into his bathroom, Chuuya goes to quickly pick the lock on Dazai’s front door only to find it, surprisingly, not locked at all.

“Hurry,” Chuuya hisses as he runs in.

You dump a handful of tapeworm pills in your fist and follow behind.

Chuuya stops in front of Dazai’s bathroom door. “Ready?”

You nod. Chuuya merely touches the bathroom door, and it comes crashing to the ground. Dazai’s sitting on the toilet, and he screeches when you and Chuuya burst into the room.

“Ambushing a man while he’s pooping? That’s low, Chuuya.”

“If it gets the job done, I don’t care,” Chuuya says, pinning Dazai in place.

The second Dazai opens his mouth to speak again, you shove the handful of tapeworm pills down his throat. You intend to then force his jaw closed and make sure he swallows them, but you’re too slow. Your fingers are still in Dazai’s mouth when he chomps down. You yell and jerk backwards. The momentum brings Dazai toppling off the toilet and on top of Chuuya. You violently shake your hand, trying to free yourself from Dazai’s jaws while Chuuya spits profanities and tries to shove Dazai off of him.

“Guys, stop,” Dazai cries. You gratefully yank your hand away from him. “This is stressful; I’m gonna poop myself.”

“You better not!” Chuuya shouts. He gives Dazai one final shove. Dazai is pushed backwards and hits his head on the toilet, which effectively knocks him out.

“Go,” Chuuya says, pushing you. “Let’s get out of here.”

After that fiasco, you retreat back to your own apartment where Chuuya sanitizes and begins wrapping your hand.

“This really isn’t necessary, Chuuya,” you say. “It’s really not that bad.”

“No, it definitely is necessary. He probably has parasites. Well, I mean he has parasites now, but he probably had them before too.” Chuuya pauses for a moment as he ties off the wrap. “It will probably take a few months before we notice any changes in Dazai. You can keep tabs on him in his apartment as long as he doesn’t decide to take those cameras down. I’ll try to keep an eye on him around the ADA. I’ll be in touch.”

Before Chuuya walks out the door, he pauses. “And, Bradbury? Let’s never talk about the bathroom incident again.”

Chuuya is right—it takes while before you see the effects of the tapeworm pills. Chuuya informs you that he’s overheard Dazai calling himself a skinny legend, so he seems to be taking the change quite well. Your spirits rise with time; all seems to be going as planned, and the world should soon be rid of Dazai. That is until Chuuya finds you one day and tells you that this plan has also failed. The ADA agent Dr. Yosano examined Dazai’s symptoms and, despite his protests, put an end to his tapeworm infection.

But the third time’s a charm, right?

. . .

Chuuya paces in his kitchen as you sit at the bar.

“Maybe it’s not worth it,” you say. “This is tiring. We could just call it a day and forget about the whole thing.”

“No!” Chuuya says more aggressively than warranted. “No, he has to die.”

“I mean, it was just lasagna.”

“It’s not just lasagna. I’ve been the butt of Dazai’s jokes for years, and it’s time he pays for that. He has to pay for the countless times he’s humiliated me, and he has to pay for leaving.”

“Okay,” you say softly. “Okay, then we’ll make him pay. But I think you need to accept that our current approach isn’t working. We’ll have to confront him.”

“That’s going to be near impossible,” Chuuya says. “I’ve fought him before. I can’t win.”

“But you’ve never fought him with me before,” you say.

You and Chuuya formulate a new plan that you hope is foolproof.

On the appointed night, you meet Chuuya outside the Port Mafia headquarters.

“Everything is set?” he asks.

You nod. “I put the tracker on him while he was sleeping. Everything is ready.”

“Then, let’s go.”

Chuuya gives you a piggyback ride, and he begins rising in the air. To make your way through the city quickly, he propels himself from building to building. You stop at restaurants, government buildings, gas stations, and any public area that’s sure to draw attention, and using your ability Fahrenheit 451, you set them all on fire.

You work at an incredible and tiring pace. You and Chuuya crouch into an alleyway to catch your breath.

“You think we’ve gotten the ADA’s attention yet?” you ask.

“We have to have. A quarter of the city’s on fire. They’re probably meeting right now to figure out how to handle this.”

“And you’re sure they’ll all split up?”

“They’ll have to if they want to try to control the whole situation. Even if they go in pairs, one more ADA agent’s blood on my hands won’t weigh very heavy against my conscience. Are you ready? We need to get going if we’re going to make it to our final location in time.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

You arrive at the fire department and set it ablaze. With all the fire fighters out in the city, no one’s there to stop you. You pull up the tracking app on your phone and check Dazai’s location. Before long, he starts to head your way.

“You were right,” you say. “He’s coming.”

Chuuya looks tense. “Good. But that also means he knows it’s us. He’ll be ready. We need to be ready, too.”

“We will be. We are ready, Chuuya,” you assure him.

He gives you a curt nod. “All right. Go hide before he gets here.”

You hide inside one of the cars parked on the street. Chuuya waits outside of the burning fire department for Dazai’s arrival.

It doesn’t take long.

“Hello again, Chuuya. I’d say it’s good to see you, but the last time you visited, you attacked me on the toilet and gave me tapeworms, so really, it’s not.”

“Oh, cry me a river.” Chuuya sounds as venomous as ever, but he looks uncomfortable, his hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders tensed to his ears.

“Actually, that’d be helpful right about now,” Dazai says. “When reports of the fires started coming in, I figured you and your little fire friend had something to do with it, but I wasn’t sure until I started hearing calls about the station. It takes a pretty gutsy arsonist to go after the fire station itself. Where is your new partner anyway? Call them out and get them to extinguish the fires so we can go back to bed.”

“I think we’ll burn you to a crisp instead.”

“Please, Chuuya. You ought to know better. Their ability can’t hurt me.”

While they had been talking, Chuuya had been backing up, inching closer and closer to the fire station. They were just a few feet from the entrance now.

“You, on the other hand,” Dazai says, seizing Chuuya’s wrists, “are very flammable.”

You leap from your hiding spot and sprint towards the two.

“That’s where you miscalculated, Dazai,” you shout, making Dazai halt his attempt to throw Chuuya into the burning building. “My ability is to start fires. Once they’re set, I have no control over them—it ceases to be an ability.”

You activate your ability in one of your hands and blow sparks into Dazai’s face. He releases his hold on Chuuya and staggers backwards.

For the first time, you glimpse fear in Dazai’s eyes.

“My name is (y/n) Bradbury. You stole my lasagna. Prepare to die.”

Before Dazai can recoup, you encircle him with flames, lining a pathway to the entrance of the fire station. You don’t stop. You keep setting fires behind him, pushing him closer and closer to the entrance until he has no choice but to go inside.

You and Chuuya retreat to the street.

“He’s not getting out of this one,” you say. “Now, all we have to do is wait.”

You stand in silence for a few minutes, watching the building burn.

You jump at the explosion. Chuuya sucks in a breath as half the building collapses.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “He’s gone.”

“We did it,” you say.

“Yeah.” Chuuya finally drags his gaze away from the fire and looks at you. “Thank you, (y/n). I couldn’t have—”

“Chuuuuuya.”

You and Chuuya freeze and slowly turn back to the station.

And there’s Dazai. Walking out.

“What?” you exclaim in disbelief. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

“He’s not dead!” Chuuya yells. “He’s just on fire now!”

He was right. Dazai was very much alive. And on fire.

And he was running towards you.

Chuuya starts pushing you. “We need to get out of here. Go! Run!”

You and Chuuya break into a sprint down the street with a flaming Dazai hot on your heels.

“Oh, are we playing tag now?” he calls from behind you. “I’ll be It first!”

Chuuya grabs your arm and launches into the sky, away from another failed attempt to kill Osamu Dazai.

. . .

You feel as though you have never felt true defeat before. You’re a member of the Port Mafia working with one of the organization’s most powerful executives, and you can’t even kill one dismal man. Not to mention, this makes run-ins with Dazai at the apartment complex extremely awkward.

To cope with your humiliating failure, you and Chuuya watch Jack Black movies while doing facemasks and making ice cream sundaes. You drown your sorrows in Nacho Libre, School of Rock, and Jumanji, saving the Kung Fu Panda movies for last. As you watch, you realize something. The snow leopard Tai Lung, the peacock Lord Shen, and the bull Kai—every villain—they were all motivated by revenge. And they all failed.

You wonder if Chuuya is having the same realization. When the final movie ends, you look at him, and from the emotion that passes over his face, you can tell that he is.

“I’m afraid we may have wasted a lot of time, (y/n).”

“What were we thinking?” you murmur. “It was just lasagna.”

“Well, not for me, but still.”

You sit in silence for a moment, rethinking every decision.

“I think we need to let this go and move on,” Chuuya says. “Revenge is…tiring.”

“Especially against Dazai,” you add.

“Especially against Dazai.”

You both do your best to do that. And actually, your life improves a lot. Your original hope of making a good impression on Chuuya comes to fruition, albeit not in the way you had expected. He puts you on bigger jobs now and often brings you along on his own dealings.

You heal. You move on from revenge. And you and Chuuya become besties for lifers.

So it isn’t surprising when you receive a call from him one day. You answer it immediately.

“(Y/n)! You’ve got to get over here.”

“What’s wrong?” you say, already jumping from your couch and making to leave your apartment. “How much reinforcement do I need to bring?”

You say a silent prayer that Dazai isn’t outside. After giving up revenge, you had decided to just ignore him the best you could. But of course, you only seemed to bump into him more frequently. Since Kung Fu Panda changed your perspective on life, you decided to take the first step in apologizing. You gave him a fruitcake, and with it, you left a note that read: Dazai, I am sorry I tried to poison you, gave you tapeworms as you were pooping, and tried to collapse a burning building on you with Chuuya. Please accept this apology fruitcake (I promise it is not poisoned or otherwise weaponized). If you ever need to borrow sugar, you know who to ask. Your neighbor, (y/n) Bradbury.

Even so, you would still prefer to avoid him as much as possible.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Chuuya answers. “This is the best idea I’ve ever had. Meet me in the Port Mafia armory.”

Then he hangs up.

That was strange, you think. But then again, stranger things have happened.

When you arrive at the armory, you find Chuuya rummaging around in some back closet you’ve never seen before.

“I know it’s in here somewhere,” he mutters as he digs through various boxes. “It has to still be in here.”

“What are you looking for?” you ask.

“Something Dazai and I put in here a long time ago.”

“Whatever it is, hurry up. This dust is making my sinuses go nuts.”

Chuuya opens the next box and cries, “Found it!”

He lifts something large of the box and staggers out of the storage closet. You follow and close the door behind him. Chuuya is moving surprisingly fast for carrying such a large object. Once outside, he sets it down on the sidewalk.

“A jetpack?” you say incredulously.

“Yes!” He then reaches behind some of the landscaping outside the armory and retrieves a Razor scooter.

“And a scooter,” you deadpan.

“It’s even the kind that makes sparks when you press down on the bar back here,” he says, swinging the scooter up by the handle. The scooter spins around and hits him on the ankle. He shouts and lets the scooter clatter to the ground.

“Where’d you even get this?” you ask. It doesn’t look new.

“I was out, and this annoying kid called me a leprechaun,” Chuuya answers through gritted teeth. “Stole his scooter to teach him a lesson. Gah, that hurts. Anyway, I want you to weld this jetpack onto the back of the scooter. I’ll run back inside the armory to grab some helmets.”

Before you can even say a word, Chuuya’s already back inside the building. So, you set to work, heating your hands and welding the jetpack to the back of the scooter. Chuuya reemerges from the armory with two helmets. He’s restless as you wait for the heated metal to cool.

Finally, the time comes. You put on your helmets and both step on the scooter. Chuuya takes the handlebars, and it’s your job to turn on the jetpack.

“As soon as you power it up, you need to hold on, or you’re going to fly off and die, probably,” Chuuya says.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“Ready?”

You nod.

“Go.”

Chuuya pushes off the sidewalk. You flip on the jetpack and wrap your arms around Chuuya. The jetpack sputters, and then you are flying down the sidewalk, leaving a trail of sparks in your wake. It’s fast, exhilarating. You both release whoops of joy. You agree—this is the best idea Chuuya has ever had.

That is until you start heading for more crowded streets.

“Get out of the way!” Chuuya shouts.

People on the sidewalk scramble to make way as you careen straight down the sidewalk.

“Hey, maybe turn around,” you suggest. “Let’s go back to the less crowded streets by the armory.”

“I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“Too fast! I can’t make any big turns.”

“We’re gonna die,” you lament.

“No, we aren’t.”

“Yes we—Watch out!”

You quickly shift your weight to ever so slightly turn the scooter, narrowly avoiding a couple who hadn’t spotted you. The scooter’s new course aligns perfectly with a ramp that leads onto scaffolding. The scooter zooms up, and within seconds, you run out of scaffolding. You’re airborne, soaring over the street. There’s a man walking on the next sidewalk corner, right in line with your trajectory. Your and Chuuya’s screaming catches his attention. He turns to look at you, eyes widening, and on your next heartbeat, you and Chuuya collide with Osamu Dazai.

Pain explodes in your body, and the wind is knocked out of you. You lie on the sidewalk, trying to catch your breath. Once you’re able to sit up, you examine the damages. Luckily, it doesn’t feel like anything is broken. Your whole right side is scratched up and will be painfully bruised for a couple weeks, but that’s the extent of it.

And then you hear Chuuya: “Dazai!”

You shift and see Chuuya crawling towards Dazai’s limp body. Chuuya shakes him once.

“Dazai?” Chuuya cradles Dazai’s head with one hand and lightly slaps his face with his other hand. “Hey, wake up. This isn’t funny.” Chuuya places two fingers against Dazai’s neck and waits.

When he looks up at you, the realization hits you both at the same time.

Dazai is dead.

You stagger to your feet and glance behind you. People are going to notice any second.

“Chuuya, we gotta go,” you say gently as you pick up the ruined scooter and jet pack. You place a free hand on Chuuya’s shoulder. “We need to go.”

Chuuya gently lays Dazai’s head down, and his hand comes away painted red.

You make sure Chuuya is with you, then turn heel and run harder than you’ve ever ran in your life.

You crash at Chuuya’s place. At first, neither of you say anything.

“He’s gone for good,” Chuuya says softly.

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say.

“We actually did it.” And then he repeats himself, voice stronger this time, “We actually did it. We succeeded. We killed the unkillable. (Y/n), we’re going to be legends.”

A few weeks later, after you both are healed, you and Chuuya decide to celebrate. You pick out matching friendship bracelets and have them engraved with “Super Ultra Mega Besties,” thus solidifying your status as the most iconic and unparalleled power duo the Port Mafia had ever seen.

The End

#chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai slander #bungo stray dogs #fanfic #fanfiction #bsd

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honestlyeddie-im-bi · 2 years

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Ok, I think I'm starting to process this a little bit, so here are my thoughts on this episode.

Starting strong with the hearts mentions! The girl with the heart transplant, the golfer dad 'shot' almost to the heart by the wedding ring, the car dealer claiming that they have heart, and Maddie, MADDIE MY LOVE, wearing the same heart necklace in all of her scenes, all 7 of them!!!! I'm still screaming.

Speaking of Maddie.... so much is going on in my head about her! Madney is back! Madney is going strong! I fucking love them - on another note, Chimney, dear lord. The way he caresses Maddie's shirt to get to her hand... just. That's some fucking Austen shit right there, and also hotter than all the 50 shades movies combined.

And something else about Maddie! I love that once she moves in with Chim she says "Turns out Mama's got a lot of stuff!" which is so different from what we know of Maddie - she never puts down roots, she travels light, she only had two suitcases worth of stuff when she left Doug, but now she's got many more things, just like her family is made of a lot more people.

Captain Hen! She IS the future of the LAFD as it's implied in Hen Begins. I think Captain Wilson was where they were going to go before they decided to get Hen to Med School, anyway, so. Also, I hadn't watched the Lucy scene before watching the episode because ya girl here wants to experience the whole episode at once, so yeah, I'm perfectly ok with the way all the things about the Interim Captain went. (Also, I still stand by my decision to watch the episode as they come - no preview, no nothing, it's a whole other experience this way.)

(May is so pretty in this episode, dear lord)

Bobby and Athena, my loves! ❤️ Their first scene together warmed me to my very core. (also if we find out that that little girl that disappeared when Athena was a kid was kidnapped or killed by her dad I will cry for three days straight)

Buck, Buck, my beloved (THE RETURN OF THE CLIPBOARD!!!!!!!!!). I firmly believe that the show will end with Buck in the Captain's chair - and this! We'd got from Oliver Stark's several interviews in the last week that he was going to go for that and I loved his interaction with Bobby, the idea that to become a good leader you can't just be good at your job, you also need stuff outside of it too.

Eddie in this episode hit me in so many ways, dear lord. He was so competent with everything - did you see the sternal rub? I'm gonna start developing a complex here - both as a medic and as a firefighter. He's better, he's more open, I love how he talked about Shannon, I just loved him so much in this episode. (also kudos to Ryan Guzman, because seriously! He's so different from the other seasons, and you can see it, you can feel it, I love the way he talks now, because I remember how he was in S2-S4, always trying to make his voice a bit bigger, a bit lower, louder and quieter at the same time, but this Eddie is more comfortable in his own skin, he doesn't need to pretend to be something he's not, and Mr. Guzman is incredible in the way he shows it.)

Buddie. I have no words - actually, I have too many words, bear with me here:

The lasagna!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As a little italian lady, let me tell you that lasagna is how you show love. It's time-consuming, it's a hassle, it's something that you only do for the people you love. The fact that he's making it for Chris and Eddie, so comfortable in his kitchen, so laid back, is just... ugh. Also how he says it took him three times to get it 'right' - I don't know, like the number of girlfriends he's had in the show and the fourth time is the charm and he's giving it to Eddie and Chris???????? I'm screaming.

On a sidenote, I fucking called it - food is love in this show, so Taylor can get fucked and she only gets frozen waffles, but the Diaz family deserves home-cooked meals made from scratch! Something he doesn't really know how to cook even! That he had to make over and over again. I'm sorry, I'm obsessed.

The couch talk was so incredibly important too - once again, I'd steered clear of all the discourse after 'you don't even have a couch' was leaked - but yeah. The way Buck says "The couches came with girlfriends" and he's never really felt comfortable in them (thinking of Chris sitting down on the coffee table in 3x03 here), and then Eddie replying "Your last two girlfriends came with couches" WHEN BUCK IS ALWAYS SITTING DOWN OR SLEEPING ON EDDIE'S COUCH, JUST WHAT

I have no idea how they managed to make the loft so lived in! It looked like a home - and the fact that it was because the table was set and Eddie and Chris were there, just... kill me already.

I'M NOT DONE ABOUT HOW IMPORTANT THE FOOD IS. You mean to tell me that Taylor moves in and she gets to eat takeout - no cutlery because they can find it - but Eddie is there and the whole table is set up, everything is out, and they get a homemade meal? I will be done screaming at one point, I swear.

Chris roasting one of his dads with the help of his other dad, my beloved.

Eddie and Chris feeling comfortable enough at the loft that they can mind their own business as Buck does his thing ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ also, I love how at ease they looked in Buck's kitchen but once they're home on their own... it felt off, it felt like something was missing this time around.

(Mr Guzman, you blushed through the whole episode. What. do. you. know.)

THE CHAIR. ashdhfbrkfhbsrkjfbsdfjbsd the way he's choosing a chair he owns, a chair he knows, a chair that won't hurt him. (Also, Oliver, dear lord, the way he lifts that chair)

I don't know. I have so many feelings. The more I think about it the more insane I feel about the weewoo show.

#911 on fox #911 on fox spoilers #911 #911 spoilers #I am not ok why are you asking?

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museswithinx · 1 year

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look who came to dinner ; a drabble

While both their daughters were leading their own lives independent of Bonnie and Dev, the Bennett-Simses always made time for weekly family gatherings. Sunday dinners had become something of a tradition since the girls both moved out. It was a day when they could all just slow down the chaos of life and spend time together as a family. Even if she did see her daughters more frequently than just once a week, Bonnie was always looking forward to it.

“The lasagna still has about 20 minutes.” Bonnie stated to Dev as she closed the oven back up and grabbed a loaf of the bakery bread off the counter. “I think I’ll make some garlic bread to go with it. Mind setting the table for me, dear? Connor and Levi are coming so we’ll need two extra spots set.”

As her husband grabbed some plates from the cupboard and went about setting the table, Bonnie busied herself cutting the bread and making the garlic mixture. “There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge too if you’ll get that out.” She tells Dev as she starts coating the bread with the garlic mixture. Letting that sit when she’s done, she washes her hands and peeks at the lasagna again when the doorbell suddenly goes off.

“That’s probably the girls.” Bonnie said as she quickly popped the bread in the oven and started heading toward the living room as Dev finished setting the table. “I’m coming!” She shouted as the doorbell went off again. Opening the door, she already had a comment ready at the tip of her tongue about how she’d given them a house key for a reason but she swallows it back when she finds it isn’t Aubrey or Haley on the other side.

“Hello, Bonnie.”

“Mom?!” Bonnie exclaims, utterly shocked to find Abby of all people at her door.

“Can I come in?”

Bonnie blinked at her, still processing some shock. She would’ve been less surprised to find someone like Kai at her front door than her own mother. Abby had abandoned her not once but twice and hadn’t heard a single word from her since. She knew the change from witch to vampire was difficult on her but that didn’t excuse the abandonment. It didn’t excuse the first time either. Clearing her throat, Bonnie straightens her back and the shock is quickly replaced by a controlled anger.

“Why are you here?” She asks, completely ignoring her request to be invited inside. Mother or not, she wasn’t about to give her a free ticket inside her home. She didn’t even know anything about her anymore and aside from a few exceptions, she didn’t much trust many vampires these days. For all she knew, Abby could have just given in to the dark side.

Crossing her arms over her chest as she awaited a response, Abby appeared to consider her words before speaking again.

“Because I wanted to see you.” She started, earning a look of disbelief from Bonnie. “And I wanted to... Make things right. The word is vampires have one last lifetime before the balance is restored and then we all turn to dust. I’ve made my peace with that but I never made my peace with you.”

“So, what? You want me to ease your guilty conscience for you and tell you it’s okay you abandoned me? Get real. It doesn’t work like that. You left, that was your choice. That’s what you always did when it got too difficult.”

“No, that’s not what I meant...”

They were interrupted as Dev suddenly came up behind Bonnie. He must have sensed the tension all the way from the kitchen as she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. A small and subtle gesture that communicated he had her back. Reaching her own hand up, she touched his to let him know it was okay.

“Dev, this is my mom, Abby,” she introduced with very little enthusiasm, “Abby, this is my husband, Dev.”

It was awkward and neither extended a hand to greet the other. Dev knew all about his mother-in-law so it wasn’t exactly one of those warm and nerve-wracking meet-the-parents moment. Abby did manage a small smile though, offering a, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Then her daughters showed up with Connor and Levi, also appearing to immediately sense the tension on the porch. Sighing, Bonnie shot a look Haley’s way because her youngest already appeared ready to pounce, before looking back to Abby. “You can come in.” There was a hint of warning to her tone though. It wasn’t a warm welcome.

Stepping aside for her mother, she received questioning looks from her daughters to which she shook her head. They’d talk later.

#( look who came to dinner ; drabble )#( special guest ; bonnie bennett sims )#( special guest ; abby bennett )#( devonnie tag ; )#( bonnie & abby tag ; )#// idk just a thing i wanted to write #bc I love the Bennett family dynamics #and kinda wanted to set up a possible redemption for Abby #bc TVD gave us like nothing with her basically lol

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thisisasupergoodidea · 3 months

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ive come to the conclusion that i need to rewrite the entire chapter that i struggled through for all of 2023... hopefully not ENTIRELY from scratch, but basically from the beginning

and i gotta ignore the outline that i worked on for the book in 2023 too, bc it turned into a bloated disconnected mess that made me forget my original chapter theming template...

like, i understand that this is all part of the learning process but at the same time it feels like im throwing away an entire year of 'progress'

idk man i kinda just want to lay down on the floor forever instead 🥲

#the process of making word lasagna #so frustrating to constantly end up hating the thing im working on any time its not going absolutely smoothly and easy and flawless #i really dont want to keep abandoning things when the process gets too much. i simply need to figure out a better process #but i havent found it yet

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el-im · 2 years

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GOOD COUNTRY PEOPLE for Ed, Stewart, Charles, and the women they left behind.

We had been living in a town only reachable by service roads, unnamed, dirt-packed, unpaved. I hadn’t believed until seeing them that such things had survived the tumultuous transition between last century & this one, our own. The step away.

You died unremarkably, quietly. Having told me, and your daughter -- sitting still on my lap as though she could sense the need for peace -- that you loved us. That we two women were the wonders of your life And boy were you grateful that we let you ‘stick around’ for the short time you had to be here. You kissed my hand, which had not let yours go for days. You kissed your daughter, small and quiet as the field mice that your brother used to catch in the wheat.

We sat with you for a moment, feeling the sense of you exit the room through the hole in the ceiling fit with the flute of the wood burning stove. Letting the last remnant of heat from your cooling body pass into my hand. I heaved out a breath I’d been holding like a bellow and caught the sight of my daughter’s hair flutter with my breath. I understood, looking into the room with her head bordering on my field of view, that I could not follow you. That I had things to attend to here “mind the store” you always said.

The next few days passed quietly. Albert drove down rather than take a plane, saying he could pick up your mother on the way. You know she hasn’t been driving, and it’s a long trip, but she wanted to come & it would not have been right without her. I remember the sight of their headlights flooding in through the kitchen window. My body leaning over the sink like a sentinel guarding our dishes. A basin full of soapy water, which has sat so long it went cold. In it, the last cup you ever drank from. The last spoon you ever held.

I had told your brother, over the phone, to come in when he arrived. They entered through the kitchen. The door swung out against the cabinets and only the screen was latched in place unlocked, as always. By the time your mother had come to me, cradling my face in her hands, mine were pruned by the water. I hadn’t thought to remove them from the sink, though I hadn’t washed a thing. She cooed some words to me that just passed through, handed me a towel to dry my hands on, and went to work draining the water and filling the sink again with hot, a gentle hand on my arm urging me toward the table where your brother with your same eyes was waiting for me while she washed our cups, our plates, placing them gingerly on the drying rack.

In another day, Albert had gone out to visit the neighbors, knocking on the front doors of either side of us and trusting they’d let everyone else know. For a moment, sitting at home, I wondered if they lost themselves a little at the sight of him. Someone at the door -- oh, surely not. Not up and walking again so soon? Surely not. Only your eyes in his head, though they were enough to shock you for just a moment. You could almost swear -- but surely not.

by Thursday, our fridge was stacked with tupperware. Casseroles, chowders, vegetable trays. Soups, fruit salad, a pitcher of sweet iced tea. The whole town dropped by to see us, solemn, in their own procession, beating the cars by a day. Our daughter -- an anchor in my arms. Roasted potatoes. Carrots crisped in honey. Good, strong coffee. The containers arrived with Christian names printed neatly on their sides -- “to keep them straight,” Jeanette had said, making space for the baked apples in the crisper. “I told everybody else to follow suit.” She turned to look at me. “Oh, honey... I know your head just spins.” And spins. Polenta. Gravy. Cheese platter. Vegetable lasagna. “Good country people,” you’d said to me when we arrived, driving through town and waving out your open window at the Innkeeper. The grocer. The woman in the park. “They’ll take care of you.”

We ate from containers for a week, chewing those dishes -- an outpouring of love for you, for me, and our girl, made with such care -- mechanically. But what bliss, even untasting. What a blessing, not to be forced to trade my thoughts of you for wondering what to make for dinner.

Good country people, who loved you like this land loved you, fostering and generous, the foundation upon which you sprung up. Who loved me as an extension of you -- without hesitation.

Who grieve alongside me.

#long post //#my writing #i'm not happy w this ending and feel like i lost my touchstone halfway through this but. it begins well #the important thing... is feeling someone's soul go out through the hole in the roof that the flute of the wood stove passes through #and the narrator saying 'your daughter' when her husband is alive #'my daughter' immediately after he dies #and 'our daughter' in the week that follows #that's it.#if i had half the mind to i'd revise this but i'm all fogged up. strange week. strange wounds.#sorry for typin out the whole damn thing but my handwriting -- while i'm fond of it myself -- i know is hard for some people to read.#plus i slotted some edits into this version. so.

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cullxtheherd · 1 year

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***

ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ: 𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙙 ‘ ✱ ‘ 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙚, 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮, 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙨. 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙮𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙡, 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙 ‘ 𝙐𝙣𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙚 ’.

hi!! askjnfdg since u sent me three i’ll just ?? three answers gO!!!

he may not be a monster in the mythical sense but he is definitely a monstrous muse so let’s get started with this flavor of Bastard, shall we? this version that i write/portray on here and in drabbles/fics/etc is super DUPER traumatized from multiple events and sleep is evasive for him for a multitude of reasons. generally speaking he suffers from night terrors and delusions/hallucinations regularly. what does this mean for a sleeping partner?

being woken at any and all hours with shouting/more and (often) violence/weapons as a product of whatever dream or hallucination he is having. this likely entails:

physical harm - this is potentially a big, very real problem. he is largely unmedicated/untreated aside from semi-regular breathing treatments (he suffers from gulf war syndrome & u can ask me about it anytime) and individuals suffering from the host of mental ailments that he is can certainly be a danger to others at the worst times and be unaware of what they are doing - this is not the normal for everyone, but it is for the crispiest, lasagna-est man i have ever penned

being drawn into a dream/hallucination even if they try to avoid doing so. In my personal experience living with someone who suffered from night terrors/more it is like?? they are aware of certain things (person/s present) but not specifics (name, location, etc); it’s a little hard to explain unless you’ve seen it, to be honest?? but you can look in their eyes and see that they are registering/processing but completely just not there at the moment. this may not be the perfect phrasing for this but i can’t brain correctly enough to make words any other structure rn

mental and/or verbal abuse - he may not realize who you actually are. he may be seeing one or both of his abusers instead. he will NOT remember doing any of this to you later. It IS foolish to expect a reply. It may also be foolish to ask for one depending on what kind of Man he has decided to be for the following day. he is really a stinky bastard man - horrible pepe sasquatch person

I’m not saying that there aren’t normal, quiet nights cozying up by the fire barrel, but? More often than not you are likely to be dodging him. In a world where he’s medicated?? who knows. halelu to the magical AU system!! !

he is cold. i mean FREEZING cold. invest in an electric blanket and some hot water bottles for the bedroom because central heating and a fireplace aren’t going to help when you’re cuddled up to a literal block of 🧊 ice 🧊. surely it can be fun in certain boudoir situations™, but i’d wager that it can be pretty frustrating at times, too!

I feel like this is a pretty obvious thing?? but i don’t really see people ever mentioning this in fics/etc?? so i guess i am (presumably) ALONE in my headcanon for him, but?? ghouls tend to put off a little bit of radiation at, pretty much, all times, right? SO? pack up a few radaway & rad-x if you’re spending a few nights at John’s place in Good Neighbor - without the radiation resistance perk for a smoothskin like you, Coming Prepared™ is probably a good idea 😉

#hi hello im to die now bye

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jinouchibhue · 3 months

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not letting tumblr inbox die: -favorite drink -favorite food -who is your ultimate old man yaoi otp -when you have an idea and are struggling to get it out on your tablet what do you do (til i learned when i have an idea that i'm struggling to form into words i just... CONSTANTLY THINK and THINK until i have an aha! moment)

Orange Juice. CHUG CHUG CHUG. Aldo unfortunately coke. But I love water too. Lub me some water.

Sushi. All kinds. Also crab rangoon. Pizza. Lasagna. SLURP oh and FRUIT

Hold on let me consult The List™.

Oh would you look at that it's Edge x Christian. BLESS.

Honorable mentions: Trevor/Michael (GTA V), Aragorn/Legolas (LOTR) hehe, and Nick Fury/Phil Coulson (MCU) c: oh wait Thorin and Bilbo count too. 🥺🙃

Actually actually actually wait wait wait my ULTIMATE old man ship is Luthe/Darcy. Iykyk 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺

Drawing's a bit different l to writing I think. for drawing I just struggle through it until it passes the ugly phase. literally just got to trust the process

For writing I play it like a movie in my head. But one that's being spoken about as if I'm reading it, if that makes sense . Like coming up with scenarios as you go to sleep but you write it down. I don't think about it I don't know how well that would work if you're like riding a whole plot and not just some self-indulgent whatever bullshit lol

#ask #!!!!!!!#fun!!!

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tiffanycparnell86 · 7 months

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What IS Search Engine Optimization?

Introduction

Duane Forrester works with Bing Webmasters Program as the senior product manager. He’s written two books and owns multiple domains and websites. According to Stukent, he was one of the first hired by a search engine (Stukent, 2020). I watched Forrester’s lecture via You Tube, it is titled Learn the Basics of Search Engine Optimization. I learned what search engine optimization is and how it works; I discovered how to maximize website relevance and organic vs paid search results. I also learned about keyword phrases, keyword research and keyword tools. The speech was very informative.

What Is SEO (Search Engine Optimization)?

Making a website better for the visitor and search engine by providing good/accurate search results is SEO. For example, the user searched recipes for lasagna and the results display recipes for lasagna, the search engine provided what the user was looking for; however, if the results display recipes for spaghetti versus lasagna, the search engine failed to do its job. The goal is “to be the top result of many different searches” (Larson & Draper, 2020, Chapter 4, sect 1). SEO is a slow process; it takes time to build. It’s not something you can do and just be done with; Changes will have to be made as your market and target audience change. Keyword phrases, headlines, URL’s, the web design and layout may have to change in order to give the best product, service and experience possible.

Why WE Need Search Engine Optimization?

According to Chris (2022) “optimizing your website for search engines will give you an advantage over non-optimized sites and increasing your chances of ranking higher.” Remember, the higher you rank, the higher one’s website is placed on the searched results page (Forrester, 2019). Promoting your website via social media has major benefits. For instance, if a website garners results by searching a browser such as Google or Bing, content creators are more susceptible to sharing your website on their platforms. This helps build a community, resulting in more traffic, views, visitors, account setups, purchases and authority.

Websites run more efficiently with the help of SEO. Any online business can gain success with the assistance of SEO. Keep in mind, SEO is a secondary consideration, your primary consideration is website layout/formatting and design (Larson & Draper, 2020); improving a visitor’s experience is the main key.

Keyword Phrases, Research and Tools

Keyword phrases are vital to search engine results. Therefore, a website must be structured so the search engine can do its job most accurately. A search engine determines the significance of a topic based on the words used in or on a page. The keyword phrase is also the most important when considering title and header tags. Building a website’s content around keyword phrases is ideal.

Keyword research can help when deciding what keywords are best for your website and SEO. According to Forrester (2019), a list of good keywords used for your website/business type can be found when conducting research. For example, there are websites that generate this data/information. How popular a keyword is and how frequently it’s being used can be found online as well. There are tools such as Link Explorer, displaying who’s linked to your website as well as your competitor’s website can be found here. There is the SEO Analyzer that monitors traffic, position tracking and keywords, etc. SEO Reports is another tool used to audit your website. Keep in mind you can only see the data regarding your own website, excluding Link Explorer (Forrester, 2019).

Organic Versus Paid and Shopping Ads

Organic results equate to trusted results. Trust is important but it’s something that takes time to build, it’s not instantaneous. The clicks are free, meaning, unpaid and SEO performs here. Paid results are based on an auction system; meaning, how high the ad is on the page is determined by the amount of money paid for the ad. For example, If I pay top dollars to have my ad populate, it will show at the top of the searched results page.

“Shopping ads are another form of search results. These ads usually populate to the right of searched results. Shopping ads don’t have as wide a net as organic ads but more focused than paid ads; these ads are a combination of organic and paid inclusive results” (Forrester, 2019). The main difference between organic, paid and shopping SEO is the cost.

How Is Relevance Maximized?

There are many things that can be done to maximize a website’s relevance. Placing keyword phrases in important places on a webpage is one way to increase relevance. Ensuing images have an alternative text and descriptions attached so the search engine can understand the content is important. For example, bots are incapable of reading images so incorporating keywords where appropriate is necessary. Don’t stifle the website by overusing keywords, this results in the user having a bad experience. Growing social media outlets via affiliates, ensuring conversion is quick and easy, use header tags and put keywords first in the title tag, etc.

Conclusion

Overall, I learned a lot about SEO; I learned there are two types of SEO, onsite and offsite. The formatting of a website’s content is onsite SEO. “The making and distribution of content on a website to develop quality backlinks to a site deal with offsite SEO” (Larson & Draper, 2020, Chapter 4, sect 1).

Improving customer experience is the main goal of SEO. Websites run more smoothly when optimized. A website relevance increases via social media or using affiliate marketing. Also, utilizing different conversion types and through keyword phrases and research. Organic, paid and shopping ads can also help increase exposure and revenue. Search engines determine the importance of the topic in a page by the verbiage used. Remember, create the layout of your website by convincing the search engine your website is the best search result.

References

Business2Community. (2014). The Wordstream Guide To SEO Basics. https://cdn.business2community.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/wordstream-seo-basics-guide.png.png

Chris, A. (2022, November 10). What Is SEO And Why Is It Important? (Reliablesoft, Ed.). Www.Reliablesoft.net; Reliablesoft. https://www.reliablesoft.net/what-is-search-engine-optimization-and-why-is-it-important/

Forrester, D. (2019, September 19). Learn the Basics of Search Engine Optimizaiton. You Tube; Stukent. https://r.search.yahoo.com/_ylt=Awrih2i.TANlSRkRiE0PxQt.;_ylu=Y29sbwNiZjEEcG9zAzEEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3Ny/RV=2/RE=1694743871/RO=10/RU=https%3a%2f%2fwww.youtube.com%2fwatch%3fv%3dDm2KXhBPZDg/RK=2/RS=iv81IIkyWK3q7ViuJrnyv3Y_0Ec-

Larson, J. & Draper, S. (2020, November). Digital Marketing Essentials. Stukent, Incorporated. https://stukent.com/

Webfx. (n.d.). Organic versus Paid SEO. Retrieved September 14, 2023, from https://www.webfx.com/archive/blog/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/seo-meaning-paid-vs-organic.png

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