#this isn't me fishing for people to go no your early chapters are really good

[lunammoon]

Honestly sometimes I consider rewriting the second half of chapter one. It's not like BAD, but i don't feel like it's AS good, especially knowing what I know now about writing and how I've improved in the past nearly four years. And also little crumbs of foreshadowing. And I feel like Ten's reaction to Marion being frightened of him at first should've been different from what he was.

Also want I want to lowkey retcon the "Sky" remark

#tbh I'm not SUPER happy with the first 14 or so chapters #i always worry that someone won't make it past those and then drop the story #and im pleasantly suprised when i see that people do #this isn't me fishing for people to go no your early chapters are really good #bc it's not that the chapters are bad and i was proud of most of them when i posted them. #me not liking them as much is just a side effect me having written a couple hundred words every day for nearly four years #you write a little everyday and you're going to see improvement. and then when you look back at your older work #all u can think about is what you would've done differently which makes the chapters seem less good #such is the price of improvement #clsfaoqfc #the moon writes

[corrodedcoughin]

Hello!!! How're you?? Hope you're well!! I'm currently having Munson family feelings lmao

Please imagine lil pre teen Eddie settling in with Wayne, finding his footing, becoming more open in a way that he wasn't with his father. And he's really getting into his dnd. Has the manuals Wayne got him for his birthday one year. A mini or two. And he wants to get better at DMing, but he can't practice with his group because that would ruin the surprise of it all. So one day, he shyly asks Wayne if he'll practice with him. Fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and shuffling his feet. Isn't 100% sure what Wayne will think just yet

And to his surprise, Wayne says yes. And Eddie just... lights up. Smiles a big megawatt grin and starts talking about how it'll be super fun uncle Wayne you won't regret it!!!

They spend an evening making Wayne a character - a human called Wayne, they're keeping it simple - while they eat Mac n cheese for dinner. Wayne loves how happy it makes Eddie. How carefree.

And on Wayne's next day off, when Eddie doesn't have school, they play together. A mini campaign, just for the two of them. Eddie practices his skills, gets to play dnd, and hang out with his uncle all in one go. It's kind of everything to them. It's a lighthearted adventure where Wayne goes on a quest to get the perfect bait so he can go fishing and catch his dream fish. Eddie tells him what dice to roll, helps him fight a goblin and a bear, and puts on all sorts of voices for the characters Wayne meets. Eddie gets so wrapped up in it all, so excited. But when it ends he's all nerves - bitten lips and wringing his hands.

Did Wayne like it?? Did he have fun?? Was Eddie good??

And Wayne honestly says it wasn't quite his thing but he had a lot of fun. Eddie is a damn fine storyteller, has a real knack for the dramatics. He'll impress his friends, for sure.

And idk!!! I love Eddie and Wayne exploring their dynamic and figuring out where they stand with each other those first few years. It would have been a bumpy ride but they love each other!!!

Wayne getting in from grocery shopping on a Saturday, he likes to go really early so he can avoid Sally Knowles town gossip extraordinaire who Kees letting Wayne know ‘people are gonna talk if you don’t give that nephew of yours a Mothering presence in his life’ Wayne’s heard enough of it. So while it means he has to get up early, he’ll do it to escape the song and dance of busy bodies.

He’s making his way up the trailer steps, bags of groceries in hand (he’s a one trip kind of man and won’t be changed) when he hears a voice behind the door. The muffled and rushed but excited voice of his nephew barely audible through the rustling of groceries and the clattering of god knows what in the trailer - ‘okay. Okay he’s here. Go time. Show time. Time to shine. Story telling powers on.’

Wayne can see Eddie in his minds eye, turning an invisible switch at his temple. A ritual he started for their very first session. The boy had been nervous then and now, four - games? Chapters? Wayne wasn’t sure - in the nerves were still there but the excitement far outweighed them.

Opening the door, Wayne flicked his eyes over to the couch were Eddie was propped up, books spread out on the coffee table and rudimentary map laid across the table top.

Eddie’s head shot up, ‘I’ll help!’, scrambling to his feet to take some of Wayne’s provisions off of him.

‘You in a rush, son? Normally I’m shouting you through to give me a hand with these?’ Wayne was teasing. Could see that Eddie was conflicted, had Wayne forgotten that he promised to finish the story today? That it was going to find the Pond Of Dreams? Wayne loved the kid but he wanted to have a little fun too.

Setting the bags down and putting the freezer items away, everything else could wait. Not even glancing down at Eddie, Wayne stretched tall and exaggerated ‘think I need a nap after that. Don’t mind me Ed, gonna get some shut eye.’ And the thing is he couldn’t look at Eddie, if he did he’d crumble and it would all be for naught. One glance of Eddie in his home sewn cape and it’s be over.

So he hot footed it to the bathroom, hoping Eddie wouldn’t question the pre-nap detour or the backpack he was taking with him.

He could hear Eddie mumbling, frustration and disappointment evident in his tone. Then the tv going on, cartoons on high volume as he tried to distract himself. Which is when Wayne decided to re-appear, clad in his full fishing gear and rod. Along side a toy lizard he velcroed to his shoulder.

‘Well boy, you ready to go fantasy fishing? Heard there’s a dream pond waiting to be found’ Wayne tipped his fishing hat like a cowboy as Eddie’s eyes grew wide, scanning the outfit. It wasn’t much but Wayne tried to add the little details as he could; the potion belt of healing (an ammo belt he borrowed from somebody at work), the spear character wayne earned in his first battle (a pvc tube Scott Clarke was happy to provide after their last dinner where Wayne recounted Eddie’s tales) and of course -

‘Is that Creedence?!’ Eddie finally speaking up and pointing at the lizard, the decided companion and helper to Wayne in his journey.

‘Sure is kid, think he’s ready to roll. The question is, are you?’ It’s not the easiest thing for Wayne to do, sometimes he feels silly with all the fantasy and character voices that Eddie insists upon but when it makes the boy this happy? This unguarded and free? Who is Wayne to say no? Maybe the sillyness is good for him, good for both of them.

#MOMO WHEN I SAY I PUT A HAND TO MY MOUTH AND GASPED!!! OUT OF SHEER JOY!!!!! #GIGGLING AND SQUEAKING!!!! #MR MUNSON!!!!! #oh I LOVE HIM #SO MUCH #snuck some clarkson in there for the eagle eyed amongst you #AHHHH MUNSON BOYS JUST LEARNING ABOUT EACH KTHER #what if after Steve and Eddie get together steve is round at the trailer #and there’s an ongoing conversation (it’s NOT an argument okay? (it is)) #about Steve playing dnd and Steve’s all ‘wayne will you please tell Eddie not everyone in his life has to play dnd ‘ #and Wayne just has to sit there like ‘well Steve that’d be the pot calling the kettle black’ #and Steve is in SHOCK ‘YOU? he got YOU???’ #and Eddie’s sitting on the couch smug as a pig in shite ‘first ever story stevie’ #AAAAAAA MOMO KISSED AND HUGD AND PRAISE AND ADORATION FOR YOH!!!! #stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #THANK YOU THANK YOU MWAH I’ve not got much to offer I just LOVE YOUR WORDS!! #I always do that shouldn’t be a surprise. #do you know how lucky I feel to get your messages???? #UNREAL

[isnovelman]

Isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? Side Story Chapter 3

***

“Sister, what is this?”

Enrique, who was sitting next to me looking at a picture book, came up to me and asked. In the past, I compulsively read only books that helped my grades, but recently I often opened up picture books that people in my age would like.

I tilted my head at the big circle my little finger was pointing at.

“What? It's the first time I've seen it too.”

“Is there something that sister doesn't know?”

“Of course. And since it's a secret, there's nothing particularly good about showing that you know a lot.”

“why?”

“People are intellectuals… No, it's a nuisance to treat it like a knowledge warehouse. Especially if you are impressed. If you want to show off what you know, give a lecture. Don't give it away for free. got it?”

The youngest in my family was kind and cute, not like Seymour, so I often spilling life hacks that turn blood and become flesh.

'Early education is important.'

Enrique blinked his big eyes as if he didn't understand what I was saying, and I looked into the picture book while stroking his soft hair.

“Now, let’s deduce what the circle that Enrique is curious about is…”

The book the child sees is an imperial genre painting, the table of contents and the surrounding commoners eat it. Looking at the pictures, it seemed like food.

“ah! This is a crepe.”

It was completely different from crepes eaten by nobles, and I couldn't recognize them at a glance.

It seems that common people here spread crepes as big and round as possible on New Year's Day and share them with their families.

“Crepe?”

“Yeah, great crepe. A deal to eat together in the middle of the New Year like this.”

“Ah, that's it.”

Enrique looked at the picture book again as if he had resolved his curiosity, and in the meantime, I leaned on the sofa and meditated.

Recently, I stopped socializing and stayed at home in order to cool off. At the time of the battle with the devil, the divine power, which was filled like sea water, was exhausted like a dry desert by using the power that exceeded the limit at once.

'The recovery rate is too slow. '

Still, there is no need to be impatient, as the strength is slowly returning like water in a bathtub... .

While calming his mind and quietly checking his body, Enrique's nanny came to the annex. Seeing that Enrique didn't say much, he seemed to get along well with his new nanny.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s time for the master to receive tutoring.”

“Teaching?”

“Yes, I said I wanted to. swordsmanship tutoring.”

Enrique intervened.

“Why did you suddenly want to learn swordsmanship? "

“I want to be strong. More than the magic swordsman duke. I will protect the empire with my sister later!”

Enrique declared with his big eyes twinkling.

“okay. Regular exercise is good.”

“And I, too, will be taller.”

“Then I will have to eat more than I do now. Don’t be picky.”

"yes! I will eat fish and carrots well.”

As Enrique grabbed the picture book and got up from his seat, the nanny opened her mouth as if thinking of something.

“Ah, the Duke was wondering what kind of food he would like to have at dinner.”

“I want to eat the king crepe.”

Enrique opened the book and pointed to the picture, and a warm color appeared around the nanny's eyes.

“Well, this is the food that commoners eat mostly… .”

“what are you saying? If our Enrique, want to eat, we should eat.”

It wasn't that he was really angry, but the nanny was startled and joking around as if he had heard the story of the senior who disappeared without even a mouse or a bird.

“That’s right, Princess!”

“See you at dinner tomorrow, Enrique.”

“Yeah, sister!”

Seeing Enrique dyed her cheeks red with excitement, a pleasant smile flowed out at the same time.

'and… Tomorrow Isidor will come to my house.'

It seemed to make me feel even more excited because I was going to spend the New Year with my fiancé, who had been crazy busy.

You can only think of your face. I was also seriously ill.

***

“Mr. Rosad.”

"What?"

“Duke Seymour is going to have a dinner party tonight, aren't you going to participate?”

Rosad, who was flipping through the invitations piled up on the desk, asked the vassal attentively.

“Sudden dinner? Why?”

“It seems that the Duke of Visconti is visiting for New Year's greetings, so he has arranged a place for him.”

“New Year’s greetings. It's been a while since he got betrothed, and he is already trying to become a son-in-law.”

He put down the letter in his hand and clicked his tongue.

“Ugh. I don't know if they're going to have a wedding soon.”

Since Deborah is of marriageable age, it was not strange to set the wedding date right away.

“Ah...”

Rosad suddenly realized something and clapped her fingers with her face.

“He seems to be meeting with father today to confirm the wedding date. New Year's greetings, It’s a good excuse.”

“It will be the wedding of the century. Seymour and Visconti, Saint and the Demon Sword Sarani…”

This was a marriage that would remain in the history of the empire. I couldn't even imagine what a bold and great second generation would be born.

“Hmm, when I was Isidore's age, I would have liked to have more fun.”

How many women are there in the world.

Rosard, who had no desire to be bound by anyone yet, thought so.

“The Duke of Visconti has a reputation for clean privacy and asceticism.”

“… Are you saying that if Isidor is clean, I'm resentful?”

“Oh, no! Does that mean? In terms of personal life, it means that she and Princess Deborah, who is the embodiment of the saint, get along very well. ha, ha.”

“In terms of personal life, am I disqualified as a saint’s brother?”

As he continued to sarcastic, his face turned pale.

“The most popular and respected person in the Empire these days is Rosad, undoubted! ”

After Isidor was officially out of stock, Rosard rose to the top of Asteria. Rosard, who socializes and manages his network sensibly, was more popular with the ladies than belek, who was a recluse man.

Therefore, invitations to the New Year's party of a noble family with a daughter of marriageable age were pouring down on him like a torrential rain.

“Have you decided which family you will accept today’s invitation?”

The vassal quickly changed the subject, and Rosad raised his silver eyebrows sternly.

“It's cold here, so I'm not going anywhere. I want to eat at home, so clear my schedule”

“Are you going to dinner?”

“A man knows better than the same man.”

“Yes?”

“The Duke of Visconti, as rumored, means that I am going to give him a try.”

***

“Were you both at home?”

Duke Seymour was stunned as he saw the twins who appeared as they walked into the banquet hall.

“You look like you're idle for some reason.”

“This year, you don't have to write a plan to get a budget. Patent performance last year was very good.”

Belek, who bragged about his pride, looked around the banquet hall, raising his glasses.

“It looks like Isidor hasn't arrived yet.”

“I’m walking with Deborah. I'm going to be on time, so sit down first.”

“To use Seymour Townhouse as a date spot. The more I look at him, the more he looks bold...”

Belek sat down in a suitable place with admiration, and Rosad opened his mouth with the long corners of his eyes closed.

“Father”

“Why do you have such a contemplative face?”

“Today, I’m going to bring out the high-quality alcohol I’ve been saving for a while.”

“… Are you going to give Isidor a drink?”

“It’s not like we were connected with Lord Isidor for a day or two, we’re comrades who fought together against the great devil, but I’ve never been openly deceived by a man-to-man relationship.”

“He’s an inhuman guy who only comes out with a joke no matter how much he confides, but what will come out of him if he only has alcohol in it?”

“You’ve already robbed a lot.”

As Belek dared to point it out, Duke Seymour narrowed his eyes.

“Be quiet.”

“…okay.”

“Yeah, well, alcohol… If you drink in moderation to relax the atmosphere, it won’t be bad.”

Zad called a servant and had him take out the keg he had stored in the deepest part of his wine cellar.

The fragrance is soft and the taste is clean, and it passes through the throat in an instant, but the alcohol content is very strong, so it is an item that can unblock the mind in an instant.

“Father!”

“Enrique ere you here?”

After a while, when the youngest appeared, Duke Seymour folded the folds around his eyes and stroked his soft hair a few times.

“You said our youngest wanted a big crepe?”

“Yes, it’s a deal to eat on New Year’s Day.”

“Hey, commoners eat like that.”

Duke Seymour saw with white eyes Belek, who broke the colic.

“A fifty-inch-diameter crepe topped with truffles and gold powder and stuffed with caviar.”

“… Common people can't eat it. ”

“Father, my sister is here.”

“uh? Do we have brother Belek and brother Rosad too?”

Busy twins Because of Deborah walked in with the look of being the only one who had both of them stuck in the corner of the house.

Seymour's men's eyes focused on the direction she was standing, and then fixed as if being nailed to Isidore, who was next to her.

Perhaps because he had been exercising more, Isidore's physique seemed to be exceptionally large today. They call him foxes, but to be honest, his body was a giant beast.

'Even if you search all over the empire, there is no one like him.'

The outer shell is absolutely perfect, the rumors are clean, and above all, the gaze on Deborah is too explicit.

'Shit'

Unintentionally, Belek's arm became like chicken meat.

What the hell are you going to do with such a transparent bastard. Isn't that just a honey bucket for my sister.

[kidflashimpulse]

imma keep it real with you chief: nothing about Bart and Jaime's dynamic has ever read as romantic to me, on either side, but if Bart having a crush on Jaime (either present or past tense) isn't the main thing going on in your high school fic then i'll for sure read it anyway because i like your stuff a lot :) (also the fact it's apparently on the darker side despite being a no powers AU has me intrigued. murder mystery or something?? interested to find out)

and i totally understand that! just like how characterisation can ultimately be up to interpretation it’s the same with relationships and i can’t say i don’t see where ur coming from, i think a lot of their S2 interactions has been occasionally misconstrued with romantic undertones when they very much could be interpreted as just not (for all sorts of reasons both super obvious as well as not)

infamous age gap at the time (being the obvious one) aside, a literal alien invasion and earth-dooming prophecy is practically a constant in the backdrop of their friendship, so there really is a lot to consider when interpreting their interactions (like multiple takes i’ve read about ppl finding bart incredibly underhanded (totally fair and agreed) in the friendship). I do think though that the genuine aspect of their friendship did rapidly develop early on in the season even with bart’s underhandedness, just like that rlly interesting ask/masterpost on kidcooper02 blog about their friendship outlined (great read btw highly reccomend if ppl haven’t yet lol), ultimately it comes down to their friendship not being as black and white/clear cut as people might like it to be.

Multiple things can be true at the same time. Jaime had been missing his best friend at the time, was somewhat of an outcast as a newcomer on the Team and was thrust into the world of heroes/villains, I think it’s understandable that he would latch on to a good friendship with Bart just as much as even with all his hidden intentions, Bart, essentially a fish out of temporal water, would too.

So whilst i HC bart having had a crush on jaime at some point, it’s not because i necessarily interpret their dynamic as romantic throughout the season(s), it’s more out of potential because of plot circumstances and characterisation where i just don’t think it would be far fetched for it to occur.

Sorry for the unasked for essay lol but i felt like it wouldn’t hurt to explain my thought process a bit because i’m sure others share the same perspective as u and i do think it’s an interesting topic to think about too in general. Bart is my favorite all time character but Jaime is very dear to me too so I just think it’s such a cool topic ultimately :)

Also you are so sweet and thank you for sharing this with me <3 i’m not gonna lie, with every chapter or story i come up with i do always worry whether ppl will enjoy it or not, but i won’t know if i don’t try and also what some enjoy, others won’t and vice versa. That’s just a fact. But I have a lot of fun putting all this together and reading about others interpretations is also always such a highlight

It’s not an “in your face” type of dark, it’s more along the lines of the type of dark that i directly interpret from/on par with the show (ig what tv tropes calls fridge horror lol). Personally i love those type of settings so i’m really excited to share it and i do hope u will enjoy it :) i would be very much interested in hearing ur thoughts on it after i do post it :D

It’s still in its drafting stages and unfinished, so it might be a while. But hopefully sooner rather than later lol

#YJ asks #young justice #jaime reyes #blue beetle #bart allen #kid flash #impulse #young justice invasion #yjtv

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 6 Confliction - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I really want to give a huge, huge thank you to @tebdundy on tumblr for editing and dealing with my constant check ups and stuff, you are so amazing for helping me. It means a whole lot. You can find more of me on instragram, wattpad, and AO3 (under the same username). Okay, onto the chapter!

WARNING: a lot of angst, rejection

Your ship was on fire. Every belonging, every single thing you had worked so hard for was gone. Your guns, clothes, even appliances you had never given a second thought, gone. And it hit you like a shot. The moment you took in that your ship was on fire, you shut down. Your mind began to wander. What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?

The next thing you could remember was Spike shaking your shoulders to snap you back to reality. You struggled to form a response. You tried to open your mouth, give some indication that you could feel and see him. In reality, the only thing you could really feel was a dull ache in your spine, each vertebrae mounting with an odd, uncomfortable pain.

The shock was setting in.

You blinked, eyes glassy as you watched firefighters put your ship out of her misery. There was no noise. You couldn't feel your fingertips, your face. You couldn't feel anything. Just that dull ache creeping up your spine.

Thoughts spiraled through your aching head, moving so quickly you could hardly keep up. It felt like you were at war with yourself, trying to keep yourself conscious and cognizant of the situation, while you sank deeper and deeper into your head.

This is just a small hiccup.

Just an obstacle that needed to be conquered, a hurdle you needed to jump over.

This is all your fault, you’ll never bounce back.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid.

You always ruin everything for yourself.

You might as well give up now.

There’s no coming back from this one.

You’re a disappointment.

You’ve failed.

It ate you up like a starving monster devouring a poor soul who crossed its path. Dark tendrils of shame, anger, and sadness weaved into your head, wrapping around your mind and tightening with every passing second. You were going to drown.

Push it down. Push it down. Grieve later. Think now. Grieve later. Think now.

You needed to figure out what you were going to do next. You needed to get out of your head. You desperately tried to claw your way out of this state. Taking a deep breath, you tried to make sense of the chaos around you.

You were sitting on the ground, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You felt the cold stone of the dock under your legs, felt the itchiness of the thick wool wrapped around you. You watched as Jet ran over to Spike, shouting over the sounds of panic that had flooded your head just moments before. Spike was staring at you, his face riddled with concern. You heard him call your name. You didn’t respond.

It was usually so hard to read him, to figure out what he was feeling. But now, it was so incredibly clear. You saw the emotions flashing in his eyes as he called for you again. Loss, guilt, despair, mania, heartbreak.

You felt Jet’s strong hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He said, his brows furrowed.

You swallowed. Do not cry. Do not cry. Wait until you're alone. Push it down.

"I think...I think— a glass of water."

-

"How much do you have?"

"About 200,000 woolong."

"Well, that ain't much."

"Well, I wasn’t expecting to lose everything I own."

You sipped your coffee slowly as you, Spike and Jet discussed a solution to your giant, unavoidable problem. No matter how much you told them that you were okay and could take care of yourself, they insisted on helping you. Deep down, you appreciated it, because you definitely weren’t okay and wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself.

You picked at the eggs on your plate, imagining sleeping in your own bed right now. Wearing your favorite shirt. Eating breakfast in your small kitchen. Watching the morning news in your room. Maybe have someone with you, showing him everything you owned like an excited child because you were so proud of how far you came from your first bounty to now. Things you’ll never be able to do again.

You felt silly and materialistic, mourning the loss of your belongings. But when you worked so hard for something you wanted for so long, building it up over the years, and losing it all in seconds? It's very hard to not mourn.

You had tried to pack light, to not become attached to material possessions. That was one of the first things that you were told by other bounty hunters. When you had first considered entering this god-forsaken profession, you sought out the help of any bounty hunter you came across, trying to glean any useful knowledge from those more experienced than you. You got too comfortable and started to ignore that piece of advice, and now you’re crying over some clothes and dishes.

But your keepsakes, your souvenirs. Ties to your troubled past. Memories of old friends, places, and happy times. Gone, burnt to a crisp.

"How much is a night stay here in town?" You spoke up, interrupting Spike and Jet’s bickering.

"You don't even want to know. The further you go into the city, the worse the rates are. I looked at a couple of places, and it does not look good." Jet replied, taking a sip from his mug.

"And staying on the streets isn't too good either," Spike muttered.

"Wasn't planning on it, but thanks for the advice." You snapped back.

The tension was thick in the air between you and Spike. Maybe it was because of your interrupted intimacy from the previous night, or the fact that neither of you had slept for the past 24 hours. But you couldn't understand why he was taking his frustration out on you. You hadn’t planned for your ship to burn to ash. You didn’t want to be a burden.

"I have a suggestion. Well, more of a proposal." Jet said.

You perked up. "And what's that?" Even before Jet could say anything, you already felt guilty about it.

"You can stay with us on the Bebop until you find your feet again."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do what now?!" Spike hissed softly.

"But, "Jet held up his hand to Spike, who sighed loudly, annoyed. "I have a few conditions."

It kind of pissed you off how Spike was reacting to all of this. Actually, kind of was an understatement. It really pissed you off, almost offended you on how he was acting. Just a few hours ago, he was desperate to get into your pants, and now he was throwing a hissy fit at the thought of you living on the Bebop. Isn't this a good thing, you being able to spend more time together?

"Just contribute to the Bebop. Whenever you cash in a bounty, set some aside for fuel, food, all that good jazz. Maybe cook dinner sometimes, or clean the bathroom. Other than that, don’t worry about it." Jet said.

A cloud of suspicion settled across your thoughts.

"That's it?" You asked, “Are you sure?”

Jet chuckled. “There’re other rules, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have a feeling you know how to respect other people’s spaces and belongings. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You glanced at Spike, who was leaning back, staring out the window. He met your gaze, eyes unreadable once again. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like an entirely new person, one who just wanted you to piss off and leave him to his business. You tried to shrug off his sudden coldness, but it bothered you. It stung.

-

The walk back to the Bebop wasn't too bad, but trying to initiate a conversation with Spike was difficult. All he did was grunt in response, a few "oh yeah”s and “huh”s thrown in for good measure. You hoped it was because he was tired, and not that he was pissed off that you were going to be invading his space.

The guilt was heavy on your shoulders. You certainly weren’t a freeloader, but you couldn't help but feel like you had already overstayed your welcome. And you haven’t even stepped foot on the ship yet. You didn't want Spike to be distant from you. Even though you had just met him, you wanted him to be closer to you than anyone else. You wanted to reach out to him, hold onto him and never let him go. Instead, he was pushing you away.

You weren’t good with rejection. Rejection defined who you were today and had been a driving factor to almost everything in your life. You had managed to take ahold of those haunting feelings and build them into a hard shell to protect yourself, vowing to never show your vulnerability or true feelings. You had pushed the old version of you so deep down that it would never escape. You had been doing so well, but the last few days had shown you that the hard work you put into being a completely emotionless bitch was all for nothing.

Jet was going into an extensive explanation of the ship, where you could take a shower, where your room was. He explained that the Bebop was once a fishing ship from Ganymede, and how he had fixed it up to be a high-tech, fully functional ship of today (his words, not yours).

"She operates well when treated right. However, some of our crew members would say otherwise." Jet grumbled. "Speaking of, did Faye tell you-"

"I haven't seen Faye since two days ago. Her ship was still gone, the last I saw." Spike muttered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Besides, why do you care?"

Jet held up his hands. "It was just a question. Jeez." Spike muttered something in response.

You suddenly remembered the bounty on Faye’s head, but it didn’t really matter right now. That was all on the back burner for now, seeing as every plan you could think of required a ship that wasn’t the one Faye was living on. And you really didn't want to make enemies of your new crew this early on. All you cared about right now was taking a shower to wash all of last night's events off you and getting some shut-eye.

You wondered whether Jet was aware of your previous intentions of collecting the big bounty on Faye. You had asked him if Faye was joining the group for dinner last night, with no context. There was no answer, but that also could mean he took in what you said and was processing what you really intended to do if Faye did show up at the dinner. Remembering your first meeting with Spike, he told you clearly he doesn't care if she got captured or not. So you have two people who are on opposite ends of the discussion. One is in charge of the Bebop and which bounties to pursue, and the other one likes to smoke and philosophize.

The obvious correct choice was clear, but you decide to choose the latter.

"When you come in, don't be too surprised by some of our unique characters." Jet remarked. "You've already met us two, but there are a few more along the way."

"I like to think I'm also a unique character, so we should get along." You replied happily, a tint of exhaustion underlying in your words. Spike scoffed, walking over to open the small hatch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, a full night's worth of frustration threatening to overflow in the form of obscenities and insults.

"Are you talking to me?" Spike said over his shoulder, punching in the security numbers on the small pad. The hatch to the side of the Bebop creaked open, landing on the stone pier with a hard thunk. "I’m tired. And when I’m tired, I don’t put my energy into pulling punches and being nice.Got it, (Y/N)?"

You bit down on your tongue. "Never mind. What were you saying, Jet?"

You could hear a quiet, "Yeah that's what I thought." echoing up into the Bebop. Rolling it off your shoulders, you turned your focus to Jet as you both walked into the ship.

Opening a round metal door, you looked up to see a dimming bulb illuminating the cylinder passage. The walls were yellowing, patched with dark, aging metal, and littered with hazard signs. Jet walked over to a ladder bolted on the wall and began to climb.

"I'll tell you, you’ll get a real workout just getting around this ship." Jet laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Are there a lot of these around the ship?" You said, following.

"Oh yeah, plenty. But if you stay in the living area, you don’t really need to worry about them. I'll show you around anyway, just in case we need you to get something. We wouldn’t want you to get lost." Jet smiled.

He hopped into the center gravity passage, holding out his hand to you. You grabbed it gratefully, not realizing how much of a drop it was to the floor of the tube until you looked back down.

"Oh damn." You exclaimed, looking down. "That's pretty far."

"It’s just 15 feet. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you." Jet chuckled, closing the metal door. "Alright, so this is the lower gravity passage. It leads to the living area, that includes bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and to the storage area."

Spike was nowhere to be seen in the passage. You assumed he was already in the living room, smoking before heading off to bed. Jet opened a sliding metal door marked “Storage”. You peered into the dark room.

"This is where we keep extra ammunition, supplies, and medical boxes.”

Jet pressed a button next to the storage door, one that opened to the living area. The walls were a gradient blue color, illuminated with warm lighting. The staircase was a dark, metallic gold leading to a dark blue platform. On the floor was a yellow couch, and across from it was a single matching seat. In between them sat a knee-level coffee table with a holoTV, a computer, and someone's breakfast. Jet walked in first, stepping down. "This is the living room.” He pointed to the set on top of the table. “You’re welcome to use the holoTV and the computer, everybody shares them.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure whose breakfast that is, but don’t touch it. People are pretty possessive of food on this ship.”

Right as you took a step in, you heard the light pattering of paws bouncing into the living room. From a staircase leading down, two small light brown ears popped up. Then two big brown eyes peered over, searching for the source of commotion in the room.

"You guys have a dog?!" You asked, practically jumping down the stairs. The small Welsh corgi was seemingly just as excited as you were, running and tripping up the stairs to meet you. You extended your hand, letting him sniff you.

Jet chuckled. "Cute little thing, isn't he? His name is Ein."

"Oh, he's adorable. Who’s a good boy?" You cooed, bending down to rub Ein's ears. He stretched his head out, his little stumpy tail going a hundred miles a minute.

"And usually tagging along with Ein is-" Jet was interrupted by the pounding footsteps coming from downstairs.

"They're back, they're back, they're back!" a scrawny red-headed kid rejoiced, waving their arms about. "Ed was worried, but now Jet’s back, and Ed is okay again!"

The kid's smile stretched from ear to ear, clearly more than ecstatic to see Jet back home. They grabbed the plate from on top of the table and plopped down next to a box with a computer on top. They gobbled up what was left of their food, before bending their head back to get a look at you. "Who are you?"

"This is (Y/N), they're going to be staying on the Bebop for a little bit." Jet replied, walking over to the table. He turned back to you. "Ed is a computer genius and a damn good hacker. You ever need someone to work out some malicious malware, Ed’s your girl."

“Hi, it's nice to meet you." You said, giving Ed a small smile and a wave. She scampered over to you on all fours with her behind high in the air, chattering to herself.

“Stranger, changer, danger! Hihi...”

You laughed nervously, glancing back at Jet, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused. The girl stopped at your feet. “Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth,” she said matter of factly. Ed grabbed your hand and sniffed. You had met some oddballs in your time, but this one took the cake. She made a face and jumped back, her hands covering her nose and mouth. "Ed thinks you stink!"

You sucked in air between your teeth. Did you really smell that bad, or was it another talent of this child prodigy? That’s so embarrassing. "Is it that noticeable?"

Jet half-smiled. "Doesn't bother me none. Thought I wouldn’t mention it till you could do somethin about it."

He was just going to let you find out later? No wonder Spike didn't want to be anywhere near you. It wasn’t even your first day of being on the Bebop, and you were not making a great first impression.

"Let me show you the kitchen." Jet motioned for you to follow up a small set of stairs through a large circular door frame leading down a small hallway. You turned into the kitchen, completed with a fridge, stove, oven, and a small countertop. The kitchen was dark, the only light in the room was the dimming orange ashes of Spike's cigarette falling on the floor. He was leaning against the countertop, staring down at his cig.

"There you are, Spike." Jet flipped the lights on, revealing a slightly disorderly kitchen. Spike winced, covering his eyes.

"Jesus, Jet give me a warning next time," Spike mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. Your annoyance and anger at him suddenly disappeared. That voice. You wanted to hear that voice again. You wanted to put your hand on his chest and feel the vibrations of that voice. Every time you tried to find some way to be mad at him again, he just had to stand there, looking cool and intoxicatingly seductive. You craved him like an alcoholic craved whiskey.

"Are you finished with the grand tour?" Spike asked, his heavy-lidded eyes looking away from you and Jet.

"Not yet, but I was hoping you could finish it."

"I’m not in the mood for hospitality right now. I'm going to bed." Spike said, making his way to the door.

"Just show her on the way there. And be nice, she's our guest." Jet warned, sorting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, show me some respect." You teased. But Spike clearly was not in the mood. Instead, he turned away from you, rolling his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen

Jet patted you on the back. "Give him a minute, he'll come around."

"Thank you for everything, Jet. It means a lot." You smiled.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. If anything comes up, I'll send the cavalry after you." He said, gesturing to the living room.

You took a deep breath before heading out of the kitchen. Ed was sitting motionless in a trance-like state, her eyes engulfed with giant goggles. Ein lay peacefully on the couch, watching as you followed Spike down the steps into the living room.

This was the first time you and Spike had been alone since last night. Just hours ago, you were definitely not afraid to touch him. Now, you didn't even want to take a step near him.

"Are you coming or what?" Spike called out impatiently, already halfway downstairs to the lower part of the living area. "I don't have all day."

"I'm here." You raced over, gliding your hand down the rail. Spike continued his way down, turning around a corner. The walk down the hallway was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Neither of you wanted to do small talk. Spike probably didn’t want to talk at all, but you had to know. You had to ask him.

"Spike?” you asked quietly. You wrung your fingers around each other anxiously. Spike stayed silent, his quick pace faltering before coming to a stop in front of a door.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You finally asked. Spike seemed to tense up, his jaw clenching. Deciding to press on further, you continued.

“I umm,” you mumbled, “I may have been drunk and you probably were too, but why are you so cold to me now when we were literally about f-“

“This is the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower.” Spike interrupted. Your heart dropped to your stomach. So much for answers. “There should be some clean towels. You can wash your clothes upstairs, Jet can show you where the washer is. Your room’s gonna be the first door you see when you reach the top of the stairs. It’ll be all yours till you leave.”

Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke before making his way slowly down the hallway. You looked at him in disbelief. He definitely remembers. And he’s rejecting it. You and him. Cutting it off before it starts, pushing you away.

You stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind you before tears of anger and resentment started to fall down your face. How can you feel so much emotion for someone who shows none? You lost your home and belongings. You didn’t want to lose anything else.

-

After a long hot shower, you stood in front of the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. You were going to have to get essentials eventually, a comb and a toothbrush would be nice. But that would have to wait. You rubbed circles on your temple, your impending exhaustion headache approaching fast.

After drying yourself off, you slipped your old clothes back on. It felt awful putting dirty clothes on your clean body, but you were not about to walk around the ship in a towel. You had already dug yourself a deep enough hole with Spike, you didn’t want to traumatize Jet, the kid, or the dog.

As you wrapped your hair in a towel, you heard shouting from outside. You combed through who it could be. Spike and Jet. Or Jet and Ed. Or Spike and Ein, or Ein and Ed. There were quite a few combinations.

“First fight on the Bebop.” You muttered to yourself. “So excited.”

This was so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. All you had to do was walk past and not get involved. Unless it was about you, then you would at least try to defend yourself. You opened the door, listening intently.

“What the fuck-“ more shouting. “And you bastards decide to tell me now?!” A shrill female voice was yelling. A table got knocked over. You could hear stomping and more shouting. “Well, where the hell are they?!”

Whoop, time to hide.

You shut the door and the latch clicked with a loud cathunk. You hoped they hadn’t heard it. You were down a big hallway, there was no way that they could’ve heard it. You had a pretty good idea of who the screaming was coming from, and you were not ready to meet her right now.

The sounds of stomping grew louder, getting closer to the bathroom door. Your fight-or-flight mode started to set in. With how pissed she sounded, stomping and roaring, this may as well be a life-or-death situation.

You rolled your neck, stretching your arms out. If you needed to defend yourself, you were going to have to do it bare-knuckled. No guns, knives, bars of soap, nothing. You flexed your hands, cracking your knuckles. You planted yourself in front of the door. The footsteps outside stopped. This was it! You were ready for anything.

Bam!

The door slid open. Faye Valentine stood on the other side, hands on her hips. She was panting from her ranting and raving in the other room. She smiled, her eyes a little too wide. You couldn’t tell if she was happy, crazy, or surprised.

“Hi there, you must be our newest crew member! My name is Faye, it’s so nice to meet you, girly!” She beamed, her eyes manic.

Not the response you were expecting. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” You held out your hand. She took it, her soft palms gripping your hand a little bit too tight. She shook your hand. She kept shaking. And shaking. You pulled back, trying your best to put on a friendly face.

“Sorry if I’m hogging the bathroom, there was an accident last night and I was so dirty, I just had to have a shower.” You smiled, stepping to the side.

“Oh no! You’re totally fine. I was just looking for the toilet, I guess I got lost.” She replied, waving her hand.

“The toilet’s just across the hall from your room, how long have you been here-“ Jet was cut off by Faye’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs. Jet grabbed his side in pain, giving you a half-smile.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I’m really tired. I’m going to go get some sleep.” You smiled apologetically and gestured to the stairs.

Jet and Faye’s voices mingled with each other, overlapping into a confusing symphony of hospitality and kindness.

“Yeah, no worries!”

“Call us if you need anything!”

“We’ll be right here!”

Smiling, you gave a small wave, turned around, and basically sprinted down the hallway to the living room. You heard Faye hiss, “You didn’t tell me she was a girl, dumbass.”

“I was going to before you blew up at me. If you had let me finish, I would’ve. Why are you so pissed off about another crew member, anyway?”

“I’m tired of all the men on this ship, I didn’t want another one. And I thought they were going to take my room...”

Their bickering trailed off as you climbed up the two sets of stairs to your new room. Ed was still on the floor with her goggles on, humming to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fight that had just happened. Ein cautiously sniffed the overturned table, before settling onto the floor next to Ed, resting his head on her lap. You would’ve said goodnight, but they seemed to be in their own little world and you were happy to let them stay like that.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two doors directly across from each other, one on each side of the landing. Spike had said it was “the first door you’d see”, but that wasn’t particularly helpful in this situation. Hoping you were correct, you quietly walked over to the door to your left, pressing the button to open it.

Your breath hitched as the door opened to see Spike fast asleep in his bed. He snored lightly, sleeping so deeply he didn’t hear the hiss and clink of the door opening. His arms were behind his head and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest was hypnotic. Even asleep he was really, really attractive. You fumbled over yourself trying to shut the door. It finally latched, and you let out a breath.

Sighing, you turned towards the door behind you. This one had to be it. You opened it to see a small, sparse room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped on the light. Pushed up against the far wall was a simple bed, and to your right was a small desk built into the wall with an old armchair next to it. There was a closet in the far corner, but the door was locked and some large boxes were stacked in front of it. They must not get many guests, it seemed like this room was mainly used for storage.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion overtaking your body, you flopped onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft, with a pillow and tan comforter neatly folded on top. You didn’t know how to thank Jet for being so kind and accommodating. Next time you cashed in a big bounty, you were going to set aside some woolongs to buy him a thank you gift.

On top of the pillow, you noticed a pair of black shorts and a yellow button-up. Pinned to the shirt was a note, clearly written in a hurry.

Some clean clothes. You smell like shit.

-S

You laughed. He’s straight-talking, that’s for sure. You slipped on the shorts and buttoned the shirt halfway up. Spreading out the comforter, you crawled underneath. You were already half-asleep, and thinking about how breathtakingly attractive Spike looked asleep relaxed you even more. Your mental snapshot of your accidental encounter was glued to your eyelids. It was never going to happen again, but you got to have one taste of beauty while here.

You gently wrapped your arms around your pillow, thoughts of Spike disappearing into clouds of empty dreams. It was so much better to fall asleep to thinking of someone, rather than no one at all.

And even though it was going to hurt, you would do it again and again.

-

[A/N] all I got to say is fasten your seatbelts for the next chapter, slut puppies.

#faye valentine #cowboy bebop #90s anime #jet black #radical edward #adult swim #toonami #ein #fanfiction #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #see ya space cowboy

[thedyingwriter]

BTS hybrid X Reader AU

Part 1 | Part 2

Character (age)

Kim Seokjin- Fox hybrid (28)

Min Yoongi- Jaguar hybrid (27)

Jung Hoseok- G. Retriever hybrid (26)

Kim Namjoon- Wolf hybrid (26)

Park Jimin- Cat hybrid (25)

Kim Taehyung- Panther hybrid (25)

Jeon Jungkook- Rabbit hybrid (23)

Reader- Dr Kang Seo Yoon (27)

Jaehyun- Seo Yoon's best friend and coworker. (25 for the sake of the Story)

Summary

{ Dr Kang Seo Yoon was a very successful researcher and doctor of the hybrids and worked at the hybrid welfare center. She lived with her six hybrids- Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook- who had grown up on her through the years when she found them at the rescue shelters. She was a kind and empathetic person who had used all her resources and knowledge for the betterment of the hybrid species. What will happen when she comes across an injured Panther hybrid Taehyung outside her house and decides to help him regardless of him being hardly human towards her. Will she take him in? Will he become a part of her sweet happy family? }

Chapter 1

The Injured Hybrid

" Wake up noona" Seo Yoon heard the voice of Jungkook shaking her from slumber. He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck tickling her with his soft ears. She chuckled at his action and finally got up.

"Aish, kookie where do you get so much energy at 5 in the morning." You said gently rubbing his bunny ears. He purred.

"Noona everyone is sleeping and I have been up for a while. I didn't want to disturb you but you said you have to wake up early for your work today so I thought I should come and see" He said his cute smile on full display a faint shade of red on his cheeks.

"Let's go and make some breakfast for everyone then, you can help me" She said getting down from her bed and following Jungkook towards the kitchen. The 23 year old was always cheerful making sure everyone around him is happy too. For his age he definitely acts like a cute lil toddler but she loved him dearly.

"Kookie I plan on making fried rice and omelette for breakfast. I'll start with the rice could you whisk me some eggs?" She told him and he nodded while grabbing a large bowl and a crate of egg from the fridge.

Seo Yoon was cutting the vegetable when Jin walked in the kitchen his hair a mess. "Good morning Jin oppa" "Good morning hyung" You and Jungkook said at the same time.

She felt gentle hands at your back, untying your apron. “I can take over Y/N, why don’t you go take a bath? You have to be at the center early for the rounds right? " Jin said shaking your hair.

“Thank you oppa, what Would I do without you” she said, stepping away from the stove. If Seo Yoon weren’t cooking, Jin was. He loved the activity ever since you taught him how. Soon enough he surpassed her skills, creating mouth-watering dishes. In thanks, she rubbed his dark fox ears. He leaned into your touch, fluffy tail swaying.

"Noona shall I go and wake all the hyung while you get ready? " Jungkook asked.

"Yes kookie that would be really helpful. Tell them all to brush their teeth and come for breakfast. " She said and walked back to her room to get ready for the day. Seo Yoon and Jaehyun had to work hard today. It was an open out patient day and different shelters were bringing their hybrids for checkups. She took a shower and dressed up in jeans and a formal shirt tying her hair in a ponytail her beautiful bangs covering her forehead. She could hear the commotion of the boys from the kitchen. She took her white coat and some files and walked out towards them.

All of them were sitting on the counter eating their food. All the 6 hybrids looked cute in messy hairs and pyjamas while stuffing their mouths with food. She took out your phone and clicked a picture. The sound of the shutter gathering everyone's attention. Despite most of them being younger than her, she insisted on them calling her by her name as she felt really old though Jungkook still called her noona because he always wanted an elder sister.

" Aahh Seo Yoon, you look so pretty. Come join us for breakfast " Hobi said wagging his tail happily. She went to sit with them patting each of their hair as they smiled at her. Yoongi took her in a hug and passed her a travel coffee container filled with her favorite drink which he made each morning for her. She took a sip and groaned in pleasure while everyone laughed at her love for coffee which she shared with Yoongi. " What would I do without you Yoongi oppa. I can hardly work without your coffee. " She said and sat down to eat her breakfast.

*****

After breakfast Jimin went and kept her files and coat inside her car and Jin packed her lunch. She picked her bag and was ready to leave. Namjoon came to her and gave her a hug. It was their thing. Every hybrid hugged her before she went out showing affection. She kissed Joonie's cheeks and then hugged Hobi. Jimin and Jungkook group hugged her nearly trampling her on the floor with so much force and enthusiasm. Yoongi kissed her cheek as she went out to her car where Jin was ready to drive her to the center. He liked driving her and would spend an hr with shelter kids helping around and come back in an hour. His dark green silk scarf which acted as a collar sat perfectly on his neck. Jin dropped her at her office saying goodbye and going towards the shelters behind the building.

Seo Yoon entered her building and was immediately met with the strong smell of hospital which she has grown to call home now. She went to her locker and changed into her scrubs and came to her office which she shared with her best friend Jaehyun who as usual was late as always. 10 minutes later you heard the door open and a panting Jaehyun in his scrubs appeared before you.

"I'm sorry I'm late, before you say anything Seo Yoon, Ik it's third time this week and today we have a busy day ahead of us but what can I do I was watching a drama at night and couldn't get up early because of lack of sleep. " He ranted in a breath going on and on about how the protagonist if the drama was so stupid for not understanding the guy loves her.

She shook her head. " Aeyah!! stop talking Jae before I murder you. One day I'll give you a nice trashing for how casually you take me. " She said with a pout. He laughed at her and hugged her as she melted into giggles. She can never be mad at the kid. He was way too sweet and cute.

Somebody knocked at the door and a nurse appeared. " Dr Kang and Dr Jaehyun, the patients are here. We can start with the day. " She said and left.

******

Jae and Seo Yoon sat at the table and opened their lunches. Jin always packed food for your best friend who loved his food even though Jaehyun himself was an excellent cook.

"I'm coming to your place for the weekend. I really miss the boys. It's been a while. And this week we even have the Saturday off from shelter duty" Jae said with his mouth stuffed. She has lived so much around boys now that it's hard for her to remember what sophisticated people looked like.

"Why don't you just move in with me. You already live at my place nearly all the time when we aren't working" I scoffed. Her place is more or less like an open motel for her friends to stay in whenever they want considering the size of her big real estate. After her father's demise when she inherited his wealth. She decided to make a big place where she can adopt some hybrids and live happily. It had literally all the required materials a person could need to survive in luxury. She really had spoiled all the boys with 24x7 wifi and gaming.

Jaehyun shook his head and laughed at her scowled face. He loved teasing the older girl.

"Why noona that's an excellent idea. I'll have an amazing time with the boys and get free food. " She got up and punched his arm. She absolutely did not liked being called noona.

"I told you not to call me noona or I'll give you a good trashing. " She angrily chewed on her fish.

"Ayee you are biased Seo Yoon, why does jungkook gets to call you noona and all of us don't. " He teased her further.

"Well if you really want an answer he is more cuter, is good at everything, doesn't gives me a headache every 10 minute and definitely isn't a constant pain in my ass. " She said laughing and Jaehyun threw her a dirty look.

*******

When Seo Yoon left the hospital in the evening it was quite late then usual. Jaehyun had left half an hour ago but she stayed looking at the shelter kids who ran around each other enjoying life without a worry. She had a smile on her face and a tear in her eyes as she walked back to her home. She always liked walking back to home and it wasn't an issue as it was a highly safe residential society with great love for people and hybrid. She felt someone's presence behind her and immediately knew who it was.

"Jin oppa you didn't have to come I was on my way. " She said and turned to see a flustered Jin caught following her. He was worried that she was coming home alone so late and thought to accompany her.

"How did you know it was me? Do you have a secret third eye behind your head or something? " He said and took your backpack from you holding your hands firmly.

"Well I have been around you since the beginning. It's easy to feel your presence. It's a girl thing. " She said and looked in the front. They were very close to their home.

A young man clad in black outfit was walking in front of them. He had a slight limp and looked almost drunk from pain. As if he was drowning his sorrows. He was limping towards the other side when he suddenly disappeared from their eye sight.

"Oppa did you see that? " She asked Jin. Jin pulled her behind him and they both walked quietly towards the road crossing. A black van was parked ans the man from earlier was being pushed inside it. He was being abducted. 2 men pushing him inside. Jin quickly rushed towards the van. He pulled the man from the goons hold and layed the now almost unconscious man on the road side. This gave the goons time to flee. Jin was about to go after them when Seo Yoon stopped him.

She immediately knelt beside the man. He wasn't drunk. He was badly injured. His abdomen was bleeding and his legs were tampered. She tried helping him.

He groaned as she touched him to treat his wounds. He immediately backed up at an inhuman speed. This shook both of them.

"He's a hybrid oppa. We need to help him. " Seo Yoon said and Jin immediately called Yoongi to keep first aid ready.

The hybrid's cap fell from his face revealing two soft black cat like ears. His tale was brilliantly tucked in his pants not giving anything away that he wasn't human. He immediately tried fleeing from the human who looked at her with her almost teary eyes but he couldn't. He did not have the strength. He collapsed in her arms his world going black as the last thing he saw was the beautiful face of a teary eyed angel who somehow did not look like she wanted to harm him like other humans.

Seo Yoon was almost gonna cry after seeing the hybrid. He fell in her arms. His life almost slipping away. Jin picked him up and they rushed inside the house towards the guest room. Yoongi and the boys had kept all necessary medical aid that they know Seo Yoon kept for emergency on a table nearby. They were as astonished as the duo seeing how badly injured this hybrid was.

"What happened to you" Seo Yoon wondered out loud.

A/N: this is my first hybrid au. I hope you all enjoyed this. Please like comment and reblog if you liked it. I'll post next part soon. Put your name in the comment section below to get tagged in the next part.

#bts hybrid au #bts namjoon #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts army #bts jhope #bts jungkook #bts jin #bts taehyung #bts rm fluff #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts smut #short stories #short story #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #jaehyun

[tybaku]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30691259/chapters/77712440

Midoriya Izuku finds the incarnation of beauty and divinity sitting at a window of a hole-in-the-wall café just a few blocks away from home.

Or: An artist in search of inspiration unexpectedly finds a new muse.

Chapter 2: Him

Bakugou Katsuki finds himself standing at the foot of an altar fit for something more than a god at a quarter to 1.

The day is bright and clear, and the sun is hot on his head and shoulders. It’s too early to be out here, and yet too late, and there was already a thin crowd formed, curled around the centerpiece like a halo, or a crown. Katsuki shifts where he stands, dark eyes never leaving the piece of art on the bricked alleyway wall. He barely breathes.

He had been dragged here not out of his own accord, directly after a nearly two hour long elective class that was nothing but a bore, despite it sounding vaguely interesting down on paper.

“Analysis of Modern Art and Media 101” taught by Aizawa Shouta had been a bust of a class to choose, and each time Katsuki attends he wonders why the hell there is more of the same damn class, judging by the fact there was a 101 tacked on at the end of the name, and also it was probably the most soul-sucking class he was taking this school year. Katsuki doesn’t even care about art!

And yet, he’s still standing here. He’s standing here in a dingy, dirty back alley and gawking up at this piece of artwork like some kind of fool, his hands curling up inside his pockets. There’s a red warmth to his face that isn’t from the afternoon sun, and vaguely he thinks, maybe he could learn to care about art. Maybe he could learn to care because of this and this only.

“It’s me,” Katsuki says, not fully aware of his surroundings, or the murmurs that trickle about the little sea of people in the alleyway that are witnessing the same thing he is.

Because it is him, it’s the best version of him he’s ever laid eyes on. It’s a perception of him so pure and human, and flawless to the point where it’s perfection is debatable, and he has to take another look at it to really see what’s there. He’s wrong, the painting isn’t perfect, but it’s authentic. It isn't flawless, but it’s him, really and truly him; near flesh as it can get with its graffiti lines and colors and shapes.

Katsuki doesn’t want to look away.

Kirishima, the very guy who had brought him out here to view the godly offering on the wall, then pats his shoulder and grips onto him. “It’s you, man. Your mentions are sky high,” he says, eyebrows raised and obviously impressed. He shakes Katsuki a little when he becomes the victim of a dirty looking side-eye, wearing a little frown. “What?”

Katsuki shrugs his shoulder harshly, effectively shooing his friend off. “The hell you on about, shithair,” he says more than he asks. Kaminari’s head then pops up from beside them unexpectedly, with Ashido right on his toes, smiling from ear to ear. There’s a mischievous little glint in their eyes that they share unabashedly, and Katsuki sneers at it.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? You’re trending!” the other, less important blond exclaims, fishing out his phone to wave it around in Katsuki’s face. “Well, more like the art itself trending, but people are recognizing you! Tagging you in the pics on Insta, at’ing you on Twitter, linking you to this one art blog and shit like—” Kaminari only stops when Katsuki starts to bat his hands at him angrily, irritated at the fact he didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kaminari makes an ugly looking face like he took a whiff of something foul, but Katsuki smells sweet as hell, thank you very much; his shampoo and conditioner have black and white charcoal in them. “Dude do you even check your phone like, ever? This”—Kaminari waves giant circles in front of Katsuki’s portrait as Katsuki himself mumbles a quiet I mute that shit during class—“is trending. Trending.”

Before Katsuki could tear one into him, Ashido pats at her friend’s shoulder, squeezing herself into the terrible excuse of a conversation. “I think he gets it, babe. What Denki’s trying to say is that this”—she gestures to the painting—“is gaining a whole lot of traction right now, not only because it’s stunning, but because the artist is literally one of the biggest deals in Japan right now. Deku’s like, hot-hot. He’s practically famous in the modern art scene, and he just painted your portrait without you even knowing about it. Do you really have no idea how huge this is?”

And, no, Katsuki doesn’t know, since there wasn’t even a reason why he would know in the first place (again, that modern art class sucks, and even though Aizawa-sensei was good enough of a teacher, Katsuki sometimes thinks even he didn’t want to be teaching it from the way he talks and lectures so tonelessly, a whole new level of bored flat) so the only thing he can do is blink, and blink, and glare as he tries to take in this new information.

It’s weird, isn’t it? Katsuki has never heard of this “Deku” guy, despite his supposed status, and suddenly he’s got a whole mural dedicated to him by the guy? He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with any of this, and he can’t even bring himself to be angry about it. He’s just confused, out of place, and so damn flattered that it’s absolutely ridiculous. Someone painted his portrait and painted it well. It should feel freaky, because it is; it’s an unfathomable situation, but it doesn’t really feel anything less than nice. Really damn nice.

“Oh my god,” Kaminari gasps suddenly, the back of his hand hitting the top of Ashido’s chest in exaggerated shock and disbelief, “do you guys know what this means?”

Katsuki’s eyes find their way back to himself. His profile is sharp and frustrated. Kirishima gasps, eyes blown wide in anticipation. “What?” he asks Kaminari quickly, ever the little worrywart of their group. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

Kaminari goes smug, a little warp appearing in his dumb smile. “Kats-kun here’s got a not-so-secret admirer,” he sings in a tease, wiggling a little in place.

Despite the weird feeling curling in his chest, Katsuki scoffs at the claim, rolling his eyes. “More like a stalker,” he says, but his so-called friends outright ignore him, and turn their attention to, well, him.

Ashido giggles in delight, clapping her hands. “Oh that’s so true, there’s no way this isn’t a romantic thing! I mean, he even got Kats’ little pouty glare right!” she exclaims loud enough for everyone in the alley to overhear, like an idiot.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, and he swears one of them twitches. “My what,” he says more than asks.

Kaminari decides to take the mic, like a dumbass. “You know that thing you do when you get all frustrated about something and you try to pout, but it looks more like you wanna commit first degree murder or something?”

Katsuki doesn’t have any chance to maim him for the explanation he has unfortunately asked for, because Ashido is shrieking again, grabbing Kaminari and holding him close to her in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you’re so right! This is so romantic!” she draws it out annoyingly, before it becomes a straight up whine. “That’s so unfair! Why are you getting romanced and not me?”

And it’s not his place to say, so “Because Spikey has no balls,” stays trapped in between Katsuki’s grit teeth.

Sero then miraculously appears from somewhere behind Kaminari, a muffin and even Shinsou in tow, and Katsuki groans up to the sky when instead of saying something useful he decides to say, “They got that little beauty mark on his cheekbone too,” with a stupid smirk.

Blinking tiredly, Shinsou adds on “That’s some attention to detail,” like it means anything. “Though they missed most of the other ones.” He starts to unwrap his own muffin, peeling back the thin paper with his teeth. Katsuki wants nothing more than for him to choke on it.

“Hanta! Hitoshi!” Kaminari yells, as if the pair of them weren’t standing barely three feet from him. He reaches over and happily pulls Shinsou under his arm as Sero stalks over to Ashido. “Where you’ve been! You missed the big reaction!”

Sero lifts his hand. “Getting a muffin,” he says flatly.

Shinsou nods in agreement, humming in amusement. “Bet he blushed like a flower.” He takes a bite out of his muffin as Kaminari laughs and jokingly goes to bite at the bread.

And if Katsuki goes a little warm in the face at the dumb claim, it’s no one’s damn business. “What the hell does that even mean,” he snarls unkindly, crossing his arms.

Shinsou unwraps the other side of his muffin with his hands this time, and actually allows Kaminari to take a small bite. “I said what I said,” he shrugs, unapologetic.

“Oo, new slur dropped.” Ashido wiggles her pink eyebrows. Sero snorts, and Kirishima laughs amiably at her.

Katsuki has terrible friends, he decides, and they all can go burn in the under. He shoots them all a heavy glare they all ignore in favor of oohing and ahhing at his portrait. Shinsou looks over at him after a quick inspection of the piece. “So,” he starts, giving up the rest of his muffin to Kaminari’s grubby little hands, “what’re you gonna do?”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, expression and stance slanted slightly to the right as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocked out his hip, leaning most of his weight onto one foot. “Hah? The hell you talking about?”

Shinsou blinks plainly at him. “The graffiti, genius. You think it’s weird, right? Figured you want to beat the guy’s face in for painting you without permission, or something.”

Katsuki frowns. Shinsou isn’t wrong really, or at least he shouldn’t be, but Katsuki doesn’t feel like violence was the answer here. (A shocker, he knows, but can you blame him? It’s like wanting to punish the Earth for rotating, or the sun for setting at the end of the day. Punishing the moon for moving the tides, and many other metaphors Katsuki can’t think of at the moment.)

He doesn’t want to go about this the wrong way. Beating his admirer’s (damn it, he means artist, thanks a lot Pinky ‘n Sparky) face into a pulp is definitely the worst approach he could possibly take. There ought to be a better, and much more appropriate option, shouldn’t there? What exactly should be done in this instance? What could he do?

There’s only one thing, really.

“I’m gonna find him.”

—

It’s easier said than done in a weird way, tracking down Deku. He really is a popular and well-known young artist, and his art is plastered practically all over every social media you can think of. He’s got his fair share of admirers and haters, and critiques of his more professional work (he’s not just a street artist like Katsuki had first assumed a few days ago, he’s actually got even better pieces than Katsuki’s portrait, if you can believe it) range from big art magazines to small internet influencers. There’s all kinds of stuff about his artwork, including videos and articles.

Deku’s work speaks to all kinds of people, he finds out.

Though unfortunately, there isn’t any public information about the artist himself. In fact, Deku is a pseudonym, and there is virtually no personal information pertaining to him anywhere. His identity is kept closely underwraps, and any interviews with him are all written word (Katsuki knows this because he has scoured all of Youtube trying to find a video with Deku, and has come up empty handed). Katsuki has absolutely no method of contacting him about the alleyway art, and no way of finding him about town.

Pushing his laptop away an inch, Katsuki sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. He’s hit yet another dead end on this art blog in his search for Deku’s damn contact information. It’s terribly frustrating at this point, because he’s so close it’s ridiculous. He’s pretty sure he’s figured out who Deku actually is: Midoriya Izuku, a journalist who looks to be based here in Musutafu, and the guy whose blog Katsuki’s been snooping through for the past three days.

The guy’s got a plethora of articles and photography on a number of different artists, but according to the internet, he’s more known to be a Deku enthusiast, and most of his material stems from Deku’s artwork. In fact, he’s already got an article up about Katsuki’s portrait, dated three days ago. That was the first giveaway.

If you look through Deku’s official Instagram, Katsuki’s portrait (titled Musutafu Delight, after the side of the café it was painted on, but Katsuki ain’t gonna call it anything else but his portrait) was posted bright and early at 7 in the morning three days ago, and Midoriya’s article on The Canvas about said portrait was posted not ten minutes later. Awfully speedy for someone who is allegedly not even the artist of the piece, no?

And if you read through Midoriya’s blog and Deku’s written interviews, the connection between them becomes even more glaringly obvious due to the fact Midoriya writes his articles similarly to the way Deku does in his interviews, so much so that it couldn’t possibly be counted as a mere coincidence. Their wording and phrasing of things is near exact, and their pools of vocabulary are closely shared.

Plus, you’d have to be an idiot to not see where the artist’s pseudonym comes from.

“Deku can be derived from the same kanji as Izuku. It’s literally the same,” Katsuki had explained to his stupidly incredulous group of friends, who dismissed his “theory” on Deku’s true identity like the bunch of morons they were. The only one who seemed even halfway convinced was Sleepy, and even then he just looked amused at Katsuki’s frustration trying to map out what he was talking about to the rest of the group in his overly simple terms.

Anyway, Katsuki had little to no doubt about Deku’s real identity, but that didn’t exactly mean it made finding the guy any easier. Seriously, what kind of a dimwit doesn’t even put down their email on their own goddamn blog?

Deku, apparently.

Katsuki sighs once more before sipping what was left of his coffee and exiting out of Midoriya’s blog with a dull click. Without any other clear leads, there wasn’t much he could do in regards to finding the guy, and he rather not run himself ragged trying to do so all at once. He could always chase his tail looking for Deku later, since he wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway. Such a damn shame.

Unexpectedly a throat clears, and Katsuki looks up halfway prepared to throw a scowl at Kirishima’s stupid little smile (Katsuki told him specifically not to bother him today since he had so much shit to get done, which may or may not have been an excuse to keep on internet “stalking” Deku, as Sparky and Sleepy so eloquently put it), but finds a completely different stupid little smile he doesn’t recognize by a long shot.

It’s a guy with a scatter of freckles all over his face and green highlights in his curly black hair. He has big round eyes and a healthy pink glow to his cheeks. In short, he’s cute, but he carries himself like a wounded animal, a shy and skittish little thing. He looks like a big dork in his glasses and sweater splattered with paint at the hem.

“Hi,” the dork says in a sort of sigh filled to the brim with nerves as his fingertips flinch around the little ringed book he carries in his hands.

Katsuki quickly fits a frown onto his face, intentionally standoffish to lure this four-eyed man away. Somehow, it doesn’t work, and instead of being deterred by the attitude he was putting on, the man sits himself down in the empty seat in front of him, a wobbled smile on his lips. Katsuki narrows his eyes slightly, annoyed but impressed by the gall of the nerdy looking guy.

“Uh, my name is M-Midoriya Izuku, I’m a full time artist and journalist and”—the guy shifts in his seat and lets out a huge huff—“wow, you are super pretty up close.”

Katsuki blinks, and promptly blushes like a flower. (Thanks for that, Sleepy.) He didn’t take Deku for the bold type.

“I, um. That’s not what I—Well, yeah I did mean that, you are very pretty—uh, handsome, but that’s not what I—”

Scratch that, Deku definitely wasn’t the bold type, just the “doesn’t think before speaking” type. Fortunately, Katsuki was well acquainted with those types (i.e. his friends), so he doesn’t find it as annoying as he would've. Plus, Deku wasn’t saying anything bad, he was complimenting him.

“You’re fine,” Katsuki has to cut him off from his quick paced rambling. Every word had sounded like it was stuffed into the last, jumbled and nearly indecipherable.

“You’re Deku, right? I got your message,” he smirks in a tease as he leans back casually. Spikey and Pinky were going to freak when Katsuki told them he found Deku, and Sparky was going to eat his words. (Midoriya isn’t Deku, his ass. All the clues were right there. In plain sight.)

Deku stops, and then color bursts into his face. “How did you…” he drifts off, speechless for the first time since he sat down. Katsuki raises his brows and then holds up a finger in a hold on gesture, clicking his laptop awake and opening up his history tab. He turns the screen so Deku can see all the websites he’s visited in the past three days.

At a glance, it’s obvious everything is related to Deku and his artwork, but Deku’s lips downturn in confusion and Katsuki has to explain. “It’s research. Was trying to find the dork who painted my face on the side of the café,” he says as Deku gives a little squeak. Katsuki clicks the most recent tab and opens up The Canvas, aka Deku’s blog.

“You said your name was Midoriya Izuku? Full time artist and journalist? Izuku can be read as Deku, meaning either you are Deku, you work with Deku, or you’re some freak obsessed with Deku. Your pick,” Katsuki finishes before turning his laptop back toward him and clicking it to sleep.

Deku only gapes at him, eyes wide and shining in something Katsuki could only describe as awe. “You’re amazing,” he says in a certain way that entails he was talking before thinking again, and weirdly enough, Katsuki feels an unexpected warmth in his chest because of it.

“Bakugou Katsuki, by the way. And I ain’t a snitch. It’s obvious you wanna keep your identity a secret. Just knowing I’m right is enough. Did’ya want something from me, Freckles?” Katsuki lolls his head to the side, staring Deku down and ignoring the tingling in his hands.

Deku startles slightly, one step behind and still mouthing Bakugou under his breath like he was trying to familiarize himself with it. Weird, but cute in a way. Deku shifts around in his seat, fiddling around with his fingers in his lap. “Oh well, um. It’s nice to meet you, Bakugou-san, and I, uh…actually had a proposition for you?”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose, but nods at him to continue.

Deku gives him a shy little smile, one that crinkles the tiny freckle above his top lip. “Would you like to model for me?”

#bnha #bkdk #ty.types

[damfinofanfiction]

Chapter 14: Hollywood or Bust...er.

Here’s the full and a update to the latest chapter! Just to let you know, having outlined the story for a while, things will get romantic in chapter 16 and will get naughty in chapter 20!!! I don't know if Chapter 14′s good enough but I did my best. Enjoy!

Another note is at the end of the chapter.

As stated in the article of a Local Paper; Five people hurt in a car crash. Two women and three men were involved in a low-rate car crash when they were driving from the Biltmore Hotel for the party in honor of Mack Sennett. There were no fatalities but there were some minor bruises and concussions. Ralph F. Staub, the driver of a T- Ford who suffered a broken nose, blamed the incident on bit player and former Sennett Bathing Beauty Gayle Anders for distracted driving. As a result of the impact, Miss Anders was reported to have injured her arm. While the others had slightly recovered and have been sent home, Anders will be on the mend for weeks following a release from the Good Samaritan Hospital this morning. Her recent project is Harold Lloyd’s upcoming film, The Freshman, due to be out this September. She remains hopeful to be back in the movies after her arm is fully recovered.

Having read this in his office, Buster shook his head in pity, with a notion that she might be unable to work with him. “Oh, Gail.”

**************************

Just as the evening began, Sally ran out of the Bungalow with the burning Trout on the casserole dish. Gail aired out the smoke by opening the windows. As a last resort, she threw the fish from the dish on the ground and used the gravel dug from the area to extinguish the small flames.

“Damn it,” Sally said examining the crisp charred remains after putting it out. She turned to her friend, “Sorry Bae, guess I underestimated the baking time.”

Gail added disappointedly, "And it was a nice fish."

Since Gail came home from the hospital, it wasn’t easy for her to live with a broken humerus. Sally offered to help on the days it doesn’t intervene with her job. Not only the blonde did it out of loyalty but also as a amend to what happened last month.

Upon going inside, Sally threw away the ruined casserole dish and comforted Gail who hunched in despair, “Buck up, We’ll still have dinner. If only Auntie isn’t out playing bridge and Bertha didn’t take a day off.” Bertha, that she referred to was her and Lenore’s Maid.

When the Friends decided on take-out, Sally left to pick up the food while Gail stayed behind because she didn't feel comfortable going out in her state. As the table was already set in advance, the dark-haired woman was left to retreat to her couch and wrapped herself in a blanket because she felt a breeze from the open window.

Gail wasn't feeling herself after the accident in the past week. It was like grief. She barely slept the night, has a small appetite, doesn't smile much, and doesn't say much. Although she has endured a series of unfortunate events for the last few months, breaking her arm was difficult to cope with. Gail tried to sob and cry to let it out of her system, but couldn't do it. That didn't stop her from trying again while she was alone.

Her attempts to release her emotions were interrupted when she noticed a shadow passing by from the front window, "Sal?" she called.

A male baritone voice replied, “Close enough.”

She sat up straight when he swayed to the window, revealing his familiar face, “Buster!”

He chuckled while resting his arms on the windowsill, “Good seeing you too. You seem well.”

Gail would ask him how did he found her site but remembered she had sent him an updated resume with a change of address recently. She nervously said, "I didn't expect you to show up."

He sighed, “I know, I should have told you I was coming, but work was finished early and I thought you could go for a surprise.” Gail found it funny that the last time she had seen him was when he rode with her so she could get home safely and now he was at her window unannounced. He asked, “So are you going to let me in or should I climb through the window?”

“Oh!” She hastily sat up and opened the door and let Keaton in to avoid being mistaken for a break-in if he had entered through the window. After having received flowers and get-well cards from friends and family, she was grateful for a visitor. When she opened the door, he was wearing a hazel suit with a white buttoned shirt underneath and a grey flat cap. He coughed in response to the smoke when he was in a kitchen area.

“Sorry, Sally burnt our dinner.” She explained while closing the door and the window curtains, “She had doused the fire out on the yard.”

“That explains the black mark out on the yard,” he pulled out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket to cover his mouth.

Gail retreated to her bedroom where she traded the blanket for her light blue buttoned sweater while Buster looked around. She called to him, “I guess you must have read about the accident in the papers?”

He responded, “Yes, though they didn’t get your name right.”

Gail intended to write a note to Buster about what happened to her but didn’t have any idea what to say as evidence of the trash bin full of the crumpled-up papers by her bed. “Well, the reporter was in a rush and didn’t have time to correct my name anyhow.”

Then Gail checked herself in the mirror. Her sleeveless day dress was alright. The curls on her locks were uneven, but she didn't mind because he had seen her unkempt hair on the train. Her makeup wasn’t too bad either, grateful that Sally had helped her earlier that day, otherwise, she couldn't do it with one arm. She only reapplied her lipstick before returning to the comedian.

“So this must be your new home,” Buster said as he sat on the armchair while she returned to her couch.

“I came across it in a newspaper. I found the name of the street familiar because I used to go around looking for a part in the pictures.”

“Had the others moved here as well?” he asked.

“No, just me. Sally’s only a helper. She tried her best and I’m grateful for that." Gail turned to the door, “Now I'm worried how she'll react to you once she gets back.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

She leaned towards him, “No no no, unless you have to go home.”

“No, I could stay for a bit at least before your other friend arrives.” it was then Gail noticed that her sling and cast were exposed from her opened sweater and tugged it back in due to her insecurity. From the look on Buster's face, it was obvious he had seen it before, no doubt from peeping at her while she was in the other room, “How long until your arm gets better?”

She was nervous to tell him but does so anyway, “If healed properly, the cast will be removed in a month. I may still wear a sling in addition to physical therapy."

“I’m awfully sorry that happened to you. At least it isn't the ankle.”

“Oh yeah, it happened to you.” Gail had almost forgotten of his injury some years ago before he brought it up.

“How could I forget?” He rested his foot to his knee to massage that very ankle, “There’s a scene from The Electric House where I ran on the moving staircase. That one step caught my slap shoe and before the stagehands could turn off the switch, my foot was dragged to the top, and the next thing I knew, my ankle was fractured.”

“That’s sounded awful,” Her voice was sympathetic.

“Yes, it was. I thought I was going to lose my foot, but thankfully I haven’t. Had to be out of commission for several weeks. They put me on bed rest, at least you can still move around. So anyway, long after my ankle is healed, we threw out the footage and started over.”

“When do you start filming?” What Gail knew from what he wrote to her weeks ago was that the production of Battling Butler was delayed until the end of the year and will be making an original story instead. Also, he’ll be working with a cow to which she thought was too ridiculous, if it wasn't a western.

He explained, “When we find a location for shooting and get everything ready, hopefully in June.”

Gail felt relieved, “Then, do I have a chance to be your co-star?”

He uncrossed his legs, “Well, About that.” Seeing his sullen look, Gail’s heart began to sink as it might be another case of the bad news.

It seemed he couldn’t find the words when he told her, “My boss Joe didn’t want me to hire you.” He sighed, “And he recommended me an actress from Dick Turpin, Kathleen Myers.” He assured her after she turned her face away from him, “It had nothing to do with your injury. It’s just that he preferred someone with experience as a leading lady.”

Gail felt sadness welling up in her throat and clenched her fist, “No, It’s definitely something to do with my arm!” She attempted to retreat to her bedroom, but being blinded by her tears caused her to collapse to her knees, and then she wept heavily. Her sobs made it impossible for her to hear Buster come up to her before he aided her to the dining table. She exclaimed, not making eye contact with the stone face, “I knew it, I knew it! I should’ve left home years ago, but I waited and waited for a chance to take me away like a chump I am!”

“You’re not a chump!”

“You don’t know that! I promised myself I would work with you, but I failed!” There were whimpers in her voice, “I couldn’t get cast in a cast!”

Keaton defended her, “It was only an accident.”

A teardrop ran across her cheek, “Which should I have prevented! This wouldn’t have happened if I was more careful.”

Her body shook as she cried again. Initially, Gail expected Buster to leave her to mourn, then she felt his hand rub on her back, then his arm wrapped around her, enabling her to huddle in for an embrace. With a scent of his cologne coming from between his shoulder and neck, her sobs became softer before they’re diminished. He patted her back a bit. She heard him say, “Gail, I wanted to work with you, I really have. Things aren’t always simple in Hollywood.”

She faced him again. He gave her his handkerchief when she began to rub her eyes. He brought her a glass of water from the dining table which he just filled up.

“Look at me”, he continued, “It took me three years in the film business before I started leading and directing comedies. How long you’ve been working on screen?”

She answered, “A year and a half.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” he placed his hand onto her cheek. “I’m sure things will turn out alright as soon as your arm heals. There’s still hope for us to work together once Schenck sees what you can do.”

With a sniff, she added, “And there’s still Battling Butler.”

“Yup that too.” he gave her a slight grin.

As she finished wiping her tears, Gail noticed the black smudges on his handkerchief “Have I messed up my makeup?” He responded with another nod. “Excuse me”, she got up to the countertop and brought out the bottle of olive oil, a remedy for running mascara.

He told her with the cloth in his hand,  “Allow me”

He added a dab of oil to his handkerchief and rubbed it onto her cheeks until they were clear.

“I might have unraveled your hair.” She pointed to the wavy part of his hair “Probably right there” she rose her right hand by his forehead, having her twirl the curl with her finger, “Perfect.” she said after stopping. Their eyes were fixated on each other. It was like that until they heard the key going in followed by the doorknob turning, the two then raced back to their respective seats.

Sally announced while opening the door and holding the big brown bag, “Hey Bae, took me longer to reach that take-out place, better to chow down while the food’s still hot.”

Gail was in her upright posture like nothing had happened, “Sal there’s a visitor.”

The blonde turned to Keaton who had just finished combing his hair, “Oh, shi-” She exclaimed, almost dropping the contents of the bag. Gail stood up to explain that the visit was a surprise to her as well and they were just talking in a professional matter. Buster also got up just to notify them he had to get home since it was almost six o'clock.

he turned to Gail, “One thing before I go, have you seen The Iron Mule?”

“No”

“My pal Roscoe actually directed it with a different name. It features someone I worked with back in the day and also watch out for that Indian.” he pointed to her, “You might find him familiar.”

she smiled, “Thank you for the visit.”

When he turned the doorknob and opened the door she just remembered something, "Wait!," She pulled out a notepad from the side table, wrote down her phone number, and tore it out to hand to Keaton. “No surprise visits next time. Okay?”

Buster nodded once, “Take care” he put on his hat and left her home as she waved.

Sally shrugged at her friend, “How the hell did he know where you live?”

She helped her unpack the take-out containers from the bag, “I’ll tell you over dinner and you owe me a dish.”

Gail was herself again, though embarrassed that she vented her emotions to her favorite comedian. What made her feel better wasn't the crying, but finding comfort in the object of her affection.

(sorry, I posted to my other account. I deleted it though.)

Note: I have to thank @trainrideswithbuster for giving me the idea that buster visits Gail while on the mend!

#buster keaton fanfiction #buster #Buster Keaton #busterkeaton #buster fic #buster keaton fandom #actor RPF #silent comedy

[astras-world]

WHAT MAKES IT WORTH IT CHAPTER IV- AVOID.

Warnings:Swearing, small fight scene

Thanks for everyone who sent in suggestions from the prompt list!

You weren't sure how you were going to do this. How you were going to avoid having these secret moments with Tom so abruptly but you knew it had to happen.

This was getting you nowhere, your feelings would eventually get in the way of work and truth be told you still needed this job.

So you started small, like pulling your hand away when he grabs it or sitting next to anyone else except for him. You started to ask Harrison to wake Tom up early in the morning to get him to taping and he reluctantly obliged telling you that confronting Tom about your feelings would be more helpful and solve all your problems.

But it wasn't that easy, nothing with Tom was even as kids he would disagree with you and do the exact opposite of what you wanted to do, he was a pain in the ass.

Now is a whole other world of problems starting with how to detach yourself from him in any form possible, the first step to erasing your feelings for him.... Maybe.

Truth be told you had no idea how to do it or if it will even work cause you knew you were already in too deep, getting rid of your feelings for him seemed impossible.

You've been successful so far and so far meaning a couple of days and you weren't sure how much longer you can keep it up.

You missed him, everything about him. The way his hands felt against your skin, his soft lips pressing small kisses on random parts of your body, his body enveloping yours in his completely. You missed the comfort, you missed his laugh to the point that every chuckle physically pained you.

It hurted more everyday that passed, it made you want to run into his arms and stay there forever. But that wasn't possible you kept telling yourself everytime the thought came into your mind which happened way too often

You weren't sure if he noticed, if he did it didn't matter, he wasn't making much of an effort anyway.

But Tom did notice. He noticed the way your hand would slip away from his evertime he tried. He noticed how you didn't sat next to him anymore. How you made excuses to not join him for his naps, how you made Harrison wake him up Every morning instead of going yourself. He noticed how you would pull away from him when he started to get close

He figured that maybe you were mad at him or something so he gave you space thinking that in a couple of days everything would go back to normal. He hoped it will.

He missed you, more than he'd ever admit to himself. He missed running his fingers through your hair everytime you got a headache, he missed holding your hand and the comfort you provided, he missed the way you would fit into him so perfectly when he'd hold you as the both of you were sleeping, he missed your voice telling him off, your laugh, everything. It was almost painful.

But days turned to weeks and those weeks turned into a month, it was taking a toll on the both of you it was evident on the bags unde. your eyes and your forced smiles.

Tom didn't understand why you were acting the way that you were, it was starting to not matter at all. He just wanted his best girl back.

Tonight you were out clubbing with the rest of the gang, you needed to get drunk and Tom had a plan to talk to you.

So after entering the club you immediately went to the bar and ordered your favorite drink hoping to get drunk by the end of the night.

Your wishes came true cause nearing the end of the night you were drunk and dancing with strangers.

One particular stranger caught your eye, he was tall and had charming brown eyes and in your drunken state it was enough to get you giggling like a school girl.

Tom however wasnt in the mood for a drink and he kept an eye on you all night long, keeping an eye on the man that spoke to you at the bar.

Noticing his hand on your waist and the way you smiled up at him, he could almost hear your laugh if it weren't for the music blasting through the speakers surrounding the area.

He let you do your thing, let you get drunk, let you hang around this guy but that didn't stop the sinking feeling in his chest. It didn't stop him from clenching his jaw and his hand curl up into a fist.

Harrison noticed of course. Tom was never one to turn down a drink or a good time and so he followed his line of sight and there you were, flirting with a handsome stranger.

He had to laugh, you were both idiots who kept denying the way you felt about one another.

'She seems to be having a good time" Haz says nudging tom a little

"Mmm" Tom hummed in agreement.

"why aren't you?" Haz says turning to Tom

"What are you talking about? I am having a good time" Tom denies.

"uh huh, that shit doesn't work on me." Haz gives him a look.

"nothing, I just- I want my girl back." Tom says sighing

"She's not yours though, is she?" Haz says cautiously

"No she's- not in that way. You know what I mean" Tom stutters out.

"Yeah I know exactly what you mean. Why don't you make her yours?" Haz asks.

"We're not like that, man. Besides she deserves someone better" Tom says shaking his head.

"Someone better? What kind of better?" Haz asks outraged

"you know, someone stable. Someone who's not everywhere every time." Tom says.

"Mate she travels with you everywhere" Haz says flatly.

"yeah but that isn't what she wants now is it? She likes to settle down. She likes to stay at home, she's adventurous sure, but my kind of adventures aren't for her." Tom says.

"That doesn't even make any sense" Haz says and Tom sighs.

"Listen, Me and y/n, we're not like that. We can't" Tom says with finality

Harrison was about to respond when they heard a squeal very much like yours and they both turn their heads to where the sound came from

There they found you trying (and failing) to push the man away from you. Who was clearly trying to make a move

Tom's blood immediately boiled at the sight. Almost like blacking out he was suddenly punching the guy away from you.

"What the fuck, man?" the unknown guy said wiping blood off his face

"Thomas!" you shouted at the same time in shock immediately holding him back.

"She said no, man." Tom said menacingly.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business?" The man said pushing tom provoking him further

"She is my business now back the fuck off will you?" Tom said lowly.

The man was about to throw another punch at Tom when Harrison interviened

"I wouldn't do that if I were you or would you rather face a billion dollar lawsuit for damaging Marvel's golden boy?" Haz said clicking his tounge tilting his head slightly.

The man left with an angry huff leaving you with Tom and Haz.

"Take her home, Tom" Haz then turned to you "And you little miss, are in a lot of trouble." pointing his finger at you a smirk playing on his lips.

Tom dragged you away after an exchange of goodbyes with your other friends keeping a tight arm on you as he goes along making sure you stayed by his side.

You on the other hand was still pretty out of it, just sober enough to understand what happened.

Tom led you to the car and you sat in silence for a while, you all too willing to keep ignoring him. If you break now you don't know what would happen.

"So that's it? You'll keep ignoring and avoiding me and think that I don't notice?" Tom said breaking his silence.

"I'm not avoiding you nor am I ignoring you." You said trying to keep your voice.

"I thought the saying went 'drunk people say sober thoughts" Tom said raising his eyebrow at you

"I'm sober" you said defensively

"You were drinking like a damn fish" Tom said flatly

"I may have had a couple shots." you say pouting

"Uh huh, that's what I thought." Tom says humorously.

"Why are you like this? What did I do?" Tom

"You didn't do anything."You shrugged

"Then why are you mad at me?" Tom said defeatedly.

"I'm not mad at anyone" you said blankly.

"Well why are you acting like this, then?" Tom asks

"Acting like what?" You ask brows furrowed.

"Acting like, like,, not like you!" Tom says.

"And when did you become an expert on who I am?" you ask incredulously

"You can't possibly think you're the only one who picks up on habits, who cares enough to notoce anything?" Tom ask rhetorically but you answer anyway.

"Yes. I do. And if anyone else were to, they wouldn't be you." You say.

"and why is that?" Tom asks

"The only person you care about is yourself." Ypu say, immediately wanting to take it all back.

"That's bullshit and you know it." Tom says hotly.

It was. You knew it was. You knew he cared more than he'd ever let on. You knew he cares too much sometimes. He always cared.

But you stayed silent anyways. You were persistent on staying like this. You didn't have it in you to find out what would happen if partially drunk you started talking about what's wrong.

So the drive continued silently. You didn't notice falling asleep but the next thing you knew you were being carried up.

You felt the familiar warmth wrapping around you and you immediately relax, you missed this, everything about it and now here you were back in his arms like and you didn't know how the hell you could ever pry yourself away from him ever again.

So you open your eyes slightly still half asleep.

I love you.

You wanted to say. You wanted him to know. You wanted to just tell him right there.

But you didn't..

"you have, the most beautiful eyes, Tommy." you muttered so quietly it was a miracle he heard you.

"Really, love? I thought they're quite boring?" Tom said humorously reminding you of a moment where you told him that his eyes were indeed boring

You and Tom were only starting to get along, today you had to help him with his lines, Tom always had a hard time reading his lines but he did great remembering it, his dyslexia has been getting difficult especially being mixed with stress and time zone changes, so he needed extra help studying his lines.

The scene you were reading was between him and Zendaya, a scene where they take off swinging in the city and the dialogue starts once they land

"Oh my god I am never doing that again" you said acting as though you were breathless

"It was fun! Sorry, did I freak you out?" he said acting happy then immediately switched to concernedYou lift your eyes from the script meeting his eyes feeling yourself slowly drifting deeper into his chocolate colored eyes.

"No, I just uhm.. I-" you stutter forgetting the lines immediately looking back down on your script and blushing

"Getting lost in my eyes, love?" He says teasingly a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Oh please Thomas, who would get lost in your eyes?" you scoff bot allowing yourself to get caught.

"You apparently." Tom chuckles and you scoff

"How could I? You have the most boring, standard eyes anyones ever had" You say rolling your eyes"

whatever you say, darlin'."

"Hmm, I lied" you hum.

"I know darling, I saw you blush." Tom says laughing "Nothing wrong in thinking I'm attractive, love" he shrugs a smile playing on his lips as he lays you down on the bed Taking off your shoes and crouched on the floor near you brushing hair away from your face.

"There is when you don't think the same." you mumbled.

"Now who said I don't find you attractive?" Tom chuckles

"I did." You sneered sleepily.

"Now that's just ridiculous, love. I think you're gorgeous." Tom said softly, seriously, admiration clear in his voice

You opened you eyes only to meet his and your gazes lock on each other.

"Can I tell you a secret, love?" Tom asks

"Anything." you answer right away.

"I really want to kiss you right now." Tom says brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"then kiss me." You said seriously your eyes still locked on each other.

"If I kiss you right now, I won't be able to stop." Tom said his lips inches away from you.

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