#though we all understand he will mess up the pronouns and its ok

[dayslynthesix]

after spain and monaco (and now fucking azerbaijan) I'm feeling a little bit dawn these days, and as someone who watch and support a lot of volleyball teams, i thought it would be incredible to match those two worlds

the prompt is pretty simple and I'm keeping it with charles, because c'mon, the man has been fighting his teammate, he's team, max, everything and everyone so the reader is a volleyball player, team captain of her team and the past seasons hasn't been great to her or her team so she knows what it feels to loose like that and after the awful strategy back at his home race, the reader says a couple of things she learned from the pro life of an athlete

a/n: this is just fictional, i wish things that are here were true but unfortunately the earth don't circle around me, just to clear a couple of things, this is not the first time i write something, but it's quite different to write in a clear pov and replace the clear pov to a y/n one, i keep just the y/n, choosing to give the last name (bishop), sorry about the spelling mistakes, english it's not my first language

charles leclerc x reader

pronouns: she/her/hers

Losing is part of the process | Charles Leclerc imagine

Monaco, 2022

it was late that night, the weather was warm but not suffocating, charles was back at his home after the race and press conference, he knew y/n was coming home, to him, after her night practice, they spoke briefly after the race and then he has to left to the interviews and she has to left to the gym, even though her season were already over. the knock on the door was soft, as everything was with her, y/n was a soft person, she knows exactly what to say to make people feel better, and as soon charles open the door she was holding him against her.

"im so sorry, bae..." she said in a calm voice, she knew he didn't wanted pity and even better, she knew how upset he was

"as i said, im getting used to coming back home disappointed after the race."

"you know its not your fault, right? you can't do everything alone, that why you have a whole team with you, they failed with you today, not the other way."

"yeah... they had failed a lot these days, i just can't understand why things keep going the wrong way, its so frustrating"

"i know, my love, i know, why don't we go to the living room so i can take a shower and then we can talk about it?"

"ok, i was waiting for you anyway" he gives you a soft kiss and went back to the couch, you could see the tv lights but there was no sound. you went for a quick shower and came back, charles was sitting on the floor, his back resting on the couch, you sit next to him and he immediately rested his head in your shoulder.

"do you remember last year season? we started winning every team, we barely lost a set?" he make a small sound just for you to know he knew about what you're talking about "and then, we lost, every game, we were hoping to others teams lose so we keep the lower half of the score, our opposite wasn't in the perfect connection with our setter, there was injuries, i was feeling my left knee... everything that could possibly go wrong was happening."

"yeah, i remember, you even considered moving to turkey or beach volley."

"yup, that's right. but out of the blue, we went to the kill-kill, and then the quarter finals, the semifinals, the final and when we thought it was over we won. it wasn't easy, but as a team we went against oir odds and make it."

"but that's because you're the best team captain in the world." he said and kissed you cheek

"that's not about me, its about team spirit, your team is letting you and carlos down, i know you're frustrated, pole position in spain and motor fail, pole position again here and they messed up the strategy. all I'm trying to say it is that tomorrow is a new day, there's a lot of new mountains for you to climb, but you're not alone, you know? im here with you, we lost and we win, its part of every sport."

"i know, i just want to feel the sadness for today, tomorrow its gonna be different."

Azerbaijan, 2022

charles didn't make a good start, perez was p1 before the first corner, then max take his p2, but a chaotic pit stop put him back in p1, everything was fine, until carlos hydraulic problem and until his car died, another motor fail, same one as spain. charles went back to the paddock, the first person he saw after the crew was y/n, she was wearing the ferrari merch, the red jerseys with his number on back, she was waiting for him. during summer break, every summer ever since they started dating she was with the team, watching every race, cheering him and all his friends, y/n was a sunlight at the ferrari garage.

"oh, love, im so so so sorry, i was hoping for the best"

"three times in a row, i think it should have an award for that" charles tried to make a joke, but you knew, you could feel the sadness and disappointment, "let me see mattia and carlos, I'll he right back"

after a quick talk to the chief, charles and carlos went back to where y/n was, she was still watching the race, way too concentrated. red bull went first and second, russell was p3, and considering george and charles were friends, y/n was really happy for him.

"carlitos, so sorry." y/n hugged carlos briefly and give him a soft smile

"thank you, y/n, next week is another week." carlos said and went to his room, awful day to be a ferrari driver and fan, charles needed to give a couple of interviews and as long as y/n was always walking around she take a time to congratulate the boys she was friends with, she saw lando first, he was with daniel, then lewis and george and finally pierre, the run into each other and y/n was shining in happiness for her boyfriend best friend and hers faithful horseman.

"pierre, I'm so happy for you, you deserved that"

"thank you, mini you, it was a great race, feels like i know what I'm doing again, im relieved. where my other half?"

"charles? interviews, were leading back to the hotel"

"tell him as soon as I leave here I'll go say hi. need to go, see ya" pierre kissed your temple and went to the alpha tauri motorhome and you lead back to the ferrari garage, charles was already back on his normal clothes.

"lets go?"

"yup, im ready, gasly said that he'll stop to say hi after the post racing"

you and charles walk to his car, it was parked close to a few journalists and photographers, you knew a couple of them and wave, charles give them a polite smile

"thank you for being here today, and last week, and next one..." he give you a soft kiss, the journalists went bananas with the public demonstration of affection, you and charles didn't hide your relationship, but you make it private, after his past relationships and people being around because the fame and the money, both of you deserves the privacy, none of the reporters went to you, or him, they just take a couple of pictures and focus on another thing to do.

"im your girl, leclerc, im always gonna be here, winning or losing"

"and she look really good in red", daniel show up out of nowhere, he shaked charles hand and leave before charles could hit him, daniel was a couple of meters away, but you could hear him laugh, "sorry, mate"

"keep dreaming, ricciardo, she's still my girl", he said and both of you got into the car, leading back to the hotel room.

while y/n was taking a shower, charles opened his Instagram account just to see two of yours posts, one was congratulating george, lewis and pierre and another one was just about him.

y/nbishop9

y/nbishop9 we do the best we can with the best we have, you did the best you could with the best it was given to you, it wasn't the result we wanted, but im really proud of the driver you are, even with all the adversity you keep loyal to yourself, we win and we lost together, we celebrate and we jump into next one together. im with you no matter what. remember, we swallow a lot of water, but there's a surface closer then we think. love you.

charles got himself thinking about the beginning of their relationship, they start dating in the middle of an awful season for y/n and her team, they went to every final and lost every single one, they lost a couple of athletes and she was nearly replaced as team captain, the next season all was working out, they were winning, good athletes, the team manager was happy, and a bad luck wave got them, but they "swallowed a lot of water but reached the surface again", in y/n's words, and that was solely one of the best things he learned with her, and they win, everything, all the championships, he saw the worst of her performance and the best, she went all for the finals, all the championships, y/n and her team were unstoppable.

y/n went back to him in the bed, getting cozy using his body as a pillow, despite the hot weather in Baku, her hands were cold and she let him know really well by putting her cold hands in his warm chest.

"ahh, mon amour, your hands are freezing"

" i know, but your all warm and its the best way to warm them" she smile at him

"i already said that i love you today?" she made that cute face when she's thinking

"no, not today"

"i love you, a lot, and thank you for being here with me, not just here today, but here everyday"

"can i drive your car now?"

"nice try, but it's still a no" he laughed the first time after the race, a genuine one

"c'mon, pierre was the one who taught me how to drive, do you honestly think that I'm a bad driver?" charles always forgot that pierres mom and y/n mom went to school together

"i know you're an expert, amazing, truly incredible driver, but im not risking losing my seat at ferrari, and thats whats gonna happen if they see you driving" charles gives you a quick nose kiss

"fine fine, I'll ask lewis, or lando? which one of them is shorter?"

"i think its lando"

"then lando it is, can we watch fast and furious now?"

"yes, we can"

y/n never walked away, he knew that and the strength she had inside of that 1,67m body was making him fight for being better. tomorrow it's a new day, a better day, he can lose today, tomorrow and next week, but he's doing the best he can with the best he's receiving.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #formula one #formula one imagine #formula 1

[autumn-in-phandom]

After putting off writing an email for a month I finally told my old conservative father about my kid’s gender identity and preferred pronouns over the phone. He sounded a bit teary at the beginning, but I rambled on long enough that he was composed and compassionate when he said that they (and we) have his complete support. 🥺

#this had to happen as they are going down to fl for spring break next week without me #and my mom sister and nephew already know #it wasn’t fair to keep him in the dark #though we all understand he will mess up the pronouns and its ok #he isn’t even a boomer #he’s one of the last of ‘the great generation’ #i came out to him as a teenager thankfully that was harder for us both than this #i’m sure he’ll say an extra prayer #but that’s just because he cares #i wish things were this easy for my spouse #and his family #his own gender identity has been eating him up #but he’s finally embraced that he’s part of the lgbt+ community #spring break with the child away is going to be time for experimenting #we’re going clothes and make up shopping

[montgomerygaytor]

Sunny Day

Human! Sundrop x Gn! Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing (I guess if you consider ass as an swear, wasn't sure what other word to use 😭) plus swearing would be in most of my writing

Pronouns: They/Them

Summary: Sundrop basically grew up in the daycare of the pizza plex (don't ask how) so he's never real been outside of there. So when he's getting sick of being around his twin, Moon, you decide to take him outside.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

⁽ʸ/ⁿ'ˢ ᴾᴼⱽ⁾

"Moon! Please leave him alone" I've been trying my best to keep these two from ripping each others heads off for the past two hours.

The pizzaplex is closed today so Sun and Moon were kinda stuck with no job to do today. I got in because one, I work here and can open the doors whenever and two, because Sun begged me to come and save him from his brother.

Moon is a menace when he's not around kids. Those kids are the only thing keeping him grounded except for the bad ones, he let's his cruel nature show then. He's been messing with Sun ever since the actual sun rose in the sky.

"Y/N TOLD YOU TO STOP, LEAVE ME ALONE!!" Sun cries out as he runs from the lanky, star covered jester. The golden version of said jester makes his way to me. Hiding as though he's completely invisible.

He's a bit taller than me so seeing this from afar is quite the sight.

"oh~ look at you baby brother~" Moons grin became wider as his eyes narrowed "Hiding behind the security guard, aren't you a sorry sight~"

"Moon, that's enough!" I turn and take Sun's hand in mine. I make my way to the exit of the daycare. Sun waddles along behind me, unsure of where we're going, while Moon slowly follows along sulking a bit.

We exit the entire building and Sun begins to come out of his childish daze. "where are we going Sunshine? We never leave the pizzaplex. In fact, I've never left!"

"we-" I pause.

"I'm not exactly sure where but we'll go somewhere fun, yeah?" I give him a smile that he returns immediately. "I'll keep you away from Moon for the day"

"Yay!" He begins jumping around like the children he works with. He follows like an obediant puppy as I get to my car. I teach him how to get in since he's got long ass limbs that can rival a giraffes neck.

He's bouncing in his seat while I concentrate on driving. As we near a sign, Sun leans closer to the window and he perks up slightly.

"What's up Sunny?" I keep my eyes focused on the road but tilt my head ever so slightly to show him I'm listening.

"THERES A BEACH NEARBY!!" He shouts "Can we go? Can we? Can we?" He starts repeating this over until I finally smile and tell him "ok I don't see why not"

As make a few turns towards the beach he does a little victory dance and starts rambling about how he's never been but has always wanted to because he wants to understand the hype of going out and getting a tan.

"Sun, I swear you're one of the palest people I know, second to only one who is Moon. You will probably burst into flames the second you step out into the Sunlight." I say with a joking tone. A tone he didn't seem to pick up on in his excitement.

He suddenly cowers back. "WHAT?" His eyes are wide as his giggles stop "wait, wait take me back! I don't wanna go anymore!" he's wriggling around trying not to get closer to the beach.

"I was joking!"

"oh"

⊱ ────── {.⋅ time skip ⋅.} ───── ⊰

"Sun, I have a few rules." He was about to run off before he quickly turns on his heels and salutes to me. " 1. If you go in the water, don't go too far. 2. Please try to stay close to me. 3. Please enjoy yourself but also leave everyone else alone, they're doing their own thing and want to be alone."

His grin widens when he suddenly grabs hold of my wrist. "Why would I need anyone else when I have you?" His giggles continue for the rest of the day.

He won a few games but mostly wanted to play in the water since its something he's had little contact with. All the prizes he'd won were placed in the back seat of the car.

It's getting a little dark. "Sun! Come on we should head back!" I grab his attention. As he skips back to me, I start making my way back to the car.

Once I make sure he's safely in the car I got to the drivers seat, and what do I see? A sleeping Sundrop in the passenger seat. He's a giant child but life would be sooo boring without him.

Giving him a little kiss on the cheek, I start the Car and make my way back to return him to his dear brother.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ EXTRA ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Moondrop watched as the two of you got into the car while he pouts at the entrance of the pizzaplex. Why couldn't he come?? 🥺

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Ok but this was so fun to write, AND I remembered Tags this time!! Hope you enjoyed please if you want to ask me to write anything just do. Please I beg! I have a Masterlist for who I write for. <3

In case you need it: Masterlist

#sundrop x reader #human sundrop #fnaf x reader #fnaf sundrop #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #reader insert #sunnydrop x reader

[feiwelinchen]

How Tsukishima would react when you bring home a kitten

Tsukishima Kei x reader (I’m not sure I’m using pronouns, but I wrote it for a f!reader)

Warnings: angst, Tsuki is an idiot; this is my first post, so I don’t know what else I should warn you about; English is not my first language; copy pasted it from Word, sorry if the layout or such is messed up.

Word Count: 2k

I upload it on ao3 as well. Please don’t repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated

I don’t own Haikyuu or the characters

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

You heard the click of the lock just before the front door opened and closed. Then the rattle of keys hitting the glass of the bowl by the door.

"I'm home." Tsukishima's voice rang through the apartment. He furrowed his brow when there was no answer. Your shoes were in the small genkan; you should be home. "I said I'm home!" He repeated himself; it wasn't like you not to answer. Tsukishima entered the light living room.

And there you were, sitting on the couch, hunched over and looking absolutely guilt-ridden.

"What did you do?", Tsukishima's annoyance was clear as day. He knew that look on your face. It was the exact look you had that day you broke his favourite dinosaur cup. The same look, when you ate all the strawberry chocolate while on your period, the particular look you wore the day you confessed to him.

 You were still in high school back then, but you had known Tsukishima Kei for a few years already since you have been seated next to him on your first day in middle school. He became your friend first, but after a year of friendship, he became your first love. Your only love, for that matter. You kept it quiet, though. You knew how he could be and how this revelation might alter your dynamic. So you kept your mouth shut as long as you could. But at the end of your second year at Karasuno, you couldn't keep it in any longer. You met him on the rooftop, and he stopped the moment he saw you. Your face was tilted to the left, your lower lip between your left canines. Your brows were ever so slightly furrowed, with your tear trimmed eyes looking upwards directly into his soul.

"Even though this might destroy our friendship", you started, "even though you might never talk to me again after that."

"I-", Tsukishima starts but was immediately interrupted.

"Please." You stammered. "Let me finish before I lose my courage and become the coward I am again."

"You're not a coward.", his voice was stern.

"Tsuki. Please." And to your surprise, he kept his mouth shut. "Even… even though you will probably laugh at me or make fun of me or whatever… I have to tell you because I can't anymore." You took a deep breath. "Tsukishima Kei." He straightened at his full name. "I'm in love with you. And I have been for four years already. And I know you don't like me like that, and that's fine. I don't expect anything, and I really want to stay friends. But if you can't, I understand. I just… needed you to know. I needed you to know how I feel." Your facial expression hadn't changed throughout all of this. "You can say something now, Tsuki." Your mumble barely reached him. "Please say something.", you pleaded after a few more moments of deafening silence.

"I knew you were dense, but wow," Tsukishima smirked. "And a good actress, I might add. Four years. Really? That's an awfully long time for a teen crush. And I would know. So how about we go to your place and talk about how utterly simple-minded you must be not to pick up any signal I send you over the last five years, huh?" At that, you perked up. "I was watching you closely, but you never gave anything away. Not once did you give me any indication you might like me more than just a friend. I'm honestly a bit impressed by all of that. Why the heck did you wait so long?"

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship", you mumbled.

"Yeah, well. Congrats. You will get upgraded to girlfriend anyway. Now come. If we hurry, we can get some strawberry shortcake from the bakery on our way." He turned around and left, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart and force the blush on his cheeks to vanish with sheer willpower.

 He would never admit it out loud, but this look of yours, this very facial expression: Head tilted to the left, bottom lip between your left canines and eyebrows slightly furrowed, this was his favourite demeanour of yours, for it brought him back to the day on the rooftop. When his heart had been beating faster and louder than anything. When you confessed and put an end to his silent misery. When you became his, and he became yours.

So when you were sitting there, all guilt-ridden and lovely, he had to fight down his smile and the blush creeping its way onto his cheeks – just like all those years ago. Just like always when you looked like that. He knew he wouldn't like what was to come, but still, he knew this wouldn't be too bad – nothing could.

"What did you do?" He repeated with an annoyance laced voice. "Just get it over with."

You didn't answer but slowly lifted your hands and a tiny fluffy looking kitten with them. A high pitch mewl escaped the small pink mouth of the little black furball.

"Did you… did you buy a cat?" Tsukishima asked, utterly perplexed. He had some ideas about what you could have done. Getting a cat without even asking was not one of them.

"He is so cute. I was at Yachi's –"

"Was it her idea?" He butted in, in a frighteningly calm voice.

"We were just looking at the shelter's website, and then I saw him, and I immediately fell in love with him and I… I just got him." You cradled the kitten in your arm, and he nuzzled your hand.

"And you didn't think of asking first?" Tsukishima's voice cracked a bit. His temper was coming out.

"You would have said no."

"Of course, I would have said no!" His speech got louder. "We can't have a cat. We're living in an apartment!"

"I talked to the landlord. Cats are ok!" You stated quickly. Hoping to bring some peace to his mind. Unfortunately, quite the opposite was the case.

"So you called the landlord, but not your boyfriend, who will have to live with your decision and should get a say in what kind of animal he is sharing his home with?"

The sound of his voice scared the black cat. He jumped out of your arms, looking for protection under the TV cabinet.

"Kei! You're scaring him!" You fell to your knees, trying to coax the small feline out of his hiding spot. But nothing worked, and the little one stayed put in his place.

"Get dressed and pack him up; we are bringing him back." That was all he said before vanishing in the bathroom.

It took nearly half an hour for the little furball to come out from under the TV. The whole time you pleaded with your boyfriend to just let you keep him, but Tsukishima didn't budge.

"If I wanted a cat, I would have brought it up with you, and we would have talked about it and made a decision together. You know we are supposed to make these kinds of decisions as a couple and not solo, right?" He snarled while fastening his seatbelt. "And stop heaving like a brat. What did you think would happen?" He asked. "That I would come home finding a cat in my living room and instantly fall in love with it?"

"Kind of… yeah." You mumbled, stroking the soft fur between the ears of the kitten in your lap. He purred heavily, not knowing what was happening around him.

"Do you even know me? When did I ever fall instantly in love with anything?"

"You instantly fell in love with me!" You retorted.

"I should never have told you that."

The car ride was silent, apart from your sniffles and the mewls of the cat that desperately tried to cheer you up by licking your nimble fingers and purring his heart out.

Tsukishima, at one point, tried to take one of your hands – to hold it like he always did while driving – but you slapped him away.

"Did you name him already?" He asked after a few more minutes with both hands on the steering wheel.

You shook your head.

"Good. That will make it easier."

 He pulled the car into the parking lot of the shelter. It was just before closing. Tsukishima was lucky – you were not.

He looked at the animal shelter and then back at you. You stared at him.

"Kei… please…"

Tsukishima swiped away a stray tear with his thumb and held your face. "Come on. They are closing soon."

He got out of the car, walked around it and opened your door – something he usually wouldn't do, but Tsukishima knew what had to be done to get you out of the car. You left with the kitten pressed to your chest.

You were waiting in the entrance room of the animal shelter. An employee said she would be with you shortly and scurried away. Tsukishima looked around and read a few posters and flyers while he waited. His glance drifted to you every once in a while, observing your interactions with the cat in your arms. He watched how you kissed the little furry head and scratched the tiny chin, and he saw the pink tongue licking your fingers. He pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up while doing so, before shifting his focus back to his flyer.

"Sorry for the wait.", the blonde employee was back. "How can I help you with?"

Tsukishima was at the counter in no time. "My girlfriend adopted this kitten today." He motioned in your direction and waved you over. "And…" He watched you walking towards him and spotted new tears in your eyes. He took a deep breath.

"Oh no. Is your partner allergic?" The employee immediately inquired.

"No… That's not it." Tsukishima said. "I… We…" He looked at you again, then at the kitten in your arms. His eyes fell down to the flyer still in his hands. "Well… this flyer says house cats should better not be raised alone. So we are here to get another cat. Preferably one he gets along with." He pointed at the cat.

It took Tsukishima less than 2 minutes to decide on a red male kitten from the same litter, who climbed up his leg the very moment Tsukishima set foot into the enclosure.

 You were sitting in the car while your wonderful, lovely, and absolutely adorable boyfriend was driving. Two little cats cuddled into each other and sleeping on your lap. You grinned at him.

"Be glad I love you so much, dumbass." He said drily.

"I am, Kei. I love you." You answered and took his hand.

"You're an idiot."

"But I am your idiot." You planted a kiss on the back of his hand, which made him smile.

"We still need names.", he said after a while.

"Ok… How about Hinata for the red one and Kageyama for the black one?"

"We are not naming our cats after my former teammates, especially not after that hyperactive moron Hinata Shoyo, nor his Highness King Kageyama Tobio!" Tsukishima warned you.

"What?" Your eyes were blown wide. "But I thought you chose him because he looked so much like Chibi-chan."

"Absolutely not! And he does not look like that Ginger."

"… well… he does, though."

"He does not, or I turn around, and we return both!" He threatened.

 A week later, you came back from the grocery store when you found your boyfriend on the couch with two sleeping kittens on his chest. You quickly snapped a couple of photos.

"If anyone ever sees these, I'm renaming them to Ankylosaurus and Iguanodon! Are we clear?" He warned you with a dangerous sparkle in his eyes – one that promised much more later on.

"Crystal clear, Tsukki-poo."

He growled at the nickname. But everything was forgiven and forgotten when he saw the strawberries you bought to bake him some shortcake the next day.

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x you #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #light angst #fluff?

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

#jade thirlwall #lgbt

[takamishinko]

karasuno and nekoma scenario + headcanons for ftm reader

pronouns: he/him

warnings: dead naming, slight harassment and tranphobic comments like using the wrong pronouns.

a/n: this was a request from @mi-ts i hope you enjoy this and this is what you're looking for :) i added in some headcanons of my own as well. pls tell me if i said anything offensive in there by accident, i was also super tired when i wrote this so pls excuse me for any mistakes :'D

karasuno:

i feel like the entire team is pretty supportive and definitely not transphobic

the only person that i could possibly think of that doesn't understand transitioning would be tanaka but even then he'll still support you in whatever decision you make

let's start off with the first years

hinata and kageyama definitely uses correct pronouns though i feel like kageyama might forget sometimes but he'll just use they instead

tsuki doesn't care much and i don't think he cares a lot about anything other than maybe yamaguchi

yamaguchi would be really sweet about it, correct pronouns 100%, no mistakes or mess ups. he'll probably pay more attention to you and help you with whatever you need

kinoshita and narita are both super supportive people so they wouldn't care that much but they would definitely use right pronouns and all that

ennoshita is kind of the leader of the group right? i feel like he would advocate your pronouns only if ur comfortable with it though

alright third years

suga.

supportive supportive supportive super supportive

makes sure your absolutely 120% comfortable with your surroundings and if there are people bothering you he's not scared to get asahi and daichi to square up with them

daichi is pretty lowk about it. respectful of course. always tries to help you with suga but doesn't end up helping a lot but that's ok

lastly asahi would be…

pretty nervous about making sure he doesn't use the wrong pronouns or make you uncomfortable

like overly cautious but you find it funny and adorable

__________

"yo y/n! what took you so long? practice started 10min ago." tanaka shouted from across the gym.

"sorry…i got caught up with something." you replied with a sad tone in your voice.

the team immediately noticed something wrong. you were usually a pretty cheerful person and sulking like that didn't seem right to them. 

"woah woah, you good man?" noya said while tapping you shoulder.

"yah i'm fine guys, thanks." you lied.

"even a dumbass like hinata and king over there would know you're not fine, what's wrong." said tsuki.

"hey we heard that! but seriously y/n-kun, is everything ok?" hinata said while walking over with kageyama. 

"it's nothing much really… some second years called me uhh… "baby girl" today and asked me if i had anything to do after school. they wouldn't let me go either even after i told them i had somewhere else to be…. and the fact that i'm not a girl anymore." 

"they fucking what now?" suga said with an incredibly hostile smile on his face. 

"do you know their names?" daichi asked.

"yah its f/n l/n and f/n and l/n…" 

"those two sons of bitches??" tanaka and noya screamed in unison. 

"yah do you guys know them or something?" 

"they're in the class beside ours, we don't know much about them except that they're annoying as fuck. they've been making girls uncomfortable all year long." noya replied.

"oh… they must've thought i was a girl since i didn't wear a… y'know." 

"that's still no reason to do that to you y/n. first of all you weren't comfortable with them flirting with you, second of all you also told them that you're a guy and they still called you that." asahi said 

"yah that's true." daichi said with the rest of the team nodding their heads in agreement.

"don't worry y/n, we all know it's not your fault the binders don't work. no matter what you wear or how you look, the team will always see you as who you want to be!" suga said with a bright smile on his face this time.

a smile appeared on your face with warm thoughts entering your mind. knowing you have friends that care about you this much is truly a blessing you don't want to lose. 

"on a side note, suga and i know those 2 as well. in fact we know their homeroom teacher too, i'll go report to their teacher tomorrow. he loved suga and i, we were his best students." 

a small giggle came out of you and so did some happy tears. 

"thanks guys! it really means a lot." you said to all of your friends.

the rest of the practice was filled with joy and laughter. a few days later you received a handwritten apology from the two assholes you were talking about.

__________

nekoma:

same as karasuno i'm almost 100% sure none of them are transphobic and they would all be supportive. same case of tanaka with yamamoto though if anything

after you came out kuroo just gave you his signature smirk and a big thumbs up and continued to do his chemistry.

kai.

omg don't even get me started

he is SO supportive and just the nicest person possible

he's not aggressively supportive like suga but he's literally just always there for you. before you even realize you need something he already has it.

water, food, whatever it is.

yaku (personal nekoma fav), super chill about it

"oh cool, just let me go tell lev so he doesn't mess up your pronouns."

"lev for the last fucking time it's y/n and he/him it's not that hard to remember."

bonks lev everytime he messes up but he eventually got it

fukunaga just goes: 

":3 👍" 

so precious, never messes up your pronouns and names

kenma definitely doesn't mess up, remembers it well and i think he would just be like:

"cool, make sure you let the team know. especially lev…"

yamamoto would maybe mess up but he's trying his best

inuoka and shibayama:

i love these 2 so much btw^

inuoka would be excited cuz this is the first time someone ever came out as trans to them.

shibayama is just beside inuoka also being excited and nodding his head agreeing with everything he says

in conclusion these 2 are baby

__________

"hey guys what's up!" 

"ah y/ns here." kai said with s bright smile on his face, greeting you to practice.

"yo! what's up we're just getting started can you help me set up the net?" yaku said while waving over to you.

"yah i'm on my way give me a sec." 

"kenma go help yaku-san get off your game." kuroo said while poking at kenma.

"give me a sec. I'm almost finished." 

inuoka and shibayama were on the side listening to yamamoto talk about something. you and shōhei rushed over to help yaku with the net. 

"there, all done. thanks guys. kuroo let's start practice." yaku yelled

"yah everyone get ready-" 

just as kuroo said that, two boys entered the gym. they didn't look like they were up to anything good so kuroo stepped up and asked them what they're here for. 

"how can i help you two?" 

"we're just here to find d/n, oh there she is. hey~ you haven't answered our question yet, you free this weekend sweetheart?" one of the boys said as he attempted to move closer to you.

kuroo lost his shit immediately and pushed them away from you. 

"first of all his name is y/n, second of all it's he. lastly if you don't have anything else to say, please leave, our practice is about to start." 

"chill captain~ we just wanted to talk to this beautiful lady over here." 

"for the last fucking time you bastards it's-" yaku cut off kuroo before he could finish.

"leave it to me. you, tall one on the left, f/n l/n from c/n right?" yaku asked.

“y-yah why?” 

“your chemistry mark, 53% and you didn’t pass the test you took on thursday.”

“w-what ??! i don’t even know my mark yet how do you-”

“and you, the stick on the right, f/n l/n. you’re even worse, 49% as your total and your test? i’d embarrassed for you.”

“what the fuck?? w-who are you?!”

“yaku morisuke, 3rd year. the assistant for your chemistry teacher. now if you don’t want your marks leaked to the entire school i suggest you leave y/n here alone and get out.”

“tch yeah whatever !” the 2 boys said as they scurried away. 

“yaku-san!! that was so cool!!” everyone said.

“don’t worry about it! it’s what y/n deserves” he said with a huge thumbs up.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x ftm reader #haikyuu x ftm headcanons #hinata x ftm reader #suga headcanons #suga x ftm reader #suga x ftm headcanons #karasuno #karasuo x ftm reader #karasuno x ftm headcanons #kuroo headcanons #kuroo x ftm headcanons #yaku morisuke #yaku head canons #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #kenma x ftm reader #kenma x ftm reader headcanons #nekoma #nekoma x reader #nekoma x ftm reader #nekoma headcanons #karasuno headcanons

[trv1z]

May I request some Travis Phelps dateing headcannons?

— TRAVIS DATING HEADCANONS!

notes: ofc you can !! also, i expected this to be a mainly nsfw blog but honestly im ok with answering sfw asks !! im a sucker for fluff after all hehe /g

contains: gender neutral reader (no specified pronouns)

trigger warning(s): kinda angsty at the beginning, implied internalized homophobia but nothing too detailed

travis is a complicated dude. its pretty obvious, his dad, his behavior, his beliefs, he’s obviously not very fun to stick around at first

keyword(s): at first.

when you found out the note in the bathroom was written by travis, you just couldn’t help wanting to get him to know better.

it was not easy though, he kept telling you to screw off every time you spoke to him, but with a few talks he became more and more patient with you, he was still a huge hothead sometimes.

the more and more you guys talked, the more and more he opened up to you. if you’re also dealing with abusive parents or religious trauma, telling him about your experiences will make him feel seen, heard and finally taken seriously. but even if you’re not, he just appreciates having someone who will finally listen.

cue him confessing to you about how much he hates his father and how unsafe he feels in his own home.

eventually he started falling for you. which led to him distancing himself from you again. he just couldn’t stand seeing your face or your cute laugh, its crazy who the people that make us the happiest can make us the saddest.

it took a lot of time and reasoning, but he finally confessed his love by leaving a love poem on your locker,,,

after that you two got in a relationship without affirming you were dating, it was kind of a mutual understanding.

ok now to the ACTUAL dating headcanons

he sneaks out of his house at late night just to see you without his father knowing

he loves when you ramble about all the interests you have, as well as he likes telling you all about the books he’s reading.

we all know his fashion sense is horrendous, so make him experiment a little bit with his outfits !!

omg pls tell him all the jokes you know to make him laugh, his smile is adorable sighs loudly

i firmly believe that if he was friends with sal and the gang he would get into sanity’s fall, so if you’re also into that kind of music, concert dates are an absolute yes.

he has never had a significant other, so he’s really afraid he would mess this up.

he would NEVER pressure you into doing something, so when he asked you to go on a date with him, he really made sure you knew that

“...i mean its fine if you don’t want to, i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, i don’t want you to feel pressured... im sorry, am i talking too much? just forget it, im really sorry—” “travis. it’s fine, i would love to go out with you.” “...okay.”

if you guys get a pet, it would probably be a stray cat travis found, he has a soft spot for abandoned animals,,,

loves seeing you wear his clothes, he may not say it out loud but you could just imagine the face he made when he saw you wearing his purple sweater

you guys ‘fight’ for the dumbest things, i feel like he would ‘fight’ you just bc you don’t like his favorite character lol

when you two are in public he doesn’t rlly like showing affection, but when you’re alone he like to be held and being taken care of <33

he loves rainy days because they’re so peaceful and plus he gets to spend time with you cuddling or watching movies together

ok i think this is a weird thing to say but i think you guys’ relationship would be the personification of the song ‘my heart is buried in venice’ by ricky montgomery and i love you if you understand what im saying

when gets jealous its not really ‘jealousy’ but its just him overthinking and being very clingy

<forehead kisses3

make sure to cook him some bologna when he’s having a bad day, its his comfort food !!

omg if you make him a playlist he will literally listen to it on repeat im not joking $:)&:&/‘!/;”

he isn’t so ‘loud’ about his sexuality like some people are, but considering the beliefs he was forced to follow and his son of a bitch dad, its very impressive that he feels comfortable enough in his identity to recognize the fact that he has a s/o. and he couldn’t ask for a better one.

#travis phelps #sally face #travis phelps headcanons #headcanons #sally face x reader #🗝.travis

[piratesfromspace]

Two saviors and some hope

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Cobb Vanth x Reader

Summary: You've been captured to be sold as a slave. But two men clad in beskar armors cross your path. Maybe this means there's some hope. Set after ep 1 of season 2, canon-divergent.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, alcohol, slavery (but reader is free pretty early in the fic), light smut (threesome). Rated explicit.

A/N: Neutral pronouns for reader. English is not my native language, please be kind. I’m really happy to share this short fic with a rare pairing, hope you’ll like it! Fic also available on ao3. 

“Move! Faster, I might miss a client” the abhorrent creature tugging at your chains croaks. You are trying to keep up behind him as best as you can. But with the chains linking your ankles and your wrists, it isn’t an easy task. Especially since you are barefoot in the burning sand of this barren planet. The scorching heat of its two suns is just aggravating your ordeal. The blue-skinned Chiss that is your captor and you soon arrive at the destination he was so eager to reach. A small town and its market. If the previous remark had left you with very little doubt about his intentions for you, it was now even more clear that he indeed has planned on selling you.

“Here, that’s perfect. On the ground, sit, slave.” His order comes with a hard tug on the chains between your wrists, and your knees fall on the compacted sand of the marketplace. You raise your head in a poor sign of defiance, looking at the slave trader. He puts his backpack down at his feet and rubs one of his shoulders. Despite his human-like figure, he is way stronger than expected. Clad in some sort of beige toga, he could easily be mistaken for a simple merchant, but you have learned the hard way he is a hunter as well. The anxiety slowly gnawing at the edge of your mind is becoming more and more hard to ignore with every second. You close your eyes, breathing through your nose and trying to calm yourself. A freaking slave. He has called you a freaking slave, and is about to sell you as one. In those forsaken parts of the galaxy, slavery is apparently still a thing and no one would come looking for you. Even if everything happened in a blur, you know the small village where you were finally living a simple life after a troubled childhood has been destroyed by the Chiss and his friends? Colleagues? Regardless of who they all were, your situation is the same. He has taken you and decided to make a quick buck by bringing you to the first market on the closest planet he could find.

But you can’t resign yourself. Maybe if you run fast enough you could hide yourself somewhere? Find a way to destroy those chains and escape from your grim future. It’s now or never. You take a deep breath and you push as hard as you can on your legs, soaring, ready to run. But as soon as you're up, you barely have taken your first step, that the Chiss grabs your upper arm and yanks you towards him. His grip is cruel and his fingers dig deep in your skin, likely to leave nasty bruises there. You let out a scream, but the air is pushed out of your lungs when he kicks you in the back of your knee, your legs buckling beneath you. You fall again on the ground and you try to soften your landing with your hands, but the chains prevent you from really succeeding.

“Pathetic.” you hear him mutter, slightly shaking his head. You want to disappear. You’re huddled in the sand, your knees and arms hurting, your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t want to raise your eyes and meet his again. Around you, the market is bustling with life, people happily chatting and loudly bargaining cheap items. Though it looks like your little scene has attracted a few surprised glances and hushed conversations. You close your eyes again, wincing from the waves of pain creeping from most of your body. You’re taken out of your suffering-induced trance when you hear heavy footsteps coming close to you and the Chiss greeting someone with his sketchy smooth voice. “Hello gentlemen, do you need a servant? I’m sure this one will be perfect for your…” He hasn’t the time to finish his sentence, because the tallest of the two armored men standing in front of you aims his blaster on the chest of the Chiss without any warning. “What are you doing here, slaver scum?” “I.. what do you…” the Chiss stutters.

“There are only free people in this town, and this is gonna stay that way as long as I’m the Marshal here. So you’re going to release this person and get away from this place as quick as you can. And I’m not gonna ask you twice.”

Your mind is slowly processing what’s happening, and you watch more closely at your two saviors. They’re both clad in beskar armor, one shiny, one painted in red and green, the traditional helmets of the Mandalorians safely hiding their faces. You’ve heard of them of course, the intriguing tribe is well known where you used to live. And it is also well known it is a bad idea to mess with them.

There is a moment of tension. The Chiss seems to be gauging if he can win a fight against the two Mandalorians, or if there is any way he can turn the situation to his advantage. The smaller warrior, the one with the shiny armor, moves a hand on his blaster and slightly shifts in his position, making clear he’s not afraid to shoot if necessary. Anger crosses the face of the blue-skinned man and he pinches his lips in a disgusted pout before speaking. “Alright, no need to be so menacing. I’ll leave, but I can’t let my property here, they’ll come with me.” He collects his bag and pretends to be leaving, tugging on your chains for you to get up. “I think you don’t understand”, the smaller Mandalorian finally speaks for the first time, “they’re not your property, and they will stay here.”. He’s very calm but determined and the modulator filtering his voice gives an even more terrifying tone to the veiled threat. His blaster is now in his hand, casually aiming to the Chiss.

With two blasters now facing him, your captor has very little choice. He lets out a nervous sight and reaches inside his pocket to find the magnetic key to your chains. He reluctantly presses it against your ankles and then your wrists, freeing you from the vicious bite of the metal around your limbs. The discarded shackles tumble in the sand with a soft clatter. Free. You’re free.

“You don’t know who you’re insulting Mandalorians…” you heard him muttering under his breath before quickly leaving the marketplace, under the scrutinizing looks of the nearby crowd. You’re still in shock of what just happened. The world is becoming a blur around you, the ambient noise turning into a high pitch sound in your ears, you feel like you’re gonna lose your footing.

“Hey… can you hear me? you ok?” a gentle touch on your shoulder and two brown eyes with a kind look prevent you from totally fainting, bringing you back to reality. The taller Mandalorian has removed his helmet and is watching you. A concerned smile crossing his face. The information makes your brain glitch. Mandalorians are not supposed to remove their helmet, ever.. But you don’t have the time to dwell on this puzzling news, because the second warrior reminds you of a more pressing issue: “Did he plant a chip? In your neck? Or your back maybe? Do you remember?” “Yes…yes, in the middle of my back I think.” “Shit.”

--------

The table in the center of the modest living room is swiped free of the few bowls and trinkets placed there. The Mandalorian is carefully lying you on it, instructing you to turn on your belly. He loses no time, tearing the thin fabric of your tunic to expose your back. The Marshal comes back from another room, hurrying, with a medkit in his hands. “Din! I think there’s a scalpel vibroblade in here, but I couldn’t find any anesthetic.” The helmeted warrior, Din, doesn’t lose his calm and pulls out the scalpel from the kit.

“I’m sorry, but we must remove it now, before this son-of-a-Kath-hound dares to make it explode.” he says, his helmet turned toward you.

You hear the Marshal searching in the kitchen for something, frantically opening cabinet doors. “Here, you can bite on this.” a clean cloth is finally shoved into your hands and you bring it to your mouth, sinking your teeth in the fabric and steeling yourself for what’s to come. The gloved hand of the Mandalorian is feeling each bone of your spine, looking for the exact location of the chip. He’s fast, methodical, like he’s done this before. His hand suddenly stops a couple inches below your neck. “Found it. It’s gonna hurt. You can scream if it helps.” He turns to the other man “It’s best if you hold them still. Safer this way.” One powerful hand grabs your neck, gentle but firm, while another one presses on the small of your back, making sure you won’t move too much and hurt yourself. The Marshal has removed his gloves, and the feeling of its warm callused hands against your exposed skin is somehow weirdly comforting. Your fingers clench hard on the table’s edge when the blade sinks into your flesh, you squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a growl through your gritted teeth around the cloth. The pain is radiating in all your back, you want to move, to escape the awful sensation although you know it’s for your own good. You can feel the droplets of blood trickling down your sides, ending on the table, forming little puddles soon staining the front of your tunic. The feeling of the blade moving so close to your spine makes your head spin and when you open your eyes, blacks spots are filling your vision. You let go of the edge of the table, your fingers going numb. “I think they’re gonna faint.” the Marshal warns Din. “I’m almost done...” A metallic clatter can be heard as the Mandalorian lets the chip fall inside a cup. “Just need to close the wound now. You’re good.” You’re doing your best to stay awake, removing the cloth from your mouth with a feeble hand to try and take some deep breaths. The process of closing the deep cut in your back is nowhere near pleasant, but at least the menace of the chip blowing up your spine is gone. “It’s done. I just need to apply some bacta.” “No” your voice is wrecked, the tone slightly desperate. “No bacta. I want the scar to stay.” “It’s your call.” Din simply states.

The hands against your back are lifted and the Marshal reappears in your visual field. He fetches a bottle and a cup, and when the Mandalorian finally gives you the permission to sit up, he offers you a glass of an unknown blue liquid. “For the pain.” he says with a smile. It smells funny but you gulp the thing down, and while it burns your throat a little, its heat is welcome. You feel your muscles relax a bit thanks to the alcohol. “Thank you.” His brows furrow while he looks at you. You must look like a mess. Your tunic ripped open in the back, stained with your own blood, your skin coated in sand and sweat, your short hair messier than ever. “I’ll try to find you new clothes.” Behind you, the Mandalorian is trying to clean the blade and the mess you all made. You feel very self-conscious all of a sudden, realizing you’re half naked, alone on a planet you don't know, with two strangers, no money and no weapon, not even a proper garment on your back. You wrap your arms around you, making sure the torn fabric doesn’t expose you more than it does. But the move makes you wince when you unwittingly touch the bruises left by the Chiss on your upper arms. The Marshal frowns even more. “Is there a refresher I can use?” you ask tentatively. “Yeah sure” he seems a bit surprised by your request “Over here, the sonic works and there might even be some water left.” he answers nonetheless, while gesturing toward the small corridor at the other side of the room.

You don’t wait for any more explanation, jump from the table, and almost run to the refresher, locking the door behind you. A thousand thoughts are spiralling inside your head. You let the water run and step inside the shower, trying to wash away the dirt, the pain and the anguish.

------

Days have passed since your encounter with Din and Cobb (as you learned their names were). One true Mandalorian, the other not so much. But both are men of honor - or at least they seem to be. Truth be said, you don’t care that much about honor, as long as they’re nice to you. Cobb is letting you live in his home, and you have a small room all to yourself. You don’t see him a lot since he’s always somewhere else taking care of some sort of problem or quarrel. He’s not a bad roommate and he doesn't ask a lot from you. And Din is living in his ship he brought back from Mos Eisley. Well you’ve learned pretty quickly that sometimes Din is also some kind of roommate for Cobb, in the sense that they literally share the same bedroom. They’re not very open about their relationship but they don’t try to hide it at all costs either, and you’re grateful for the trust they put into you.

It’s quite fascinating to see them together. Cobb, tall and bold, a mischievous smile always plastered on his face, his silver hair and beard highlighting a strong jaw, high cheekbones and kind dark eyes. Din is more of the introvert type, smaller, definitely more muscular, his helmet always on, although you can easily tell when there is a smile or a worry in his voice. You’ve seen them fight together against some outlaws once or twice, and you had been mesmerized by their dynamic and synchronicity. You don’t know much about them, and they don’t ask much about you, and it’s fine this way for each of you three. The only thing still bugging your mind is the reason why they chose to help you, but the small green alien baby the Mandalorian is fostering indicates an overprotective instinct you’re glad to be benefiting from. And Cobb is visibly on the same track, even more so, demonstrating a contained anger each time you mention past abuse, regularly scolding himself for having let the Chiss leave alive.

Actually you’re glad to stay at their sides and to receive their attention. They’ve been careful around you, especially the first couple days, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or to scare you. As time passed, they both showed more openly their attachment to you and you welcomed their friendliness. But lately, you’ve caught yourself wanting more, waiting impatiently for Cobb’s return or for Din’s visit, a weird feeling coiling into your chest and your belly when you caught a glimpse of Din’s skin between his helmet and his scarf, a sudden blush on your cheeks when you run into Cobb getting out of the fresher, wearing just pants, hair still damp and shimmering in the soft light of the morning. Despite your best efforts to lie to yourself, it’s pretty clear now that you’re falling for them, both of them.

It’s twisted, you’re well aware, and sometimes you’re wondering which part of your fucked up past is to blame for this. But torturing yourself searching for answers doesn’t make the crave for their attention and touch go away, on the contrary.

While you’re getting more and more settled into your new life, the scars of the previous ones are still present. Nightmares. The ghosts of past wounds. You try your best to hide it from Din and Cobb, you don’t want to bother them with your traumas, when they already have their very own ones to deal with.

One night, the ghost pain of the removal of the chip comes back. You suspect in saving your life, Din had unfortunately touched a few nerves. It hurts all along your spine, up into your skull, keeps you wide awake despite your tiredness. You roll into your bed, unable to sleep, tears of exhaustion forming in the corner of your eyes. You finally get up, looking for the new pain-killer you know Cobb keeps in the unit next to his bed. After your little improvised surgery on his kitchen table, he had felt the need to purchase some, just in case. He’s not home yet, despite the late hour, but you’re not worried. Not unusual for him to have a weird schedule. You find what you’re looking for, small greenish beads safely stored in a glass jar. You swallow two of them, fighting against the waves of pain each of your movement is sending into your body. With just a few seconds, the medication kicks in, a warm feeling settling inside of your muscles, easing your agony away. You feel your mind drifting pleasantly, your eyelids heavy. You barely have the time to take a few steps back and fall on Cobb’s bed before you blank out.

You wake up in a gasp, sitting up immediately, all your senses on the alert. There is someone in the room. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you can guess Cobb’s silhouette in the door frame. He’s just wearing the light pants and tunic he usually sleeps in. “I’m gonna go sleep in the living room.” he adds with a soft voice. It’s still dark outside, you weren’t out for very long, but visibly long enough for him to come back and find you in his bed.

“Sorry.” You don’t know how to explain why you ended here, you’re just relieved to see he’s not upset with you. “You don’t need... I… Can I…” you stutters, having trouble to find what you really want to ask. “You can finish your night here, no big deal.” he sounds tired but caring. “Stay with me. I mean, if you want to”. You answer without thinking about the consequences, not knowing if it’s the uninhibiting effect of the drug or something else.

You see his shoulders rise just a little, he’s surprised although he doesn’t say anything, and just climbs onto the bed as you shift to make room for him. You’re glad he stays silent, the situation being awkward enough as it is. The mattress is wide enough for two persons, but after a few moments, you press yourself against his body in your half-sleep, subconsciously searching for his warmth. When his arm gently wraps over you, he asks in a whisper if it's ok, and when you clutch his hand tighter against your chest, he takes that as a yes. You fall in a deep restful sleep, the best you had in a long time.

It becomes a little habit, everytime you feel the pain in your back or when nightmares wake you up in the middle of the night. Din knows about it obviously. He’s not angry at you, or Cobb. He understands, and you even recon he’s becoming more and more protective around you. Days turn into weeks, and while it’s nice to sleep in Cobb’s arms and to get renewed attention from Din, it doesn’t really help with your complicated feelings.

One afternoon, you’re heading back home early, and as you enter the living room, noises coming from Cobb’s bedroom make your heart miss a beat. Soft moans, deep voices whispering dirty words and the sound of flesh on flesh. You’re clearly not supposed to be here at this time of day, not supposed to witness whatever is going on. A hand on your mouth, you retreat to your room as quietly as possible, close the door shut and try to calm your erratic breathing. You spend the rest of the day locked up, too embarrassed to dare going out and to risk bumping into them. You don’t really know why, it’s not like it’s a dangerous secret that they’re fucking each other. You guess it has more to do with your own guilty desires than with them.

The very next day, you’re all enjoying a drinking party at the local cantina. The spotchka is burning your inside delightfully, Cobb is telling funny stories from his past and the small crowd gathered around your booth is laughing, unbridled. It’s hard to tell if Din is enjoying himself since he can’t drink in public but you suspect he has taken his share of the blue alcohol before coming here. His gloved hand is casually resting on Cobb’s thigh under the table top, an unusual demonstration of affection. The night is well advanced when the three of you leave the cantina. You’re expecting them to go straight to Din’s ship but they follow you into Cobb’s home, exchanging teasing jokes and clever quips. As you make your way toward your own room, Cobb catches your wrist. “Stay with us. I mean, if you want to.” he offers, using your own words from the other night, smiling without malice. Your eyes dart to Din, silently asking for his consent and he nods slowly.

You all land on Cobb’s bed, and before you dare ask about the helmet situation, Din makes sure the blinds on the windows are perfectly shut, and switches off the light. The soft clatter of beskar against the floor makes it clear he has removed his helmet, his face impossible to see in the complete darkness of the room. You’re in awe of the trust he puts into you. You could easily mess with him and try some tricks to see how he looks, even though you have no intention to do so. You’re too tired to really think further about it, and you decide to just embrace the gentleness of the moment, cuddling up against Cobb like you’re used to. Except this time you can feel Din’s arm wrapped around the Marshal’s body and it makes your heart flutter with a joy you wouldn’t have dared to dream of.

You’re awakened by Cobb shifting against you in his sleep. You feel well rested and despite the lack of light thanks to the thick blinds, you conclude it’s probably late in the morning. The body against your back moves again, and you feel Cobb’s breath against your shaved nape. “Good morning sunshine” he says before planting a kiss there. Your breath hitches in your throat. “You ok?” he whispers, concerned. “Yeah, just… Can you... do that again?” He chuckles and his lips find your neck again. Taking his time, leaving small kisses up to your cheek. You feel a familiar heat building really quickly between your legs. His hands are on your waist, feeling good and warm on the exposed skin between your shirt and your shorts. You’re closing your eyes, savoring the sensation when Cobb unexpectedly lets out a laugh. “Well, hello Din…” “What? I thought I could join.” Din mutters between two kisses on Cobb’s neck. Before you can say anything, you find yourself between them, night clothes soon discarded after you answer positively when they ask you if this is fine, muscular bodies pressed against you from both sides. They kiss every inch of your skin and and at some point, Din grabs your hand and places it gently on his face, giving you permission to trace his features in the dark. You feel a chiseled jawline and a two-day stubble, soft lips and a strong nose, small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes forming there when he smiles. You keep on touching his forehead, up until you find the soft curls of his hair. You guess he must be a few years older than you, surely a bit younger than Cobb. But it doesn’t really matter, and the question disappears when you feel his lips on yours.

You relinquish yourself to the mind-blowing feeling. Even your wildest fantasies weren’t this good. You lose track of how many times you come undone under Din’s skilled fingers and Cobb’s hungry mouth. And when Din finally sinks into you and Cobb sinks into him, your heart misses a few more beats, your bodies moving in perfect sync, making you go over the edge one more time.

It must be late in the day, because you start to be really thirsty. “I’ll go fetch some water” Cobb offers, and when he’s back from the kitchen with the cups, you and him respectfully turn your back to Din to let him drink before he has the chance to put his helmet back on.

When it’s your turn to head for the refresher, you let the water run and step inside the shower, just like you did for the first time a few weeks ago. There is a difference though. Today, there sure is some dirt to wash away, but the pain and the anguish, they are already gone.

#starwars #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #reader insert #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #cobb vanth #the mandalorian x cobb vanth #the mandalorian x cobb vanth x reader #cobb vanth x reader #star wars fanfiction #gen reader #gender neutral pronouns #the mandalorian smut #din djarin/reader #cobb vanth/din djarin #cobb vanth/reader

[enigma-im]

More Than Just a Line of Code Pt.1

Robot x Female Character. Tracey Romero recieves a bot from her Auntie Carol. Little does she know that he isnt just some everyday house bot.

Rating: Teen Relationship: Robot X Female!Human Warning: fluff, exposure of genitals, pg13 at most, robot and human relationships

Word Count: 3835

Part 2

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

I walk up the steps to my two-story bungalow. Juggling the keys in one hand while adjusting the phone against my ear.

"Two weeks, tops! You can’t expect me to give you quality when you take away my clock," I chided. I unlock the door and head inside. The voice on the other end rants out some excuses and reprimands. It was idle threats, just some big dog talk. I throw the keys onto the side table, missing the bowl I bought for them.

I roll my eyes as I toe my shoes off," Let me explain how this will work if I do what you are asking. First, I will be rushed, I’ll work late with a fishbowl of coffee beside me at all times. Then after about three nights of this, I'm going to get sloppy. Which for me is still really good work but it’s not the best. I always promise my best but only if you work with me on this. So I ask you, do you want it done or do you want it done perfect?". I waited in the foyer for his answer. I already knew what he was going to say. No one wants subpar work, it’s understandable. He is paying big money for my expertise and it would be foolish of him to deny me now.

After a moment I heard the beautiful sound of his begrudging approval. I fist pump, "Two weeks and you will have the best software on this side of the Mississippi. The Tracey Romero guarantee.". With a few words, I hang up. I smirk down at my phone before shoving it into my pocket and walking to the kitchen.

I shimmy around the kitchen, dancing to my own music." I got the extend, I got the extend," I sing. I grab some bread and make myself a sandwich while still patting myself on the back.

I didn’t need the extend, his software was mostly done already. His team did a great job. It just needed some touching up then to be properly tested. Take about two afternoons at the most. I just wanted to go on break and get paid for it. Call me a con, it’s just a living.

-

As I sat at my computer, I heard the chimes of my security system. Then the quick thuds from the front door. I huffed as I pulled up my front door camera. I saw my front porch and a man walking away from the steps to a van.

"Someone has a package," I quirked to no one. I hopped off the chair and headed to the front door. Once I opened the door, I looked down at a huge box crate. It was as generic as they came, even had the large text of the word 'Fragile" on every side.

"Well, I have no idea how to move this," I mumbled as I tried to push it with my foot. It was heavy for sure. I bent over to try to pick it up, but it mostly just hurt my back. Rubbing my spine I pondered how to get this thing inside.

I would consider myself smart, maybe even a genius. I was a straight-A student, graduated top of my class at CMU in Pittsburgh. So using my beautiful mind I came up with a way to move the box. I pushed it inside.

Using a pry bar in my foyer to open the crate. The nails were removed smoothly, and the lid slid to the floor. Looking inside I first noticed a large black dome near my knees. Looking down from there I saw a large trapezoid shape then the rest was submerged in the shredded bits of cardboard. After a few moments of observing I figured out what it was.

"Of hell yea, it’s a robot," I shouted with giddy. I dropped to my knees and shoved my hands around the head. In most standard bipedal robots the on switch was near the neck. Right towards the faceplate. "Come on, momma wants to play with her new toy," I chuckle. With a flick, the faceplate turned on in a blinding light. It switched off quickly but still left me seeing stars. I jerk back when it jolted forward. It sat up straight then the soft sound of buzzing echoed in the room. I waited patiently for their system to boot up.

I got off my knees and walked around to watch it. Its face was blank, it just had the reflection of light. Showing off the dust and pieces of cardboard it laid in. getting bored I looked over at the lid to see who sent me a full robot. Even though robots are common it didn’t mean they were inexpensive. I make good money; I live very comfortably. Still buying a robot would set me back and make me eat nothing but microwave dinners for a month.

As I found that it is my aunt who sent it, I noticed the bot was staring at me. I turned at looked up at them and still, their faceplate showed nothing. I waved at them as I sat up. To my amusement, they waved back, but more jerky motions.

"Do you talk," I ask.

It dropped its hand, "Yes."

"Then mind introducing yourself," I smile. Its head tilted to the side for a second then back to normal. It faces plate lit up with a standard face. It was cartoony but it was most likely meant to be comforting. No one wants a robot with a mean-looking face. It smiled wide at me then dropped it to neutral. I quirked an eyebrow and they copied me. "You copying me," I chuckle.

"imitating, but yes," he answers. His voice isn't obstructed like in most bots. It sounds basically human, normal even.

"semantics, either way, I'm Tracey. Who might you be,” I greet. I try to coax them into introducing themselves.

"You are very appealing," they look me up and down.

I snap my fingers catching their attention," Getting off track, doll. Name please."

"Yes, I am D-4N1-3L," they finally introduce. I mumble out their text to myself.

"Daniel," I offer. They nod. "Alright, Daniel, do you mind if I call you a he?"

"He," he cocks his head.

"Give ya male pronouns. Or would you rather them/they," I clarify.

"He," they repeat, "I'm a man."

"Alright then Daniel, shall we get you out of that box," I stand and offer a hand. He looks at it before cautiously grabbing it. I don’t need to offer actual help because he stands on his own. He steps out of the crate and I get a good look at him. His build is standard if not a bit retro. Most robots I've seen are completely covered in their shielding plastic. Hiding all of their technical bits. Yet he has his joints exposed and everything else covered. His neck showed his wiring and the air cylinder that limits his neck movement. To anyone else, he would look like junk, some outdated pieces of hardware. But to me, oh to me he looks terrific.

-

I leaned against the island in the kitchen, watching as he wanders around. He snoops through my cabinets, investigating everything he finds. I look down at my phone that's ringing near my arm. I have set out to call my aunt about Daniel. I placed it on speakerphone so Daniel could listen if he felt inclined to.

After the fifth ring, she picks up. "Whose got three thumbs and is excited you called? This aunt," there was a confused pause," This would be funnier if you saw me, I'm holding a thumb right now. Either way what's up Chica?"

"If I didn’t know you were a mechanic id assume the worst about that severed thumb you are presumably holding," I eye Daniel as I answer. He was currently messing with the microwave. Pressing buttons and jumping when he turned it on.

"besides my possible dismemberment what do I owe this pleasure," She asks. In the background, I could hear some loud tinging noises. Probably in her workshop, or she does in fact have a human finger. Then probably a different workshop if that were the case.

"Well, I’ll give you a hint," I lean on my elbow.

"Oh goodie, I love games. Three hints," she chuckles.

I can’t help but chuckle as well, "alright three hints. Its long, hard, and came in a box."

"Tracey," She scolds, " I don’t believe you should talk about that kind of thing with your aunt. It seems more like a mother conversation."

"I don’t know, mom would be upset that I have him in the house," I answer vaguely.

"Oh, batteries not included? Who needed powered boyfriends when you can get the real thing," She jokes.

I shake my head," we both know battery-operated is better. Humans don’t tend to vibrate.". This caught Daniel's attention.

"I can vibrate," He informs pointing to his face.

"I'm sure you can, doll," I look up at him.

"And who is that," my aunt asks.

"My new boyfriend, best model out there. Even has same-day delivery," I joke. Daniel cocks his head and his electronic eyebrows furrow.

"A robot," she asks before it clicks," Right! The robot, god I'm a terrible creator. How could I forget my baby boy."

"Terrible mother indeed," I click my tongue," tsk, tsk. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.". I look up at Daniel again and give him a wink. He turns his head as a pink color shines from his screen. "Aw, he blushes," I coo.

"Of course he blushes, he has a full range of emotions. My best work if I do say so myself," she pats herself on the back," Practically human."

"So it’s an A.I.," I ask," here I thought I was getting a butler. But I shouldn’t be so disappointed, I got a new friend instead."

Daniel turns his head to look at me," friend? I thought I was your boyfriend."

"We can talk about that later, doll," I answer.

"Aw, breaking up already. Poor Daniel, only been alive for a year and now he has his first broken heart," My aunt coos.

"We are talking about its later Carol, I'm sure it will be fine," Daniel says to the phone.

"You have me on speaker," My aunt asks, "Hi Daniel darling, how do you like Tracey's place?"

"It is cozy, living here would be most joyous," He answers.

"that’s a great sweetie. be nice to Tracey, ok?"

Daniel cocks his head," Why wouldn’t I be anything but?"

"No reason, sorry I doubted you," She apologizes.

"Well, I'm going to get off. Just making sure that you did indeed send me a bot. you can never be too sure," I call out.

"Oh absolutely. Love you baby, take good care of him. He is a sensitive bot, you may forget that he is more than a robot sometimes," She warns.

"Goodbye Carol," Daniel calls out. With that I press end. I cross my arms and lean forward. We both look each other over, observing in the silence.

"Do we need to talk," He asks with an adorable head tilt.

"About what," I answer with a question.

"Us. Are you breaking up with me?" I can’t help but laugh. This only confused him more.

"We aren't together, Daniel. That was just a joke I made with aunt Carol," I answer. I step away from the table and walk around to the fridge.

Daniel stepped away from the table as well and laces his fingers together. It was interesting, robots generally don’t have nervous ticks or idiosyncrasies. Auntie did a good job with him.

"Well, that I won’t lie and say that I'm unfavorable to that," He dropped his head. I was a bit confused about his reaction. He is a strange robot.

"You want to date," I ask. What did she program into this guy? It got my brain moving, how could anyone get a robot to seem so human. Most had applications built in to pretend to empathize with someone, but this was too detailed.

He looked up with a wide expression," Yes."

"Why?"

Daniel looks me up and down before walking over. He takes a hold of my hands and intertwines them.

"You are very appealing," He mimics his earlier words. I pull my hands from his and stare up at him confused. A strange robot indeed.

-

I sit at my computer with my legs crossed. I hunch over my keyboard and stare with my mouth partially opened. I'm working on pulling up Daniel's code and programs. He is currently hooked up to my tower with a bunch of cables. He is sitting patiently, if not happily, against the wall. His 'eyes' were darting around the room, taking in all the area has to offer.

"What is a battery-operated boyfriend," He cuts the silence. I jerk away from the computer, not use to having someone around in my office.

"what? Why do you ask," I blush.

His eyes focus on me, "you said it earlier, I was curious. Technically I'm a battery-operated boyfriend but I'm assuming it isn't me you were referencing."

I can’t help but smile," I guess you are a battery-operated boyfriend. But you are correct, I wasn’t referring to you."

"Then what is it," he asks again.

I look back to my computer, "I'm not going to answer that." I glance over at him for a second and see him pouting. Another curious attribute.

-

I stare amazed at the lines and lines of text. His code was so long, even too long. There were programs for such minor things like when to twitch his finger or raise an eyebrow. Looking further I found a curious program label 'Surprise'. Of course, I clicked on it, I'm only human. Looking it over I was nosy to turn the function on.

"Oh, this is new," Daniel mumbles to himself. I look over as he raises his hands from his lap. Looking down I see a protrusion.

"Oh indeed," I say shocked. He was majority matte black with traces of blue deep in his wiring. The protrusion was more on the blue side and had the lining of matte black. It was definitely an eye-catcher.

-

"Why does he have a cock," I nearly shout into the phone.

"Cutting to the chase, I guess. No foreplay, but I'm going to guess there was some if you found this out," My aunt jokes.

"Not funny, I looked through his programs. Also seriously, you named it surprise," I sneer. This was extremely uncalled for. Auntie has always been a mischievous person. Last year she spiked the punch at the family reunion to 'spice up the party'.  But this was too much. "Seriously, you sent me a sex robot? Not to steal your joke from earlier but I feel this would be a better present for mom," I scold. Mom divorced dad about five years ago, this seemed like a better gift to a lonely mother than a 25 y/o.

"First off, ew. I don’t want to think about my sister's sex life a-"

I interrupt her, "And you want to think about mine?"

"Do not use that tone with me. You haven't had a boyfriend since high school, you bury yourself in work. You convinced yourself that it’s enough, fulfilling even. Excuse me for thinking of you. Also, I will make this clear, I made his A.I. as a little side project. He was not for you till after he was made. His personality seemed perfect for you, so sue me for being kind," Carol snapped. I grabbed the bridge of my nose and sighed.

"Fine, I'm sorry. It was kind of you to think of me but It's a bit much that you added such a personal feature," I say calmer.

"I know you will find some use for it, till then please don’t treat him differently for it. I'm sure he doesn’t know what it’s even for," she pleads. I sigh again, this is just weird.

"Alright, I will still take good care of him," I relent. He is but a vessel for my aunt's ignorant kindness.

"I'm sure you will," she laughs.

"Goodbye carol," I hang up. I drop my phone onto the kitchen counter and exhale. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Daniel peaking his head out from my office.

"Are you angry with me," he asks. I look up at him and can’t help but smile.

"Of course not, just surprised," I answer. It was honest, I can’t be mad at him. I've known him for a few hours and I already adore him. He has such wonder for everything around him that makes my jaded self feel humble.

-

A few weeks with Daniel have been both tiring and rejuvenating. He asks so many questions that I gave up answering them and just introduced him to the internet. I got curious one day and checked his history, he goes on a lot of tangents. Now that he can answer his own questions online, he has moved on to asking about myself. He would ask about my interest or my job. Even comment on things he likes about me. For a robot, he was a bit of a flirt. His favorite thing about me was my hands. He said they were 'gentle and talented'.

We currently stood in the kitchen. He watched me as I cooked, he says he enjoys watching my human rituals. He can’t eat so he just likes watching me eat.

I stir the pot of food as I call out to my home bot," Home, play 90's hits." There was a chime then the music began to play softly from the speakers. Daniel looks around the room a bit confused.

"what was that," he asks her.

"My home bot, it controls some electronics around the house like lights or locks," I explain. He nods his head.

I get into the music and shimmy a bit as I finish off my meal. I slide towards my cabinet and pull out a bowl. With a twirl, I slide the bowl to the stove. Shaking my hips I pour a large helping of soup. Another twirl and I turn to Daniel. His face had its pink cheeks and wide-eyed expression. I set my food down and stare curiously. Why was he blushing?

Before I could ask, I caught sight of his blue swelling. I raised my eyebrows in shock and acknowledgment.

"I'm sorry," he stepped closer to the island to hide himself from view.

"N-No needs to be sorry," I stutter," I'm just curious why it decided to make itself known."

He turned his head as he continued blushing," Y-you."

I point to myself," Me?"

He nods, "You w-were dancing around. You have a firm r-rear."

"O-Oh, thank you," I blush. For the time he has been here I have never witnessed his, um, member. Since the first day it has never come up, pun intended, it’s never been noted again.

"Have you ever, um. Have you ever had this happen before," I ask a bit nervous. We have flirted a bit but I'm still off-put of using him. To have a boyfriend was simple, but to fuck him felt wrong. It was a bit taboo to keep a fully functioning robot around as a sex toy. Even if he seemed human, he wasn’t.

"Yes," He answered short.

"When," I look up at him.

"Depends. Sometimes when you bend over, other times when your shirt drops a bit too low. Most the time is when we sit together on the couch," He answers calmer than earlier.

"When we watch movies," I ask. We watch movies every weekend, I never noticed anything. Not that I would be looking at his crotch.

"Yes," He steps around the island and stops on the side. His crotch still blocked but he was in arms reach. "when u start to daze off and you rest your head on my shoulder. I feel the tingle and I want nothing more than to touch you," he smiles. He places his hands on the counter, not moving them but keeping them where they are. Daniel was leaving me to decide.

Daniel is very smart, never doubted it. Yet he still surprises me with his emotional intelligence. It’s easy to program a robot to see patterns or understand words on a paper. To explain an abstract concept like emotions was hard. You can fake it, but it always comes across as wrong, almost psychopathic. In Daniel, it came off as authentic. It felt real, like he honestly felt those things.

I bounce my finger on the counter as I stare at his hands. He still waited on me.

"You want to touch me," I ask softly. I look down at his fingers. One hand was stretched a bit farther than the other. His hand was sideways, his fingers were slightly splayed.

"more than anything," He murmured. His index twitched a bit.

I skidded my fingers across the table and let our fingers tap against each other. He didn’t move more than his fingers, leaving me with the choice still. Daniel was really smart indeed. I moved closer and grasped his hand, intertwining our fingers. I could hear his body make a low buzzing noise and his chest expand slightly.

My other hand grabs his free one. I pulled him around the table and towards me. Releasing my grip, and him reluctantly doing the same, I reach forward and hug him. I rest my hands on his lower back and my head on his chest. He does his form of a sigh again before wrapping his arms around me. He rests his head on mine and we just stand there.

This feels nice. I can’t remember the last I hugged someone. It had to be over seven years ago when I dated that saxophone player in high school. This felt better though, Daniel was warmer. I ran my hands up his back along the cylinders that controlled his back. I leaned back and looked up at him. I reached for his neck and pulled him down. I kiss him where his lips were on the screen. The whirling in his chest became a bit louder and his hold on my back gets a bit tighter.

I pull back with a shy smile. It felt silly to kiss a screen, but his reaction made it less so. He smiled at me too, even had his adorable blush on his screen.

Daniel led his head down and tapped his screen to my forehead. He pulled back after a moment and looked down at me.

"You look pretty when you blush," He mumbles.

"I could say the same thing about you," I smile.

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

There is a part two. Also i did a lot of unnecessary research on this. even the name of the main character is shared with a famous programmer John Romero. He designed games like Doom or Wolfenstein. But check out my Archive page.

#robot x human #exophilia #fluff #programming #john romero #pt1 #pt 1 of 2 #D-4N1-3L #Tracey Romero #Enigma-IM #monster boyfriend

[rose-sunlight]

J&C’s RTA (or, for the boring people: Jake and Charles’ Road Trip Adventure)

Pairings: Implied Jake Peralta/Charles Boyle, Mentioned Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Original Male Character (OC)

Warnings: One mention of antisemitism, but it isn't graphic.

Summary: When Jake returns from being undercover, Charles realises how depressed he is over Amy's rejection. He decided the perfect remedy is a BFF Road trip. Little does he know, this Road Trip will bring some interesting revelations into the light.

A/n: This is for the @b99fandomevents​ Summer 2020 Fic Exchange written for @impossiblyizzy​! Hope you enjoy!

As soon as Jake returned to the precinct after being undercover, Charles began to plan this trip. He knew about Jake confessing his feelings to Amy (squeal), and how he was horribly rejected. When he returned, unchanged from his stint undercover, Charles vowed to take Jake on a road trip to end all road trips.

He even decided that Jake could dub their trip, hoping that would cheer him up. It did, and so they left on their summer J&C’s RTA—unknowing that what would happen could possibly change the course of their friendship forever.

Of course, Charles knew that they had to have an appropriate car to travel the way in, that’s why he chose a 1960’s panel van, like the one from Scooby-Doo. He thought Jake would look at it and smile; he did, but his smile disappeared almost instantly. Even when he climbed inside and looked around at all the snacks and chips Charles had bought (he had decided on the ones Jake likes, not the ones he liked that had a crunchy mealworm flavour. But Jake looked at them and smiled again, leaning against the window as Charles began to drive to their first location.

The music was blaring: Jake had insisted that Carly Rae-Jepsen and Taylor Swift be playing constantly at full volume. Charles had one hand outside the car, dragging it through the air, feeling the wind between his fingers as they flew past grand houses in the suburbs of New York at break-neck speed. Jake had his eyes closed against the rays of the sunlight coming through the windshield, a small smile tugging on his lips.

He was picturing Amy here with him, experiencing the beginnings of this elysian sunset.

“You know what you need?” Charles said, not taking his eyes off the road.

Jake shrugged, “A dartboard with Teddy’s dumb stupid face on it?”

“No,” Charles sighed, “You need to find someone else. Someone who will make you forget about Amy!”

Jake shook his head “I don’t know, Charles, I just can’t do that. Everyone would remind me of Amy.” He knew this was a lie, he could find someone who was the opposite of Amy and love them for the night, but it wouldn’t be the same, because all he would be able to think of would be how it wasn’t Amy holding him, kissing his neck…

“Well, I’m sure someone where we’re going will have a pair of lips for you.”

“In a weird way, thanks.”

They arrived at their first hotel stop the next day, after taking turns driving. It wasn’t much, but it was grand in its own way, with charming old windows and exposed brick. It was almost like a cottage, but with people and balconies watching you arrive. Charles slung his bag over his bag, slamming his car door shut as Jake did the same.

The receptionist was an older woman, scowling with tiny glasses on the bridge of her nose as Charles smiled and gave their room numbers. He’d decided, for privacy (a new concept for Charles, but one he was willing to learn for the sake of his heartbroken friend), that they would have separate rooms. He looked back from the scornful woman to Jake, who was frantically typing on his phone.

“Who’s that?” Charles asked as Jake shot up, eyes wide, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Oh, uh, no one, just…you know, Rosa…”

Charles raised an eyebrow “Oh, yeah, right, we both know Rosa doesn’t text you for that long,” His eyes comically widened in realisation, like the parent who had caught him with said hand in the cookie jar, “you’re texting Amy, aren’t you?”

“What? Charles, no, why would I?”

Before Charles could respond, the scowling woman passed over the two keys, suddenly breaking out into a fond smile that shook Charles slightly. He grabbed them and thanked her “You boys have fun; are you waiting on another couple?” She asked, holding back the other key.

Charles blushed, suddenly a bumbling mess “Uh, no, we-we’re not…uh…we’re not a couple…” He managed to blurt out, watching as the woman pushed her glasses up and smiled awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, here,” she replied, handing over the second key before gesturing to the stairs “your floor is the third, first two doors on the right, you can’t miss them.”

“Ok, great, thanks” Jake said, grabbing his bags and dragging Charles away from the woman, who he was still gaping at for assuming the two of them were a couple. They were halfway up the stairs when Jake turned back to Charles, who was still frowning as he walked.

“You know,” Jake started “I never imagined you to act so weird just because someone assumed you were with a dude”.

Charles shook his head again, furrowing his eyebrows as they finally got to their respective rooms “Oh, no, it wasn’t that I just realised that she looked like Julia Child! I have all her cookbooks, she looked just like her!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

There was a pause as they both stood in their hallways, staring at each other. The night was still hot and the stars that had just peaked out from the New York smog were shining through, creating an almost blue effect on Jake and Charles face. Jake had to stop; in this light, he noted how handsome his best friend truly was, but only in the way that his looks complimented his personality nicely.

Jake swallowed on air, Adam’s apple bobbing “I’m…going to go in. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Charles nodded, smiling a toothless grin “See you in the morning.”

They went into their separate rooms. Charles couldn’t sleep: he didn’t really understand why Jake got so offended about his supposed shock around being called a couple. He figured it was just a normal Jake move, standing up for whatever he felt was right. Maybe he felt a compassion to help those marginalised groups. After all, Jake had revealed to them the horrific things said about him in his youth when he wore the star of David around his neck.

Charles decided to sleep it off. Jake wasn’t doing much sleeping, and wasn’t planning on doing so until his casual fling was out of his room. He wanted them to stay, for that bit of closeness he really needed from anyone, but he decided that it was easier this way, for them to sneak out in the early hours of the morning.

Morning came, and the weather had ramped up again. It was a heavy heat that made it almost impossible to breathe, and Boyle was sure he would’ve died if it wasn’t for his sleep apnoea mask keeping him breathing. He almost slept in, like he was planning to, but housekeeping knocked (even though he had put ‘do-not-disturb’ on his door handle), and he found himself scurrying out of the room in shorts and a t-shirt.

Unfortunately—or, fortunately, for Jake, Boyle had stepped out of his room the exact time his fling of the night left, planting a big kiss on his lips, while Jake stood in the doorway of his room, dressed only in a pair of white boxers.

“Thanks for a great night.” The man, Jason, he had introduced himself as, said, walking straight past Boyle’s gobsmacked face. Although, it did make a lot of sense for Jake to like guys, when he thought about it. Jake stared back at Charles with a pale face, one arm outstretched.

“How much of that did you see?” He asked, not as concerned as Charles thought he would be, judging on the nice shade of translucent Jake had seemingly turned “I need to know so I can gauge how big my lie has to be”

Charles cut him off “Jake, you could’ve just told me.”

Jake’s shoulders slumped “I know. But…I don’t know, I’ve been keeping this a secret for so long, I was worried you’d be mad. No one knows, if that helps, not even Gina.”

“Knows what?”

Jake flushed red “You know what.”

Charles took a step forward, trying his best to be comforting to his embarrassed and half-naked friend. “I know, but…but it might help you if you say it out loud.”

He had a glint in his eye, and Charles could detect it as unwavering emotion and unshed tears from years of pent-up frustration. He wonders how many times Jake’s tried to tell the squad, how many times he’s tried to correct the pronouns of whoever he’d been on a date with the day before his shift. “N—” he let out a deep blowing breath, “No one else knows…that I’m Bisexual.”

Charles smiled proudly, reaching out to pull Jake into a hug. He didn’t cry, not even as Charles stroked his back comfortingly. He was just relieved that someone else knew. If it had to be anyone, he was glad it was Charles.

“If it helps…no one would judge you. Especially not me.” Charles gave a stern look, and Jake almost begged him silently to continue. “I’m Pansexual! I thought you knew, Jakey, I talk about my fat crush on Dave from HR all the time!”

If Jake was in a cartoon, his eyes would be like saucers right about now. “I thought you meant in…like, a bro way!”

“There is no way me talking about all the explicit things I’d let him do could possibly be in a bro way.” Charles deadpanned as Jake let out a breathy laugh.

“Cool.” Jake said, smiling at his friend as if their eyes had just met for the first time in their friendship. He sits down on the motel fire escape, and Charles joins him, knees brushing against each other “So how does being Pan work?”

Charles sighed “A lot of people say a lot of different things. For me…I’m attracted to the soul of someone before their body. I don’t care about gender, as long as they’re kind and intellectually sexy.” He was staring straight at Jake now (no pun intended).

“We’re super dumb.” Jake groaned.

“Yep.”

“Are our gay-dars that broken that we’ve been friends for what? Five years? And neither of us knew the other was LGBTQIA?”

Charles let out a large giggle, smiling at Jake, nudging him slightly “One hell of a road-trip, right?”

“Yeah,” Jake smiled back, “And it’s only just started.”

submit a request here | Masterlist

#brooklyn nine nine #B99 #b99 fanfic #b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2020 fic exchange #jake x amy #jake peralta #jake/charles

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Higurashi New 2 | Wandering Witch 2 | Moriarty 1 | Taiso Samurai 1 | Kamisama 1 | Munou na Nana 2 | Golden Kamuy 3 1 (25) | Yashahime 2

I’m trying a seasonal challenge this time...so that means I have to leave some Crunchyroll anime to the side. That’s why I’m putting in the tags now.

Higurashi New 2

Apparently, now this Higurashi is called “Gou”…I dunno what that means in the context of this series, but *Saitama face* OK.

Is this girl…Rika? Or this Hanyuu girl I heard of on ANN? Update: Wait a bit from that point. You’ll get your answer.

Do they ever examine why the girls in Higurashi are what they are? Rika seems to have something supernatural going on, but Rena…is just a psycho girl right now, so it’s hard to care.

LOL, I was wondering where this “nipah” Rika meme came from, but it is present in the dialogue.

I predicted that Gilligan cu-er, transition far too easily…

Why is that kid’s face so tanned (?) in comparison to the rest of him???

How did these girls get up the building so fast??? (LOL?)

Wow, the cicada noise was pretty loud there, so…props to the sound guys for making that sound stifling.

Can we really trust what Mion is saying about Tomitake…?

I thought we were going to see Watanagashi in ep 3, but…okay.

Satoko speaks rather formally. She says kochira de gozaimasuyo! instead of kocchi! or kochiradesuyo!.

Who’s that blonde lady? Someone from Umineko?

The bright colours really help to sell the ominous nature of this ED and anime. I don’t think I understand everything that’s happening in said ED, though…

Gonna pause it here because I heard you need to watch the OG and Rei to understand this, now that the new Higurashi is operating under its “proper” name.

Wandering Witch 2

…Elaina’s a bit full of herself still…

…what the heck was that instrument playing over the titlecard? Bagpipes…?

LOL, it’s the Attack on Titan world!

Did Elaina lose her hat when she fell? That must be a very stable hat indeed.

Ooh, particle effects! However…there’s CGI here, although it’s only kinda noticeable.

Have you never heard of money…?

Wait, witches get discounts???

It seems Saya comes from Japan.

LOL, this is basically Quidditch without a snitch!

I like mushrooms, so I don’t get why people kick up such a fuss about them.

Saya seems to act like this is yuri bait…*sigh*

Saya’s crying like her sister died…c’mon, it’s not that bad!

I’m hitting pause. If this is actually how the series is, then it’s primed for a drop, but I can’t help but keep it on for the spectacular visuals and the fact it’s basically anime Harry Potter.

Taiso Samurai 1

I keep swearing I’ll finish my old simulcasts…but then new ones pop up like daisies…(I guess it’s better than having no anime to finish, right?)

I just realised how pretty Jotaro’s eyes are…! The fact he just sort of splats and then doesn’t get up shows how weary he is, unlike Sakura from Moon Land, who would’ve probably gotten up and never tried doing gymnastics again if he were in the same position.

Just by glancing over the results when I google for this Montreal gold, it seems it was done by a Kouhei Uchimura, but I might be wrong on that front…oh wait, there are 3 golds, so it’s not necessarily just that one…

You can tell this is 2002 because of that flip phone.

Intai Zamurai…it’s constructed the same way as the anime’s title. Two characters and then “samurai”.

BB (Big Bird) on the side there is so goofy, he’s…kind of distracting. <- Note the official website refers to Big Bird as BB, hence my use of it.

I was wondering if Rei was the daughter or the wife…so it’s the former.

Kinugawa Ropeway…it rings a bell, somehow. Maybe the Boueibu crew went there as DVD/BD extras.

…does everyone know that a ryokan is like a mini hotel with a traditional set-up?

*snorts* LOL, Keanu (Reeves, obviously).

That montage was a bit worrying…maybe the CGI took out part of the budget? I was a bit worried when I could tell there was CGI in that one starting segment.

…LOL, wut. Agent Smith (from the Matrix)?

Yamakasi seems to be a parkour thing which has its own movie.

…I’m sort of wondering: was that ninja a woman? If Jotaro gets another wife…I dunno if I’ll like the anime as much. Things could become far too dramatic if he did. Update: You do find out later in this episode.

I think – from lip reading – the ninja used -de gozaimasu. I remember getting it drilled into me that people don’t use that these days, but in the time of ninja and samurai, they did.

…another anime set in Ikebukuro. I knew from the station, but…’bukuro must be a nice place if people are reppin’ it all of a sudden.

Was Tomoyo an actress…?

“Kinugawa, as in the river where ogres get mad?” – See, that’s the pun I made about Boueibu’s Atsushi years ago…

This Takizawa guy’s so expressive, LOL.

Gotta love a man in a suit, yes…

…they keep building up to this retirement, only for him to not retire??? Which is it?! (LOL) That declaration works better in Japanese because the -shimasen goes at the end of the sentence so the weird sentence structure in the English translation actually makes Jotaro look like he really messed up due to nervousness speaking in front of crowds. Update: He just sounds like he stopped in the middle of a sentence in Japanese, which he obviously did.

There’s no time travel for sure, but there are ninjas! Plus dudes in jumpsuits!...plus, of course, gymnastics! It could still work, but I keep swearing there’s something supernatural coming around the corner for this…Also, this “gymnast trying to retire” thing seems to be drawing me in because of my whole current lack of direction in basically everything, much like Rikuo of Sing Yesterday for Me.

Kamisama 1

Hmm…Kamisama ni Natta Hi…it doesn’t say the subject stating this became a god, so the pronoun could be “she” or “you” rather than “I”, which seems to be the current standard for it. Update: It says on the title card “I”, so it should have an I then…I guess(?)

There’s a fish on the logo.

…this girl, I already know her name is Hina. That’s the 2nd Odin this season (the first is in Sigdrifa…or however it’s spelt)…she’s gonna be annoying, isn’t she…?

What’s this about a date…?

There are two Izanamis this season, too. The second is Hifumi from HypMic.

Looks like there was an accident, according to one of the signs.

…This feels exactly like a visual novel. I’m surprised it’s an original.

I was wondering why “Key Ramen” (Kagi Ramen) sounded weird…then it hit me. Key! You motherf**kers!!! *shakes fist* You were hiding right under my nose all along!

Hey, Potato-kun! (I know his name is Youta, but…eh, aside from having a possible girlfriend candidate and being a Nice Guy, he’s still a Potato-kun.) Stop staring in disbelief and do something!

…Why Potato-kun, anyway? Is it because his name means “become god”???

…This Izanami is so emotionless…it’s hard to imagine her cheering, Youta was right on that front.

…that style in Hina’s background…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it for Sailor Moon Crystal, but I’ve forgotten what the artist’s name is (the one that inspired that artstyle)…

I almost expected Hina to interrupt the confession, like Leo from Taiso Samurai.

I kinda just shrugged near the end of the episode and finished it just to see if the confession would be interrupted, so…big fat drop there. I must not like much Key beyond Angel Beats (and even then, it’s only okay because it’s the relic of a time gone by).

Moriarty 1

I’ve been picking up Sherlock-related things left and right ever since I was a fan of Detective Conan…not Sherlock, Elementary or that Robert Downey Jr. movie, but the stuff Conan Doyle had his hands in. (I’d also like to keep an eye out for that Miyazaki movie, but I don’t know if I can/should go out of my way for it.) Therefore, I was a pretty easy mark for a bishonen Moriarty.

Who’s this “El” guy anyway?

…That OP is basically Black Butler all over again. I admit I went, “Oh, stuff this” for a second when I saw Rasmus Faber’s name on credits – when I went to entire series for him, they always ended badly for me – but I couldn’t stop watching the episode (since I skipped forward to the actual episode due to background noise), so this might be the anime to change everything.

I’ll be real with you – aside from Japan, America and China (the former two of which I’ve gone to and the latter I’ve technically gone to Hong Kong, which I have stronger ties to anyway), I honestly don’t have anywhere on my bucket list. That said, anime (obviously, the London arc from DC was a big factor) and this one movie called What a Girl Wants have been pretty instrumental in making Great Britain…almost make the list of places I want to go to. Key word: almost.

…I want a dub. With accents like Princess Principal.

Also, I forgot Soma Saito was our Moriarty…LOL.

“…for Man of Standing” (sic).

Turn the other cheek, Mr. Tailor.

The eyes really tell you everything about a person in this anime.

Ooh, this has absolutely no holes in its logic. It’s a strong contender!

Yashahime 2

Holy s***, is that Kagome’s brother?(!) He kinda reminds me of Takagi from Detective Conan for some reason…

Come to think of it…writers like Takahashi don’t normally have androgynous leads like Towa, do they?

That was…not the best fight scene, man.

Ooh, naginata. I’ve read a bit about them, but I’ve never really seen one used in an anime before…not to my memory. Not even the naginata in Touken Ranbu (plural) can help with that.

…this Rainbow Pearl business reminds me of Sailor Moon’s…uh, whatever they’re called…Rainbow Crystals, that’s right.

There’s something oddly comfy about predicting the “it won’t be my crying face, it’s yours you’ll get!” line, as bad as that sign may be for predictability on the whole.

I’ve felt in the years leading up to now, the progressive nations are slowly causing the entire gender binary to unravel. The more I think about my own relationship with my concept of gender – I accept gender-neutral third-person pronouns because initially I wanted to be anonymous on the internet, but now I’m just generally fine with it, for instance – the more I can agree and yet also disagree because of the progress the LGBTIQ+ community has made in recent years.

Munou na Nana 2

Ah-hah! People were calling it that the enemies of humanity were actually the superpowered kids and this proves it.

Ah, I think this Shibusawa is Masuda. I was here for him, so here he is.

Nana just says konnichiwa, which is the most basic of Japanese greetings. I don’t think it was phrased as a question, so…why did the subbers go with that?

Nana keeps breaking her chopsticks by leaving a bit at the end.

Lemme guess…Shibusawa’s talent is actually reversing time, not stopping it.

Is…that Shibusawa Nana’s giving flowers to…?

Golden Kamuy 3 1 (25)

If this is episode 25, was this always planned as a split-cour with season 2? I wonder…

Lingonberries! Oh, lingonberries! They’re those berries Ikea puts into their jam, right? (I’ve never tasted a lingonberry, but…yeah. That’s how I know of them.)

The sign says “Hurep Honpo” (backwards, as some older Japanese/Chinese things do), so it really just says “hurep” (since “honpo” = main shop). Update: Hurep actually means “lingonberry” and not the berry wine like I thought it did here, so it says “hurep wine” after all.

Thank goodness for 2D bears! (LOL)

Ratel?...uh, honey badger! That’s what they’re called in English!

…uh, and then it turns out to be a wolverine. I don’t know my Mustelidae, it seems.

There’s nothing like someone throwing a wolverine to know this is Golden Kamuy…(as weird as that sounds.)

…what was that random line about boobs about…? (Maybe it was just said to be random…?)

…ohhhhhhhh. These yellow eyes work much better than the standard red eyes you see in Munou na Nana or Moriarty. They’re so sinister.

Why did it suddenly change to an interview style…? Weren’t we waiting for a fight? Update: Seems the answer is “padding”. Not that I mind, I think it was interesting actually. Do more of that if you can.

#simulcast commentary #Golden Kamuy #Higurashi: When They Cry - New #Higurashi: When They Cry - Gou #Kamisama ni Natta Hi #The Day I Became a God #Taiso Samurai #Gymnastics Samurai #Moriarty the Patriot #Yuukoku no Moriarty #Wandering Witch: The Journey of Elaina #Majo no Tabitabi #Chesarka watches Taiso Samurai #Chesarka watches Yuukoku no Moriarty #Munou na Nana #Talentless Nana #hanyo no yashahime #Chesarka watches Yashahime

[team-free-will-oneshots]

Breaking Point

Title: Breaking Point (part five of the ‘Buried Secrets’ series) Summary: Dean realises exactly how badly he messed up - but you’re not ready to forgive him. When you and Sam get even closer on a hunt, how much of a rift will be driven between you and Dean? Will you ever be able to cross it? Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader (fem pronouns) (mostly sam x reader in this part) Warnings: some swearing, Angst™, canon-typical violence, also more angst :(  Word Count: 4,811 (its a long one, sorry...)

note; ok so this part is based around 11x07, ‘Plush’ - I stayed somewhat true to canon but ended up tying up the hunt a lot more quickly and easily than the episode for my own convenience lmao. also sam isn’t having the visions from “God” in this series, at least it’s not gonna be brought up bc that’s all just A Lot for me to try and keep track of and i wanna keep focus on the fic plot not canon lol, sorry! anyways hope u enjoy this part!

Part One | Two | Three | Four

Masterlist

It was too bright, and his head hurt. It was almost enough to make him forget the events that had transpired the night prior - almost.

Dean rubbed his tired eyes as he stumbled to the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee as he bit back a yawn. He poured a cup and stared at the nearly-full pot for a few moments before realising no one was coming to join him. Right - Sam had taken your side.

The anger raging through his veins had burned out long ago, replaced only with a hollow feeling of guilt that made him feel sick to his stomach as his brutal words bounced around the chambers of his mind. The hurt in your eyes was branded into his brain, and he clenched his jaw as he recalled your timid voice, your shaking hands as you fled from him as though you were scared of him.

Scared.

Of him.

As if he could ever hurt you.

But you did, his brain whispered. Dean slammed his mug down on the table, hot coffee splashing onto his hands, the tiny droplets scalding his skin as he swore and shook them off. He clenched his fist midair, bringing it to crash back against the wood of the table. He felt so guilty - why did he feel so guilty? You lied to him, lied to Sam, to Cas, to everyone - and he was the one feeling bad?

But the spark of anger fizzled before it could grow, and he resolved to set his feelings aside, at least for now. He was good at that - avoiding things. It was practically in his Winchester genes to ignore his emotions until they broke him. And he wasn’t at breaking point - not yet, at least.

Dean’s fingers found his phone, and he toyed with it absentmindedly, thumb hovering over your number, and then Sam’s. After staring at it a little longer than he’d have liked to admit, he slipped it back into his pocket. You weren’t coming back - not yet, at least. But even though you were gone, Amara was still a threat. Weird connection to her or not, he needed to find a way to get rid of her.

Assigning his pain to the backseat, Dean hit the books.

---

“Hello, Dean.”

The eldest Winchester started awake, the shape of the book before him sharply imprinted onto his cheek. He rubbed it, wincing his bleary eyes at the discomfort.

“Cas?” he groaned. “What is it?”

“Have you slept?” The angel’s voice was weighed with concern, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Obviously,” he muttered, wiping the dried spit crusted at the corner of his mouth as he swallowed back the unpleasant taste an unexpected nap always left. “Found anything?”

“Nothing new,” Cas said, glancing around the empty bunker. “Where are Y/N and Sam? Shouldn’t they be helping you research?” he asked disapprovingly, and Dean chuckled dryly.

“I haven’t heard from them in two days,” he said, plastering on a humourless grin. Castiel’s brow creased.

“Are they on a hunt? They could be hurt, we should-”

“No, they’re not on- Y/N’s a witch,” Dean blurted, and Castiel’s eyebrows flitted skywards in surprise.

“A witch?”

“You heard me,” Dean growled, turning back to the books. “She- she used a hex bag on me, so I kicked her out. Sam went after her - texted me, told me not to follow ‘em.”

“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Cas remarked, and Dean scoffed.

“Yeah, tell me about it. She said it was to help me, whatever that’s meant to mean,” he muttered. Cas gave him a knowing look, and Dean’s defences shot up.

“What? I’m fine, I don’t need help!” he said angrily, and Cas made a disbelieving sound.

“Right. Of course not. Have you considered that Y/N might just have been worried about you, and really did want to help?” Cas prompted, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Of course I have, Cas. But that doesn’t justify her lying about being a monster! We’ve known her years, and she never told us the truth!” he exclaimed. Cas hummed disapprovingly.

“Dean, you know that witches aren’t all bad. You just happen to have a great deal of experience weeding out the… bad apples,” he said slowly. “Can you really blame her for keeping it a secret, considering how you’ve reacted?”

Dean’s jaw ticked, and your teary face flashed again into his mind. He wondered how long you’d cried - if Sam had comforted you, like the big softie he was. If you’d thought about him at all the last few days. If you wished he’d reacted differently. ‘Cos god, he was wishing that right about now, too.

“She-she’s dangerous,” Dean protested lamely.

“If you really believed that, you would never have let Sam go after her alone,” Cas reminded him gently, and he couldn’t find the words to argue back. He let his eyes fall on the yellowed paper before him, the fading ink blurring into a meaningless jumble of letters as he struggled to make sense of the mass of emotions tangled amongst his thoughts.

“Why was I so angry?” he asked eventually. “She lied to me, and- and I was so pissed. But now I just… I miss her,” he admitted. Cas offered a tight, sympathetic smile.

“You do have a tendency to lash out when you’re hurt,” he informed the Winchester. “I know that better than most. And it’s understandable that you could feel… betrayed,” Castiel continued slowly, and Dean grunted in agreement.

“Yeah, well, she did lie to me,” he muttered.

“So has Sam. And I, in the past. Don’t be angry, but… you do tend to latch onto small things to push people away. And I know,” Cas interjected as Dean opened his mouth to protest, “this isn’t exactly a tiny secret. But I think that the reason why she kept it was quite clear. The real question is - why did you feel the need to push her away in the first place?”

Dean swallowed hard, hating that the angel was right in his analysis, and hating even more how obvious the answer seemed to him now. Why had he pushed you away, just as you were starting to get close?

The answer came to him as easily as the alphabet. Because he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your concern, your care, your smiles. And above all, he certainly didn’t deserve your love. He didn’t deserve to be happy with you - he knew he’d only bring you down.

And so, Dean had done what Dean did best - found a means to push you away. To alienate himself from you, so that even if he changed his mind, you wouldn’t want to be with him after the way he had wronged you. So that you could be free of him. And it just so happened that your newly exposed identity as a witch was the perfect excuse to slice a rift between you.

Dean ran his hands over his face as he groaned. “God, Cas, she was just trying to help. She was trying to help me and I was such a fucking dick to her. How do I go back from that?” he asked helplessly, voice cracking as he raised his head to meet Castiel’s eyes. The angel’s face was solemn.

“I’d imagine you start with an apology.”

Dean sighed, mouth half open to speak when his phone vibrated against the table. His jaw fell closed, and he shot Cas a tense look before holding the phone up to his ear.

“Dean,” he muttered.

“Hiya, Dean!” Donna’s cheerful voice greeted. “Look, it could be nothing, but I might have a case for ya…”

---

You glanced up from your book as Sam’s phone vibrated across the room - the youngest Winchester had gone for a walk to clear his head from the seemingly endless lore and news articles the two of you had been picking apart since your hasty departure from the bunker. Sighing, you heaved yourself to your feet, rubbing at your temple absentmindedly as you glanced at the caller ID.

Dean.

Breath catching in your throat, you set your jaw and purposefully declined the call. Thoughts of the eldest Winchester didn’t bring you sadness, not anymore - instead, they fuelled your system with rage. How could he treat you like that, say those things to you after all you’d been through together? You humphed in annoyance, and just as you were about to re-take your seat, the phone began its incessant buzzing once more. Defeated, you held the phone up to your ear, bracing yourself for what was to come.

“Sam’s phone,” you said tersely, and the line fell dead silent.

“Y/N?” Dean asked, voice barely rising above a whisper. You cleared your throat, careful to keep your voice steady as you responded.

“That’s me - the one you kicked out, remember?” you said brightly, though your voice was underlaid with acidic anger that corroded your cheerful tone.

“I remember,” Dean muttered. “Y/N, I-”

The door opened, and you exhaled in relief as you pulled the phone from your ear. “Sam, it’s your brother,” you said stiffly, and Sam quirked an eyebrow before accepting the phone in your extended hand.

“Dean?” he asked in surprise, and you picked up your book again as Sam walked into the bathroom, closing the door while he continued the conversation with his brother. You heard his voice rise in irritation, but after a few more moments, he walked out with a defeated expression.

“Donna needs help on a hunt,” he said apologetically, beginning to gather his things. You jumped up and began to prepare your own, but paused at the confused expression clouding Sam’s face.

“Uh… Dean’s gonna be there. You don’t have to come,” he told you, and you shrugged half-heartedly.

“I feel so cooped up in here, I honestly don’t care. A hunt would do me some good - help me get out some pent up anger,” you explained, and Sam frowned but didn’t object again. “So, what are we looking at?” you asked.

“Uh, Dean said something about a “killer bunny,” Sam said, and you shot him a confused look.

“A what?”

“That’s all he said - it might not even be our kind of thing. I say we go down, give Donna some peace of mind, and if it’s not our kinda gig we let the police take it from there,” he said, and you nodded.

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s hop on down and check out this killer bunny,” you said, smiling cheekily. Sam groaned.

“Really, Y/N?” he asked, though his tone was tinged with amusement. “Puns?”

“Hey, maybe it was an accident - you really ought to stop jumping to conclusions,” you defended, and he rolled his eyes.

“An accident? Yeah, I doubt it - you’re hardly being subtle,” he replied, and you grinned slyly.

“I guess you could even say I’m dangling a carrot in front of your face,” you pressed, and Sam turned to you in exasperation.

“You done?” he asked, despite the smile playing on his features. You grinned.

“Not even close.”

“Well, I’m putting an official ban on rabbit puns for at least the ride down,” Sam said, and you pouted.

“Why?” you whined, and he shot you a playful grin.

“They’re just not bunny.”

---

A pun-filled car ride later, the two of you strode into Donna’s precinct in your FBI getups, where Dean was already waiting for you.

“Sorry if we’re a hare late, traffic was a nightmare,” you greeted, pointedly ignoring Dean as you gave a laughing Donna a hug. Sam rolled his eyes fondly, and you winked at him before your sights fell on Dean. His eyes met yours, and he quickly lowered his gaze, clearing his throat before turning to Donna.

“So, what makes you think this is our kind of thing?” he asked. Donna explained the situation - gruesome murder, and an apprehended perp whose mask refused to budge. You whistled as she finished.

“Well, it’s certainly a hare-raising tail, but I’m not sure it’s our thing,” you said with a mischievous smile. Donna laughed, Sam rolled his eyes affectionately, and Dean tried a tentative smile of his own.

You ignored it.

“Yeah, but if uh, you’ve got a wild hare...” he added playfully. “See what I did there?” Donna laughed again, but you rolled your eyes and acted as though he hadn’t spoken, refusing to even meet his gaze. His heart sank, and the smile fell from his face.

A short while later, Donna led the three of you to the holding cells, where you frowned at the sight before you.

“Any witnesses?” Sam asked, and Donna nodded.

“Ex-wife - thought she was next, but the bunny just up and walked out the door!” she exclaimed.

“You ID him yet?” Dean queried, and Donna shook her head.

“Nope. No wallet, cell… ran his prints, but no prior record. Couldn’t even get our hands on him long enough to check for any identifying marks. Only thing we do know is he’s caucasian, roughly eighteen to twenty-five… and terrifying,” she breathed.

Donna was called away by Officer Stover, leaving the three of you, plus bunny, alone. You frowned, stepping closer and squinting at the bloodied mask.

“Are we sure it’s not just a really committed furry?” you asked slowly. Sam’s brow furrowed.

“What’s a-”

Dean frantically shook his head at his brother. “You don’t wanna know,” he interrupted, and the exaggerated fear in his voice brought a smile to your face. You quickly composed your expression, clearing your throat as Dean stepped forward and threw some mocking quips at the masked figure.

“What, took too much molly? Super-glued your mask to your head? Got paranoid, stabbed a guy? Been there,” he chuckled, and you scoffed. Dean turned around, frowning at your reaction, and the bunny seized the moment of distraction to grab him by the neck and slam him against the bars of the holding cell.

Sam busted out the holy water, to no avail. “Not a demon,” he remarked. You stood to the side, panic flaring in your chest at the sight of Dean struggling. No no no no no!

“Well, he’s strong!” Dean snapped, and Sam grabbed the bunny’s hands, trying to pry them off his brother’s neck. You rubbed your temple, trying to soothe your stress headache and willing yourself to think when it hit you.

“Wait, I’ve got this,” you muttered, pushing Sam back as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Any time now, Y/N!” Dean pressed.

“Shut it!” you snapped, before thrusting your hands forward. A surge of power had the attacker flying backwards and slamming into the wall. It didn’t seem to faze him - he got to his feet and stood perfectly still, those fake, glassy eyes seeming to stare straight at you. Dean winced, rubbing at his neck. As the adrenaline seeped from your veins, you felt your headache fade away.

“Thanks,” Dean muttered, and you folded your arms, resolutely ignoring him. Meanwhile, Sam’s eyes fell on the bunny’s t-shirt - Minnesota Tech - and the tattoo on his arm - ‘Kylie Forever’.

“Kylie forever,” he mused. “That’ll work.”

It didn’t take you long to compile a list of potential ‘Kylie’s’, and Dean whistled at the length of it. “Alright, Y/N and I will take the first ten. Sam, you can-”

You cleared your throat. “Uh, actually, I’ll go with Sam,” you interjected, and Dean raised his brows in surprise.

“But- but we always team up,” he objected, voice ringing with hurt. You shot him a tight smile.

“Yeah, well I wouldn’t want you to have to swallow your disgust, would I?” you spat, and Dean flinched at your words as the reality of the situation crashed over him. How could he forget?

“Listen, Y/N…” he began, but you shook your head.

“Just… leave it,” you grumbled. “We’ll check in later. C’mon, Sam,” you dismissed, grabbing Sam’s arm and walking away. Sam shot his brother an apologetic shrug, letting you guide him towards the exit.

Dean watched as you left, expelling a deep sigh as he ran his hand over the side of his face before shaking his head to himself. He jumped when Donna’s voice echoed from behind him.

“What’d’ya do to get her knickers all up in a bunch?” she asked, and Dean barked a dry laugh that died on his lips.

“I messed up, is what I did,” he informed her. “Things were good. Great. Better than, even - we were… well, we were about to be somethin’, anyways, but I… said some things I shouldn’t have. And now I dunno if she can forgive me. If I even deserve to be forgiven.”

Donna frowned. “Sounds like you should try apologising, bud. Don’t be afraid to go real sappy, neither, just make sure ya bein’ honest,” she advised, and Dean grunted.

“Yeah, I would if she’d actually talk to me,” he scoffed, and Donna hummed.

“Well, if she needs space, you gotta give it to her,” she said simply. “Can’t expect a girl to give ya a civil conversation if you didn’t give her one to start with, can ya? Piece of advice, though - if ya wanna patch things up, ya betta get in sooner rather than later. She and Sam are lookin’ real chummy,” she said, elbowing him slyly. He frowned.

“Her and Sam? No way. Really?”

Donna whistled. “Oh, yeah. Besta luck,” she said, patting him lightly on the back. “Catch ya later.”

As the blonde left, Dean stood for a moment, stewing in his own overwhelming emotions and chewing on the advice Donna had offered. You clearly wanted your space… and if you really were moving away from him and towards Sam… well, wasn’t pushing you away exactly what he’d wanted in the first place? Wouldn’t it be better for you to be with his kind, thoughtful brother instead of being stuck with… well, whatever kind of a mess Dean himself was?

He sighed, shaking his head and ignoring the hollow aching in his chest as he forced himself back to work. He could deal with this later - he wasn’t at breaking point.

Not yet.

---

It didn’t take long for the puzzle pieces to fall together - once you realised you were dealing with a ghost and managed to piece together a list of the costumes he was attached to, it took near no time at all to sort it out between you, Sam, Dean and Donna. You’d stuck with Sam the whole time, communicating with the others in quick phone calls and texts.

Sam was by your side when you tossed a match on the final costume, watching the fire sear through the fabric and the reeking smoke drift into the air as the ghost of Chester Johnson was eaten up by the tongues of hungry, flickering flames. You exhaled heavily as silence fell across the forest the two of you had found yourselves in, an echoing quiet broken only by the crackling of the fire.

“Well, that’s that,” you murmured. Sam swallowed, nodding.

“Yeah. Nice work.”

A smile sloped your lips. “You too. Now what?”

Sam’s phone buzzed before he could reply, and he tugged it from his pocket, glancing at the screen before his eyes met yours.

“Now we meet up with Dean and Donna,” he said. You were quiet.

“Right. Dean.”

“Y/N… maybe you should listen to what he has to say. It seems like-”

“I can’t, Sam. Not right now, not after he… it’s just too soon,” you mumbled, and Sam offered a tight, sympathetic smile.

“Yeah. I get it. But you can’t stay mad at him forever,” he reminded you. You averted your gaze, eyes cast downwards.

“I know. But… I can’t forget. Not yet.”

Sam’s eyes softened, and he rested his hand soothingly on the curve of your waist. You ignored the stutter of your heart.

“Come on, let’s get back.”

The car ride back to the station was quick to draw the lingering tension between the two of you, replacing it with easy banter and refreshing laughter that still bubbled on your lips as the two of you stumbled into Dean.

“Hey - is it done?” he asked, and Sam nodded.

“Yeah - he’s gone. Everything’s burned,” Sam confirmed, and Dean grinned, clapping his brother on the back.

“Great work, Sammy!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s Sam,” he corrected affectionately, and Dean brushed him off with a nonchalant,

“Pssh.” He turned to you. “Good work, Y/N - you always could handle yourself on a hunt,” he complimented, and the smile died on your lips. Your jaw was taut as you avoided his gaze.

“Yeah. Thanks,” you muttered. As much as a small part of you appreciated that Dean was making somewhat of an effort, the memories of that fateful night weren’t so easily erased. Years of friendship reduced to ashes in a single moment as Dean’s rage sent you packing - the echoes of his words still cut you, and you were yet to determine whether their scars would be permanent. At any rate, you knew you weren’t ready to forgive him. Not yet.

Dean sighed. “Look, Y/N… can we talk?”

You half scoffed, feeling your defensive walls rise as you shook your head. “You didn’t exactly give me the liberty of a discussion the other night, did you?”

Your words came out harsher than you intended, and you felt a flicker of guilt at the hurt in Dean’s eyes that you quickly forced yourself to quell. Dean shook his head in disbelief, the action paired with a sharp intake of breath as your words slammed into him like a brick.

“C’mon, man… I was angry. It was a lot to take in, you can’t expect me to just-”

“Dean,” Sam warned, cutting his brother off before he could raise his voice. Dean took a breath, nodding, and you interrupted him as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Whatever, Dean. I’ll be seeing you.” The words were cold, your tone colder as you spun on your heel, stalking back to the car. Despite the hurt welling in your chest, you found yourself half-hoping that he’d follow you, that he’d properly apologise, that things could go back to some semblance of normal…

But Dean watched as you left, Donna’s words ringing in his head. “If she needs space, you gotta give it to her.” As much as every bone in his body longed to follow you, to hug you and kiss you and whisper the words that would fix everything, he stayed put. There were no magic words, no embraces nor kisses that could fix the mess he had made.

And so, with a heavy heart, he let you leave.

---

The car ride back to the motel was draped with a silence so thick you could have sliced it with a butter knife. You didn’t want to think, not right now, so you busied yourself staring out the window at the scenery, leached navy and grey in the moonlight. The road was quiet at this time - the two of you were alone, your only company the yellow glow of the headlights bouncing back at you from the green road signs you passed.

You could feel another headache coming on, so you popped some aspirin and swallowed them dry. The pills were bitter and powdery as they started to crumble on your tongue, and you winced as you finally got them down. Sam glanced over at you when he heard the crinkle of the aluminium sheet of tablets, but maintained his silence.

When he pulled into the parking lot, you headed to the room in sullen silence. You collapsed onto your bed still fully clothed, kicking off your shoes as you sighed. Your conversation with Dean had left a hollow sensation in your chest you weren’t quite certain how to shake. Glancing over at Sam, you saw him climbing into bed and shooting a concerned glance your way. You met it with a ghost of a smile.

“Do you mind…”

He chuckled. “C’mon,” he invited, nodding to his bed. A breathy laugh fell from your lips as you crawled into his bed, letting him tuck you against his chest. You’d slept beside him every night you’d stayed in the motel thus far - his warm presence helped you drift off better than any of your hex bags ever could. Your magic couldn’t replicate the gentle rise and fall of his chest, nor the patterns his fingers would trace over your spine.

“This is just a mess, isn’t it?” you asked weakly, and felt the sudden sinking of Sam’s torso as he sighed.

“Maybe a little,” he allowed, shooting you a small smile that you instinctively returned.

“I just… I don’t know how to feel. I wish things could just go back to the way they were, but… that’s not going to happen, is it? Not now that he knows,” you whispered. “God, I wish I wasn’t… me. Everything would be so much easier.” Sam fell into a thoughtful silence, and you almost thought he’d fallen asleep until his voice broke the comfortable quiet hanging over the room.

“Things won’t be the same,” he said eventually. “But… maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe this is something you needed, something to push you towards…” He trailed off, sighing again as he shook his head. “I dunno. But I don’t think you should just give up on things getting better,” he said. “And you definitely shouldn’t regret being true to yourself. You… God, you’re incredible, Y/N. And if Dean can’t see that, then that’s his loss.”

You smiled at his soothing words, glancing up at him in the darkness. Shadows clung to his skin, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the perfect disarray of his hair. He caught you staring and chuckled, the dimples in his cheeks protruding at the action.

“Thanks, Sammy,” you said eventually, and he shook his head, fingers moving to comb through your hair, gently tugging out the knots. You stared at him a moment longer, your lips forming your next words before you’d even realised you’d spoken.

“Why do you let me call you Sammy? You always correct Dean,” you realised, and Sam laughed sheepishly, the sound swallowed by the darkness. He shrugged.

“I dunno. I guess… when Dean says it, I know he’s seeing me as just his kid brother. But when you say it… it feels different. Almost comforting.” He shrugged again, ducking his head in embarrassment. “That probably sounds stupid…”

You shook your head. “No - not at all,” you breathed, breath catching as his eyes flitted to yours. You were vaguely aware that at some point during your conversation your headache had faded, the space it occupied replaced with Sam’s smile, the warmth of his voice, and solid presence of his arms around you.

His proximity seemed to become more apparent as you became aware of your heart thumping against your ribs. If he noticed, he kept it to himself, though you knew there was no way he could miss the sudden hitch in your breathing as he adjusted to nestle you snug against his side. The simple, caring movement unleashed a wave of emotions you’d been fighting to hold back for longer than you cared to admit - feelings you’d bottled up and pushed away, dismissing them as faint impossibilities, distant fantasies that would never see the light of day.

And so, how fitting it was that you found your breaking point under the dark protection of the night.

Before you could stop yourself, your mouth was slanting against his, sleepy and soft and slow. Sam froze beneath you, and you quickly pulled back, but before you could panic he was returning his lips to yours. Your eyes fell closed as his thumb found the side of your face, brushing along your cheekbone as he tilted your chin up to gain better access to your mouth. Sam’s hand wandered to your waist, clutching you close against him as he twisted his neck to deepen the kiss, the press of his mouth on yours a far more important cause than maintaining his own comfort; your smile, captured in the gentle exploration of his lips over yours, made the straining of his muscles worth it.

But as all good things do, the kiss came to an end. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face as you leaned into Sam’s chest, closing your eyes as his lips found your hair, whispering his goodnight into your scalp. But as sleep began to carry you off in her gentle waves, your mind couldn’t help but drift to Dean - in the bunker that felt more than a thousand miles away, the other side of his bed cold but for the empty bottle he was surely nursing. Dean - still sleeping alone.

His tired, green eyes were the last sight your mind conjured, before sleep finally washed you away.

__________

Read part six here!

Buried Secrets tags: @clarinette07 @demonsofhunting @carryon-doctor-lock @coupleofgoons @colie87 @non-exclusive-trash @txnii-hxrdyy @spaghettiwoes

Forever Tags: @babygirloreo @calaofnoldor @lmpala97 @sebastianshoe @81mysteriouslyme @castieliswatchingoverme @spnlovr73 @kina666 @liviaolivia @simplyxparker @helpmeluci @demonsofhunting

Sam tags: @sammys-dimpless

Dean tags: @polina-93 @justagirlinafandomworld @coupleofgoons

If you want to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know!

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #sam winchester one shot #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x you #spn #spn imagine #dean x reader #buried secrets series

[uas-art]

Title: The Pandering Country Western Star

Summary: Craig is a closeted country star. Tweek is an internet famous singer who's been out since middle school. when Craig’s ex outs him to a magazine, can Tweek be of any help to Craig in his time of need?

Ships: Creek, Revin, mentioned Stendy, past Cramos

Rating: T

Other: This was a cathartic story to deal with my coworkers being assholes :)

~~~~~~~~

Craig tipped back his head, downing the last of his drink.

Stan raised an eyebrow at him. "So, it's been fifteen minutes. Are you finally going to tell me what happened?"

Craig signaled the bartender for another Coke. He wanted to get absolutely wasted and completely forget the betrayal, but he couldn't risk that he might do something that would drag his reputation down worse than it already would be next week.

"Thomas." Craig fished out a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the bartender. "Just keep bringing whatever drinks you have cold and around until that runs out." He instructed the bartender, who then looked at her regular, Stan.

Stan just shrugged. "What's left over can pay off my tab, I guess."

She nodded and left the men to their own devices.

Stan sipped his Sprite. "What about Thomas? You two break up?"

Craig stirred the ice in his glass. "We are now." He groaned, shoulders slumping forward. "Stan, my career is over. He told a magazine."

Stan choked on his drink. He beat his chest and earned a look from the bartender. He waved her concerns off with his hand.

"'Told'? 'Told' like..." Stan lowered his voice, "like he told a magazine you're gay?"

Craig nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Not just any magazine. Fucking 'Country And Western Life' —the biggest country music magazine. I am boned."

Stan made a sound of understanding, reaching out to pat Craig's back. Stan was in the unique position of having some empathy for Craig's situation. His music career was ruined by gossipy journalism digging too deep into his personal life as well, though, Stan's career hadn't nearly made it as big as Craig's.

His band had one single make it to number one on the top forty charts, and that was mainly because it was in a low budget action spoof that was an unexpected box office success.

Craig had one song make it to number two, and three others make it into the top ten on the country charts. A collaboration he did with another, older star, made it to number one and held the spot for nearly three weeks.

Stan's fall from grace was not nearly as big of a crash and burn as Craig's would be.

"I don't understand why he'd do this." Craig shook his head. "I thought we had something special. Fucking wrong there, I guess."

"What did your manager say?" Stan asked.

Craig raised a shoulder in a shrug. "Red said she'd leave it up to me. I could deny it, but since I don't know what Thomas brought to 'Country And Western Life', I might end up making myself look like a fool. Or I could just come out myself before it publishes and take the thunder from them, but then..." He shuddered.

"You'd have to deal with a legion of homophobic ex-fans throwing Bible verses at you and saying you're doing it to pander to gay people and trying to be some SJW?" Stan finished.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose my fan base."

"Well, I can tell you from experience, stepping out of the limelight and settling into a nice domestic life isn't terrible." Stan unlocked his phone and began to turn it towards Craig, but he raised his hand to stop him.

"I don't want to see pictures of your partner and kids." Craig rolled his eyes.

Stan huffed in offence but put his phone in his pocket. "Honestly, Craig? I think you're worrying too much. It's twenty-nineteen. Not as many people as you're expecting will care that your gay. A vocal few, sure, but even if some people are against queer people, they'll ignore it for the sake of your music and work. It'll only be a big deal if you make it one."

He raised his glass slightly. "Or that's what happened when Wendyl and I came out. We still have to block some assholes who spam our accounts sometimes, but once the first 'outrage' died down, we actually got more fans. I don't know if I'm good representation for people, but I think Wendyl is, at least." He smiled fondly at the thought of his partner.

Even though he made a snort at Stan, he was glad that they were happy together. When they were just college roommates, Craig was sure he and Wendyl wouldn't actually make it past the first few dates. Somehow they did though.

That was more than Craig could say about his relationship. He honestly thought Thomas might be the one. He'd occasionally even brought up the idea of a secret wedding, usually as a joke, to test the waters. Thomas never answered him seriously, but he never said he would be against it. The tabloids would have a field day if he started wearing a wedding ring.

Not that that mattered anymore...

Craig set his straw down to drink the coke from the glass. He let a chunk of ice fall into his mouth and crunched down hard on it.

"The difference between you and Wendyl and me is you and Wendyl were retired from your music days. No one talks about 'Moop' anymore. 'Craig Tucker' is a household name," Craig pointed out. "You weren't making hard rock for the radio. You two are activists for animals. One of those lends itself well to a non-binary person and their bisexual husband — and it's not the first one."

Stan rolled his eyes. "That sounded like an insult, but you're feeling like shit so I'll let it slide." He sucked a breath through his teeth. "Craig, dude, I really wish I could help you out here, but...I don't know. I don't think your career is over. You're overreacting. You can still make money as a country star. It'll be rough as hell these next few months, but if you just keep on keeping on, it'll be fine. Show everyone you accept yourself for you and don't care what anyone else thinks."

"Besides, " He rolled his wrist as he spoke, "someone will do something else, have an affair, use a slur in an interview, die, and everyone will move on. It's the music industry. They have the attention span of a gnat."

Craig grunted, burying his face in his arms. Why did he think Stan would actually be able to help him? A country star being gay was a totally different ballpark than a rock star going on a drunken stupor in his underwear through New York.

"So you vote for going out on Twitter and telling everyone myself then? Is that what I'm hearing?" Craig asked as he peeked up to stare past Stan towards the stage.

The folk band finished their set and bowed to the applauding crowd. From the little bits Craig had paid attention too, the folk band wasn't that bad, but the violinist and guitarist needed to work on their harmonies together. They clashed more often than not, fighting each other for the melody with their  volume and drowning out the other members.

Stan shrugged. "I guess. At least it's from your mouth and not your ex's."

A single singer with a guitar came on stage now. He was handsome: soft blond hair, round face, a little chubby. Half of him screamed 'country singer', the other half...didn't. He had on a green-gray striped western shirt, brown vest, and a worn cowboy hat above the hips. On the other hand, below the hips, he had on beat up, dirty Converse sneakers and washed out skinny jeans with intentional holes in the knees.

Craig sat up a little to stare at the singer. He whistled quietly.

"Guess if everyone is going to know, it doesn't matter if I stare, does it? Damn." Craig nodded to himself. "He's a mess, but...damn."

Stan followed his gaze to the stage as the singer introduced himself as 'Tweek'. He didn't have the accent Craig was used to hearing from country singers.

"Oh, him? He's a nice guy, actually. Little too anxious, but ok voice nonetheless," Stan told him. "He must want to do country covers tonight. Usually, he wears a normal button up, but not when he sings Conway Twitty and Johnny Cash."

"He ever covered any of my songs?" Craig questioned.

"Yes and no," Stan smirked, "he rarely does any modern country songs. Not unless he really likes them, but I've heard him sing 'You Never Even Called Me By My Name' before."

Craig mock punched Stan in the arm, making him spill part of his Sprite. Stan glared at him before reaching for a napkin to mop up the mess.

Tweek nodded to a man sitting next to the stage to hit play on a recording. The opening piano began as he strummed, tapping his foot. He took a breath and began to sing.

"The bar was empty. I was sweeping up the floor."

Even hearing only the first line, Craig could tell this man had none of the twang that gave the song some of its charm. His voice also didn't go quite as low as Brad Paisley's did naturally, either. He was about to mention this to Stan when Tweek sang the next line, and Craig froze.

"That's when he walked in. I said, 'I'm sorry but we're closed."

"He changed the pronouns," Craig muttered to himself. Stan smirked again at him before shushing Craig with a finger to his lips.

After that, Craig listened more closely. All throughout the entirety of 'We Danced', Tweek kept changing the pronouns from 'she' to 'he'. He even, albeit somewhat clumsily, changed a few other words and phrases as well ('purse' to 'wallet' and 'diamond ring' to 'golden band') confirming that he was singing this song about a man.

"He's not bad," Stan leaned back to speak, "don't you think?"

"Yeah, I mean," Craig shook himself, but it didn't do as much as he hoped, "it's ok. He's ok. He's singing a bit lower than I think he can comfortably do, but he holds the notes nicely and...yeah. He's ok."

Stan chuckled, giving Craig a knowing smile that Craig ignored, instead focusing on Tweek. The crowd clapped when Tweek finished his song before he started up another. Through his entire set, he changed the songs the same way.

After Tweek finished his last cover of 'As She's Walking Away'--'As He's Walking Away'? Craig wasn't sure--he thanked the audience, "Um, thank you, everyone. Have a good night and be safe getting home. Call a cab if you need it." He waved and headed off the stage.

Craig started to get out of his chair before he could help himself. Stan put a hand on his stomach.

"Do you want to meet him?" Stan asked, his eyes glittering.

"W-what?" Craig blinked. He straightened up and quickly took his seat. He sat in the corner of the bar to avoid being identified for a reason.

"Do you want to meet him?" He repeated. "I know Tweek. I can introduce you if you'd like."

Craig narrowed his eyes. "Was this planned, Marsh? Did Red set this up?"

"Happy accident." Stan laughed, jumping from his seat. "Come on, Tweek usually cools down after being on stage out back with his friend, manager, person, Jimmy."

Craig raised an eyebrow but stood anyway to follow Stan out.

~~~~

Tweek and another man sat on the tailgate of a pickup truck that needed a new paint job, new tires, and a new passenger side window. Tweek raised a beer to whatever his friend said with a grin.

"Hey! Tweek, Jimmy! Hey!" Stan waved his arm. "Good show, Tweek."

"Thanks, but it wasn't that good." Tweek took a sip of his beer. "It went ok. I think I sped up a few songs and choruses. Not that that's fully my fault. I was going to sing a different set, but Jimmy brought the wrong CD." He sent a glare at Jimmy, who looked away embarrassed.

"I think it went over w-w-w-well," Jimmy told him matter-of-factly. "Besides, you don’t have 'The M-M-Miss-Missip...' The Squirrel Church Song down yet anyway."

"'Squirrel Church Song'?" Craig stepped around Stan and the two on the tailgate took notice of him for the first time. "You don't mean that Ray Stevens' song, do you?"

Tweek nodded, looking him over as he tried to figure out where he'd seen Craig before.

"Yeah, The Mississippi Squirrel Revival.'" Snapping his fingers to the beat, he sang, "The day the squirrel went berserk in the First Self-Righteous Church--"

"In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula," Craig joined in. Jimmy's eyes grew wide as he made the connection between Craig's voice and his face. His mouth fell open.

With shared grins, the two singers finished the chorus, "It was a fight for survival, that broke out in revival! They were jumpin' pews and shouting 'Hallelujah'!"

Jimmy put his hand on Tweek's arm. "Tweek, that--"

"I know, Jimmy, I know." Tweek rolled his eyes. "I don't have the voice for anything too gospel. Let me have my fun, dude. I'm not on stage."

"No, Tweek, do you know who this is?" He jabbed a finger at Craig. "That C-Cr-Cra-Craig Fucking Tucker!"

Tweek let out a strangled 'WHAT?!' and dropped his beer can. Stan frowned and leaned down, making sure to set it beside Tweek. If Tweek hadn't started yammering on, Stan would have told them to recycle the can when they were done.

"I sang a fucking comedy song with a music star?" Tweek gasped. "Fuck! A professional musician heard me sing on stage? When I was singing a set I hadn’t really practiced!?" His eyes went wide and he stared down at the holes in his knees then groaned, slumping down. " While wearing skinny jeans and a cowboy shirt...!"

Jimmy laughed nervously, waving his hands in front of Tweek.

"He's usually much better than this. It's the beer. I swear." Jimmy forced a smile that Craig could tell was fake. It was the same one Red used when she had to give an answer to a bullshit question to save face.

Stan set a hand on Tweek's shoulder. "Sorry. Should have texted you first before bringing him out, but Craig really enjoyed your show. He wanted to meet you."

"'Meet me'?" Tweek squeaked. "Why?"

Craig shrugged. "Just because." He gestured. "Can I take a seat? Do you mind?"

Jimmy lifted himself up and moved over, exposing a pair of crutches behind him in the bed that Craig hadn't noticed before. Craig sat between them, leaving Stan to use the wheel to hoist himself up and sit in the bed. He accidentally kicked the crutches when he spread his legs out.

"Hey, watch it!" Jimmy scolded. "T-those are new, thank you very much."

"Sorry, Jimmy."

Tweek made a high pitched noise then coughed into his hand. "So, what's a big star like you doing in a bar like this?"

"Is that a pick up line?" Stan asked coyly, making Tweek picked up the empty can and mockingly toss it at him. It missed by a mile and bounced against the metal bed with a clang.

"Stan was a big star before he was an everyday, boring family man." Craig smirked at the glare Stan gave him. "We're friends. I wanted to visit him for the night while I was around."

"Oh, right, Moop. I forget someti..." Tweek trailed off when he realized just how offensive his comment sounded. "Well, that's nice of you to stay in touch with your friend."

"Don't know if I'd go as far as 'friend'..." Stan grumbled, taking out his phone.

They chatted for the next hour or so and Craig learned a lot about Tweek and Jimmy. Jimmy hosted an internet show where he brought what he believed to be up and coming talent on to showcase their skills. Tweek, being his good friend, was the first guest he brought on (or, as Tweek put it 'tricked into a recorded video chat').

Tweek himself had his own channel where he posted covers of whatever song caught his fancy. Just a quick, discrete skim of the YouTube channel confirmed it to Craig. Tweek really did post a little of everything: country, classical, Broadway musicals, folk, rock.

Craig wondered if he was still trying to find his niche or not, and Tweek replied with a shrug.

"My therapist told me to do what makes me happy, and different types of music make me happy," Tweek explained.

"You know what would make me happy? A drink." Jimmy twisted around for his crutches. "Anyone else?"

"I'm good." Tweek shook his head.

Stan opened his mouth to decline when Craig tapped his leg. He flicked his eyes towards Tweek then moved his head a little.

Stan understood, thankfully, and stood up in the bed.

"Craig put tetwenty n on my tab, so I'm getting another Sprite. All drinks are on me whether you want a can or not." He leaped over the side and landed with a stumble on the ground. Quickly correcting himself, he dusted off his pants as if he hadn't nearly landed on his nose.

Tweak looked from Craig than to Jimmy and Stan as they walked away. He chewed his lip and began to stand, calling to wait for him, when Craig cleared his throat.

"May I ask you a personal question?" Craig said quickly, trapping Tweek in a social protocol net.

Tweek twiddled his thumbs together. "Sure. I guess."

"When you sang, you changed the songs. They sounded like you were singing to a man." Craig rested his chin in his palm. "Why is that?"

Tweek's face twisted into an angry, sour expression.

"Because I'm gay and I don't want to sing about girls. I want to sing about men." Tweek's voice came out low and warning. "I'm not making money off my covers or hurting people. It's fine."

Craig recoiled with a frown. "I never said it wasn't."

Tweek eyed his expression a second then frowned himself.

"Sorry. Most of the time when someone asks me that, it's directly followed by how ‘I should be ashamed of myself'." He rolled his eyes.

"Ashamed? For being gay? That's bullshit. It's nothing to be ashamed about." He sounded like a hypocritical anti-bullying program. Realizing this, he quickly added, "or should you be ashamed for singing country without a twang?" He saturated his voice with a deep southern accent on the last word, earning a smile from Tweek.

"Both, actually." Tweek snickered. "I've made some people pretty upset that I can't sing in an accent I don't have. People really like to give me shit for things I can't help."

Craig chuckled. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. Red was calling him.

"Oh, um, one minute, " Craig held up his finger, "and I'll be right back."

He took a few steps away from the truck before answering.

"Yes, cousin dearest?" Craig answered in a deadpan. "Any more news about my toppled career?"

"Depends. Have you decided what you're going to do?" Red asked from the other end of the line. "Are you going to see how the article turns out or are you going to out yourself?"

Craig hummed a minute. Red said the chance that they wouldn't run the article without the part where Thomas outed him was slim to none. That was too good of information for them to just sit on and never profit from.

"I think I'll tell my fans myself." Craig turned over his shoulder to look at the truck. Stan and Jimmy returned with cans in hand. Jimmy tossed one to Tweek, but he missed and it went under the truck.

"The magazine hits the shelves next week. If you're going to do it, you'll need to do it soon," Red advised. "Livestream, maybe. Or a series of heartfelt tweets. Make sure you mention something about God making you gay. That'll work in your favor."

Craig nodded, realized Red couldn't see him, then replied, "Got it."

"I'll start calling around. There will be plenty of news outlets who want to get the inside scoop on this. Tell me when you're planning on posting it. We need you to look in as best of a light as possible. See you, cuz."

She hung up before he could reply.

When he returned to the truck, Stan's legs stuck out from under it as he searched for the missing can. Tweek crouched beside him, holding his phone light out as Jimmy sipped his beer.

"I could just p-p-p-pull the truck forward, you know," Jimmy offered.

"No, I've nearly got it." Stan wriggled forward. "Ah-ha!" There was a thudding, then a dented can bounced out from under the truck. Tweek tried to grab it, only to fall forward into the dirt.

Craig stooped down and plucked the can up. He winced and held it away from himself. Opening the beer would shower everyone around after all the shaking it had endured. He wasn’t risking it.

Stan's head popped up, dusty and a mess, before he hauled himself up onto the tailgate. Craig handed the beer to Jimmy, who, thankfully, had enough sense not to open it.

"Stan, I need to go." Craig shook his phone for emphasis. "Red has a game plan for...what's going to happen."

"Oh, does she?" Stan patted his hair out. "I'd offer to take you to get Wendyl's help if you want it, but I'm driving these knuckleheads home."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "We're fine. Tweek is sober as a saint."

"He had a beer when we walked out," Stan countered.

"He spilled half of it."

"Half a beer is still a beer!" Stan snapped. "You're not drunk driving on my watch."

Craig stepped forward. "I'll drive Tweek home if he wants."

Only after the suggestion left his mouth did he realize how strange that must have sounded. Craig barely knew Tweek from Adam. What reason did he have to offer to help Tweek when he already said he had something else to do?

Tweek took a step back. "I rode with Jimmy here. I can squeeze in or I'll sit in the bed. It's fine. Thank you though."

"No, really, let me take you home. I'm a good driver, I swear."

"No, I'll ride with Stan. He knows the way there already."

"Please?"

Jimmy narrowed his eyes. "He said no, dude. Let it d-drop."

Craig swallowed nervously. "Ok, I guess I have to get used to saying this but listen..."

It was hard to breathe suddenly. His face felt hot. His hands were sweating.

"Yes?" Tweek frowned.

"Listen, I, uh, I..." He hissed a breath out. "My ex-boyfriend outed me to a very popular magazine that is going to out me to the public in a week. My manager suggested I steal some of the magazine's thunder by coming out as gay myself. I would like someone with a little more expertise in this subject than I have to offer suggestions on how I should go about doing this bullshit."

Tweek's mouth hung open, as did Jimmy's. Stan picked up his Sprite can and took a long drink.

"Breathe, Craig. Don't pass out, now. You'll get used to saying it after a little while." He raised his Sprite to him. "Be brave, brother."

Craig ignored him, but did take a deep breath and force his lungs to expand.

"Well? If you don't want to, it doesn't matter that much." Craig tensed despite himself.

Tweek chewed his lower lip. "I, um, do you want my number? I have work tomorrow, so I do need to get home and sleep tonight. We can talk after work, if you want?"

Craig relaxed. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, man."

Stan snorted to himself and shook his head at his drink. Craig resisted the urge to flip him off again as he pulled up a new contact. He and Tweek then exchanged phones.

For a brief moment, Craig wanted to add a heart to the end of his name as the contact, but he shook off the thought as silly and inappropriate. He wasn't going to rebound with a random guy at a bar to get back at Thomas. At least, not until he read the article or got a call back.

Though Red told him not to get his hopes up, he still held onto the dream that Thomas hadn't betrayed him and they could work through this together.

Handing Tweek back his phone, Craig pocketed his.

"I do need to go, too, actually." He said with a thumb jab over his shoulder. "I'll text you tomorrow?"

Tweek nodded but didn't speak. He stared at Craig for a second too long before averting his eyes.

Craig smiled to himself and turned to leave, suddenly feeling a little better about his future.

~~~~

Tweek panicked, pacing circles around his living room.

Stan planned this. That fucker had to. Him or Wendyl. Both of them encouraged him to "settle down" every other time they saw him, and last night Stan just so happens to introduce him to an available, handsome, music star who wants Tweek's advice?

There was no way that was all coincidence!

Tweek fretted about this meeting all day, ever since Craig texted him that morning asking when he could come by.

Why did he agree to this? Tweek had been out since he was a teenager! He hadn't had to hide that he was gay from anyone since becoming semi internet famous.

Jimmy featured him in his LGBTQ creators to follow video last June for fuck's sake! Tweek wasn't able to help Craig with this!

Someone knocked, tearing Tweek from his thoughts.

Vowing that the next time he went to visit Stan, he would slip Stan's children an excessive amount of sugary treats, Tweek dragged his feet to the door.

Craig looked the epitome of a modern country star: striped button up with the first three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, jeans from a brand that Tweek knew he could never afford, a wooden cross hanging from a leather cord around his neck, and even a cowboy hat.

He had deep bags under his hazel eyes, which Tweek refused to look at for too long. He didn't want to risk being caught admiring the flecks of gold-brown in his iris.

"Hey," Tweek stepped aside and allowed him in, "Craig. How are you?"

"Tired." Craig rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. "My cousin woke me at five in the morning to talk about ideas for telling my fans I'm gay." He reached into his chest pocket to produce a folded sheet of lined paper. "Here's what we got."

Tweek took it but didn't open it. With a wave of his hand, he led Craig through his kitchen. Kiwi, Tweek's bird, raised his head from cleaning his feathers. He twittered at Tweek, walking across the table towards him. Tweek took the bird in his hand. He stroked his feathers as he returned him to his cage in the living room.

"Take a seat," Tweek said before he whistled at Kiwi. Kiwi chirped back then fluttered to sit on a high perch and preen himself in a mirror.

Craig slid onto the couch while Tweek went to his desk chair on the other side of the coffee table.

"Is that bird yours?" Craig eyed Kiwi.

"Yeah. That's Kiwi. My grandma couldn't keep her parrot when she moved, so my parents said I would take her. So I got her budgie, but budgies do better in pairs, so I bought Kiwi to go with my grandma's parrot--oh, her name was Apples. Get it? Apple and Kiwi? She was more yellow than Kiwi is, but," Tweek realized he was babbling and quickly finished his ramble, "Apples passed away last month, so it's just Kiwi now. I'm getting another budgie in a month or two, though. Do you have a pet?"

Craig perked up, some of his tiredness fading. He took his wallet from his pocket. Like a proud father, he flipped it open to reveal a picture of three guinea pigs: a long-haired brown one, a cream colored one with a stripe, and a black and white one.

"This is Petunia," He pointed to the long-haired one. "This is Astro." He moved his finger to the black and white one, "And finally Stripe the Sixth." He tapped the cream colored one.

"‘Sixth'?" Tweek echoed. "What happened to one through five?"

Craig closed his wallet. "Got into the Easter basket, Mom stepped on him, my friend's dog, old age, and old age," he counted off. "I've been keeping them as pets since I was five."

"Anything else?" Tweek sat, setting the paper Craig gave him on the table top.

"What, do you want me to name off pet names for forty head of cattle or a horse?" Craig chuckled and Tweek turned his full attention to his feet. "It's fine, Tweek. I don't own hooved animals."

"Oh, really?" Tweek swallowed. They should change the topic before Tweek made himself look like a complete fool. "We should get started now."

"Sure, if you're ready." Craig pointed to the paper. "Like I said, we spent all morning on it, but you should look over it and make sure we didn't leave anything out."

Tweek didn't touch the paper. "Do the people close to you know? Your parents? Siblings? Best friends?"

Craig blinked in surprise. "Y-yeah? Of course. I told my sister and friends in high school, and I told my parents in college. They know. Why does that matter?"

"Would you want to find out someone you thought trusted you didn't trust you enough to tell you something like they're gay?"

Craig thought on that a moment. "I guess not," He said.

Contented, Tweek finally unfolded the paper. Craig leaned closer, pushing his hat back a little, as he watched Tweek read.

The paper was...something. Tweek couldn't decide what. At times it really did feel heartfelt, but, at times, it also sounded like a celebrity's forced apology.

After reading it once, Tweek stood up and went to his desk. He returned a moment later with a pad of paper and a pencil. As Craig watched him with his eyebrows raised, Tweek organized the parts by level of sincerity.

When he finished, he spun the pad towards Craig and tapped the column with the least sincere sounding parts.

"Can you cut these?"

Craig furrowed his brow as he looked over the lines.

"But, those are important." Craig shook his head. "If I don't mention I'm sorry for hiding it from my fans, they'll get upset and feel betrayed."

"Are you sorry?"

"Yes," Craig replied automatically, robotically. Tweek fixed him with a probing look.

"They're not the ones hiding part of their lives. Their lives aren’t being judged for nothing. You don't owe them an apology," Tweek smiled softly at Craig. "Actually, a lot of these lines here are about your fans. I think only this one about working to make a better future and honest music with them sounds genuine."

Craig pursed his lips. He took a breath and blew it out. The breath whistled through his teeth.

"Why does it have to sound genuine?"

"Because if not, it sounds pandering." Tweek quipped, ripping the organized lines from the pad. As he began to rewrite the speech from scratch, Craig took off his hat and looked down into it with a serious expression on his face.

When he finished, Tweek pushed the pad over. "What do you think of that?"

Craig placed his hat back on, then skimmed the speech. He furrowed his brows and looked up.

"This is good. Really good."

Tweek shrugged, trying to hide the pride he felt.

"Is this how you came out? Did you say these things?" Craig wanted to know, taking a picture of the new script with his phone.

Tweek shook his head. "No. I just blurted it out during dinner one night. Mom and Dad were talking about road work messing their morning drive up and I just shouted ‘I'm gay!' when my dad took a breath. I wanted to tell them for a while, but I could never find the right time." A chuckle and he went on, "Mom said she always kind of knew. Dad said ‘that's nice.' They went right back on talking about the road work."

Craig snorted a laugh. "Really? Your parents sound very chill about it." A sigh. "I hope my fans will be, too."

Tweek reached over and put a hand on Craig's shoulder. "I'm sure they will be. If not, it's not your problem they're homophobes." He squeezed. "Things are really different from a decade ago. Not nearly as many people as you expect will give you flack for kissing boys."

Craig looked up at Tweek's smiling face and returned the expression. He set his hat beside him and pointed towards Kiwi's cage.

"Do you think I could get a better look at your bird? I need a break from all this already, and I do like small animals."

Tweek nodded and promptly jumped to his feet to retrieve Kiwi.

~~~~

Petunia napped on Craig's stomach while Stripe the Sixth munched on hey beside his head. Astro settled himself against Craig's ankle for a snooze.

Red looked over her cousin with a sigh. Her husband, Kevin, tried to peek around her shoulder. Like Craig, Red was taller than average, so Kevin had to step to the side to get a clear view of Craig on the floor of his pet pen.

"Craig, get up."

"Can't. Babies are sleeping." Craig muttered, keeping his own eyes shut. "Just tell me what you think of Tweek's revisions."

Red glanced at the paper in her hand then back up.

"I liked them," Kevin proclaimed. "They sound more...real than what you two had."

"‘Pandering' to the fans is what Tweek said," Craig smiled to himself, "and he wasn't wrong."

"I still think we should focus more on the ‘God made you gay’ bit. I found some verses we could use." Red tapped against her phone.

"I don't want to read Bible verses, Red." Craig slowly opened his eyes. Careful of Petunia, he picked up Stripe the Sixth and held him over his face. Tapping their noses together, Craig went on, "I actually really like how it is now. Short, to the point. It's perfect for me."

Red sighed through her nose before stepping over the low fence. She sat down next to Craig with her legs crossed before plucking Petunia from his stomach to pet in her lap. Petunia looked around after being woken up, pipped once, then snuggled back down into Red's lap.

"I just don't want this to blow up in your face. You've come so far, Craig. I don't want you remembered as ‘that country singer who came out gay and never broke the top twenty again.'"

Craig set Stripe on his chest, scratching the pig's back. He knew that Red was worried. This industry was quick to blow something small out of proportion, destroy someone's life, then move on like it never happened.

"It'll be fine," Craig reassured.

Kevin stepped into the pen now. He bent down and stroked Astro's back. "If you're honest with everyone, I think people will appreciate that," He said. "People like sincerity."

Craig hummed, slowly sitting up.

"Had me my script. I want to read over it again."

He didn't need to read it over. After leaving Tweek's yesterday, he'd been practicing it repeatedly until he could say it it verbatim without looking.

In truth, he just liked Tweek's handwriting. It was a little shaky, but loopy and fun to follow along with his eyes. Craig wondered if he could convince Tweek to write a song with him after the tenth read over, if just so he could read a little more of his handwriting.

He'd listen to some of Tweek's original songs on his channel the night before. They all had a definite show tune quality to them, but Craig figured they could mix their styles. That would be refreshing, to say the least.

He paused a moment, the smile he let on his face falling, to ask, "Red, have you heard any more from Thomas? He still isn't answering my calls."

Red shook her head. "No, nothing else. I'm sorry."

"No, if he wants to hide, then I don't care," Craig grumbled.

He didn't have much more to tell him anyway. The morning before he went to go see Tweek, he'd left Thomas a voicemail telling him they were over. Even if Thomas did gather up his balls enough to call him back, Craig wasn't sure he'd even answer.

Astro woke up and climbed on Kevin's legs as Kevin asked, "Do you have a date for this? The magazine publishes in less than a week."

"Tomorrow," Red answered before Craig opened his mouth. "This happens tomorrow. A live stream, I think, would be best. Butter them up with your guinea pigs," she held up Petunia, "then break the news."

Sitting up, Craig held Stripe to his chest. "Yeah, I guess that'll work." He stood, stretching his back until it popped. "Come on, Stripe, let's go practice while Aunty Red and Uncle Kevin set up my living room and make everything as down-homey as possible."

Red's head snapped up. "We never agreed to that!"

"Oh no, I can't hear you. I'm out of the room. I'm so far away now," Craig deadpanned, keeping his voice at the same level as he left to go practice.

~~~~~

AN: Chapter 2

#sp creek #fanfiction #tweek tweak #craig tucker #stan marsh #jimmy valmer #sp red #kevin stoley #revin #multichapter #I did like ZERO rresearch on how music insdustry works. That wasn't the point of this fic to be accurate

[rontra]

ANONYMOUS ASKED:

i really like mwot and was wondering, do you wanna talk/loredump/etc about mwot during this blessed month of pride? (if not that's totally cool!!! i really like the au and am curious about it!)

REPLY:

YES!!!!

umineko spoilers below and LONG POST KSDJDKSKD i really went infodumping......you got me right in an infodumping mood....

also im being very casual in this post so if something is like weird or vague its probably because i got tired of thinking about it and skipped ahead. SKJDSJD

mwot is an umi au and its very gay and very trans because i, a gay trans, decided it was TIME to INDULGE

LIKE A MOUNTAIN WIND FALLING ON OAK TREES also known as MWOT, MW/OT, Mountain Wind + Oak Trees, MW+OT, or literally any combination of its parts, is an eva/natsuhi au, set in a vague modern big city setting

https://rontra.tumblr.com/tagged/mountain-wind-oak-trees

it’s a comedy, mostly? it has elements of backstory transphobia and  stuff like that but that’s not really the story i want to tell with it, so  i don’t go too deeply into it in the main fic. it’s mostly comedy and Self Care: The  Story (once these nerds get around to acknowledging that self care is  good, anyway!!!!)  

Eva is 20, nb lesbian (though she doesnt know half of it to begin with). generally a bitchard at the beginning but also deeply craving that Validation. Invested in making the fic harder to write due to pronoun shenanigans (shoutout to the lengthy section of intimate emotional scenes that uses no pronouns at all for eva but is narrated by them in 3rd person)

Natsuhi is like 21 i guess because im a sucker for her having like an annoying 1-3 years on eva bc eva would get mad about it. Also she’s trans, gray-ace, hopeless romantic, generally full of “quickly raising your eyebrows and looking away while sipping your drink and thinking Yikes” energy. weaponizes indifference but is no stranger to harder means. she’s a smart cookie

Sayo is also 20, gender clown car living her best life. Presents differently depending on mood and whim

krauss is like 22 or whatever. for housekeeping’s sake, rosa and rudolf are too young to matter (8 and 10, or something like that). dont even worry about it

honestly the weirdest part of the au is eva and sayo being the same age

also this au is the origin point of me & my friends using akikaze as nat’s maiden name. the more you know!

-

USHIROMIYA GOLD dishes up that yellow metal like you wouldn’t believe. led by kinzo whos so fuckin good at sniffing out that sweet sweet gold people are half convinced the man has psychic powers. Any piece of land he’s got his eyes on, he WILL get his hands on, no matter who owns it right now.

the land kinzo wants At The Moment is owned by the AKIKAZE FAMILY who have been notably on the decline recently. they’re in the economic shithole so this land is basically all they’ve got right now, so when kinzo wants it and it suddenly Has Value, they’re like “oh, shit,

anyway the deal basically shakes out that like, he gets the land and all the gold that may or may not be in it. he offers his eldest son in exchange for this land, to marry their daughter: in the bonds of marriage graciously ensuring a part of the winnings will spill over on them, while keeping them under his control without money coming into the picture.

Everything’s working out great and coming up kinzo. the deal is closed and everyone’s happy (i guess). until ONE DAY, just a few narrow weeks before the akikaze girl is set to move in with the ushiromiyas,

KINZOS

OLDEST

SON

DISAPPEARS

!!!!!

Krauss dislikes being told what to do, and his father’s ideals never lined up with his own. He thinks this entire thing is sort of fucked up and can’t live under his dad’s thumb anymore. That's why, immediately following Kinzo’s agreement with the Akikaze family, Krauss disappears. He’s just kinda left for greener pastures, to unfold his own life and pursue his own interests independent of the Ushiromiya name. He leaves behind a letter explaining it & basically he forfeits both name and inheritance, and Kinzo’s incredible deal is suddenly in jeopardy.....

obviously this is kinzo though, and all of his solutions are like, 20 times more complicated than they have to be? he’s DETERMINED to have this land so he’s like “i need an eldest son. shit rudolf is only like 9. fuck. well okay i have an eldest daughter with a deeply complicated need for validation and success entirely driven by her overall neglect at my hands“ and the rest. as they say. is history (???)

Ushiromiya Eva always saw Krauss as unworthy of the inheritance, and to her, his disappearance confirms this. She grew up always being made to feel inferior to her older brother, usually being ignored in favor of him, and it's bred a complex need for validation in her. Her values and strengths are more like Kinzo’s than her brother’s, and Kinzo recognizes this in the wake of Krauss’ disappearance.

basically he concocts this really wild scheme where eva has to pretend to be his oldest son and marry this girl or whatever so he can seal this stupid gold deal and she’s like “well lol if i get to be family heir” and hes like “yes that’s what im saying” and shes like “awesome let’s do it”

all of the servants are in on it too of course. specifically kinzo enlists SAYO who works there as normal staff and isn’t otherwise tangled into this family’s mess in any way whatsoever. she’s just here to serve tea and looks. anyway he’s like “you work on this with eva--i mean evan, my son, you must have misheard--and eva you have to listen to whatever yasuda says” and eva is like “that last part will not be frustrating for me at all”.

Yasuda as reigning Household Gender Presentation Expert is like “i think i just got orders from the master to bully eva?” and eva is like “i wish i could fire you but my dad just banned me from doing that” and then gradually...over the course of the project......they become....friends.........

(the au is tagged eva & sayo for a reason. they become FRIENDS!!)

mostly its just various combinations of shkanon dunking on eva and its all VERY good.

during all these shenanigans we make some startling realizations like “gender euphoria is a hell of a drug” and stuff, which is extremely harrowing for everyone (note: not for everyone. just for eva, who makes 10,000 realizations every day, and should not have been counted.)

(ok sidenote did anyone else put on their first binder & go like “hmmm. i live here now” because. mood. im projecting entirely into this fic)

Gender Clown Car yasuda (currently as lion) is like “you know there’s like more than 2 genders” and eva’s like “you fucking wehat”.

i also make a REALLY INVOLVED JOKE ABOUT CASTIGLIONI GOLD, THE RIVAL COMPANY, and how BEATRICE’S KID LOOKS A LOT LIKE LION, and EVERYONE thinks this is all VERY funny

(i would like to see it. also kinzo owes beatrice castiglioni $20 and she’s never let him forget it.)

now wrapped up in this stupid impostor scheme AND full of big wild nonbinary energy AND!! WITH AN INFURIATING NEW FRIEND!! IN THE STAFF!!! this one funky ushiromiya is all ready to get in on an arranged marriage or whatever. provided NO ONE EVER FINDS OUT that they’re faking it and replacing the Actual Heir, which would no doubt ruin the scheme AND bring kinzo’s wrath on everybody involved, of course.

-

AKIKAZE NATSUHI IS READY TO PUNCH HER FIANCE IN THE THROAT IF HE EVEN LOOKS AT HER but she understands what’s happening here. she knows she didn’t have a say in this from the very beginning. that the deal was sealed for her as soon as the name “ushiromiya” was said. she knows her family married her off quick in a bid to get rid of her. if she’s humiliated by this ordeal, she is far too proud to show it. she packs her bags and walks into the mansion with her head held high........and immediately has this exchange with her fiance

and this one

so that’s kind of the energy we’re going for with these two.

(natsuhi’s line in the second cap was going to be removed for being Way Too Intense, but everyone i talked to said it was too hot to cut, so i decided to indulge us all. blame the lesbians)

they IMMEDIATELY don’t get along but they kinda agree to like, mind their business, since neither of them are interested in playing house here. if they can get the wedding to go off without a hitch they can basically go back to never talking to each other again.

natsuhi’s entire angle here is essentially: her family was not that good, and this family likely won’t be better, BUT here she has a chance to build something new for herself. she’ll be out of her parents’ house. She needs this deal to stay for her own sake, but she has to get out ahead of her husband and set up a dynamic that favors her. when she meets evan she essentially gauges the kind of person she’s dealing with and picks her approach accordingly: this is not a soft man, and she has to be hard in turn to avoid being steamrolled.

and its VERY hot

anyway some stuff happens and it eventually they both sorta get each other’s secrets. eva is not the firstborn son and natsuhi is not the card kinzo thought he was pulling from her family’s hand and theyre both toast if word hits the public. directly after the wedding they establish a tense alliance of keeping each others’ secrets....

and then they.....fall...in l

there’s some fun tensions and realizations. eva is like “so im quickly catching on that no praise i ever received from dad was on my own merit and he’s kind of a dirtbag all around and his validation is kind of not worth it” and nat is like “word our parents are chains” & they run kinzo over with the down w cis bus. it’s fine. they get postcards from krauss sometimes. he has a motorbike now.

DID I MENTION THE PRACTICE KISSING

BC THEY HAVE TO PRACTICE! FOR THE!! PUBLIC WEDDING!!!!

and thats mwot i guess. it’s my au where natsuhi’s accent color is red and some other stuff happens too. happy pride month

#mwot #second time's the charm

[gal-liveblogs]

So we start off Homestuck 2 with a picture of space. Got some green space clouds. So far nothing I would not expect. Though I see there also appears to be a spaceship of some kind, zooming through all this space. Would this be Dirk’s ship?

. . . Yep. That’s defiantly Dirk’s ship. I’m sure Theseus has some really deep, literary meaning, but the reference flies right over my head. As does most of Dirk’s references. He’s too smart for me.

I find it funny that Jake continues the tradition of emblazoning his face on his things. We saw his alt-self of Grandpa Harley doing at all the time. Dirk, of course, has to scribble out the face of his ex.

Dirk. Dirk, are you wearing a villain cape right now? Is that what you’re doing in this moment? Dirk, please.

He is totally wearing a villain cape, complete with tattered edges. He is also wearing a Heart gi, because Dirk is nothing if not anime.

Jesus Christ, I already see the paragraphs of orange under this. You’re gonna make me read all this, aren’t you. Dirk?

Dirk proves to be as verbose as ever.

So did Dirk really write out all his narration on physical pieces of paper and scatter them over his desk? Did he do that just to be Extra, or is that something he has to do as an Author now? Do they only count in the narrative text if they are actual text and not just his own thoughts?

Whatever the case may be, Rose interrupts his soliloquy.

I have it on authority that decanting is sometimes necessary to ensure a wine is at its best. I like to think that the same was ultimately true of her.

Decanting of a person’s soul sounds particularly ominous, thought I can’t express the exact reason why.

ROSEBOT: I just imagined you wearing an apron over your god tier outfit and almost felt my facial fuselage buckle in such a way as to approximate a fleeting smile.

Glad to see being a robot and also assimilating all her possible selves Rose remains a sass queen.

DIRK: Alright we get it you are literally a robot.

DIRK: No need to keep pointing it out every chance you can get. I got enough of this with the Auto Responder.

ROSEBOT: I'm just playing along.

ROSEBOT: One of the fundamentals of bad science fiction is that any artificial beings must make their inorganic nature known at every juncture they can.

DIRK: Do overly precise and completely meaningless statistics that you pull out of your ass on the fly also count?

ROSEBOT: Oh absolutely.

ROSEBOT: That's one of the first things you just sort of spontaneously learn when being booted up.

ROSEBOT: For example, I've calculated that by making these remarks I have raised the base level of amusement in all my conversations by 36%.

DIRK: Well I don't personally find them very funny.

Dirk has some trauma with robots pulling out bullshit statics. Which makes it all the more fascinating he continues to build robots that can have free thought.

Jesus Christ, it wasn’t just the lighting, Dirk’s shades really are orange now. Hussie may not have known about Kamina when he designed Bro, but Dirk always wearing Kamina glasses has just become a part of his character. So much so that they are even colored like Kamina’s instead of black now. I have to wonder, had Kamina not been a character that already existed or if people hadn’t kept pointing out that Dirk/Bro wore shades similar to an anime character, would Dirk be so anime? Is being anime just a character trait that Hussie gave him because of a funny coincidence and he wanted to play up the joke, or was he always intended to be so anime?

Also is that trashcan literally an inferno?

ROSEBOT: I just thought you might like to know that we're getting pretty close to your chosen crash site.

Do they not know how to land the ship? Does the ship not have landing gear? Do they need to crash for narrative reasons and otherwise would be perfectly capable of landing normally? Is Rose just making a joke?

DIRK: Wait, crash site??

Oh, good, Dirk is as confused as I am. So that rules out narrative reasons.

ROSEBOT: A landing gear appears to have fallen just a little outside the realm of vital.

So lacking landing gear it is! God damn it, Jake.

DIRK: (God DAMN it English.)

Ha!

ROSEBOT: Don't be such a chud, Dirk.

I am afraid to ask what a chud is. Is that like a cuck? I don’t know what a cuck is either. I am also afraid to ask what a cuck is.

ROSEBOT: She's functionally mortal, remember?

Yeah, that really sucks that Karkat, Terezi, and Kanaya all lack godtier. Karkat would complain about his lack of flight abilities, but I’m surprised Terezi or Kanaya never brought up this fact. Especially Kanaya, what with her marriage to Rose. Kanaya would eventually grow old and die, leaving Rose to keep on living. Of course, Rosebot has decided to leave her loving wife behind so in this particular case that point doesn’t matter.

DIRK: You mean to say that you don't think we'd be in peril if it came to it?

DIRK: There's nothing about our situation that strikes you as falling within the bounds of precarity, as far as the rules are concerned?

ROSEBOT: Oh. You're right. I suppose I hadn't thought of that.

ROSEBOT: But I think we can remain calm in the knowledge that nothing particularly heroic is going on right now. At least, not that I'm aware of.

DIRK: ... Right.

Not sure if Dirk’s meaning flew over Rose’s head, or if she’s just choosing to ignore the possibility of Just deaths as a joke.

That doesn't mean this (*gestures to the narrative*) isn't still going to be a thing, though.

I don’t know why, but this tickles my funny bone.

All in all I think you'll find, as far as narrators go, I'm an excellent... hm. On second thought, maybe that's a bit of a problematic phrase. Yeah, yikes, that one's got a sordid history. Best we steer clear of it. We're all lucky I'm around to make those kinds of sensitivity judgements on everyone's behalf.

I’m glad you can recognize that Homestuck fans all have a fight or flight response that that memetic phrase, but I don’t appreciate you patting yourself on the back for being sensitive when you, as a narrator, could not use Roxy’s correct pronouns once they came to light.

It's time to get this story back on the rails, back to what it was always supposed to be. I know it, and you've somehow always known it too. There was something else, some other route that Homestuck was meant to take but then didn't, a way that wouldn't've spent so much time dicking around with stuff nobody cares about. Like seriously, why did we all have to sit through talking about everyone's most intimate and private feelings for two hundred thousand fucking words. That would never have happened in Act 1. Where did it all go wrong?

So Dirk’s grand plan is to go back to the asinine tomfoolery of Act 1? To do away with character relations and feelings and have people messing around with their sylladexes? I must say, I never would have expected this from the likes of Dirk. I thought he was all about the complex thought processes and inner turmoil.

Thank you for returning the narration to classic black, Dirk. It’s so much easier on the eyes.

Channelling my full potential as an ascended player of Heart, I expand my consciousness to commune with the boundless force of collective willpower that is the internet.

Wow, who knew Heart players could become the internet. I mean, I guess it makes sense. The internet is just a collection of people, and Heart is all about the soul. 

I was really hoping the command box he made would be an actual command box. I missed out on the Homestuck days of old where the command box was a real thing. It would have been fun to be a part of that myself, but I understand the fandom is just too big for that ever to be feasible again. That’s why it was done away with in the first place, and that was when the fandom was smaller.

The writers came up with e good command, though.

Yeah, I have a feeling Dirk is going to decide to ignore this command and stop taking suggestions. Either that, or he’s going to inform us that he is not making Homestuck, he’s making Homestuck 2.

But I should have known better. People think you can run a story like this? This must be just about the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with. I'll just have to make up the commands myself from here on out. Seemed to work ok for the other guy.

Yep, pretty much what I expected.

Oh Jesus Christ, what even is this room?

O.K., let’s take things from the top. Looks like we got the beta kids’ entry items, as well as their Aspect flags from Prospit and Derse. Why does Dirk have these things? There also appear to be some cruxite dowels next to them, but they are any of the colors we’ve seen before.

WOAH, HOLD UP, Are those Dave’s copies of SBURB? Or are they Bro’s? Clearly Dirk has just collected a bunch of items from various points in Homestuck’s timeline like some sort of museum. For what purpose, though?

Oh my god, there’s a Tab watering can. I assume it was alchemized, since Dirk mentioned earlier using alchemy to make his rad new shades. I wonder why Dirk has that Skaianet poster on his wall. I would have thought he’d want nothing to do with anything Jake had his fingers in. Then again, there also appears to be a kotatsu with Jake’s bedspread in the middle of the room.

I can’t tell what the green thing is next to the mutated kitten. Or what that other green thing next to the robot horse is either.

OH FUCK ME THERE’S A ROBOT CAL IN THE PROCESS OF BEING MADE. DIRK, NO. WHY. YOU HAVE THE NARRATIVE CONTROL NOW, YOU SHOULD KNOW CAL IN ANY FORM IS BAD NEWS.

Is that... Is that an anime body pillow there at the bottom?

I also keep my FLORA OF THE SUCCULENT PERSUASION in here, so's I can keep an eye on them.

Dirk grows succulents... That is not a character trait I expected of him.

> Continue

#homestuck 2 #homestuck 2 liveblog #liveblog #gal liveblogs

[bucketoweasley]

Just Smile (George Weasley x reader

IMPORTANT EDIT PLEASE READ!: told y'all I would one day return to this mess..... Anyway you can find an updated and waaaaaaaaay better version here: @the-writers-reader

Requested by: @aboutpotter

Prompts: #18: Don’t just stand there looking at me

and

#31: You’re probably wondering how I got here

They requested a little Angst and fluff. I myself have never really wrote using either of those (at least I don’t think I have… *goes back to review everything I’ve ever written*) but as I go along I feel like I will get better… I also feel that when I come back and look at this story like a year from now I’m going to be in the next room a cringing mess. But now that all that’s out the way, I hope you enjoy!

(S/n)= sister's name

Warnings: Angst (?), fluff (?), *swearing*, and a bit o violence

If George could describe her in one word he would choose sullen. But in truth, it was just one out of many. Intelligent, conscientious, logical, anxious, beautiful, but sullen was is one of the top. The reason why: he had NEVER seen her smile. He had seen almost everyone at Hogwarts smile at least once. Even Snape. But never her. And he wondered why.  So he went to someone that would know the answer- (S/n). But all she did was sigh and say that things happen.

Thats when he decided to make it his personal mission to make (Y/n) smile. But not matter how many pranks he pulled on her, or jokes, dirty or corny, he told they wouldn’t even grin. Since (S/n) wouldn’t tell him he decided to ask her directly. But the only response he got was the cold shoulder which hurt… A LOT.

As she walked away he yelled, “I  SWEAR TO YOU, BY TIME I”M OUT OF HERE YOU WILL SMILE!”

And what reason did she have to smile in the first place. She could give you a long list of reasons no to smile. Being a muggleborn in SLYTHERIN why her sister was chillin with the twins in Gryffindor was not an easy task. What makes it worse is that they have no one.

George takes his seat at the Gryffindor table across from Fred and (S/n). Groaning, he lays his head down on the table with a ‘thud’. “What’s wrong with you, George?” (S/n) asked writing something down with Fred watching her paper intensely.

He sets his chin on the table so he could look at her. “Your sister. How can someone go that long without smiling?”

“She’s had it rough.”

“So you have said. What exactly do you mean by that?”

(S/n) sighs and sets down her quill. Neatly she folds her hands on the table like she was getting ready to spill some dark shit. “Her friends stabbed her in the back.”

George was shocked but it was Fred that let it be known. “What! Why?”

“It’s not possible to be friends with a muggleborn and date someone in the same house as you.” The twins looked confused. (S/n) rolled her eyes. “Her friends ditched her so they could get dates.”

The twins nodded their head understanding. Fred and (S/n) went back to eating (and in (S/n)s case- eating and writing) but George just stared at the table thinking. Suddenly, he stood up and started walking off. “Where are you going?” (S/n) asked.

“I’ll be right back. I have to go do something.” Fred and (S/n) were sure he was leaving the Great Hall but he had other plans. The hall went silent as he approached the Slytherin table. There wasn’t even any chatter coming from the professors as they watched with great interest. George could feel several eyes on him but he could care less.

(Y/n) looked up from her book to see why the hall had gone silent and was suddenly alarmed when she saw George walking towards her. All attention was on the two of them now.

“What are you doing, Weasley?” she whisper-yelled.

“Weasley? And to think we were friends.” That was enough to get a few people going. Whispers started to be exchanged throughout the Great Hall.

(Y/n) scoffs, “I don’t need or want friends.” A series of “oooo”s traveled around the hall.

“Fine, but you need you family. Your sister needs you.” He lied.

That caught the Slytherins attention. She loved her sister more than anything and would do anything for her. “Did she say why?”

George smirked. He knew he had her now. “She said it was important.”

Sighing, she gathered up their stuff and followed George. The Hall went silent again to the poing where you could hear a pen drop. She sat down next to George due to that being the only available seat. “You have something important to tell me?” (Y/n) asked. George suddenly grabbed her arm. She looked at him suspiciously but didn’t question it.

“Um,” she set her cup down and folder her hands. That was her thing- folding her hands before she spoke, “no, but I assume that’s what George told you to get you over here.”

(Y/n)’s jaw tightened in anger. She tried not to let it show but (S/n) noticed. “It is.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/n). Stop being such a grouch.”

“Oh, so I’m a grouch now, eh?” (Y/n) said slightly offended.

(S/n)s face softens. “No. It’s just- I haven’t seen a smile since the incident last year.”

(Y/n) sighs. “Trust me, (S/n), I have no reason to smile.” She stands up and slings her bag over her shoulder. Silently (pronoun) leaves not looking back though George prayed she would.

She never did.

George felt like this was all his fault. “Guys, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“This early?” (S/n) asked. She may have been the most clueless person at this table but Fred knew that face anywhere. He was going to follow (Y/n).

“Yeah, I actually have a big test tomorrow so I better get an early night.”

(S/n)s eyes went wide. “WE HAVE A TEST TOMORROW??!?!?!? BDJIBUDHIHYSFTDRTDFGH-” Fred motioned to George to leave and that he would take care of it.

What a nerd. But they loved her for it. (I love how when I wrote that part I got a message from my school about a Biology Exam that I knew nothing about and I freak but it ended up not applying to me)

George stopped to listen to what he was sure was voices. They were coming around the corner. When he peeked around he saw what he was looking for. He also saw someone that wasn’t supposed to be there. Graham Montague.

“Get the hell off me, Montague!” (Y/n) shouted trying to shove him away only for him to pin her roughly against the wall(FREEZE PERVERTS CAUSE THIS AINT WHAT YOU THINK).

“So you think its ok to just shove me out of the way you little, mudblood? Show some damn respect to those that are above you. Now, I think it’s best if you apologize for what you did to my friend.”

Now downright furious the girl makes a split second decision. Or should I say spit-second decision. Graham backs off a bit and wipes the spit off his cheek. Snarling, he backhands her causing her to drop her bag and fall to the ground.

“HEY!” George yelled gaining the attention of Graham and his gang.

“Oh, great, just what we need a Weasle-” Before he could finish George socked him in the jaw causing him to stumble.

“Never touch her again.” George growled daring one of them to try to make a move.

Graham scoffed and turned his snake like eyes towards (Y/n). “This isn’t over, mudblood.” He declared as he turned to stomp off with his gang hot on his heels.

George turned to (Y/n) to ask if she was alright but before he could ask he noticed the tears welling in her eyes. Alarmed, George walks over and starts inspecting her only for (Y/n) to push him away. “DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE?” she scoffs, “no you don’t. You’ve just made my life hell is what you’ve done. What they did just now was considered nice compared to what they’ve done to other people.”

“(Y/n), I was just trying to-”

“Oh save it! We can’t all be heros. Just… just leave.” She turns her head away waiting for him to leave. But he doesn’t. “Well? What are you waiting for? Don’t just stand there looking at me! Leave!” But George doesn’t budge.

“Why are you still here?!” George doesn’t know. Why is he still here? Instead of leaving he engulfs her in a hug. (Y/n) struggles a bit for the contact and wanting to get out of there but George was stronger and not to mention taller.

“Please don’t fight me.” His voice cracks. (Y/n) pauses.

“Then let me go.” she hisses. George obeys this time with a sigh. With a sad expression and a broken heart, he watched her walk away.

-------

“I thought you were calling it a night.” (S/n) says with a confused face. Her face goes to confusion to one of pure spite as George tells them exactly what happened.

“Well, I say we bloody push him back.” Fred said once George was done with his story.

“I doubt that would make it any better, Freddie.” (S/n) replied.

“Well, obviously, (S/n), that’s why I have a very well thought out plan.”

“Plan?”

“Yep! You see, and and Georgie here found something last week and we looked at each other and thought ‘this could come in handy’ and it seems it will.”

She looked between the twins confused. “But to do this we need you help.” George said in a pleading way.

“My help?”

“Yes! You see we have noticed that Graham Montauge has taken a special liking to you.” Fred said matter of factly.

“Huh?”

“He fancies you.” George concluded.

“What? You’re joking right?” She asks, her cheeks heating up. The twins grin. She looks between them again. “Ya know what, I don’t even want to know details, just tell me what I need to do.”

------

Tears ran down (Y/n)s face as she thought about what happened. She couldn’t help but thing that if she wouldn’t have left the table then she wouldn’t have ran into Graham and then none of this would have happened. She was so caught up in her thought that she didn’t pay much attention when the other side of her bed dipped down and someone snaked their hands around her torso. But she could care less. It was actually a bit comforting to know that at least some imaginary person at least cared. “Why can’t he understand that it would be easier for both of us if he just left me alone?” She asked the person as she stared down at her feet.

“Well it’s probably you don’t try to make him understand.” (Y/n) jumps up. She didn’t expect anyone to answer back. She turned around to find a tall figure with blazing red hair. And… in the girls dormitory? She couldn’t make out which twin it was through her blurry vision but assumed it was Fred. George wouldn’t even consider sneaking up here after the way she had treated him.

“You’re probably wondering how I got here.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “A little bit, yes.”

He stared at her wordlessly. So that was what her smile was like. Sure it wasn’t much but it was beautiful even in the state it was in.

“Fred? You good there?”

He snaps out of it. “Oh! Yeah!” Wait Fred? Oh! I guess she can’t see because she was crying. “Uh, George told us about what Graham did so we cracked a plan.”

“You mean you PRANKED him?!?!?” She asked now alarmed. As far as she knew she could kiss her sister goodbye and say hello to her new home: her grave.

“Of sorts. Last week me and George found a cabinet that makes things disappear, and ya see, Graham has a thing for that sister of yours. So,naturally, we got her involved. She lured Graham into the closet where we were waiting. Then, we forced him to give up the password to the Slytherin common room, which he wouldn’t do unless we put him in the cabinet. Of course, he wasn’t at all intimidated but then we demonstrated what it did which broke him. We originally promised to to throw him in but things happen and people change their minds.”

“Soooooooooo… where is he now?”

He shrugs, “Who knows. He could be anywhere in the school.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you got up here without anyone seeing or helping you.”

“I guess I have that Weasley charm.” He winked with a flip of his nonexistant long locks. “Sure, the girls were confused and very angry when I walked in but I buttered them up just enough so they smuggled me up here so there you have it.”

It took a moment but everything processed. “But, to be honest, you’re the last person I expected up here. Why didn’t George or (S/n) come instead?”

He looked absolutely offended but brushed it off. “Not important. Why were you crying just a minuet ago? I don’t thing George would be very happy seeing you like this.” Which was true, it broke George’s heart to see her like this but he couldn’t tell why. Deep down he knew he always liked her a but but he always denied and pushed it away. It was like this time he couldn’t.

“Your brother, actually… Swear to me you won’t tell anyone what you hear.”

George crossed his heart and opened his ears so he wouldn’t miss a word.

“Alright, don’t tell him I said this but he makes my life a living hell… and I can’t help but love him for it.”

“Love him?”

She lets out another shaky laugh and bites her bottom lip. ‘There it was again.’ George thought. “Yeah. I fancy him I suppose and he makes it so damn hard no to.” She pauses. “Why am I telling this to you again?”

He laughs a bit and stands up, towering over her. “I don’t know but you should smile more.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Why should I-”

“Because it makes it hard to fancy you too.” Her vision was totally clear now and only then did she realize who she had just spilled out her deepest darkest secret to. “G-George! I-” she tried to say something but ended up a studdering mess. What was she supposed to even say?

He cut her off with a peck on the lips. It was short, sweet and just enough to leave her in a state of shock. He smirked seeing what he had done to her. “ I told you I would make you smile, beautiful.” He winked before calmly leaving (Y/n) standing there like a idiot.

OH THANK GOD IM FINALLY DONE. I started writing this on monday in class and the very same time that I started the teacher assigned us a project to write a childrens book (ages 8-10) on a topic we were assigned. I got cellular respiration… i couldn’t even explain to my mom what that was. That and someone that I was very close to died the same day i decided to finish this so if it like going everywhere and whatnot THATS WHY. I actually have one that I wrote awhile back that I’ll think I will probably post sometime this week so be looking for that. Peace!

#george weasley #fred weasley #george wealsey x reader #slytherin #gryffindor #fanfiction #request #hogwarts #harry potter #weasley twins #weasley #graham montague