#this is like one of my favorite post ever

[emphistic]

Revelation

A/N: i must finish this series before it finishes me. this is also only my second time writing on laptop instead of my phone.

<- Series m.list

Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.

It came natural to him — talking to you, I mean.

“Hello?” you asked, putting him on speaker. You didn’t bother moving your phone to your ear, your roommate slept over at her boyfriend’s last night anyway. So you had the apartment to yourself.

A deep, raspy voice answered on the other line with a quick, “Hey,” and you assumed he had probably only woken up a few minutes before he called you.

“Do you . . . need something?” You had to admit, this was quite odd. It was rare for Sukuna to call you so early in the morning, after all, your tutoring sessions were usually in the evening or right after Sukuna got off of basketball practice, which was never before 4pm.

“I’m supposed to need something now? What if I just wanted to talk to you?”

“. . .” You almost dropped your phone on the tiles of the kitchen floor; your silence told Sukuna everything he needed to know.

“What, don’t tell me I can’t talk to my favorite tutor?” His voice held a mischievous tone to it, and the expression painted on his face was no different.

“I’m your only tutor, dickhead.”

Sukuna feigned a sigh, and you almost pitied him for a second. “I just, y’know, miss hearing the voice of the prettiest girl on campus—”

“Sukuna, don’t—don’t do that. Especially not to me.” Chance no. 1 — Those words and the tone in which you uttered them almost made Sukuna think back on the whole bet. If only he had. If only he had listened.

“Do what?”

“You know what.”

“Why not?”

“For fuck’s sake, Sukuna, don’t play coy. It is eight in the morning—”

“I’m serious, though. I just want to talk to you, it’s, ah, lonely over here.” Sukuna twirled a pen he picked up from his nightstand between his fingers.

Lonely? Lonely? Sukuna was lonely? Yeah, he had to be playing with you or something. “Where’s that girl you posted on your story last night then, hm? Was she not up to your liking, Ryomen?”

“Don’t even start.”

You laughed. Sukuna smiled; in all honesty, he really did miss your voice. He had neither seen nor heard from you in days. Coach had been kicking him in the ass lately, telling him to do this and do that, and the injury on his shoulder was really starting to take a toll on his body. He wasn’t allowed to work out, much less, even play ball.

“Are you really serious though? Like, deadass?”

Sukuna paused, before answering moments later. “Why the hell would I not be? Yuuji’s out of town with some of his friends, so I have no one to bother, and no games for a while, either. This is the first time I’ve had — what did you call it? — a lazy morning.”

You couldn’t stifle your giggle. “Is that all you care about? No Yuuji and no basketball?”

“. . . I also have no food in the fridge . . . so that’s that, I guess.”

“Oh, my God! You being miserable is not supposed to be this funny. I can’t.” Sukuna could still hear your laughter loud and clear from the other line even after you set your phone down to clutch your stomach in hysteria.

“How rude of you, Madame President.”

When you realized how casually you were speaking to Sukuna — out of all people, you abruptly regained your composure, and cleared your throat. Yeah, sometimes either you or Sukuna would crack a joke or two during a tutoring session, but you two rarely held a civil conversation without it breaking out into a petty fight or argument about something trivial. So this was certainly new. And, you were also fairly surprised with how natural it felt, as if this was totally normal, and you totally weren’t speaking to the biggest nuisance and bane of your existence.

However, this also wasn’t the first nor last phone call you two would ever have. And usually, speaking while separated also helped keep the peace between you both.

“Are you stable now?” Sukuna teasingly questioned.

Your voice cracked, “Mhm.”

“Good.” Then, he hung up. That was it. That was it. Chance no. 2 — Sukuna should’ve just left it at that. He should’ve never called you another morning, or another evening. But no, he was determined to prove Naoya Zen’in wrong. He could do this. But. . . He shouldn’t do this. And that made all the difference.

Maybe it was a bad idea to immediately start his car and drive to your complex. Maybe it was a bad idea to knock three times, sparing only a glance at the number on your door: 116. Maybe it was a bad idea to enter your apartment. Maybe it was a bad idea. Then again, you were the one who let him in — in the first place. It was a bad idea.

“You said you were hungry, right? I’m making breakfast right now. Wan’ some?”

He should’ve shook his head no, and said, “My fridge is empty. But I’m not hungry,” but he didn’t. Sukuna stayed over for three hours. You two spent the morning sharing a stack of pancakes, and spoke in hushed tones — not for any specific reason — over cups of coffee.

But that wasn’t all. Sukuna began calling you almost every morning after that day. At first, it was an inconvenience, as most of your meetings were in the early hours, but you two came to a compromise and only spoke on the phone for as long as it took you to change your clothes and get ready to leave. However, unbeknownst to you, Sukuna also took the time out of his day. Though it wasn’t much, Sukuna skipped out on his morning jogs to hear your voice. It didn’t matter, anyway, because Coach wasn’t going to let him run if he had a say in this. But he didn’t.

The bet stayed in the back of his mind. Sukuna rarely thought about it. At times, most times, really, it didn’t feel like a bet or a dare or a joke, to Sukuna. It felt real. It felt like he was actually talking to and hanging out with a real person. He was talking to and hanging out with you. And he was enjoying it.

But when Naoya called, and asked for them to meet up after school, Sukuna automatically knew what that little mutt wanted. They agreed on a small diner, close to campus, and not too far from their gymnasium. It was rough, downtrodden, and looked too old to still be running. Nevertheless, no one was supposed to see them here anyway, so it worked.

“Have you two hung out yet?”

The memory of having breakfast at your place was not a distant memory, so Sukuna didn’t mention it. “Not out of school.”

“I assume progress has been slow, then?”

“We’ve started talking more than usual.” Sukuna silently reminisced about all the nights you spent on call together, when either of you couldn’t fall asleep, and about all the mornings you spent eating breakfast together, when Sukuna’s fridge was, like always, empty. But he didn’t mention any of those things.

“You seem to be enjoying this, y’know. I saw the way you dropped her off at her Student Council meeting, don’t think I didn’t.”

Sukuna frowned, but the blond continued.

“You had a smile on your face.” 

That, he did.

“If you don’t hurry up and get her to go out with you, I’m calling off the bet. Money’s gone. No prize, nothing. Make up your mind. Go through with this, or, like the pussy you are, forfeit,” Naoya spat out; his tone was far from benevolent, did Sukuna forget about how this all started in the first place? Chance no. 3 — Sukuna should’ve ended the deal right then and there. But he didn’t; if Naoya thought Sukuna was going to back out of this unsuccessful, he thought wrong.

“You seem to have forgotten who was the pussy in the first place, dumbass. I’ll forfeit when I die.”

“We’ll see about that, Ryomen. We’ll see.”

It was later than usual when Sukuna called you that night, and exhaustion was evident in his voice.

-

“You’re telling me, that, you’ve started hanging out with SUKUNA!?”

“Nobara, shh! At this point, the whole building’s going to know.”

“They should know! This is revolutionary! My friend’s getting laid!”

You shot her a pointed expression.

“Alright, alright, let me just tone it down a bit, my bad, because I’m totally not shocked that my best friend is now talking civilly with the man of her NIGHTMARES!” Her pitch gradually got louder and higher as she continued with her sentence. You curled up into a ball on the floor of your shared living room as the brunette paraded around the apartment waving her arms about and screaming in intervals of only two seconds.

“And, and, not only that, he’s also asking you OUT?!”

“Nobara, oh, my God.”

“‘Oh, my God’ is right. This is — I don’t even know what to say — is this good? Is this great? Are we excited? Are we friendzoning him? What’s—what’s the situation here, girl? Fill me in a little more.”

“Oh, yeah, about that. . . I’m not really into baseball, but I was talking to him the other day about it—”

“Why are you only telling me just now?”

“Anyways, I was telling him about this player who I thought was really cute. Y’know, the guy I showed you a picture of—with the really spunky hair, yeah, that guy, and umm, I guess he took that as me saying I’m into baseball. But I’m not. I have no clue what anything regarding that sport even is, I just—ugh, I need help. He says he has really good seats,” you pinched the space between your brows in exasperation.

“What I’m getting at here is that you don’t want to say ‘no’ because he already paid for the tickets?”

You nodded.

“But you don’t want to say ‘yes’, right?”

When you didn’t respond, Nobara audibly sighed as loud as one could, and slapped her palm on her forehead. “I thought you were better than this. Sukuna? Really? You want to go out with that punkass? The one who — you told me — annoyed the shit out of you back in high school? Girl, something has to be possessing you right now, what the fuck.”

“Okay, okay, deep breaths. Let’s backtrack a little,” Nobara seemed to be the only one not following her own instruction.” So, he’s asking you out on a date, with him, and not another better guy who would be better deserving of you. Yes? Ugh, damnit. Okay, anyway, and you plan on saying ‘yes’.”

“I might’ve already said ‘yes’,” you winced as Nobara looked like she was about to faint.

“Oh, dear Jesus. Do I not exist to you anymore? Why are you only giving me the scoop, like, centuries later? Are we not friends, roommates, anything? . . . Okay, okay, deep breaths, Nobara, deep breaths. . .” She shut her eyes and began to breathe in deeply, over and over again. 

All the while, you tried to contain your own mind. If you really thought hard and long about it, it would seem a little strange that you were going on a date with Ryomen Sukuna. Scratch that, really strange, actually. I mean, how much could a person possibly change over the course of — what, a year? — to go from teasing and bullying you relentlessly, absolutely determined to make your life a living hell, to asking you out on a date. A date? Isn’t that what couples do? Isn’t that what people who like or love each other do? But, you weren’t supposed to like nor love Sukuna. You were supposed to hate his guts, or, at the most, tolerate him. But no more, right?

That’s what Nobara Kugisaki was trying to figure out, as well. But her specific thinking was on a level below yours. As your best friend, roommate, and all the things you could possibly think of, she knew you. She knew your favorite type of sandwich, your favorite music genres and songs, your favorite hairbrush to use, your favorite pair of shoes. She knew you well. But, after some previous events, she now only knew you well enough. She also used to know your type. . . And, Sukuna? Wasn't it, until now, apparently.

“So what’s the game plan?” The sound of her genuinely curious voice brought an abrupt end to your train of thought.

“Oh, um, I don’t know? Just go to the game with him, I guess. That’s all there is to it, right? It’s just a simple date, a simple outing, an evening of fun. Yeah! Let’s think of it that way.” While you tried to act normal about the whole arrangement, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of misgiving about the whole thing. You were actually starting to like Sukuna more than you let on, he made you feel giddy inside, like a little middle school girl talking to her crush, he made you laugh and smile, but, in the end, you weren’t sure if he changed enough as a person to not go back to his old ways.

“That’s all there is to it?” Nobara repeated, not completely understanding your words.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this. After all, Sukuna never referred to this as a date in the first place, it was you, instead, who thought of it as one. I mean, who wouldn’t? Sukuna played it off as, “Me and Yuuji were originally going to go together, but we bought these tickets before he went out of town. And I don’t like baseball that much, either, I’m more of a basketball typa guy — as you know, so there’s no way I’m going alone. And there’s also no way I’m letting sixty bucks go to waste.”

You laughed with him, and said, “So I’m the replacement?”

“Whatever you want to be.”

To be completely honest, you didn’t give it much thought when you quickly replied only moments later, “Sure, I’d like that.”

-

“What the fuck?! He was clearly safe!” Sukuna yelled, standing up from his seat as the rest of the crowd held similar reactions to what was called.

You crossed your legs, remaining seated, and placed a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles. “I thought you weren’t into baseball?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m stupid!” Sukuna extended an arm out in the direction of the umpire, and mumbled a string of curses.

“Was it really that big of a deal? Mind you, you’re the brainy one in this area, not me, for once. You’ve gotta start giving me some pointers.” You cocked your head to the side, and used your hand to escape the harsh rays of the sun.

“Oh really, that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Was my lecture lasting the whole car ride here not enough for you?”

You let out a laugh, “You already know the answer to that.”

“Let me guess, you didn’t listen to a thing I said?”

“Bingo.”

“Sukuna, what are we doing?”

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”

The two of you spoke quietly, whilst sharing a cool milkshake after you unanimously decided it was hot as fuck, and you both were sweating like absolute pigs.

“Y’know. . . What are we doing? What are we doing at a baseball game together? What are we doing spending most nights and mornings on call together? What are we doing on a date together? What are we doing—together?” It was hard enough for you to keep eye contact with someone, you always felt uncomfortable by it, but Sukuna made it nearly impossible. You couldn’t meet his dark eyes for long enough until you had to avert your gaze elsewhere. But sharing a milkshake together? There really was no escape for you.

When the stadium grew boisterous and louder than ever out of the blue, you thought everyone was listening in to your conversation. Then, the logical side of your brain shut that idea down. But, when you and Sukuna turned your heads simultaneously to face the Jumbotron at the same time, you realized.

Inside of a heart-shaped frame decorated in pink and red hearts on the live-streamed video up above was none other than your and the pink haired-man beside you’s faces on the screen. And below your faces, written in bold, large, and white letters were: KISS CAM.

This was it. This was how you would die.

“I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing,” Sukuna turned to look at you with a calmer-than-he-should-be face. “Hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing. But . . . if you’ll let me. . .” His voice trailed off as his eyes languidly moved down your face, until his gaze rested on your lips.

Chants of “Kiss, kiss, kiss” filled the stadium, and grew louder and louder and louder, despite your evidently growing embarrassment.

You don’t know who leaned in first, and to this day, you still don’t know.

Sukuna’s arm — which previously hung around the back of your seat, moved to rest on the small of your back. His other hand gingerly cupped your cheek, and you subconsciously leaned into his hand, relaxing at the feel of his seemingly soothing touch.

A smirk grew on Sukuna’s face, and you waited for an obscene, vulgar joke to come out, but it never did. As your faces got nearer, your noses almost touching as a result, time seemed to come to a halt. You couldn’t even hear the restless crowd anymore. It was just you, and Sukuna. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. Come to think of it, you liked the sound of that, to be honest.

While Sukuna came closer, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he really was. I know, it sounds weird to say, but it was true. In high school, he had his fair share of girlfriends, but you never really paid much thought to it. But now, you know why. It was undeniable. Sukuna really was attractive. Even if you push aside him being built like a Greek god, there were still other aspects to his beauty. His seemingly hypnotic eyes, his defined cheekbones, his tattooed skin, and that sharp jawline of his. It was all so, so beautiful.

You closed your eyes, afraid of what would happen next. But really, there was nothing to be afraid of as his lips met yours in a tender, yet fervent kiss.

This was . . . new. You didn’t expect a kiss from the Ryomen Sukuna to feel this way — not that you ever thought about that, no way. Was he always this gentle? Fuck, why was his hair so soft? While your focus was entirely on the man in front of you, your hands were quite distracted and moved to his nape to play with the little ends of hair there from his undercut.

Earlier, the cries of the stadium were softened and shut out because of . . . something you didn’t know about. (And the author doesn’t know, either.) But now, sounds of the stadium were completely drowned out, for you could only hear the hammering of your own heartbeat in your own chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your mind was wiped completely blank, and you felt lightheaded, beyond dazed, even, as Sukuna caressed your cheek whilst he deepened the kiss ever so slightly. His lips began to move more ravaging-ly, like he was greedy for more. His tongue lightly grazed against your bottom lip, before he gave you lick. Taking the opportunity — as you parted your lips in a gasp, Sukuna added a little bit of tongue into the kiss as well.

The crowd grew wild, erupting into cheers as the sight on the screen grew closer and closer to a mere porno. Some parents were even forced to cover the stares of their curious and confused children 

You swore — for a split second, that you could taste the bitterness of the chocolate syrup from the milkshake you two had shared earlier, which made the kiss feel impossibly more sweeter, and even pleasant, if you will. You felt your face heat up, and your cheeks redden. You just knew he was going to tease you about this later, but did it matter? Not really, no.

The kiss turned sloppy, as Sukuna grew insatiable like the jerk he was, and people in charge of the KISS CAM quickly moved to a different couple, in hopes of keeping things a little more on the PG side.

You were surprised, to say the least, as you found yourself craving more. You grew fond of the feeling of his lips on yours, and you were beyond devastated — a pout evident on your glossy lips, when Sukuna pulled away.

You sank down into the back of your seat, covering your reddening cheeks, and attempting to hide from the world as Sukuna only gave a shit-eating grin to the people around you both.

Was it the beer that made you do all of that? Oh, right. You’re completely sober! God, you wondered what possessed you to do such a thing, much less, on live video! There was no excuse for what you just did. Nada.

“Was it really that bad? — That you had to hide away like a little hobbit?” Sukuna teased, laughing as you continued to get impossibly more red.

He really, really enjoyed this.

#if this flops i might just kms #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader

[sainns]

pining ㅤ ⊹ ㅤ all of enha

gnreader ㅤ୨୧ㅤ 𝓒ontent . . .ㅤ friend!enhypen, pre relationship, this is a revamped post from when i first started my account, sunoo's the craziest one here for sure, a singular death joke, not proofread so pls ignore typosㅤ──ㅤ 817 ( 🗒 )

lee heeseung refuses to let you carry anything. he’s made it a habit of grabbing anything that you’re holding and carrying it himself. whether it be shopping bags, your purse, a stuffed animal that he won for you, or groceries, he will be carrying it all. sure, it may be a little hard carrying 15 different bags of groceries up to your apartment but he doesn't mind. even as you complain, saying that you feel bad that he has to carry everything when you can help, he'll just laugh you off, asking you to let him do this for you. you do a lot for him (unbeknownst to you) and this is the least he can do.

park jongseong asks for your opinion on almost everything he does. he'll ask you if he should buy this shirt or that one, watch looks better, what he should eat. it’s like he lost all ability make choices for himself after he gained feelings for you, only trusting your opinion. maybe it's because he wants to have things that you like, who knows. what everyone does know is that the contanst buzzing coming from your phone? jay. he's most definitely texting you about whatever it is he feigns needing help choosing, but he can't help it if your opinion is the only one that matters to him.

sim jaeyun loves to go shopping with you; he literally begs to be able go even if you tell him that you're just going to window shop. not to mention the fact that he is so serious about shopping; he’ll put his phone on do not disturb, giving you his full attention. when you ask him was store he wants to go to he'll shake his head, claming that this trip is for you and if he reall needs something then he can go on his own time. he always ends up buying your stuff for you, waving you off as he gives the cashier his money.

park sunghoon calls you every single night just so that he can fall asleep to your voice. in the beginning he asks you about your day, listening intently and asking follow up questions. he wants to hear your voice for as long as possible, especially when he went the whole day without talking to you. when you ask about his day, though, he gives you the most basic answer possible and moves the conversation back to you. and every morning, without fail, he claims that he didn't mean to fall asleep but your voice is way too soothing for your own good. you figure that he's not telling the full truth after you hear him say goodnight and he doesn't hang up the phone.

kim seonwoo takes more pictures of you than he does of himself. you swear when you caught a glipse of his gallery you saw an album named 'yn' that featured over seven thousand photos of you. which yes, you saw correctly, he has a very full folder full of pictutes of you. most of them aren't even good but he would rather die than delete the ten, nearly identical, photos of you laughing or the blurry video he got while you were ugly crying because of some movie. he also uses them to tease you—laughing when you tell him to delete it. yeah.. he's almost all out of storage, at this point he's going to buy a burner phone just for photos of you.

yang jungwon loves to texts you updates about his day. if you think jay texts you a lot, oh man, jungwon beats him by twenty miles. he'll tell you his plans who they're with, what he's planning on eating, the cute cat family he saw on the street (pictures included). this man tells you everything, every thought he has it feels like. honestly, he only bothers going out so that he has an excuse to text you, it makes him smile brightly at his phone when he sees your responses. when you start sending him updates about your day? he gets so happy, it's his favorite part of the day to hear from you now, nothing else could ever compare.

nishimura riki does not know what personal space is. he's always touching you in some way, even if it's subtle, like your shoulders pressing together when you're sitting on the couch, watching a movie. when you walk somewhere together, you have to push him away multiple times because he's practically on top of you with how close he is. when you're hanging out with friends, he tends to wrao an arm around your shoulder or lean his head against yours. your friends tease him for it, saying that he's practically apart of you now. he glares at them playfully, gripping your hand in his as he pulls you away (he just really wants to be alone with you).

#ㅤ⠀ ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა ♡ ㅤ⠀ #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enha headcanons #enha x reader #enha x you #enha fluff #enhypen imagines #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #riki x reader

[milaisreading]

Crossdresser!Yn AU when Kaiser tried to make her jealous once:

Kaiser: This will definitely work!!

CD!Yn: What will work?

Kaiser: Oh nothing! By the way, I need to show u all these fans who are sliding in my dms. Looks like I am quite popular with women.

CD!Yn: These look like bots-

Kaiser, taking the phone away from her: Besides the point! Aren't you mad that your favorite striker is being take away?

CD!Yn:... Isagi is over there-

Kaiser: Shut up and make a vague post about this!!

CD!Yn:???

CD!Yn the next day on her twitter: You are in his dms but I am with Lorenzo eating cookies. I don't even know what this is about, but Kaiser told me to post it.

Kaiser replying: Are you stupid?! It's about those chicks in my dms!

CD!Yn replying: You mean those bots?

Kaiser replying: Those aren't bots! And why are you with Lorenzo of all people

CD!Yn replying: Did you ever eat one of his cookies? Those are the bomb.

Lorenzo replying: Hah! Kaiser has bots in his dms!

Charles replying: Pfft!! Kaiser taking Ls!

Isagi replying: Why are you flirting with bots?

Kurona replying: What are bots?

Otoya replying: Kaiser has no rizz!

Noa replying: Isagi, Kurona, Yn, Kaiser, give me your phones.

Lavinho replying: Otoya, you as well

Snuffy replying: Lorenzo, you will be the death of me

Loki replying: Why aren't you studying, Charles?!

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #isagi yoichi #crossdressing #bllk isagi #michael kaiser #otoya eita #charles chevalier #don lorenzo #kurona ranze

[jelly-bean-baby]

one of my favorite things about having made this blog is how much worse y'all are making me. sending me pictures, videos, tributes, toys, threats, insults, praise. when i first got on here, i was scared to post any pictures at all, and i only ever posted clothed stuff. now, i feel like im posting n00ds nearly every day! i wake up every morning so wet and needy from edging the night before that im soaked, so i edge again. yesterday, i walked around my neighborhood with a plug in! id never even touched myself back there until i started this blog! you guys really are the best!

now i just need someone to take the final step and take my virginity haha

#1cky bunny #1cky baby #1cky girl #1cky daughter #1cky sister #r4p3 m3 #rap3toy #r@pe b@it #r3pe #bimbo training #bimbo in training #slvt training #good girl training #bimbo toy #dumb slvt #dumbification #free use slvt #free use kink #mind corruption #mind conditioning #bimboification #use my body #use me pls #cnc kidnapping #cnc stalking #corruption kink #men are superior #objectify me #good girls edge #v1rg1n

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

@throwaway20506 so I'm alerted when this is posted

WIBTA if I asked my boyfriend to pay for things more often?

I'm currently dating a guy who is from a very wealthy family, like. Super wealthy. As in, he lives in a one bedroom apartment downtown in one of the most expensive cities in the USA. He knows a lot of like. Semi famous and famous people. He's currently studying in the city I live in and we met at a gay event. Since he's studying, his actual income is somewhat lower bc he doesn't work all the time, but he has Investments (I'm not sure what that means to be honest, but it's how he pays for stuff like groceries and going out when he isn't working) and his family pays for his rent and stuff. He's obviously not hurting for cash in any way. On the other hand, I'm not destitute or anything but I work two jobs to make ends meet and have three roommates, and generally try to not spend more than I have to.

We both like to eat, so we go out for food sometimes. I've usually picked cheaper options and he tends to go for fancier places, like a place we went had caviar that he ordered? I've always been poor and haven't ever really had any close friends that were wealthy.

I expressed before that I wanted him to know I wasn't trying to take advantage of him for money or anything, and I'm not. He's genuinely a very sweet guy. He's bought me a few gifts before, but I never asked for anything. I want our relationship to be like. Fair and even. So we always split everything cost-wise 50/50. Which can also be kinda weird for me sometimes, w my poor friends if something is cheap (like if we order McDonald's or smth) we're very comfortable spotting each other or just "oh you can get it next time" type thing. But with him every little thing is 50/50.

The thing is, when we split 50/50 at some more expensive places, it's kind of more than I really want to spend going out. Sometimes there really aren't any cheap options on the menu. I've told him before that I don't want to spend a lot when we go out, but I think he just doesn't really have a good idea of what "a lot" is for me, and he really really enjoys these places. I'm also very aware I guess that his going out expenses don't really detract from his ability to do other things because all of his money is pocket money, whereas I need to budget to make sure I can afford non-boyfriend related fun stuff and rent and boyfriend stuff.

I've considered maybe asking him to pay a bit more of a share when we go out, but I'm not sure if that's fair. WIBTA if I asked to split 60/40 or something when we go out? Or maybe cover the meal sometimes? I don't want to tell him we can't go to his favorite restaurant, I just can't really afford it as easily as he can, and I know it won't negatively affect his finances if he pays more since he has. A lottt of money. I also don't usually get a lot, I was taught to always order something cheaper than the other person orders.

#aita #am i the asshole #eyestrain

[bisexualiteaa]

How The Boys Met You

Character list: Soap, Price, Gaz, König, and Ghost

AN: This one is a little different than the stuff I’ve been posting lately, sort of a throw back to some of my old content! I will be getting back to the regular stuff as well, just wanted to post some of the things that have been in the works for a while now! Hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

CW: slight OOC task force 141 + König, deviance from the games, fem bodied reader, possibly poor attempt at writing accents, flirting, talk of dating apps, being stood up, mentions of alc0h0l, mentions of w0unds, mostly fluff, slight suggestive themes, cursing, possible grammar and spelling errors

Taglist: @expirednukacola

John “Soap” MacTavish

- He was at his favorite pub, spending the weekend enjoying a few drinks with a couple of the guys.

- Three beers deep, going on about some stupid story that anyone could tell by the guy’s faces that he’d told a million times already, and every time told it as if they hadn’t all been there to witness it just to get to the butt of a joke.

- ✨Then you walked in✨

- He was speechless as you walked up to the bar. Your cute, form fitting dress on, heels that made your legs look absolutely stunning and your make up all done. You looked too damn good to be sitting in a place like this he thought.

- The only thing off about it all? You had a sad look on your face as you sat down, breathing a heavy sigh before the bartender made his way over to you so that you could order a drink.

- It made his heart hurt to see someone so pretty look so sad, not to mention the guys were totally teasing him and daring him to talk to you.

- The “make your move before I do” ™️

- “I’ll have an old fashioned please, extra cherries” you ordered, and he knew right then and there that you were different than the usual crowd this place pulled in.

- “Put it on my tab, I think I’ll have the same” Johnny spoke, making you turn to look at him, intrigued by his Scottish accent and the fact that he had just paid for you.

- You tried telling him he didn’t have to, but he kindly insisted, making you blush before you thanked him.

- “You look beautiful if ya don’t mind me sayin” he said, making you smile at his compliment, the first one you’d gotten all night. “Thank you! It was a new dress I bought for a date tonight but…I got stood up. So I came here instead to take a little of the pain away” you responded, and he understood where the pain in your eyes came from now.

- “Steamin’ Jesus…someone really stood you up? What ‘n idiot. They really missed out. Ya look stunnin’. Anyone would be lucky t’ go out with a gal like you” Johnny said, making you blush again as you smiled.

- Secretly it made your night.

- “How about I give it a try? We have some drinks, I tell you a little about myself, you tell me about your fine self, and we have a good time in the makin’? I’d happily make up for the screw up they made to get t’ know ya and see ya leave with a smile if you’re willin’. And if I’m lucky, hopefully I’ll get t’ leave with your number so we can have a second one” he said, and rather smoothly at that, making you giggle as you took a sip of your drink. “Alright lover boy, seeing as we have drinks, tell me about yourself” you replied with a grin and he lit up with joy at your humor and you accepting his offer.

- Was better than you could have ever expected, certainly better than the stuffy, upscale place you were at originally. You were glad you ended up meeting someone at the pub he soon figured out that you frequented just about as much as he did.

- Even better? You went home with a smile, he went home with your number in his phone, and both of you went home with a plan for a second date. 💖

Captain John Price

- You were a barista at his favorite cafe he’d been going to for years now.

- When he wasn’t gone on deployment, he would come every day at the same time around lunch time, right before the rush, and leave once it was done.

- He ordered the same thing every time. Hot tea no matter the temperature outside, two sugars and a splash of cream and he would sit in the same spot by the window, reading or working on his laptop.

- You learned he was never terribly big on sweets, assuming he got most of his sugar intake with his drink, but every once in a while you’d slip him a bakery item for free.

- He was convinced it was just you being nice and making sure he had food before returning to work because it was a bad habit he was doing his best to break, but anyone else who knew? Was thoroughly convinced it was your own method of flirting with him.

- Sometimes you would take your break and sit and talk with him, try and get to know him more than just his order, the name he would give you to write on the cup and his phone number for the rewards account.

- One day it had been a particularly difficult day before he’d come in, but upon walking in and breathing in the lovely smells, seeing your bright smile, and hearing you sweetly greet him, he already felt ten times better.

- He returned the sentiment as he walked up to the counter, not even opening his mouth before you had put his order in the POS already, wishing to save him the trouble with how stressed and tired he looked. “A delight as always, love” he said, making you smile again. “Rough morning?” You asked as you made it for him, seeing stress written all over his face made you feel for him. “Very” he responded through a sigh as he took out his wallet while talking to you and watching you make it. “Four twenty nine as usual?” He asked, making you smile as you sat it down in front of him. “It’s on the house today. Please, sit and rest, I’ll have it out to you asap!” you said sweetly. “And if it isn’t too classified, I go on break in ten. I’m happy to lend an ear if you wish to confide your burdens or just to talk” you added, making him smile as he took a seat, pulling a chair out for you for when you were clocked out on break.

- You spent a little over time on break talking, having lost track of the time but it wasn’t busy so you knew it was okay.

- As he was about to leave as you were clocking back in, but it was then that he saw you’d left your number on the back of his cup, making him smile before quickly adding you into his contacts.

- Hello love, this is John. I wanted to say it was lovely talking with you today, thank you for the tea and for making the rest of my day go by much better. ❤️ I’d like to take you somewhere that isn’t the cafe sometime if you’d allow me, what do you say? you read on your phone, making a bright smile stretch to your lips as you excitedly responded and planned a proper date with him.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- Poor Kyle had been on just about every dating app he and the boys could to find to get him the perfect girl to settle down with.

- From Tinder, to Hinge, to failed dates set up by finding people in person, he wasn’t sure if his heart would be able to withstand anymore heartbreak.

- This was attempt number eight, with seven dates failed before this. Why was the dating world so difficult now? He did everything he could to be himself and present himself as someone suitable.

- He swore to himself that if this one didn’t work out, that he would give up on it entirely. After all they do say you don’t find the right one when you’re searching for them, they find you.

- Or at least that’s what the married ones say.

- So when his date was running twenty, almost thirty minutes late to their supposed date, he was hurt but sadly wasn’t shocked either.

- He gave a heavy sigh as he checked his watch, then his phone for any communication from her. No text messages, no calls, absolutely nothing to let him know that his date was on their way or even still on for it.

- You were sat at the bar enjoying a few drinks as you normally do on the weekends, when you saw him walk in and grab a table for two.

- He was a handsome young man in your eyes, nicely dressed in a nice dress shirt, slacks, and a nice jacket seeing as it was raining outside.

- You were slightly saddened to find that he was there waiting for a someone else, assuming he was on a date, but when you’d stolen a few glances his way through the night, you noticed he’d been sitting there for a while and the second person had yet to show up.

- Your heart hurt for him, knowing what it was like to be stood up, it was the reason you gave up on dating all together yourself.

- When more time had passed by and his date still hadn’t shown, you decided to take the faithful leap.

- You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in your system, or just the way that you sympathized with what he was going through, but just as he was getting ready to stand up and walk out, you found yourself walking over to his table.

- “Hey there handsome, I couldn’t help but see you’ve been sitting here for a while. Mind if I join you?” You asked kindly, and he had to admit, it took him back a bit.

- You looked stunning, donned in a nice cocktail dress, your hair and makeup done nicely, he figured you came here often with the way the waiters knew you and your drink order well.

- “Sure, that sounds lovely actually” he replied, his British accent taking you by slight surprise but with a kind smile in return. Maybe this failed date could take a turn for the better after all.

- You two sat and spoke over shared glasses of wine, some food, and got to know each other some.

- You talked of your hobbies, your work, your life goals, your favorite things, over all it had turned out far nicer than he could have imagined it would have been.

- You were both laughing and talking amongst each other when another woman came up to the table, looking dressed for a date and seemingly not very happy to see you sitting in her place.

- “Umm excuse me, I think you have the wrong guy, I’m supposed to be on a date with him” the girl spoke, pointing to him and regarding him as if he were an object of her possession making you turn to her and you fought to stifle a harsh laugh.

- “Oh I’m sorry, were you the one whose seat I’m in? Funny because you’re about two hours late sister. Finders keepers” you replied, trying to wave her off then turn back to Kyle and ignore the woman who clearly stood him up by the hickies all over her neck that were very poorly covered.

- “Excuse me?!” She asked angrily, making you turn back to her once again, only this time more annoyed at her persistence and rudeness. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were dense and rude, I said finders keepers. Should keep that in mind next time when you decide to be late to a date because you were too busy having fun with another” you said, gesturing to her hair that was slightly unkempt and the fresh love bites along her neck.

- It took everything in Kyle to not let his jaw hit the table at your response in his defense.

- He liked you even more now.

- “Oh and newsflash sweetie, that concealer really isn’t your shade. If you want to cover up hickies, find one that matches. Now if you excuse us, we’re trying to have a nice dinner here and I’d really like to get back to the very nice man you decided to stand up” you said, making her angrily scoff and look to Kyle for his defense.

- “Ugh, Kevin! C’mon, tell her to leave! This was supposed to be our night!” She said, making you cringe at her whiney tone and the way she didn’t even know his name.

- “My name’s Kyle and no. She was kind enough t’ come up t’ me when you weren’t here and I’m havin’ a rather lovely time with her. I’m sure the date who entertained you before this would happily take you back. I will not be rude and ask the woman who’s so kindly kept me company to leave because you think you’re entitled to crash our date” he replied, and she did NOT like that one bit.

- “DATE?! Ugh, whatever! I knew I shouldn’t have come here” she said angrily before stomping away once it became apparent that you weren’t leaving.

- He couldn’t have been more relieved, then soon enamored by you. First, you come over to him because you didn’t want him to be alone, then you defend him against his date?

- Where have you been all this time?

- “That was your date? If you asked me, I think you dodged a bullet there” you said with a grin, making him chuckle.

- “I couldn’t agree with you more” he replied, enjoying your company far more.

- “Glad to know you’re having a lovely time with me, because the feeling is quite mutual” you said genuinely, making a blush rise to his face before smiling back at you.

- Once the date was over, you both exchanged numbers, keeping in contact and being sure to step up more dates to come.

- Maybe his married buddies were right, all it took was for him to stop searching and there you suddenly were.

König

- He wasn’t exactly proud of it, but he met you through one of the guys who had set you up with him as a one night stand.

- Someone that would just give him some fun and a chance to relax for a night, with the guys claiming he needed to be “less tense”

- He’d had his fair share of sexual encounters before from past girlfriends and the occasional hookup, but something about you felt different.

- You were kind and sweet, a little shy, and of course really attractive.

- Not to mention the sex was unbelievably good.

- He loved that he was so much bigger than you, that you felt so small in his hands as they slid around your waist and to your hips as he kissed you, and how yours trailed his biceps and hard chest.

- Thought it was cute that you have to get up on your tiptoes to kiss him or to loop your arms around his neck.

- What he loved most was how you toyed with him, how you could be obedient and bratty, you could be dominant and submissive.

- You had an almost chaotic, unpredictable air about you.

- You were the wild card he’s been looking for.

- So as you both laid in his bed, his hand running along your back soothingly as you laid on top of him, naked and enjoying the after glow of the activities you’d just taken part in, the words left him without any second thought.

- “Could we…maybe see each other again, liebling?” He asked, and how you swooned at the nickname and his German accent.

- You thought it was so cute that a man of his stature, someone who looked so scary and big could be so shy.

- “Awww, do I have someone hooked?” You asked in a teasing tone with a devious giggle to match, making him blush at your words.

- “It doesn’t have to be like this again i-if you don’t want it to” he stammered, making you giggle as he tripped over his words a little.

- “I wouldn’t half mind if it was…” you said with a half lidded grin, littering kisses against his neck and chest because truth be told, you were a little hooked on him too.

- “Would you let me take you out? Properly get to know you?” He asked, wanting to treat you right, wanting to show that he had better intentions than just a one night stand if you’d let him.

- He’d have started that way had one of his friends not set this up without him knowing.

- “that sounds really nice” you replied sweetly, liking the idea of maybe seeing where it goes.

- It was adorable seeing the excitement that flashed in his eyes when you agreed, making you giggle.

- “Such a gentleman, I like it” you added, feeling butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach at the thought.

- He gave a chuckle as he rolled you both to where he was on top of you, taking you by surprise at first before looking up at him with that half lidded gaze he couldn’t get enough of.

- “I’ll take you out to dinner, get to know you, treat you right, then we can come back here…and I can be far less gentlemanly” he said through kisses he laid against your neck and shoulder, making you giggle.

- “I’d like that” you whispered in reply as your lips found his once more, a smile donning your lips at the prospect of it.

- He could hardly wait, the guilt of knowing your body first and the rest of you later no longer ate at his conscience as you both were swept up in the moment again.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

- He was a frequent flier to medical more so now than he ever was before since meeting you, and you were the nurse he’d always see to help him.

- Hardly was he ever really there for anything super serious, a cut here, a gash there, an infection from something caught out in the field.

- He rarely ever enjoyed anyone fussing over him, in fact if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t even go to medical for his injuries, more of the type to tough it out with a bottle of whiskey and some pain pills to take the edge off.

- It was your soft touch on his arm as you stitched him up, the way you respected his privacy in not asking him to remove his mask anytime he was there, even the smell of your shampoo as you tended to a cut on his collarbone.

- You would always smile and shake your head, hands on your hip like a mom whose child got back from causing trouble when he would enter.

- “What’s it this time?” You’d ask before he’d show you, then tell you briefly and vaguely about how it happened and groan and complain that it happened at all.

- This time however was far more serious.

- You saw the blood seeping through his shirt, dripping as he walked, his hand clutched to the wound as he saw you, making you all but drop what you were doing.

- “Si? Oh my god, sit, sit! What the hell happened??” You asked, concern evident in your tone, something he’d never really gotten from others before.

- Did he just hear you call him Si? Oh the poor man was hooked without even knowing.

- “Just a bullet sweetheart, had thousands of ‘em fly my way, just unlucky enough this time t’ ‘ave one land” he said nonchalantly but you could tell by its placement that he was in pain.

- “You’ve been shot and you’re just walking in here as if it were nothing? Why didn’t you call me? I’d have come to you! Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re too stubborn and wouldn’t let me” you replied, making him chuckle.

- You had him lay down on his back, slicing open the shirt with a pair of scissors before tearing it so you could get to the wound quickly and with no obstructions.

- And that was the most attractive thing he swore he’d ever seen.

- “An’ here I thought you were suppose t’ take me out on a date before you rip my shirt off” he said dryly, wanting that look of worry and that tense stressed feeling to fall from you, making you laugh.

- “Fuck, well they didn’t teach us that in basics” you replied, making him chuckle as you laughed along with while getting him and your tools prepped.

- “Maybe that was my lucky shirt” he joked once more, making you roll your eyes with a playful grin but you were still worried about him.

- “We can mourn the shirt later, I’m more worried about the bullet inside of you and getting it out first” you added, making him grin beneath his mask as you blushed a little at the sight of him shirtless.

- “Practically skipped dates one through three at this point, seen me down t’ everything above the belt” he said, making you laugh again as you cleaned his wound and prepped your instruments to remove the bullet.

- “Well, maybe if you keep coming back for me to check on you and the progress of your stitches, then in say maybe…four weeks for proper healing, I’ll take you up on a proper date” you proposed, and he couldn’t lie, he liked the sounds of that.

- “Then, maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll skip the shirt and get below the belt finally too” you said, sending a grin and a wink his way, making him chuckle as the clang of the shell casing hit the metal bowl.

- “That means no more getting shot in that time though, or else you’ll have to wait even longer” you teased, making him chuckle again.

- “Fuckin’ torturin’ me luv. Makin’ me wait that long” he replied, making you giggle a little and you figured it was the morphine kicking in that let him be this open with you, not that he hadn’t been before but he was certainly more relaxed now.

- Would mumble compliments under his breath like “smell s’good luvie” “y’ look s’pretty like that” making your cheeks feel as if they were being light on fire and the smile never leaving your lips.

- Little did you know, he secretly would be counting down the days and had more of a reason not to get himself killed out in the field.

#könig cod #cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish x reader #john price #konig #john soap mactavish #cod ghost #captain price #price x reader #konig x reader #gaz x reader

[unlikelypandahologram]

Reasons to ship every single version of MegOP

since Very Dumb Discourse™ exists about whether or not certain versions of this ship are valid, this is going to be THE most positive post about all versions of MegOP. refer back to this post for reasons to ship your favorite version of MegOP if anyone gets weird about it with you. now let us begin!!

G1: goofy '80s faction dads fighting each other in a denny's parking lot every week LET'S GOOO, that shit is fun as fuck. orion pax also totally had a celeb crush on megatron before megatron ruined that and shot him and his pals 😔 and there's a lot of angst you can add with megatron becoming galvatron and optimus coming back to life to see how much he's changed!

BW: it's the sheer fucking comedy gold factor of a newly minted college graduate and a terrorist dinosaur IMMEDIATELY singling each other out on a prehistoric rock and deciding to call their daily gang slap-fights the BEAST WARS, what iconic drama queens LMAOOOO. also, megatron made his final body in BM look like optimal optimus SPECIFICALLY to fuck with him, and that's just...incredible

UT: the fact that megatron CANONICALLY acted like a grieving widower over optimus after he died in armada is. amazing. never forget their absolutely insane obsession with each other that they can never EVER give up on played a direct part in unicron nearly ending the world <3

Bayverse: this is the one continuity of all fucking things that gave us the lore about megatron being prime's lord high protector. absolute galaxy brain writing from the tie-in comics. also these two would ABSOLUTELY have the messiest, nastiest, most brutal hate sex imaginable, and that's beautiful. <3

Animated: optimus being a rookie washout underdog and megatron being a super scary much older warlord is a really interesting and underrated fresh take on their dynamic! lots of fun to be had with exploring what their relationship would be like after megatron finally acknowledged him as his archnemesis, lol. also...age AND size difference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prime: do i even need to say anything, i'm pretty sure that one flashback still of orion and megatronus being friends is responsible for birthing a million shippers for this pairing alone LMAOOOO. the bitter ex-boyfriends energy was TRULY off the charts in this show, it's a damn shame megatron never appeared in RID15

Cyberverse: same bitter ex-boyfriends energy but this time with dates at maccadams. megatron also dies encouraging optimus to beat the unhinged alternate dimension megs AAHH THE ANGST

IDW1: they're both depressed gay war criminals in this one who CONSTANTLY live in each other's heads rent-free and that's amazing, lmfao. also, megatron becoming an autobot means this is one of the VERY FEW continuities where it's not nigh impossible to figure out a way to give these two a happy ending together in fanon

IDW2: space date space date SPACE DATE. they were falling together and everything. megatron also LITERALLY tells optimus to open himself to him...to give him the matrix...yeah megs my dude i'm sure that's the ONLY thing you wanted from optimus "opening" himself. toootally positive, lol

G1 Marvel: megatron was SUPER fucking pissed and weird as shit about the time optimus died over a video game. it counts

Dreamwave: their first fight had megatron urging optimus to join him AND they disappeared together in a space bridge explosion once which is like, a fanfic-esque setup for them to be alone. also i'm pretty sure this is the continuity where optimus accidentally gave megatron a lobotomy, so...uh...potential for angst is to be had

SG: mirror universe!! evil crazy villain optimus with noble goody-goody hero megatron has so much potential for absolute chaos. bonus if you also bring in the normal versions somehow through multiverse shenanigans <3

KP: the only way this version of prime can redeem himself from the creepy underage human girl bullshit is if he gets a good hard dicking from megatron. next

Prime Wars: huge "ex-husbands go on a road trip with their disgruntled daughter" energy here. megatron also LITERALLY says "oh optimus, if only you could see me now" <3

Earthspark: again...need i say why? they're pals and working together from the get-go, what's not to ship??

Skybound: optimus literally wears megatron's arm. truly beautiful <3

TF One: it's not out yet but give it time. the entire movie is going to be about orion and d-16 being madly in love and tragically breaking up, baby!!

#if you're wondering why i didn't include the wfc trilogy it's because those shows fucking suck and i hate them LMAO #transformers #maccadams #megop #edited after the fact to include the new comics lol

[fandom-relapse]

Baby box

Prompt: Moments by Mary Oliver

Fandom: 911

Character / Pairing: Buck/Eddie

Time to write: 46 minutes

Rating: T

Eddie has spent years carefully tucking away his love for Buck. If it were just him, maybe he would have found the courage to say something about it. But nothing worth doing is without risk, and he can't take that risk for Chris.

But there are moments that cry out to be fulfilled; they can only be postponed for so long.

Eddie finally caves when the Buckley parents swing through town like a tornado, leaving everything untouched except a path of destruction directly through Buck.

He knows that some parents have a favorite child, but making it so obvious, displaying it so brutally? They're sat on his couch, Chris at school, and he flinches as Buck tells him about Maddie's baby box, and how he had asked about his own--"like an idiot," Buck says, eyes watery--and how there wasn't one. How he was made for spare parts. How he truly wasn't wanted. He wants to bundle Buck into his lap and hold him. He wants to tell Buck how much he loves him, how much he is wanted.

"I--," and he chokes around the words I want you, berating himself for his inability when Buck turns to him with the saddest puppy-dog eyes he's ever seen. "Wait here," he amends.

Later, he'll wonder what part of it was conscious, this perilous decision to show this to Buck, his grave accumulation of idiocies. He has berated himself over this for so long--creepy, weird, unnecessary, he has admonished himself in his darkest moments.

Nevertheless, he returns carrying a small cardboard box and hands it to Buck, who stares at it for a moment.

"W-what is this?" Buck asks, wobbly, adorably.

Eddie breathes. "Just look," because he can't say, "my heart."

So Buck looks, and Eddie stops breathing as he watches Buck sort through their life, Buck's-life-in-his: tickets to Us, the first movie they saw together alone; photobooth pictures from the pier, which Chris had insisted upon; the post-its they'd left in each others' lockers after they had lost their phones in a rescue (come over for dinner? -e; as long as you're not cooking -b); a program from each of Chris's school plays that Buck had insisted on attending with him (a lot). And more, so much more.

It was all there, Eddie's pathetic assemblage of life-tokens, because he wouldn't be okay if something happened to Buck and there wasn't anything left of him, because this stupid box was all that had gotten him through Buck's close calls. Because maybe their best-friendship could be enough for Eddie, but God did he want more.

He is pulled from his reverie by Buck's arms around him, and Buck's warm breath in his ear, as he whispers, "thank you." And Eddie breathes again.

Well, he's come this far, hasn't he?

His heart is still beating, isn't it?

He's not in chains, is he?

So he says, "I love you. You are wanted. Here." He offers a silent prayer that this doesn't break BuckandEddie into Buck and Eddie, because he's not sure his heart could handle that.

"I love you, too," Buck murmurs.

#911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #ficlet

[strandnreyes]

9-1-1: Lone Star Ask Game

I’ve noticed that a lot of ask games are about personal things or content creation, but one of my favorite things about being on here is talking about the show!! so I’ve created a list of questions that anyone can participate in by reblogging and having people send asks, or just answering directly if you’d like! feel free to also reblog and add more questions!! or make a separate post and I can link them all to a master post! 🤍

🗓️ When did you start watching the show?

👀 What made you keep watching the show?

❤️ Favorite part of your favorite ship?

🫂 Favorite platonic pairing and why?

🚨Emergency most likely to make you sob

😶 Unpopular opinion, respectfully

🔀 If you could transfer one storyline to someone else’s character, who and what would it be?

🦋Give us a headcanon about (insert character)!

🐠Give us a headcanon about (insert ship)!

💓 Here’s yours chance! Pour your heart about that one storyline/scene you passionately love

🧥Whose fashion do you like the best?

✨If you could change any detail of any storyline, what would it be?

🤹‍♀️ Give a hidden talent to all the main characters (or those of your choosing)!

🍪 What if Nancy had to quit after the DNR storyline? What does she do instead of being a paramedic?

💍Describe what you think Grace and Judd’s wedding was like

🙄Pettiest thing tarlos has ever gotten into an old married couple fight about?

🚒 Quick! You’re suddenly a part of the universe! What do you do?

🤡 What’s your biggest clown moment in the fandom? Or what are you clowning over that you know will never happen?

🦎 Real talk, do Carlos and Lou ever become friends?

💭Dream season 5 storyline?

📦Character most likely to move away from Austin

👨🏻‍🚒Favorite out of Owen’s (many) love interests?

👩‍💻Time to get meta. Which character secretly has a tumblr blog and writes the best fanfiction you’ve ever read?

📺 Duo most likely to dominate on a tv game show?

🔪 What character are you defending with your life?

⛰️What’s one hill you’ll die on regarding this show? (the more trivial, the better)

#911 lone star #fandom asks #911 lone star fandom asks

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

The Lark Ascending: A Chaconne Story (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Five years after leaving your heart in New York to chase your dreams in Vienna, you're finally a rising star in the classical music world. After scoring your biggest gig yet- a soloist job for a summer concert series in LA- you discover that the past isn’t as distant as you’d thought.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Hello friends, welcome to the Chaconne sequel, The Lark Ascending! This story is very near and dear to my heart and I’m so excited to be posting it. The inspiration for this fic is from one of my favorite pieces of the same name, The Lark Ascending. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to let me know what you think!

Being a musician was all about sacrifice; you had to be willing to get to the top by any means necessary. You couldn’t just give it your all, it had to be more than that. But what happens when that wasn’t enough? What happens when you have it all just within reach, but no matter how hard you try you can’t quite get there? Those were the questions you had asked yourself when you first moved to Vienna. It seemed like no matter what you tried, how many hours you practiced, it wasn’t right. There was something missing. You did everything you should have, you moved to Vienna (although that wasn’t entirely your idea to begin with), you performed night after night with your blood, sweat, and tears, all while healing a broken heart.

It felt like you had all of the pieces to the puzzle in front of you, but they didn’t fit together. Or rather, you didn’t fit. There was something missing, and no amount of practicing could fix that. There was a small voice in the back of your mind whispering that there was a reason you didn’t make it into the Manhattan Symphony. Agatha would always say how much progress you were making, how much potential you had, that there was promise, but you wondered just how true that was; how much of it she really meant. You had been doing a lot of thinking on your relationship with Agatha lately.

The first few months after you moved to Vienna, you couldn’t even say her name without crying. There were reminders of her everywhere you turned. The coffee shop near your apartment, the rehearsal hall where you spent most of your time, every park you strolled through. You’d stumble upon small things, like a review for a new play, or interesting theories on post-modern music, and subconsciously want to share them with her. A beautiful sunny day, the flowers blooming in the ground, the wind whistling in the distance, the way the dew sparkled on the grass after a thunderstorm, everything was Agatha. You knew they called Vienna “The City of Dreams”, but you never anticipated all of your fantasies to revolve around the same woman. How were you supposed to get closure when she was thousands of miles away?

Your solace came, unsurprisingly, in the form of music. Vienna was the birthplace of some of classical music’s great forefathers, and there was inspiration all around you. Performing with Natasha and her chamber orchestra was like a breath of fresh air, and with every performance you slowly found yourself again. It wasn’t entirely true when they said time heals all wounds, because you weren’t sure you’d ever heal from the scar of leaving Agatha, but with every month that passed you found it hurt less and less. You often thought you would always love her, but this was for the best, you knew it was.

Eventually, it felt like everything was falling into place. Performing with a prestigious group that featured world renowned soloists like Wanda Maximoff meant you were able to make the right connections. You worked harder than you ever thought possible, and channeled your grief into your music to push you forward. It paid off in the end, and with Natasha and Wanda’s help you eventually entered a rising soloist contest.

Getting over your fears of inadequacy was another story. You knew that the one thing that was missing was your ability to believe that you were good enough; that you had always been good enough. No amount of practicing could convince you of that either, it had to come within yourself.

In the days leading up to the competition, you had a breakdown in front of Wanda that changed the way you saw yourself.

You set your violin down on the piano, ignoring Wanda’s concerned glance in your direction. “I think I need to drop out of this competition. I’m nowhere near ready.”

Wanda frowned, looking over the sheet music you had handed her earlier. “What are you talking about? You have everything memorized. You sound really good.”

“I don’t feel ready,” you argued, staring at the floor, trying to ignore the tightening of your chest at the thought of competing that weekend.

“No one ever feels ready for these sorts of things,” Wanda pointed out, and you knew she was trying to help, but you weren’t in the mood to hear it.

“I’ve never had the best luck with these sorts of things,” you reminded her. “I think I need to accept that this kind of dream isn’t feasible for me.”

“Why do you keep getting in your own way?” Wanda questioned, moving the sheet music to the side, her tone curious.

“I’m not getting in my own way,” you politely informed her. “I’m being realistic.”

“Nothing about this, about what we do is realistic,” Wanda corrected you, standing up from her seat. “I never thought I’d make it as a soloist, but I had to believe in myself enough to try. If you can’t even give yourself that, then you’re right; this isn’t feasible for you.”

Her words sat with you for a moment, and as you took it in, you felt the tightening in your chest begin to break until you could breathe again. She was right, you knew it deep down. As silly as it sounded, you had to give yourself a chance.

That ended up being the first competition you ever won, much to your surprise and Wanda’s delight.

Things began to look up after that. You slowly entered more competitions, and eventually you made enough of a name for yourself to begin soloing with various orchestras. It was nothing you could have ever imagined in your wildest dreams, but it was real. You did it. In spite of the heartache and pain, you did it all.

The past year proved to be your busiest yet. You had been booked solid with performances across the U.S. with a wide variety of orchestras, and your schedule wasn’t slowing down just yet. You would be spending your summer in Los Angeles, and you were still in disbelief.

If you had told yourself five years ago that you would be the featured artist in residence of the Los Angeles Symphony’s summer season, you would have thought it was a joke. Being the premiere performing symphony on the entire west coast, they had a stellar reputation and drew in huge crowds. Stephen Strange was a legendary conductor who you had always dreamed of getting to work with. It almost felt too good to be true.

You made it to the symphony center a little earlier than you planned, but with the unpredictability of LA traffic you didn’t want to risk being late. All that was on your agenda for the day was a meeting with the CFO of the board, Tony Stark, and a short rehearsal. But, you were hoping to get a quick peak of the concert hall while it was still empty. There weren't many people around this early in the day, but you had little trouble navigating yourself around until you found the backstage door.

The concert hall was pitch black, and you fumbled with the switches backstage before managing to flip on a single stage light. You wouldn’t need anything more than that, surely. Stepping on the stage you looked out at the vast concert hall, which seemed to hold hundreds of empty seats, and you pictured what it would be like to step out to thunderous applause. None of your previous experiences performing as a soloist had ever been for an audience of this size, and you silently came to the realization that the crowd at the Hollywood Bowl would be even larger. A familiar tingle of nerves coursed through your system as tiny thoughts of doubt twirled around your brain. Were you ready for this?

Absentmindedly tapping your fingers against the music stand at the podium, your eyes swept across the room. A quick glance at the schedule confirmed that no one from the orchestra would be here until later in the evening, so you’d have the place entirely to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you unpacked your violin and began to tune, taking note of how the sound bounced all around the walls, and gradually felt yourself relax. It was funny, you mused as you lowered your violin, how easy it was for you to discredit how much you had accomplished over the past few years. You weren’t just some conductor’s assistant anymore, you were a professional violinist, and a good one at that. It was unclear if your hesitation to accept your success came from the fear of being considered overly cocky, or if it derived from years of low self esteem and an inferiority complex.

Taking another long, calming breath, you swept those thoughts aside. Raising your violin, you rolled your shoulders back, turning so you were facing the front of the hall. It would be foolish to play the entire piece hours before rehearsal, as you would be wasting energy that you would desperately need. Performing was a lot like running a marathon, you couldn’t blow through everything you had in the first few miles and be left with nothing for the end. No, you needed to be intentional with every movement of your bow and shift of your fingers up and down the fingerboard.

The Lark Ascending was a majestic sixteen minute piece that was filled with swooping melodies as the violin sang higher and higher with every measure. Vaughan Williams was a composer during the late Romantic Era, crossing over into the Contemporary, and he had been inspired by a poem of the same name written by English author George Meredith. Vaughan Williams was able to create such stirring imagery with the notes on the page, that it was easy to get lost as you were playing and get transported to this dreamy, astral realm. Filled with a gorgeous blend of vivid colors and clouds, you felt like the lark Vaughan Williams was depicting, soaring through the clear skies.

The piece was filled with vulnerable cadences where you played without the orchestra’s accompaniment acting as a safety net in case you fell. You had to be completely sure of yourself, a hint of hesitation of your fingers or incomplete bow changes would ruin this picturesque painting. Rolling your bow to the frog, you internalized what you wanted your first note to sound like, settling on working on your opening phrase. Placing your fingers on the string, you closed your eyes and began. Your introduction was a stunning cadenza, with the tempo gradually increasing as you began your opening runs, your fingers gliding across the strings.

There was freedom with the tempo, allowing you to take your time and savor each note, your vibrato ringing through the hall. As you climbed higher and higher into the stratosphere it almost felt like you were the lark, ascending into the open air. Performing like this had unlocked a new sense of freedom you always yearned for; the countless hours of practicing turned into an almost effortless sight to any audience. It was as natural as breathing, and each exhale you took matched the strokes of your bow. Nearing the end of the phrase, you tried a new stylistic technique as you shifted your fingers gradually down the fingerboard, making note to try it again later at rehearsal.

As your bow stopped moving you made a few other mental notes of where you could add more vibrato, or improve your dynamics, when all of the lights in the hall turned on, snapping you out of your inner thoughts. The abrupt sound of loud clapping is what startled you the most, as you thought no one else would be using the stage until tonight. You turned around to find the stage door was still ajar, just as you left it, but you noticed a figure lingering in the shadows, and you nearly jumped at the sight. The building was secure enough that you weren’t going to be murdered, right?

“Can I help you?” You asked as politely as possible, setting your violin in its case.

“I have to say, dear, you certainly know how to leave a girl wanting more,” A familiar voice rang out, amusement clear from their tone as they stepped into the light. “You must have had an excellent teacher.”

Agatha Harkness leaned against the door frame, hands folded across her chest. Her dark hair was splayed against her shoulders in their usual messy curls, and you were surprised to find her in more casual attire consisting of a pair of black jeans and a lightweight button-up sheer white shirt. She arched an eyebrow at your shocked expression

You felt your heart stop as you stared into a familiar pair of blue eyes. “Agatha?”

Her lips twisted upwards, smirking, a familiar glint in her eyes. “Surprised to see me?”

Time stood still as you were frozen in place, millions of thoughts dancing around your brain. You were unsure if it had been five seconds or five hours, all you could do was try to remember to breathe. Agatha was here, but how was she here? Were you imagining it? It wouldn’t have been the first time, as you’d lost track of the number of appearances she had made in your dreams over the years. They were all of slightly different variations, but would all end in the same heartbreaking fashion of reconciling with the conductor and feeling a sense of happiness you’d long forgotten…until you inevitably woke up alone.

Blinking, you took a timid step towards her, your hands uncomfortably folding behind your back. “Agatha, what are you doing here?”

Ignoring your question, she walked over to your violin case, and, despite your protests, she picked up your violin, examining it. “I see someone got a new instrument.” Gently turning it, you watched her trace the scroll, her fingers dancing around the pegs. “A shame, really, I was quite fond of your old one. But this is nice too, I suppose. What is it? Italian? German?“

“Swiss, actually,” you lightly corrected her, holding out your hands, signaling for her to hand it over.

As she disregarded your wishes for a second time, you felt a familiar pang of annoyance at how stubborn she could be. Picking up your bow, she raised your violin, setting the bow on the string, before releasing and producing a G-major chord. As the chord echoed throughout the hall you relished in the sound. Agatha had rarely used your violin before. She had always insisted that her talents remained with conducting and the piano, but you recalled a few memories of convincing her to play a scale or two on your violin.

You were normally extremely protective over your instrument, often refusing to allow anyone else to even hold her. However, you recollected, it had never been like that with Agatha. There had been some deep, unspoken level of trust that you had never felt with anyone else.

“Impressive,” Agatha remarked, appearing to admire the sound quality, before finally handing it back to you. Her hands briefly brushed against yours as you wrapped your hands around the neck of your violin, and it was as if you had been zapped by lightning.

But as quickly as the sensation overcame you, it was gone. Agatha retracted her hands, deep blue eyes boring into yours with the same intensity she always seemed to carry.

Clearing your throat, you broke eye contact, feeling the weight of her gaze still on you. “You never answered my question. What are you doing here?”

The conductor released a thoughtful hum, as you watched her move towards the edge of the stage. “Now is that any way to greet the Los Angeles Symphony’s guest conductor, dear?”

Guest conductor? Your face scrunched up, surprise coloring your features. None of your recent internet searches of the conductor revealed she would be in Los Angeles for any upcoming performances. Now, you weren’t exactly stalking Agatha, that would be creepy. You just liked to occasionally see what she was up to. That was normal, right?

“Tony never mentioned a guest conductor when I spoke with him earlier,” you pointed out, leaving out your internal ramblings as you were sure Agatha would get far too much pleasure from hearing you had looked her up.

“Well, it appears that Stephen contracted a rather nasty stomach bug, and I just happened to be in the area.” Agatha explained, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Now, you weren’t claiming to be an expert geographer, but something in your gut told you that she was lying. “So you just happened to be in California when you live on the East Coast?”

“Something like that,” Agatha tossed out, teasing you ever so slightly, and you scoffed.

She had always been elusive; that had been part of her charm. You never entirely knew what to expect when you were dealing with Agatha Harkness, and that used to excite you. She often reminded you of a raging hurricane, with her occasional fits of anger and passion all mingling together like the waves crashing against the shore. There had been a gentler side to her, of course, located in the eye of the storm. That had been the Agatha you were most familiar with, underneath all of the sarcastic quips and horrible temper was the woman you had once fallen in love with.

Nothing about her had ever been direct, which nearly drove you mad. But the subtlety of how she offered her affection more than made up for it. Nearly every night she insisted on driving you home, and you had quickly learned she detested the subway. She had been horrified when you had revealed you almost never cooked, so she made a point to teach you her favorite recipes (while only gently mocking your lack of skill in the kitchen in the process). It was clear she hadn’t been used to expressing her emotions, but then again you had never been an expert in that field either. Still, she loved you in her own way, and deep down a small part of you knew she loved you enough to let you go all those years ago.

But standing here now, you couldn’t help but wonder what she was really doing here. Did she know you were set to premiere with the orchestra? There was a fleeting thought where you dared to wonder if she came here for you, but you knew that was too foolish to even imagine. It had been so long without any word from her, why would she come to you now? You had performed with a few other orchestras in the States over the past year, and there had been a few brief moments where you hoped she would show, but she never did.

She was looking pleased, far too pleased for your liking. A rather dark thought crossed your mind, and you shot her an incredulous look. “Oh my god, did you do something to Stephen?”

Agatha let out a loud cackle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m a conductor, dear, not a homicidal witch. What exactly do you think I could have done, beat him up with my baton?”

That painted a rather interesting image in your head, but you frowned at her, unamused. “You’re not going to tell me what you’re doing here, are you?”

“You always were a fast learner, darling,” Agatha quietly remarked as she took a step towards you, the once familiar pet name sounding foreign on her tongue. “I must say, I was surprised to learn you had selected Vaughan Williams.”

“Why?” You questioned, noting how she slowly inched her way closer to you.

“I suppose I assumed you’d pick something with more flare. Tchaikovsky perhaps, or Sibelius.”

Shrugging, you vaguely called to mind one of the first things Agatha had ever said to you. “I don’t know, I guess I always preferred something more subdued, you know?”

You watched her eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint, and it was clear she knew what you were doing. “Something more subdued, hm? Not a fan of the dramatics?”

“I think that’s much more your genre of choice than mine,” You retorted, feeling the air in the room begin to thin as she circled you like a shark.

Agatha stepped in even closer, and her fingers reached up, playing with the loose strands of hair that fell around your shoulders. You felt your body react to her touch, a sensation you’d long forgotten. “You cut your hair,” she murmured, so low you could barely hear her.

“You haven’t seen me in over five years,” you pointed out, feeling a wave of nerves hit you over having her so close. “I’m sure my hair’s changed a lot since then.”

“It looked longer in Chicago,” she mused, still twirling the strands around, and you were stunned. Chicago? Your most recent performance was with the Chicago Philharmonic last month, and that would mean that…was she there?

“How would you know that?” You pressed, and her fingers ceased their movements, as you searched her eyes for a glimpse into what she was implying.

You could feel millions of unanswered questions dancing between the two of you, the tension thick in the air. Agatha’s hands abruptly dropped your hair as if she had been burned, and you briefly yearned for her touch again.

“My assistant showed me a recording of the performance on their phone,” Agatha explained, folding her hands against her chest. “Your stage presence certainly has improved, but you were late coming out of your cadenza.”

Ignoring the slight dig, your brain honed in on what she said prior to that. Her assistant. You couldn’t help but ask yourself if she had kept the same assistant since you left. A brief, but intrusive, thought made you wonder if the dynamic between Agatha and this new assistant was similar to the one you once shared. Did she call them the same terms of endearments she had bestowed upon you? Did she introduce them to her favorite old movies that you used to beg her to turn on? Did she go out of her way to fluster them, as she once took pleasure in doing to you?

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t as if you were together anymore, Agatha was free to do what she liked and to see who she pleased. You had a few short-lived, meaningless flings while living abroad, so it would be hypocritical to judge her. But, there was a voice screaming deep inside you, questioning how special your time together truly was if she could have replaced you so easily?

“Right, your assistant.” You tried your best to keep the bitterness from seeping through, but could practically taste the venom in your mouth.

Agatha raised her eyebrows, but refrained from commenting on your change in tone. Instead, she turned to walk down the stairs of the stage, leading to the aisle. “I only heard the last few bars of your cadenza, and it isn’t terrible, but it could certainly be better. Now, I don’t have my score on me, but it sounds like you’re losing too much momentum as you come down the fingerboard.” She sat a few rows back from the stage, crossing her legs together. “Could you take it again from your last run, and try to make your decrescendo last longer? We want to elongate these phrases to draw the audience in.”

There had been a time when you would have done anything Agatha had asked of you without question. Your daily practice sessions with the conductor had been grueling at times, as she was incredibly nitpicky, and had an impeccably well-trained ear. Any missed entrance or a note that was even just a hair flat she would pick up on. You had worked with a lot of gifted musicians in the past, but none of them could dream of coming close to Agatha Harkness. She wasn’t just a conductor, she possessed the rare ability to take the notes off the page and transform them into these brilliant, colorful works of art.

You used to live for her praise, and would often go out of your way to receive it. It had been your worst fear to disappoint her somehow, even if it meant sacrificing your own dreams to please her. But things were different now, you weren’t her assistant anymore. The burning desire to gain her approval still lingered somewhere within you, but it wasn’t as strong anymore. You knew that you would be okay without it, as you had to learn to live without her.

Giving her a pointed look, you decided to test the waters. “You do realize you’re not my boss anymore, right? I don’t have to just do whatever you say.”

Agatha looked momentarily stunned, and you could practically watch the gears turning in her head. “If I recall correctly, you used to enjoy having me tell you what to do.”

Looking down, you forced yourself to not remember just how much you used to enjoy that. Clearing your throat, you thought of something to fire back with. “Well, they do say memory is the first thing to go.”

“Funny, dear.” Agatha deadpanned, but as you lifted your head you were able to see the corners of her lips were turned upwards. “But I’m not paying you to just stand there and look pretty.”

“You’re actually not paying me at all, the orchestra is.”

“Technicalities,” Agatha said dismissively, waving her hand to signal you to hurry up. “And as you just so kindly pointed out, I’m not getting any younger. Any day now.”

It was clear Agatha wasn’t going to let up, and you weren’t in the mood to keep arguing with her. Grabbing your violin, you gently rested it under your arm. “Should I start at my last entrance?”

Agatha had a thoughtful expression on her face, and you couldn’t help but focus on her fingers tapping out indecipherable rhythms on the top of the seats in front of her. “Hmmm, let’s take it from the top. Do you need your sheet music?”

Shaking your head, you raised your violin. Placing your bow on the string, you tried to rid yourself of the nerves you could feel start to overtake you. Your first few notes rang through the hall as you tried to perfectly time each shift of your fingers and vibrato. Everything had to be fluid; any jerky bow changes or careless finger placements would risk destroying the exquisite illusion you were painting. Some violinists would claim the most challenging pieces to perform were the ones with incredibly fast passages that were often impossible to master. Your brain had to be a few steps ahead of your nimble fingers so you could anticipate what the next notes would be, and one small slip up would send you tumbling down.

While you agreed that exuberant pieces were extremely difficult, you would argue that the hardest pieces to perform as a soloist were the more melodic ones. The pieces filled with stunning melodies, warmed up by gorgeous vibrato. They weren’t packed with thrilling runs up and down the fingerboard, instead they were notated with sweet, heartbreakingly beautiful lines that required you to pour your heart out. Yes, it was scary to have to nail a few hundred notes coming out one after another, but the hardest feat to master on the violin was the ability to play achingly slow, glorious passages. It was to fully captivate an audience with every elegant swish of your bow and dance of your fingers on the strings.

You were so swept up in the notes you had memorized in your brain, you barely heard the soft creaking of the stairs leading up to the stage. There was a particularly bare section halfway through your cadenza, where you were so high up the fingerboard that you needed to extend your elbow to allow your fingers to reach. It wasn’t good enough to merely play the right notes; you had to be confident your left hand was pressing down on the correct spot on the string, while your right hand held the bow but didn’t press too hard down. If you applied too much pressure when you released the bow, it would produce a screeching noise on the string.

Continuing on, you kept your fingers on your bow relaxed, but you could gradually feel your shoulders begin to tighten. This happened on occasions when you were feeling particularly nervous or antsy, and it was usually difficult for you to relax them. As you tried to refocus your breathing and attempt to get your body to calm down, you could feel a familiar presence lurking in the background. Even though you could not see her, you knew she was right behind you. You had found yourself in this exact scenario with the conductor too many times to count. She would always promise to stay in her seat while you were playing for her, but would almost always end up on the stage within mere moments.

As if she could sense you about to stop playing, you heard her voice ring out. “Don’t stop now, dear. I’m just observing something.”

You wanted to turn around and ask if she was observing your ass, but you knew she would merely retort with something to make you blush furiously in response. So you kept going, trying not to picture what she was doing.

As the line slowly started to take you down the fingerboard with every new phrase, you put all of your attention into your intonation. You could hear her take yet another small step towards you, to the point where she was nearly pressed up against you.

“You need to relax.” Agatha uttered, so close to whispering in your ear that you reflexively shivered. She put one hand on your shoulder, rubbing gentle circles. “Your posture is giving me horrible flashbacks.”

It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to remember the correct notes when she was closer to you than she had been in so long. Her other hand rested on your hip, the sensation almost causing you to drop your violin. It had been so long since you last felt her touch, and you could just barely hold onto the melody in your memory. A small voice in the back of your brain begged for more, but you ignored it.

“Relax.” Agatha repeated, her voice firmer this time, and you felt your body obey her command. Your shoulders finally went down to their correct position, but her hands stayed on you. “There we go, good girl.”

Your brain buzzed at her words, feeling your cheeks burn and you were thankful she couldn’t see the effect she still had on you. As you reached the end of the cadenza, you slowly lowered your instrument, trying your best not to fall over from the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “So, what did you think?”

Using the hand situated on your hip, Agatha swiftly twisted you around to face her, moving the hand she had on your shoulder down to help secure your violin. You stumbled just ever so slightly, but she steadied you, her grip tightening on your waist.

“Easy there,” Agatha lightly teased, and you thought you saw her eyes hungrily rake up and down your body. “Have you always been this jumpy, or are you just excited to see me?”

There was so much you wanted to say, but there was a lump in your throat that grew bigger with every tug on your waist, drawing you impossibly closer to the woman your brain refused to let go of. She was infuriatingly high-handed, extremely egotistical, and was single-handedly the most stubborn individual you had ever encountered. She was obsessive, and aggressive, and had her eyes always been so blue?

“Agatha…” you managed to breathe out, desperately trying to clear your head and regain some sense of self control, but your brain felt slippery.

The combination of the heat from the bright stage lights and the intensely burning gaze from the conductor had you feeling more unsteady on your feet as the seconds slowly ticked by. You’d spent the past year performing in sold out concert halls, yet you were never more nervous than you currently felt being face to face with Agatha Harkness.

It was unclear how long you stood there, staring at each other. You knew Agatha well enough to know she had something to say, it was written all over her face. But she remained silent, one hand situated on your waist and the other gently holding your violin in place. There was something about the way she was looking at you, as if she thought she’d never see you again.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, a loud buzzing noise began to ring through the hall. The moment was broken as she released you, sighing as she reached to her back pocket, revealing her cell phone.

Squinting at the screen, and you suddenly remembered the difficulty she had of reading off her phone without her glasses, she frowned. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s my assistant.”

You took a step backwards, feeling burned. “Right. Your assistant. Best not keep them waiting.”

Agatha gave you a brief, perplexed glance before answering her phone. “What do you want now?” Loudly sighing, you watched as she closed her eyes, clearly vexed. “I already told you, for the millionth time, it’s the box in my study.” Pausing, as she listened to her assistant reply, she held up a finger to you, signaling for you to wait for her. “For the last time, no, nothing else. Just the box in my study, the singular box. Make sure Scratchy is ready to go as well.”

It appeared the assistant had more questions, as you watched Agatha pinch the bridge of her nose in agitation. “No, no, no, stop,” she then paused, and looked at you again. “I have to deal with this, I’ll see you at rehearsal.”

She stormed away without another word, squawking orders over the phone, and you were left in the aftershock of the earthquake that was Agatha Harkness.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #wandavision au #marvel au #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha all along

[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙈𝙚—ex bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

Back with one of my favorite tropes! I high key feel bad for being away for so long and for being too shy to actually interact with anyone so I'll try to make up for it as much as I can.

Will you be the bad guy in this one? Not sure, that's for you to decide. I hope all of you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa ;*

warning/s: not proofread, angst, cursing, violence (mdni!), toxic, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

note: I tried fixing some parts because I wrote this while I was drunk and I realized that some parts sucked. I'm sorry, dears!

The sound of cars whizzing past, horns beeping, and the endless conversations of people chatting on the street filled the night. The wind blew harshly, the cold biting at your flushed cheeks. Stars glimmering as bright as your narrowed eyes as you ran, footsteps heavy on the concrete.

Bright lights lit up the city, commercials everywhere of something stupid. Probably the next new hyped up skincare product that was overpriced and didn't work or the next new corny romance film they're trying to sell out. Celebrities' faces plastered on every building, some pretty, some borderline lewd, some dramatic.

God, you hated these fucking displays, always so obnoxious and overly marketed...

Especially her fucking face.

Mizu's stupid fucking face plastered all around the buildings, informing you of her concert in your home city as a way of ending her first oh-so-grand world tour. The new hit guitarist made by Abijah Fowler, the manager of the biggest fucking band in the world. A legend. Anyone he handled turns into a star by the first debut.

Oh, fuck you.

These displays were truly obnoxious, even more so with her stupid fucking face, her stupid hands holding her same old guitar, and her gorgeously blue eyes on display for every passerby to see. For you to see every time you went to work, went to get the groceries, went to...whatever.

Blue eyes reminding you of the times when you were her manager. Of when both of you were young and stupid, when playing in a band was just something you did to unwind and have something to do aside from rot. Reminding you of your promise to make her a star, that talent recognizes talent.

And indeed, she was talent.

She was the greatest fucking talent the world ever saw. Her hands played the guitar as if it was natural to her. As if whatever deity that created her wanted mankind to know what music actually sounded like. Like her hands were made for this. Like she was made for this.

Every time she went on stage, countless would scream for her, cheer for her, throw what ever expensive lingerie they had for her. It took months, maybe even a year, to be able to schedule an interview with her. Her fans would sell their soul for a chance to breathe the same air as her, yet alone be in the same room with her.

Which ever city she went, concert or no concert, paparazzi was waiting for her. Each stage she rocked, she made the floors shake with how hyped her audience got. Everyone who attended had post-concert syndrome. They were star struck. She exuded confidence. She was an icon. Not even the lead singer but she was the front man.

An eye catcher.

Talent personified.

A star.

Your fucking star.

And you hated this bitch with every fiber of your body, with every cell that passed and will pass through your veins, with every nerve, with everything you had. You made her a star, gave her to the best fucking manager known to man. For fuck's sake she even finished a world tour. And this is how she repays you?

Your hands pushed the crowds of people away, legs burning as you tried to run into the backstage. The sounds of people yelling at you, glaring at your figure as you cut through lines echoing across the waiting area.

Was this illegal? Probably.

Who cares?

You were getting this bitch even if you had to be dragged out by every armed force known to man.

Just as you were about to reach the doors, security immediately held you back. Bodyguards grabbing you as you thrashed around, trying to kick them off while pulling your arms away from them. "Let me go! Let me fucking see this bitch!" you screamed at them, nails digging into their skin as they held you back.

"Mizu you fucking bitch! I know you're there! Explain yourself!" you yelled, hissing in pain as security tried to drag you out, yelling at you to leave. Your hair out of the bun you put it in, seams at the corners of your shirt ripping slightly, legs scratched. Their hands leaving red marks on your skin, and yet you continued to try and fight them off, yelling obscenities as they held you down. "Fuck! Get off of me! You motherfucker! You ungrateful bitch!"

With a twist of your arm and an unexpected bite at their hands, you finally broke free from their grasps, only to be tackled to the ground as soon as you tried to sprint towards the door. The impact of your head on the ground making you extremely light-headed. Your vision growing blurry as the warm red liquid started dripping from your nose onto the concrete. You could feel them lifting your body; but just as you were about to drag your body out, you heard a voice. The same fucking voice you were searching for.

"Unhand her. Don't worry she's with me."

Upon her words, the guards looked at each other and security hesitantly let go of you, going back to their stations. With a groan, you sat up straight, blowing the blood out of your nostril before wiping the leftover crimson with the back of your hand as she approached you with an unreadable expression.

Just as you looked up, your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes met. Blue orbs meeting with yours. Those gorgeous blue eyes. Drowning you.

Slowly, you stood up, trying your best to balance yourself. Her eyebrows knitting at how beaten up you looked. But just as she was about to open her mouth...

SLAP

...her cheek was met with a harsh stinging pain, knocking her back slightly. Her chest rose up and down as she panted, trying to register what had just happened, hand slowly clutching her cheek.

Sharp blue eyes glared at you as soon as she composed herself. She watched as you shook the pain from your hand, glaring at her with such loathing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she growled, grabbing you by the collar.

I asked you a question, I wanna know why Why'd you have to make a record 'bout me?

"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" you yelled at her, eyes narrowing further as you continued to glare at her, no longer caring if her hold on your collar was choking you. "Answer me, Mizu. Why'd you have to make a fucking song about me, you stupid jackass?"

Her eyes scanned your face, looking over every detail as her grip on your collar tightened. Even with a scratched up face and a bloody nose, you were still so beautiful to her. The most beautiful woman she has ever met.

"That's what you're here for? Hah..fuck...I'm with my own band. Stay out of my business," she said in low voice, pulling you closer, jaw clenching as if holding back some sort of unexplainable anger towards you as well. An exasperated yet angered expression washed over your face at her words.

"Stay out of your business?" you repeated before letting out an angry sarcastic laugh. "How can I when you fucking used my picture? Our picture? On a fucking diss album, for fuck's sake! Are you stupid?!" you yelled, hand gripping her hand around your collar tightly until your knuckles turned white, until your nails were digging into her skin.

That's right.

A whole fucking record about you. A whole motherfucking album dedicated to you. This is how this jackass repays you.

The track list started with innocent cute little love songs about how much she admired you, how much she fucking tried for you, how she constantly played her heart out just for you to realize how in love she was with you.

Then, it went on to heavier songs, talking about how you sold her. How you were a fucking traitor who threw her into the pit, making her feel as if you would be there for her no matter where the band's musical journey took off to only to leave her.

And you wouldn't have minded if it was just some kind of corny ass typical romance album with cheesy lyrics a little angst. Every band had that at some point. Maybe it wasn't even dedicated for you. You hoped it wasn't dedicated to you. However, the moment you saw the album cover, you could physically feel the color draining out of your face.

But it's alright 'Cause it was all in my mind To begin with (And you don't know why)

It was a picture of you and Mizu in the old studio. Your body turned to the side as you wrote something on your clipboard. Mizu was at the background tuning her guitar. Of course they had the decency to blur out your face, but you knew.

You fucking knew.

God, you loved this picture so much.

"Mizu...do you think we should add crushcrushcrush to our song list for the next gig," you asked, eyes trained on your clipboard. Your eyebrows furrowed in thought. Damn, this client was stingy. Only 3 songs? How were you going to fit a whole ass gig into three songs?

She looked up from her guitar before her eyes glanced at Akemi who was just beside you, giggling as she looked at her digital camera then back at her with a sly smile, showing the camera to her mischievously. Mizu immediately turned around in fear of her face being captured in the photo, fiddling with her guitar while she thought of an answer. "...Well if you want a Paramore song, I think Ignorance would be better," she said quietly but loud enough for you to hear.

"Although...I still think One Weak is better. Make Taigen sing or something," she suggested, plucking the strings of her guitar as she tuned it. A small 'I second that' could be heard from Akemi as she pointed the camera towards you. Your eyes widened in delight at the suggestion, immediately writing it down on your clipboard. "That's not a bad idea! Not bad at a—"

You were cut off by the loud click sound of a camera, followed by the bright lights of the camera flash. "Oops.." Akemi mumbled sheepishly as she watched you rub your eyes. Just as she was going to hide the camera in her bag, you waved your hand around before gesturing her to give it to you.

Mizu couldn't help but be curious, setting her guitar down to take a peek. "Woah..." you mumbled, grinning at the picture.

It was perfect.

The slight tint from how old the camera was gave it a vintage look. The way your skirt rode up slightly from how you crossed your legs gave it a slightly lewd feel. And along with your combat boots? It definitely had that edge. Y'know? Like that little irresistible charm that made you stare at album covers like Around the Fur.

Mhmm.. don't even deny it. We've all stared at that album cover before.

Even the way Mizu was standing at the background looked so badass. Her back turned from the camera, so sturdy and strong. She definitely had that natural mysterious vibe that drew everyone in.

Everything about this picture...made your heart race.

"Looks like an album cover," Mizu commented, sitting down next to you. A small blush appearing on her cheeks as her eyes traced your legs. The three of you nodded in agreement, each with your own smiles. "Hmm.. maybe if we make it big somehow. We could use this," Akemi suggested.

You nodded, smiling at the photo fondly. "Yeah, let's make it big together," you mumbled, eyes still staring at the picture. God, you loved this picture so much.

God, you hated this picture so much.

Keep the chaos 'cause you don't know why

"Oh don't be such a fucking narcissist. Just because we used a picture you loved so damn much, doesn't mean its for you," she growled, hairs on the back of her neck standing up from anger.

Slowly, her hands gripped your collar tighter, ignoring the pain your nails were inflicting on her, shoving you until your back collided with the cool metal of the trailer. Your body trapped between the vehicle and her body. The tension was so thick it was suffocating you.

You could feel the air being squeezed out from your throat as you continued to glare at her, not letting this go. "Then tell me, Mizu." A small cough escaping your throat as your breathing turned into wheezing. "Who...who is this stupid fucking album for?"

Her eyes narrowed at your question, continuing to stare at you intensely but gave no answer. Although the slight tremble and weakening of her grip told you that you definitely struck a nerve. The silence was unnerving and even with the lack of oxygen, it was pissing you off.

"Answer me, you bitch!" With the remaining energy you had, you lifted your leg before stomping it towards her, digging your foot onto her stomach.

Immediately, her hands let go of your collar as she reeled back, coughing and wheezing. Your hands rubbed at the area where the friction from your collar burned your skin, trying to soothe it as you tried your best to regain your breath.

It was a good try, but Mizu was strong. So strong and well-built. The body that used to keep you close, holding the umbrella for you, trying to hide the shiver in the cold so she could lend you her jacket, was now pinning you to the ground. Knees weighing down on your hands and her weight pushed on to you. You loved her. You hated her. You love her so much.

I heard your song but I wasn't impressed So, you got your feels hurt and now you're feeling depressed Just because we had sex and it didn't last? Now you want revenge, you wanna put me on blast?

"Give me one good reason to not kill you right now," she said in a low voice. Her long, rough, slender fingers wrapping around your neck, squeezing it lightly. You could feel the hesitance in her hold, the slight tremble of her hands and the almost invisible quivering of her lips, contrasting the harshness of her expression.

"You're such a fucking bitch," you coughed out, eyes narrowing as you tried to lift her weight off your body. "Tell me who that motherfucking album is for! Spit it the fuck out!"

Eyes narrowed further as she gritted her teeth, jaw clenching. Her hands squeezing against your throat further, other hand balling into a fist as she lifted it out. Anger emanated from her gaze, burning deeply as she looked at you. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then her soul must be either dead or burning with rage more than ever. And yours? Yours filled with a type of hatred that seemed to deep to be quenched.

No, don't look at her like that.

Fists raised and clenched tightly, mind violent and filled with rage. And yet, she could see no fear in you. Even with the threat of pain, you looked at her with no fear, as if you thought she could never hurt you. Even with the threat of pain, you felt no fear, as if you knew she could never hurt you. Mizu could never do that to you.

So please, don't look at her like that

Her breathing became heavier as she continued to glare at you, fist shaking until eventually letting go. She let out an exhale, eyes glossing over ever-so-slightly. 'What the hell am I doing?', she thought, throat tightening as a lump formed, making it hard for her to breathe. Your form under her, too beautiful, too lovely.

She couldn't do it. Not to you.

Slowly, she got off of your body, sitting on the spot next to you as the two of you looked up at the sky, except her eyes were on your figure. You took a deep breath before eventually looking at her, admiring her features. "You changed so much.." you mumbled, glare softening but still there. "Tell me. That album...was for me, wasn't it?"

A sigh escaped her lips before she gave a slow, hesitant nod. "Why?" you asked, sitting up slowly.

"Why'd you have to.."

"Because you're a fucking liar."

Your eyes widened before narrowing into the harsh glare it was before. "Liar? How am I a liar?" you almost yelled, voice a bit raspy.

Her eyes glared back at you, nails digging into her own skin of her palms. "You fucking sold my contract. To Fowler of all people!" she exclaimed. "Have you ever considered how I felt? Did you even think of me?"

"Of course I thought of you! If I didn't hand over your contract to Fowler, you wouldn't be where you fucking are!" you yelled back, turning to face her. "Look at you now! The biggest and fastest rising star! People are praising you like you're some sort of modern Kurt Cobain, Mizu! Can't you be fucking grateful?!"

Grateful?

Don't make me laugh

She stood up and grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you up harshly, your sides almost colliding with the trailer yet again. Rage enveloping her being, radiating from her as she approached you, fingers digging into your shoulders. "You didn't think about me! Fuck, you didn't think about any of us at all!"

"How about Ringo? Taigen? Akemi? Where the fuck are they now after you disbanded us, left us all rotting, for Abijah's stupid fuckin' agenda?!" she almost croaked out, face getting closer to yours. Her jaw clenching as her hands trembled in both anger and the desire to be soft with you.

You couldn't believe what she was saying right now. You didn't even think of her? How could she say that after you gave her to the best, to make her dreams come true? Harshly, you pushed her off of you. Now it was your turn to grab her by the collar, pulling her to your height. "Abijah's 'stupid fucking agenda' is what got you where you are, Mizu,'' you growled. "Talent recognizes talent and Abijah is the most talented manager in the industry and he wanted you. The kingmaker wanted you."

A strange sense of disappointment towards you swirled into her eyes. It was stupid of her to think that if she met you again, things would go back to the way they were. An unexplainable retching in her gut welling up as she listened to you speak. Was this it? Was this why you sold her fucking contract?

"You wanted to be a star, he made you a star. I made you a—"

"I never fucking wanted to be a star!" she yelled, glare hardening. Confusion painted over your face, making the anger in your eyes falter. Her disappointment and dismay in full view as opposed to the anger she held earlier. "I don't understand, Mizu. Isn't this why you joined—"

"I fucking joined your stupid band to be with you, dumbass," she sighed, pulling your hands off of her collar. "It was never about making it big. I just...wanted to play and be with you."

Her hands held yours softly as she looked away. "You told me we'd stay together as a band. That we'd be together no matter if we made it big or not." The grip she had on your hands trembling slightly as it tightened. She took a deep breath to calm herself down before looking at you straight in the eyes. "But you're a fucking liar, aren't you?"

For the first time since you've heard of Mizu's concert in your home city, you were speechless. Thoughts empty as you tried to process her words. Hatred quelled deep in your heart. "Mizu.. I really don't understand," you replied, hands desperately trying to hold hers as she tried to pull away.

She looked down at you with a sigh. The heavy feeling weighing down both your chests. With one look at your eyes, she knew this was too difficult for both of you. And maybe, this was just how the world worked.

She loved you. She loves you. But she can't help but hate you too.

"Go. Get the fuck out of here," she said coldly, turning to head back, making you even more confused and even a bit more pissed off. An unexplainable anger gnawing at her insides, making her throat tighten. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Her feet made its way towards the backstage. Ringing echoing in her ears as you plead her to come back, to explain, to talk to you. She heard nothing because she knew nothing would get her feelings into your dense little brain. This was pointless.

Before opening the door to head into the backstage, she took one last look at you. Her eyes tracing your figure, admiring your features that she had grown to love so much. Even with your bruises, anger, and hatred, you really were the most beautiful woman she has ever seen.

Just as she was about to turn away, your hands traveled to the hem of your skirt, pulling it up to your waist, sticking your tongue out as if to mock her cowardice. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she caught a glimpse of your underwear.

'It's pink', she thought with a groan, glaring at you before storming inside and slamming the door behind her. Once she was inside, she hid her face behind her hands, breathing heavily. How fucked up did you have to be to tug at her heart at a time like this?

She really did hate you. You really did hate her.

The feeling was mutual.

#bes mizu x reader #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #mizu x reader #bes mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu imagine #mizu x you #bes #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x fem!reader #Spotify

[crkstuffidk]

time for some beasts headcanons, share your own thoughts if you want! Also I said corrupted/corruption a lot in this post. And a lot of them are about shadowmilk, bet you can guess who my favorite it.

Shadowmilk was the last one to become corrupted in my opinion, cause you know he was the virtue of Knowledge, and with that well knowledge surely he'd be able to fight off the corruption for at least a bit longer than the others. Also I can see there being more about their corruption then we've been told/shown, I mean lies almost always contain a bit of truth so maybe there's something more in the beasts pasts that caused them to become well beasts

I like to imagine that while they were still sane or not corrupted, or whatever you wanna call it, I like to believe they might've felt the opposite of their Virtues at times, so there may have been times that Eternal Sugar felt angry and maybe got mean, and times when Shadowmilk felt like maybe he wasn't as smart, these essential self doubts for them may also have been a reason of their corruption.

I also like to imagine they had meetings or whatever similar to how the ancients have meetings, I think this is pretty self explanatory, I mean they atleast were friends.

Eternal Sugars devil wings, were originally a smaller set of angel wings, and she didn't have a devil tail either, although I like the idea that maybe she just looked like that originally too.

Burning Spices kingdom/domain is extremely hot, It just makes sense, Shadowmilk, and silent salts I see being cold, and Mystic Flours, and Eternal Sugars are a Inbetween, the silver kingdom probably was also Inbetween maybe a bit colder though.

Eternal Sugar and Shadowmilk are the closest of the beasts before and after corruption.

The beasts before corruption were called 'The divine Saviors' or just 'the saviors' which were titles given by cookies.

Shadowmilk is far sighted, which means if your far away he can't see you all that well, he wore glasses cause of this but kinda just stopped wearing them after corruption because they didn't fit the whole jester vibe, he suffers in silence for an act he's that devoted.

Burning Spice and Shadowmilk got into banters about how hot/cold the others kingdom/domain was it occasionally would end with someone throwing something at them mostly Mystic Flour and a plate would be thrown.

Eternal Sugar used to sing lullabies for orphan cookies to help them sleep, she surprisingly still did in her corruption

Even when they were corrupted they never intentionally hurt young cookies.

There were much more prowlers back in the beasts time, and not just Snowy Peak prowlers but many other kinds, Shadowmilk is/was the only cookie in history that's been able to 'tame' one.

Mystic Flour was always more aloof then the others, but constantly got hugged, mostly by Shadowmilk or Eternal Sugar.

Shadowmilk didn't create Blueberry Yogurt Academy, but he did know Blueberry Yoghurt cookie and he actually wrote some of the very old history books that can be found in the schools library he also helped build it, this was before corruption, but that's a bit obvious I'd assume.

Silent Salt if he ever speaks would have a very rough voice from not speaking in centuries. Shadowmilk would tease him for it probably

The beasts are either the first 'gods' that the Witches made but when they were sealed the Witches created the elementals, or the elementals potentially helped the Witches create the beasts with some of their essences.

Silent Salt would've probably had a similar reaction to Dark Cacao if they were accused of something like what the ancients were, this is also before corruption.

Shadowmilk if he got upset at one of the other would take off his glasses so he didn't have to see them clearly, he'd also just act like a disappointed parent in general.

And that's all for now.

#cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #crk #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #eternal sugar cookie #eternal sugar crk #mystic flour cookie #mystic flour crk #burning spice crk #burning spice cookie #silent salt crk #silent salt cookie #crk headcanons

[starfxkr]

circling back to that one post where you invite tp!jj to the (titty) restaurant you work at for a fathers day special! (bc its my favorite scenario as of late) youre so giddy nd excited bc this’ll sorta be one of the first times you guys are in a stereotypical “date” setting bc you both are only ever alone together in his trailer or on a boat out fishing :( you reserve him a booth in the back nd sit with him during your break :3 he ends up feeding you some of his food off his plate nd gives you secret sips of his beer after making sure none of your coworkers or managers are around!!!!!! unfortunately everyone in the restaurant is sus of you both nd a bit disturbed bc they ended up seeing your legs draped across his lap nd sneaking in quick kisses when you thought no one was looking… but its not your fault you got all pouty seeing so many daughters bring their dads here you just had to start lovin on your man :(

— 🦢

literally waited til i was home so i could type this out but ukw we should expand on this specific scenario more because like you're just so excited. growing up you neverrrr got to do father/daughter stuff because your dad wasn't around AND you and jj never go out, like you said it's either the two of you alone in his trailer or fishing and it feels isolating like he's ashamed of you (which isn't true, he's just always tired from working) and yeah you're still on the clock for most of it but you reserved him a table specifically during your lunch so you could eat together.

and jj would be lying if he said he doesn't feel special, he's become a sap in his later years and you look so happy everytime you come to check on him and when you can finally eat together he spends the whole time feeding you his fries and cutting his burger in half so you can have some <3 between the sips of his beer and the constant kisses in between you're so dizzy that after you have to do jumping jacks in the bathroom to get the blood pumping again.

your coworkers of course are whispering the whole time you're there with him and its even worse when you sneak out to walk him to his truck and he gives a nasty, sloppy kiss right against the car door, like literally kissed your lip gloss off. and the whispering is even worse when you get back in the kitchen, your manager keeps looking at you funny, it becomes a whole scandal that they aren't quite sure...what your relationship with him is. especially because they heard you call him "papa."

#✨.txt #jj maybank prompt #trailer park!jj #🦢 anon

[rivkae-winters]

This isn’t going to be a grand essay as I’m still feeling fairly low energy but I didn’t want to leave my two cents unsaid on this as it’s somewhat personal.

One thing I’ve noticed from all of the recent lore.fm events is the awareness of podficcing is much lower than I’d previously considered.

This is an absolute shame: podfics are great and there are many amazing narrators in fandom. One of the generalizations I saw made in the (regretably unarchived- lack of foresight on my part after I saved their videos) lore.fm comment section was how there was no natural sounding voice to read fan fiction at all ever and that’s why this proposed product was exciting for many of the people in those comment sections. Which is blatantly untrue as we have had natural voices even reading porn at times for years coming from the lips of actual people.

Obviously it’s not the same since not everything is a podfic all the time so check here for the fairly comprehensive guide @chaosisbeauty23 released recently covering native features of both iOS and Android devices and more.

Other than that though if there is a podfic scene in the space you find yourself in within fandom it’s well worth supporting. Narration is a skill and there is dynamism to the ebb and flow of a storyteller walking you down an author’s lovingly crafted web that is delightful. If you couldn’t tell I really do adore the podfic scene and certain podfic narrators have literally led me to new fandoms I wouldn’t have considered before with their voice and skill. It’s actually the reason why I still have blanket permissions attached to my work for recordings made by a living person reciting any of my works.

In that spirit: if you feel like checking just look up the tag ‘podfic’ on Ao3 next time you’re in your favorite tag! Or if you’re feeling adventurous just search through the podfic tag itself and find yourself somewhere new.

Typically you can filter by length as well and all the tags attached to the initial fic are typically on the podfic’d one. The podfic post is connected to the authors post as well via the ‘inspired by’ feature 99% of the time as well!

Fandom is an ecosystem of sorts and podfic readers are a native species here: they deserve more love 💜

#lore.fm #podficcing #accessibility #fandom culture

[a-a-a-anon]

appreciation post for Lise Mayer!! she co-wrote The Young Ones (and The Bachelor Boys book, additional material like when they did Comic Relief, etc), which is well known. but she also wrote for other things in the alternative comedy scene like Rik Mayall and Ben Elton's comedy tour (source: BBC Breakfast Time interview)! and, something I didn't know until recently: she co-wrote/wrote for Kevin Turvey! she's not credited in his television appearances, but see below for sources.

i really loved the podcast episode she did with Alexei Sayle about TYO, you gain a lot of insight into her perspective! she also mentions misogynistic treatment like being asked to go make tea when they were doing script readings, not getting invited to a big BBC party because it was presumed she'd be Rik's plus-one, and getting groped at the BBC bar. it pissed me off on her behalf and partly prompted this post.

some specific accolades/accreditation/fun facts:

Rik crediting her with writing/conceiving the Kevin Turvey non-joke "All right, biting political satire: What do Lech Walesea and Menachem Begin have in common? They’ve both got foreign names! What do you mean it’s not funny?" (x)

Alexei Sayle in Thatcher Stole My Trousers crediting Lise with co-writing Turvey: "Lise was, like Linda for mine, a vital part of Rik’s career, co-writing both The Young Ones and Rik’s character Kevin Turvey..."

a 1987 source for Lise co-writing Turvey: "The assumption that women do not write comedy scripts was one with which Lise Mayer, co-writer of The Young Ones television series, has also had to contend. She started writing for Rik Mayall’s Kevin Turvey in the television series A Kick Up the Eighties..." (x)

Rowland Rivron (comedian who toured with The Comic Strip gang and lived with Rik and Lise) in What the f*** did I do last night?: "[Lise] also had the unenviable job of standing at the side of the stage when Rik was performing, and jotting down anything he said that was unscripted. If it got a laugh, it would be woven into the next night’s routine."

the only time i've ever seen a Rik Mayall/Ade Edmondson/Lise Mayer writing credit: for a poem called Distance which was collected in this anthology! Rik and Ade seem to have acted it out (or at least a version of it) in this 20th Century Coyote performance

Rik on Lise writing TYO: "‘She discovers different things: the comedy of embarrassment and awkwardness – she draws out the cheating and stealing that goes on in the house.’" (x) (Lise also says her "favorite comedy was always the comedy of embarrassment" in the Alexei Sayle podcast)

Rik: "... Lise Mayer wrote this great scene where I find a tampon in a handbag and it's my birthday party and I think it's a present because my character is Rick, who is such a git, he didn't know." (x)

Helen Lederer in Not That I'm Bitter, writing about being on The Young Ones: "[Lise] was known to be the brains behind it all, particularly the more surreal elements…"

she and Rik chose the bands (x)

Lise: “We’d have a table read at which point we’d discover that the script ran over an hour long, and then I’d have a sleepless night editing it.” Alexei: “You did that?” Lise: “Usually me, yeah…” (she later explains they'd present the script Monday and rehearsals were Tuesday, Wednesday-so she literally had one night to edit!) (x)

facts from the blu-ray commentary tracks:

Rick's yellow dungarees in Interesting were based off a picture of Lise in a similar pair

Lise wrote an essay about the tampon joke in Interesting so that the BBC didn't cut the scene (though they still edited it)

Paul Jackson (producer) credits Lise with arguing "you are seriously telling me that we cannot refer on television to something that happens to 50% of the population for about 30 years of their life? and we're not allowed to even refer to it" to make an executive back off about the tampon joke in a meeting

Lise came up with Neil's flowerpot covering in Nasty

Vyvyan/Vivian's name comes from Lise having lived in Vyvyan Terrace, Bristol

Lise thought of the cast switching costumes in Bambi (one of my favorite moments!!) (/end of commentary track facts)

this is guesswork, but i've seen Ben Elton and Rik Mayall's handwriting and i'm pretty sure the editing/handwriting on the bottom left on this script must be Lise's, which gives insight into what/how she wrote: (x)

i feel like it's easy for people to overlook or minimize Lise's impact, something that happens to female creators far too often. i hate when women's identities are framed around their association to a man-girlfriend to Rik in this case-which was the norm whenever i saw Lise discussed in articles/books/online discussions about TYO. it's important to know she was a writer and co-creator with her own identity and (underappreciated) contributions. The Young Ones (and Kevin Turvey, and things we don't even know she goes uncredited for) would not have been the same—or wouldn't have even existed—without her!

#women in comedy are everything to me. lise was the one who did the typing to amalgamate the TYO scripts AND edited them down in 1 night... #women have to work so hard to prove their place in male dominated fields. she deserves her flowers!! #lise mayer #rik mayall #the young ones #kevin turvey #ben elton #britcom #in berserker! ade says vyvyan is named that because he and rik loved Vivian Stanshall #so i imagine lise gave the spelling? which is quite important i would say! just interesting to know the Full picture #also i reallyyy wanna know when Distance was actually written. it was collected in an anthology pubished in '84 #but it very well couldve been written before (as other works in that book were written before 1984 as well) #basically im wondering if Lise contributed to 20th century coyote sketches?? i wouldnt be surprised bc she wrote a lot for rik

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Felt inspired by the last post so here’s a comfort fluff short fic for you <333

I stumbled through the front door of the penthouse, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. It had been one of those days—endless meetings, impossible deadlines, and an ever-growing to-do list. All I wanted was to collapse into bed and forget the day ever happened.

As I trudged into the living area, I was greeted by the soft glow of the ambient lights. The room was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the harsh, fluorescent-lit office I’d left behind. Vox was sitting on the couch, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw me.

“You look like you’ve been through hell,” he said, getting up and walking over to me.

“Yeah. We kinda go though that everyday,” I muttered, my legs feeling like they might give out any second.

“You know what I meant. Tough day?”

“Yeah.” I tried to muster a smile, but it came out more as a grimace.

“Come here,” he said gently, wrapping an arm around my waist to support me. “Let’s get you out of those work clothes.”

I nodded weakly, letting him guide me to the bedroom. Every step felt like torture, but his presence was soothing. In the bedroom, he carefully helped me out of my jacket, his fingering undoing the buttons of my shirt.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he chided softly, though there was no real anger in his voice—just concern.

“I know,” I sighed, too tired to argue. “Today was just… a lot.”

Once I was in my comfortable lounge clothes, Vox led me back to the living area and gently pushed me down onto the couch. “Stay here, darling. I’ll get you something to eat.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and leaning back against the cushions. The next thing I knew, I was being woken by the smell of something delicious. I opened my eyes to find Vox standing in front of me with a tray. He had made my favorite comfort food. My stomach growled in response.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said, managing a tired smile.

He set the tray down on the coffee table and helped me sit up, then handed me a fork. “Eat up. You need your strength.”

As I took the first bite, I felt a wave of warmth and comfort wash over me. The food was perfect, just the way I liked it. Vox sat beside me, watching me eat with a satisfied look on his face.

“Thank you,” I said between bites. “This is exactly what I needed.”

He smiled and reached over to brush a strand of hair out of my face. “Anything for you.”

After I finished eating, Vox took the tray away and came back with a fluffy blanket. He draped it over me and then sat down, pulling me into his arms. I nestled into his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand stroked my hair gently, lulling me into a state of relaxation I hadn’t felt all day.

“You work too hard,” he murmured. “You need to take more breaks.”

“I know,” I said, my voice muffled against his shirt. “But it’s hard when there’s so much to do.”

He sighed, his breath warm against my forehead. “I get that. But you’re no good to anyone if you’re burnt out. Promise me you’ll take it easier from now on?”

I nodded, feeling the exhaustion pulling me towards sleep. “I promise.”

“Good,” he said softly. “Now close your eyes and rest. I’ve got you.”

With that, I let my eyes drift shut, the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace lulling me into a deep, restful sleep.

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