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#[ you know those plots that make you go 'jesus dream was counting on a lot of things to go exactly as he predicted here for this to
formshaper · 1 year
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you scared me to death .
- Morphy2
"Hm. Not quite."
Like their predecessor, this Dream is difficult to read - but unlike their predecessor, not always impossible. There's an air of humour in its speech, as if faintly amused by a private joke...
... but it could, of course, be one's imagination. Perhaps there was never any feeling in its voice at all.
Tall and ashen where he stands at the foot of Mieczysław's bed, Dream's robes are all colours at once, a blinding rainbow that only seems white when focused on. They seem to spill over the floor and into the air; they drift, like his hair, as if underwater when not looked at directly. He is as vague and as stark as his predecessor; just as strange and dreamlike, just as alien.
And yet something about him is so different.
"I have not come to frighten you, Mieczysław, nor have I come for the mere pleasure of it. I would ask... a favour of you. I would like you to keep an item safe for me. I will be... away for some time, and I should like it protected.
In return, I will give you whatever it is within my power to give you."
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mcflymemes · 2 years
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PROMPTS FROM STEP BROTHERS *  assorted dialogue from the 2008 film
this house is a fucking prison!
we're in the bathroom!
i don't believe in belts.
it usually starts by you telling me a little something about yourself.
i'm going to take a pillowcase and fill it full of bars of soap and beat the shit out of you.
this wedding is horse shit.
you guys have an outstanding track record.
i was faking. i used ninja focus to slow my heart rate down.
i smoked pot with johnny hopkins.
you're not gonna come down and say hi to me?
i thought we'd begin talking about your parents' divorce.
i want you out of my fucking house!
i just want you to know i hate you.
oh stop it!
i dont have to swear to shit!
you must feel just terrible.
i owe you an apology.
you gotta keep an eye on it.
you take that back.
we do it because we love you.
hey, can i ask you something?
this is my house now.
what do we do now?
you're failures!
i wasn't fired from my job. i was laid off.
whoa, calm down, man. i'm just joking.
you know what? i still hate you.
you were dead. i saw you die.
sweet jesus! i love korean food!
maybe someday we could become friends.
do you wanna do karate in the garage?
we could hug.
i didn't want the salmon! i said four times!
it sounds a lot like the plot of good will hunting.
how old were you when they got divorced?
why are you so sweaty?
this is what i live with!
this is just like cold case files!
get out of my face, or i'm gonna roundhouse your ass.
was that a fart?
in no way, shape, or form do i feel any feelings of intimacy towards you in any way whatsoever.
what if i were to tell you i could sell this house for 30% above market?
oh, i'm exhausted.
well that's fine.
i always wanted to be a dinosaur.
i can taste it on my tongue.
we're here to fuck shit up!
on the count of three, name your favorite dinosaur.
i swear, i'm so pissed off at my mom.
i remember my first beer.
we can bicker about this all night, but what's done is done.
i would follow you into the mists of avalon.
shut the fuck up!
you're alive! oh my god!
my little brother is even a bigger asshole than you are.
i'm just saying, you need to think about your options.
i'm not gonna call him dad.
did you touch my drum set?
he had the craziest look in his eyes.
you have the voice of an angel.
believe me, i've told him that.
hey, you're embarrassing yourself!
do you want to talk about some of those feelings?
we like to shit with the door open.
guess what? i hate you too.
now the tuxedos seem kind of fucked up.
you better not go to sleep, 'cause as soon as your eyes shut, i'm gonna punch you square in the face.
stop being a fucking dinosaur and get a job.
hey, you awake?
are you fucking crazy, man?
you're not feeling this?
i tea-bagged your drumset.
i know you two are technically married.
i'm not going to! ever!
my best friend is ben affleck.
look, i didn't touch your drum set.
okay, i'll be honest with you. i did fart.
you know what's good for shoulder pain?
we're putting the house on the market.
don't even think about it.
what's your problem?
i would've done the exact same thing.
did we just become best friends?
i feel like i'm smarter than most of the people who go there.
you and your mom are hillbillies.
it stinks. and this is a small room.
obviously... you don't know me.
my penis is tingling right now.
we make our own beef jerky.
you better not get in my face.
where are we moving?
ready? one, two, three.
i think it's time for a change. for both of us.
your voice is like a combination of fergie and jesus.
i know that we started out as foe.
i've seen him do it.
this house sucks ass.
the clown has no penis.
we are living the dream.
i'm just thinking about our life together.
what kind of dreams are you having?
shut up!
it was in international waters, so they couldn't prosecute him.
i hope you stay still when you sleep, 'cause i'm gonna put a rat trap between your legs.
why do you have randy jackson's autograph on a martial arts weapon?
you leave me money for pizza?
well what about us?
we literally have never done any of those things.
what's this all about?
shut your mouth!
what the fuck happened?
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makeste · 4 years
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BnHA Chapter 294: A Half-Assed Escape
Previously on BnHA: Mirio was all “SURPRISE I’M BACK THANKS TO OUR RESIDENT SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO RECENTLY EARNED HER BACHELOR’S OF BEING A TOTAL BADASS.” Kacchan was all, “you know what, Dabi’s been trending long enough, time to remind the fandom what a real G looks like,” and he blasted his little bleeding body back into the fray and was all “FROM HERE ON OUT CALL ME DYNAMIGHT!!” Mirio was all, “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... oh, you’re serious,” and Kacchan was all “!!”, and so that’s the story of how my son got murdered twice in one day. Meanwhile in the Todoroki Drama Zone, Deku was all “STOP MURDERING MY FRIEND” and Dabi was all “THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS” and fandom had a whole big debate about Whether Or Not Dabi Trying To Murder Deku’s Friends And Mentors Is Any Of Deku’s Business, which went exactly how you think it went. Anyway, so then Deku yelled at Dabi, and Endeavor was all moved by his manly words and randomly went to go uppercut Machia in the chin. And, seeing as how the Momoserum finally chose that exact moment to kick in, Machia is now down for the count.
Today on BnHA: The Miriosquad handles the Nearly High End Noumus, freeing up Jeanist to jasphyxiate (okay that one doesn’t really work so well) the rest of the League. Compress is all “TIME FOR THIS MILD-MANNERED SIDE CHARACTER VILLAIN TO SHINE”, except that by “shine” what he actually means is “use his quirk to punch a literal hole right through his own ass to free himself.” The rest of the chapter is basically just a back and forth between him and Jeanist, with Jeanist trying to recapture him, and Compress repeatedly thwarting him by chopping more holes out of himself because HE’S FRESH OUT OF FUCKS, AND THE ONES AT THE STORE ARE ALL SOLD OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS. Anyway, so with Compress basically dying and all, Horikoshi is all “you know what that means”, and delivers a freshly-baked villain flashback revealing that Compress is a descendant of Harima Ouji, a.k.a. the Peerless Thief, a.k.a. some famous guy whom Gentle mentioned this one time for like two seconds back in the day. The chapter ends with Compress finally demasking himself and dumping Tomura back onto the ground, a.k.a. The Worst Possible Place For Tomura To Be. ( •﹏•)
WHY IS CRUST HERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
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-- OH WAIT, SHIT. OH
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AIZAWAAAA you’re alive and receiving medical help thank GOD. HOW MANY EYES DO YOU HAVE. AND MIRKO!! HOW MANY LIMBS DO YOU HAVE, OMG
so is this Aizawa dreaming about Crust’s final moments, then?? jesus. with All Due Respect to Crust’s memory, does Aizawa not already have enough misplaced guilt on his conscience as it is?? “nope, we’re gonna keep piling it on. that’s all he is now. three limbs, an indeterminate number of eyes, sexy hair, and Guilt” well shit
motherfucker y’all really out here placing an oxygen mask on Gran Torino’s corpse. fucking shounen characters. each one comes with a lifetime warranty
DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI WHY DO YOU KEEP SHOWING THESE CLOSE-UPS OF HAWKS’S UNCONSCIOUS FACE ALL WHUMPED OUT AND EXHAUSTED. HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS ARE WE GOING TO GET. ARE YOU PLANNING ON KILLING ME WITH THE UPCOMING CONVALESCENCE ARC, BECAUSE IF SO, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN MAKE A WILL
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for a moment I considered going back and checking my previous recaps to count how many times I’ve already made a joke about Dabi’s fire incinerating Hawks’s wings but not touching so much as a hair on his five o’clock shadow, so that I could calculate whether or not I could possibly get away with making that same joke one more time. but then I realized I could just do it in this kind of roundabout way I’m doing right now instead. so there you have it
FFFFFFFMT LADY AND MIDNIGHT NOOOOO
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PLEASE BE ALIVE. PLEASE RESPECT THE SIGN ON THE FRONT OF THE BUILDING. THE ONE THAT SAYS “NO LADY CHARACTERS ALLOWED TO DIE”, WITH THE FINE PRINT AT THE BOTTOM “AT LEAST NOT UNTIL HORIKOSHI GIVES US LIKE TWENTY-SIX MORE OF THEM FIRST IF THAT’S THE WAY HE WANTS TO PLAY IT.” IT’S A GOOD SIGN, PLEASE RESPECT ITS WISHES!!
so anyway though, Jeanist is giving a speech about how god knows how many people all worked together to bring Machia down. and now RHA is getting in on those fabric puns too, I see. “A SINGLE STRAND MAY BE THIN BUT TOGETHER THEY FORM A STRONG ROPE” oh so you think you guys are funny eh? I’m a frayed knot
MEANWHILE EXCUSE ME BUT WHY ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING BLOOD, HOLY SHIT
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fffffff. so much for him taking over as the Number One once all this is over. so let’s just recap real quick, because Horikoshi has long since made it clear that one of his plot goals for this arc is to wipe out every single member of the Billboard Top Ten. so how we doin?
Endeavor - was just figuratively eviscerated in front of the entire nation by his homicidal zombiepunk son. also burnt half to death and possibly down a lung. will almost certainly be forced to retire after this one way or the other
Hawks - lying prettily in a medical tent. wings status: gone. hair status: still perfect
Jeanist - WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS FINE BUT APPARENTLY HE’S OUT HERE DYING, JESUS CHRIST
Edgeshot - MIA, last seen fighting Re-Destro. I really want him to have kicked RD’s ass because fuck that guy, but realistically they probably fought to a draw at best
Mirko - alive but in critical condition and missing something like 1.5 limbs
Crust - dead, currently haunting Aizawa’s traumatized dreams. now he’s gonna be triggered the rest of his life by people giving him the thumbs up, THANKS A LOT
Kamui Woods - was set on fire which is His Weakness. thoughts and prayers
Wash - last seen floating hospital patients to safety as Tomura’s wave of decay descended towards him. probably dead ffff
Old Man Samurai - haven’t seen this fucker in a hot minute, who even knows where he’s wandered off to
Ryuukyuu - currently being treated for her wounds, looked pretty bad off. but it’s hard to tell how hurt she is since most of the injuries were acquired in her transformed state. SHE BETTER GET WELL SOON
anyways, so yeah. so much for the top ten. guess that’s another reason Horikoshi brought Mirio back now, huh
so there’s a big panel of everyone fighting the Noumu while Machia lies there all “blurgh.” good riddance my dude. it took like twenty chapters and a hundred people to stop this guy so I really fucking hope he stays down. you’ve had your fun
anyway so Jeanist is sending another steel thread towards Dabi! and he’s all “just a bit more!!” fklklj this is gonna go real well isn’t it
meanwhile Mirio’s fighting a Nearly High End with all of these weird rock formations jutting out of its skin. go on and kick his ass then, Mirio
“each of these guys is probably just as strong as the Noumu from Kyuushuu” hold on I thought Ujiko or Tomura or someone said that wasn’t the case? not that Mirio would know I suppose. anyways let’s just hope he’s wrong cuz if not these kids are probably screwed
kLSDKFHLSKHGLKLK OH MY GODDDD
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IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH. THINKS THE NAME IS OUTRAGEOUS, CHECK. USES IT ANYWAY, CHECK. “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T BE SUPPORTIVE.” WHAT A CLASS ACT
AND KACCHAN IS RESPONDING WITH AS MUCH DIGNITY AS HE CAN MUSTER
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WOW, SON. IT’S ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, OR SOMETHING!! although listen up, real talk, the fact that Kacchan of all people can’t muster the energy to yell at someone questioning his ability to kick ass is HIGHKEY troubling and we may be in need of an intervention here soon :/
now Jeanist is finally turning his attention to the League! was... was it not already on the League. omg
ACTUAL SCREAMING AHHHHHH FUCK FUCKLK LK AHHLKHKFFFF
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hey so um. what the actual fucked up hell. my soul left my body. imagine if you saw the reflection of this panel on your bedroom window. you would never sleep again
OKAY RHA TRANSLATORS ARE YOU HAVING YOURSELF A LAUGH AGAIN
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THIS CANNOT BE WHAT HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING RIGHT. BUT IT’S RIGHT IN THAT UNCANNY VALLEY OF NOT BEING QUITE SURE, THOUGH... ( ゚д゚)
(ETA: just a next-day clarification here, apparently my sleep-deprived ADHD word-skipping brain completely skipped right over the “a” in that last panel, so what I read was, “and Shigaraki’s limp noodle.” so yeah, the moral of this story is always read the speech bubble carefully before you start making running jokes throughout the rest of your post, folks.)
oh wow he’s really freaking out lmao
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to be fair though, I’d argue that Dabi has gotten pre-tty close at this point :’) thrilled for him, really I am
but anyway, well then figure something out you big dramatic robot-armed fiend. didn’t you just say you could touch your own ass? can you not just Compress yourself to break free?? does it not work on you? or would you be stuck afterwards lol
(ETA: I was picturing him compressing his entire body at once, not just chunks of it. ghhhlkh.)
um
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holy shit Jeanist. are you stupidly trying to cut off their air, or are you going for more of a sleeper hold (jleeper hold??) thing instead. the latter would be way smarter and faster and probably safer as well just saying
but unless Spinner is just being super dramatic, it sure looks like he’s fucking strangling them djslkjlk. this will certainly cement his popularity among the villain stans. good thing you’re not running for office any time soon bud
anyway so I have no idea what these guys are trying to do now. what is this
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do you even have till the count of 5 at this rate. I mean
OH MY GOODNESS
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HE’S REALLY FUCKING DOING IT!! HE’S COMPRESSING HIS BUTT!! OMFG. TOMURA HIDE YOUR NOODLE!!!
WHAT THE FUCK
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DID YOU COMPRESS A PIECE OF YOUR OWN ASS. FUCKING WHAT. PUT THIS MAN’S PICTURE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE WORD “LOYALTY”, HOLY CRAP
HOLY SHIT COMPRESS
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“HOLY SHIT DID THAT GUY JUST PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH HIS OWN ASS IN ORDER TO SAVE HIS VILLAIN PALS. FUCK IT, HE DESERVES TO ESCAPE”
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jeez, talk about... A HALF-ASSED ESCAPE ATTEMPT :D :D :D hahaha. but real talk though, Horikoshi has clearly never tried to leap twelve feet straight up in the air multiple times in succession with only half his glutes though. everyone, I regret to inform you that this panel right here on the left may be slightly unrealistic
also where the hell is he going to go?? did you pack a jetpack away in one of those little marbles sir. and what about Dabi?? and Skeptic too, I guess, but we don’t really care about Skeptic
(ETA: at this point I had to stop reading for about two hours because I had to go out and take care of something; that’s also why this is being posted later than usual lol. anyways so where were we.)
oh my lord
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the existence of a translator’s note here implies that the earlier line about Compress being able to reach Tomura’s junk was not, in fact, ad-libbed. hmm. hmmmmmmmm
anyway so now he’s grabbing Compress again because OF COURSE HE IS, so now we’re right back to square one! except now Tomura and Spinner are secured inside of little marbles, and presumably Compress is the only one who can release them
oh nevermind he’s just maiming himself again instead, SHEESH
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Skeptic a man is dying please have some goddamn respect
so, uh. is he gonna die, though??
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I really can’t tell wtf is going on here, this is the most confusing the art has been in a while. Horikoshi put all of his spoons into that creepyass close-up panel earlier, that bastard
OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS
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DON’T FUCKING TELL ME THE “COMPRESS IS RELATED TO THIS THIEF GUY FROM OLDEN TIMES” THEORY IS ACTUALLY TRUE WHAAAAAAT. OH SHIT
so apparently Harima was a Robin Hood type guy who stole from... heroes?? wtf. are heroes the 1% in this scenario. y’all didn’t have any Fortune 500 CEOs to steal from?
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THAT’S THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOU, OH SHIT. and in a related oh shit, the fact that we are getting a Compress flashback now of all times doesn’t bode super well for him. ffff
MEANWHILE THE TODOROKIS ARE STILL TODOROKI-ING
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listen here boy if you touch one freaking hair on Shouto’s candy cane head I swear to god --
WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!!!
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SHOUTO NOOOOOO. WTF YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONE GUY WHOSE WEAKNESS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FIRE. DABI YOU SHIT, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!! I’M PRINTING OUT A COPY OF THAT COMPRESS PANEL!!! KEEP AN EYE OUT ON THAT BEDROOM WINDOW YOU PUNK!!!
SO NOW POOR SHOUTO IS UNCONSCIOUS AND FALLING!! SOMEONE SAVE HIM!! WHO CATCHES THE CATCHER
COMPRESS LITERALLY HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS HAPPENING
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PLEASE DON’T CALL TOMURA LEADER OF THE “PLF” YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU DO THAT. ARE YOU DYING. ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING HEAD NOW WTF
(ETA: “masks are removable, makeste” you know what it’s been a long day okay lmao. or I suppose Compress is really the one who is lmao.)
GASPPPPPP
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okay. okay. looooool okay then
WHY WERE YOU COVERING THIS SEXY MOP OF HAIR UNDER THAT HOOD YOU TOOL. IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED SO GOOD WITH THE TOP HAT. I’M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW
as if it wasn’t enough for him to demask himself, he also had to get all shirtless and then do this weird attempt at a sexypose too huh
hard to say exactly how much of his torso is currently missing, but safe to say that’s proooooooobably not good. :///// fuck
on the other hand, Kacchan also has a torso hole and he’s still flying around like he just drank a dozen red bulls, so
this man lost his ass and he’s still out here monologuing like it’s the last two minutes of The Prestige. one might say he is monologuing his ass off
so he let Spinner and Tomura free, but is Dabi still trapped in his marble?? wasn’t he all on fire and stuff?? hopefully he can still turn off his quirk in there because if not that’s a pretty fucked up way to die. somewhere out there Snatch’s ghost is all “YEAH I’LL SAY.” oh how the turntables
last but not least, sooooooo. Tomura. back on the ground. that’s. um. ...shiiiiiiiit
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Text
She’s So Pretty
Pairing: Hailey Upton x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1,640
Warnings: Slight mentions of alcohol.
Summary: You and Hailey meet at a karaoke bar one night when you don't even try to hide your interest in her.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: So… I guess I wrote a Hailey fic? It’s obviously my first but I just couldn’t shake off the idea and had to go on with it. I wanted to see her interactions with the unit and wingman!Jay on this one so, beware! Also, after the finales, I felt like we all could use some fluff (especially Hailey!). Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck, lemme know what you think!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
| masterlist |
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You and your co-workers had decided on a karaoke bar for that Friday night after shift, which was great because you absolutely loved karaokes! With that in mind, you didn't have any other plans besides hanging out with your friends, getting a little tipsy, and singing until someone decided it was time to kick you out. But all of that changed the second your eyes fell on a cute blonde that had really beautiful ocean blue eyes.
That woman could easily change your plans on any given day. And, convinced that she should know about it, you started to plot flirting moves in your head. First, as usual, you started to give her the sexy stares — not that girls would usually get very impressed by that but you wanted to catch her eye, show her your interest —, which quickly got your friends to get their gossiping started.
"Wait. A. Second. " You heard one of your colleagues say. "Are you really switching teams tonight, (y/n)?"
"What?"
"Yeah, I mean… You usually prefer girls…" She offered but, seeing your confused expression, she added: "because we can tell you're, you know, on the flirty mode."
"That obvious, huh?" Good. Your plan was working. "But I still don't know what you guys are so surprised about. Who do you think I'm going for?"
"Isn't it that hottie, broad-shouldered, blond guy? The one on that table with three other people?" The other one asked, pointing with her head in the exact direction you had been looking at.
"What? No, no! I mean, I am, indeed, looking at that table but that guy's not the one catching my attention! The blue-eyed hottie beside him is!" Hearing that, they all looked at the girl who was now smiling brightly at something one of the men she was with had just said. Jesus, that smile.
"Okay. She is pretty. Like, really pretty." The only male friend in your group stated while you just threw him an I-know-that look. "You know, you saw her first but, in case she's not your type o' player, gimme a heads up, please!" He asked poutingly while you just rolled your eyes.
"Just because you've already hooked me up before."
"And that is why our partnership works!" He told you with a wink while you just laughed, going back to your job and sort of disconnecting from your co-workers' conversations for the rest of the night.
"Wow, Jay, that shirt must be doing you a lot of service, huh?" Hailey teased her partner in a hushed whispered tone.
"What?" Was all Jay said while trying to conceal his confusion when he saw the smirk on her lips.
"That girl over there! She hasn't gotten her eyes off you the whole night!" Hailey said, as if he was the dumbest person alive. So he followed her gaze to discreetly meet the eyes of a very beautiful woman he'd already noticed before. Except that, unlike Hailey, Jay actually knew who, on their table, she was looking at.
"What? You think she's looking at me?" With that playful look never leaving her face, his partner just said:
"Of course, she's looking at you! Who else?" He couldn't believe it. The all-mighty, badass-detective, Hailey Upton was missing that one? No way.
"Really, Hailey?" He asked, still thinking she was just trying to prank him.
"Uh… I mean…" She stuttered, not really being able to come up with a proper response.
"Oh my God!" Jay squealed out, as he couldn't stop chuckling.
"What?" She asked, starting to fear she was embarrassing herself somehow, "what?" He just kept laughing, it wasn't every day he got to mock Hailey without the certainty that she already had something worse for him in the works.
“She is very obviously looking at you!” He told her with a huge suggestive smile on his face while trying to hold back his laughter.
“What?” She asked him, still mesmerized by that possibility. “C’mon! You’re joking, right?”
“Jesus Christ, Hails. Of course, she’s looking at you! Look again and you’ll see it.” Jay assured her one more time, which got her curiosity in the play, so she looked. And, instantly, you winked at her. Hailey didn’t know what to do with that. How to react. Confusion was all over her face, so you smiled and got out of your seat.
“Oh my God, Jay. Oh my God. I looked and now I think she’s coming here! What do I do?” She nervously hissed at her partner. “What do I do??
“What do you mean what do you do? You talk to her. Smile. Don’t act grumpy. That is, if you’re interested…” Seeing her panicked look, he turned to her to ask: “God, Hailey, what’s the matter with you tonight?”
“I- I, uh, I don’t know… I’m just…” She started rambling once again while tucking a string of hair behind her ear.
“Okay, breathe. Now, tell me, what’s going on? Is she not your type? Or are not interested in meeting anyone? Because, if it’s any of those things, just tell her so. We both know that girls don’t usually have a problem being told no.”
“Right. I know that. And it’s not really because of any of the things you said… I just- I just haven’t been with anyone in a long time. And with the way our jobs are… I’m not sure if it’d be nice to get someone wrapped up with me right now.” She confessed to her best friend.
“Oh, Hails…” He started while offering soft eyes and a kind smile, “I’m not sure if I’m the best person to give you advice on that front-” Hearing that, she had to interrupt Jay to say, in between dry chuckles:
“That you really aren’t! But I’d like your input anyways. I mean, i’s not like I have a clue of what to do, so…” Hailey told him with a glimpse of a smile on her lips.
“Ha ha ha. Well, I just think that you shouldn’t hold yourself back this much. The seule fact that you haven’t been with anyone in a while should settle it!” He exclaimed, raising his hands, as if it was the simplest, most obvious thing ever. Ignoring Adam and Kevin’s curious looks, Jay went on: “I just think that you should try and live your life! You know, what you said about our jobs… Only makes the whole fun-time thing more necessary, if you ask me. Besides, you don’t need to overthink this! We’re in a freaking club, Hailey! You think the girl’s gonna come here and propose?”
“First of all, I don’t see you doing much of that fun-time thing yourself!” She pointed out, to which Jay just responded by taking a sip of his drink. “And, second, look! I don’t think she’s even coming here at all.” So he looked towards the direction his partner was indicating to see you getting on the small karaoke stage the club had. Hailey looked triumphant for not having to decide on whether to live her life or not. And Jay just shook his head in disapproval, which quickly became mock towards his partner when they noticed the song you were singing.
“They’re so pretty it hurts
I’m not talking ‘bout boys, I’m talking ‘bout girls
They’re so pretty with their button-up shirts”
As you sang, you made sure to let the blonde girl know that it was meant for her. And, God, did she know.
Hailey was pretty sure she’d never, once in her entire life! Ever blushed that hard. By then, your flirting had become so obvious that even Adam and Kevin noticed and started to itch with curiosity.
“Say, Hailey, you hiding a big game from us, huh?” Ruzek half-barked while drinking from his beer bottle. She just blushed harder while trying to cover her face with her hands.
“Damn, Miss Upton! Talk about a big game! That girl is fine!” Kevin chipped in and Jay thought it was his moment to go back to wingmanning his partner.
“I told her that! See?” With that, Hailey took a peek from her hands and she couldn’t believe Jay was doing that! Or she could, she just didn’t anticipate it because your voice was distracting from everything else. To her, you were singing beautifully, even though there was already a hint of drunkenness in your voice. And no one had ever done something like that just to get her attention. For her. “Hailey, I’m serious now: give the girl a chance. Give yourself a chance, woman!” Jay spoke again, pulling her out of her thoughts to notice that Kevin was nodding vigorously to it and Adam asking:
“Wow! When did Jay get this wise?” After that, she let out a laugh and prepared herself to go talk to you 𑁋 because, no matter how upfront you could be, Hailey Upton wasn’t about to let you make all the moves 𑁋, like she was getting ready for battle. With more cheers from her fan club, she made her way to the stage, where you were just getting down from.
The minute you saw her there, though, you literally lost your balance 𑁋 being that close to her seemed somewhat more intoxicating than the alcohol you’d drunk. But, just like in the movies, she held your arms before you could go any further. Her soft touch seemed like a dream to you.
“H- hi.” You said nervously, after steading yourself, while biting your bottom lip. Why were you getting that nervous? You didn’t even know the girl yet! But there was just something about her…
“Hi. I’m Hailey,” she said, holding out her hand for you to shake.
“I’m (y/n).” You responded by taking her hand in yours. Yeah. There was definitely something about her. That was why.
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thequietmanno1 · 2 years
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Thelreads, MHA 253, Replies Part 2
1) “Oh man, Mic is a bit pissed, this is… Well, this is worrisome, to say the least. Jesus, what happened that you had to get Mic to go with you man? “- Aizawa dealt with his grief by embracing it and allowing it to mould him into somebody with a self-destructive outlook, in effect projecting his grief into a dour, snarky attitude with a hint or two of cynicism behind his gloomy exterior. Mic, by contrast, was always the light-hearted extrovert between them, and when Kumo died the first time he felt obligated to pull double-duty on that front to help keep Aizawa’s mind-set from becoming too self-destructive, doing what he could to keep his partner-in-mourning from losing himself to his worst impulses even at the cost of supressing his own grief and avoid dealing with it at all, putting on a happy front in order to hide how he was really feeling, which means that for him, a lot of the trauma from Kumo’s demise is still unresolved, and this is tearing the old wounds open again, leaving them nice and bloody.
2) “wait
are we- Are we talking about… the traitor?  Are Aizawa and Mic going to go after the traitor? Oh god oh fuck- By the way he`s talking about it it must be a teacher. Oh fuck oh no”- Well… technically, Kumo did betray the old dream and career they once aspired to have together, but does it really count as betrayal if you’re forced into it and have no idea what you’re really doing anymore? If your mind is so heavily remixed and remodelled to suit another’s whims you might not even have a sense of self to object with at this point? All For One would have a good hearty laugh over the situation in either case, since to him, this would prove the folly of wanting to become a hero if all it takes is some minor tweaks to your thought process and you become equally capable of great villainy.
3) “…
Is that
Is that Tartarus? Wait no- is the traitor already in jail and they there to interrogate them? No, it  can`t be, Hori wouldn`t cut a conflict like this, then what the hell are they coming here for? Are they going to talk to All for One or something?”- They’re here to catch up with an old friend who doesn’t even know he’s their friend anymore- and maybe never will again. Does it still count as Kumo if the mind inside him bares no resemblance to his old self anymore? How much of a man can you cut away before what’s left is another person entirely?
4) “oh okay, a random exposition to remind us what Nomus are, I`m sure this is just small talk without any plot relevance whatsoever did they caught a nomu or something?”- Oh they’ve caught this Nomu as long time ago- In fact, I think they probably still have the OG Nomu in custody somewhere, even if he is absolutely inert until he receives the appropriate commands. Oh, and can’t forget Hood’s charred corpse on Ice somewhere, possibly stored alongside the Hosu Nomu and the remains of Izuku’s old friend- sure feels awkward remembering those guys now after Ending tried using them as a justification to legally murder him a few chapters ago. If they’d had the capacity to restrain them without killing them, then maybe the damage done to their brains might have been fixable, as opposed to Kumo, who seems to have had far more extensive mental re-mapping done to him in exchange for him retaining his ego. But those were simply too powerful and dangerous to restrain- plus, people weren’t going to hesitate giving a lethal attack to something non-human, which feels worse now when you know there was probably somebody on the inside of those monsters all the time, perhaps trapped in the sunken place and begging for help than nobody wanted to give them…
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5) “Gran Torino here as well? Man, been a while since we saw turbo yoda there, but I think he was with Phelps as well. Huh. Okay, I have no fucking clue where this is going now, but I`m starting to suspect we`re gonna go down the Nomu plot once again.”- Since he was the one to bring him in, it makes sense he’d be involved in looking after his ‘suspect’- plus, Torino is proverbial boot on the ground trying to hunt down the league whilst Phelps runs support and logistics, and since this is the best and only lead they have, given how absolutely the PLF have concealed their plans, they’re both out of options beyond praying for a miracle with getting some piece of useful intel out that Aizawa and Mic can coax out of their deceased colleague’s cadaver.
6) “That would definitely explain why you`re going over stuff we already know about, and have known about for almost 200 chapters by now, not counting the Vigilante ones.”- Well, that, and the fact that overturning that assumption by hoping some piece of Kumo still resides inside his shattered mind and can communicate with them is the plan they’re going for, painful as it is for Aizawa and Mic.
7) “Alright, you know, I`m not gonna get in the merit of “we already knew that goddammit” because I don`t know how far Vigilantes had got by this point, but we already knew that goddammit, McBee showed that Nomus could be way more than simply automatons if needed, and now with Shigaraki about to become a nomu it gets even more obvious.”-Well, we can safely say for sure that we were past a certain chapter by now…
8) “Oh jesus, Mic is really not okay right now, and the way Phelps phrased that- I don`t feel like I like where this is going.”-Both men are barely holding it together, and can you really blame them? This not only overturns the nature of the enemy that’s been harassing their student and helped brutalise Aizawa, giving him permanent scars, but the last who-knows how many years of their lives since high school, realising that all along, all the time they were training to be heroes and helping others in Shirakumo’s memory, his reanimated cadaver had been dug up, stuffed with science beyond the ken of normal men and was walking around like a sick puppet at the whim of a malicious monster in mockery of all that he hoped to one day became. And the worst part is, it appears to have been completely random. There wasn’t any special reason that Shirakumo was chosen to be one of the bodies chosen for AFO and Ujiko’s experiments with what would become the Nomu, he was merely just a convenient corpse they happened to come across when they were looking for a body that nobody would miss- in fact, it’s very likely that he was far from the first one they did that to.
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If you can turn even dead bodies into Nomu, then it’s a far more convenient method of acquiring the physical parts you need for the monster than by kidnapping living people off the street- less people looking for the missing person afterwards for one thing. After all, it’s not like you could imagine a corpse would get up and walk around on its own after breathing its last breath, right? But then again, Quirks make the impossible, possible, and heinous as he may be, Ujiko is undoubtedly the man on the cutting edge of quirk science. The messy, bloody, unethical edge far beyond the boundaries of decency and morality, but the cutting edge nonetheless.
9) “wait
wait a moment
Am I losing my mind or are they implying that Kurogiri is also a Nomu?”- 
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Sure is a similar eye shape they both have there, huh? Rather than Hood resembling Kurogiri, Kurogiri actually resembles a High-end Nomu, so I think one of the uniform identifying traits of the high-ends must be a similar eye design, in addition to the whole exposed brain deal. Kurogiri’s smoky form probably just obscures his physical alterations underneath all that smog. That said, Hood seems to be a great deal less stable that Kurogiri, despite being able to communicate and follow orders, in part apparently because he’s far more powerful than Kurogiri in a combat sense, but accordingly, in a similar manner to Izuku needing to build up his body to use all of OFA’s multiple powers at their maximum, his multiple quirks put a greater strain on his mental faculties, and getting pushed too far in a fight trying to put Endeavour down apparently pushed his mind to the breaking point, causing him to devolve into a feral beast in the final moments from having too much power being controlled by a mind who couldn’t withstand the strain of it, even if his body had been physically remodelled to handle more power than God intended he be born with. 
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Kurogiri, meanwhile, is much weaker, and actually doesn’t even have any direct combat applications with his quirk besides the situational portal cut function, something he indicates would be unpleasant for him to experience, but his mind is far more stable, and he’s even been able to form a completely different personality and mentality compared to his old self. In fact, it’s a little jarring to realise how ok Kumo was with killing a person in such an intimate manner in hindsight, even if there was likely a component of him being unable to ignore AFO’s direct orders on the matter. Kurogiri is a support-type Nomu, there to protect Tomura and offer him a way out until he’s adequately prepared to start taking the fight to the heroes and can be given access to the more hard-core toys AFO stashed away for a rainy day, like the high-ends and Machia. By the time he reached that point, Kurogiri’s role had run out, and accordingly, he’s effectively abandoned by his ‘masters’ now his purpose has been served and to help further push Tomura into becoming the symbol of Fear, taking away the safety and security afforded by his warp gate function.
10) “Okay, it must be that, right? But what the fuck, Kurogiri doesn`t even have multiple quirks, at least not that we`ve seen. But it must be him that they are talking about, Gran Torino captured him”- Kurogiri takes the opposite approach to the typical Nomu. Whereas they have multiple individual quirks stuffed within a vessel modified to be tough enough to take the strain, he has multiple quirk factors merged together to form a single, powerful quirk, in a similar manner to how OFA first formed. It’s heavily implied that this is because Kurogiri is actually the first Nomu, or first of that line of quirk-enhanced monstrosities that Ujiko and AFO created once they’d perfected the method. Before they started on making bodies strong enough to hold multiple powers, they went for making a specialised individual power out of multiple ones in order to both create a highly-useful trump card and figure out the baseline level of power a body could hold whilst still retaining its intelligence and ego, and from there making more combat-applicable ‘tanks’ that didn’t require higher brain functions too much because they’d just be disposable weapons to be unleashed at a target and only needed enough mental power to process commands.
11) “Ah damn, now I know it can`t be McBee, he wouldn`t shut the fuck up about his master plan, he would`ve given AfO plans away the moment he got caught, just so he could gloat how the plan couldn`t be stopped”- This puts Kumo’s situation in bleaker terms- it’s not that he’s ‘willingly’ aiding the league after having his memories and mind tampered with, it’s that he literally can’t think of not helping them. Any thoughts that might lead to rebellion or non-compliance with AFO’s commands literally shut his mind down like a robot who receive an incorrect command code, and he ‘powers up’ again shortly afterward like a blank slate, unaware of what was asked of him. 
In exchange for being allowed to have his own ego and mind-set, it seems that the cost that came for Kumo’s conversion into a Nomu isn’t a loss of mental functions and his body becoming grotesquely warped into an inhuman form, but a greater and more extensive mental remapping of his brain, ensuring said mind will never turn on AFO, even if he has every reason to want to. He’s had his Id and Personality scooped out and put back together in ways that benefit a loyal soldier of AFO and he literally can’t imagine being anything else, or his mind cuts out. Even if he can be conversed with, it’s possible that Kumo’s modifications are so extensive that there’s even less of a chance of him regaining his humanity than the other Nomu.
12) “Huh… No, also is implausible, he doesn`t have the speed and strength, he just teleports things around, and apparently that is just the result of multiple quirks coming together. The most probably explanation is that Kurogiri, like a lot of babies, was merely an accident, and then they refined him when they saw the potential that not having to pay for Uber would entail.”- Less an accident, but more a deliberate creation designed to create a ‘base’ Nomu Ujiko and AFO could expand upon. It was outright stated how convenient Kurogiri’s portal powers were when he first appeared and how unfortunate it was that a highly-useful power like that was in the hands of villains. In retrospect, it was too convenient a power to be a naturally-born one. Every single quirk we’ve seen had some kind of limitation or drawback to it- in fact AFO himself has another warping quirk that he used to save the league at Kamino once Kurogiri was knocked unconscious, but he himself admits it’s inferior, as he can only warp people to and from him and to places he’s familiar with- but Kurogiri’s power alone seems to contain no drawbacks to it, nor any limit to what he can do with it beyond needing precise coordinates to reach a location he can’t see. Now we can see that the drawback for having such a power was him losing his mind and willpower to become nothing more than a mindless puppet of AFO’s at a single command, in mockery of all he once hoped to be.
13) “WHT NO NO WAY NO FUCKING WQAY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU NO
NO
NOPE NOPE FUCK YOU NOPE HORIKOSHI NO I REFUSE TO NO NO ABSOLUTELY NOT HOW COULD YOU “
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Horikoshi’s face right now.
14) “So that was the connection that people wanted me to see. Not the whole “how Aizawa became who he is” shit, oh no, it was not about how he became a hero and why he expelled all students that didn`t met his high standards and all that, oh no, it was all so the punch here would come ten-fold.
Kurogiri, one of the first villains we got to know from the League, AfO`s right hand man, was in fact not only a high-end Nomu, but a Nomu made out of Aizawa`s dead friend.”-Aizawa’s so committed to his Ninja aesthetic that he even has his own Sasuke… ok, there’s another character who’d fit the comparison even better, but naturally their identity is as spoilerey as Kurogiri’s true name.
15) “I want to be mad, I really want, but I`m just baffled, completely speechless. So that`s why that arc back on Vigilantes was miles above all the others, because Horikoshi literally had a choke-hold on Furuhashi and how the plot should go. It wasn`t only something like why Aizawa is how he is, it was also because it was set-up for one of the biggest plot twists of the series so far.
holy. shit.”-
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I actually quite like that this relied on Knowledge from the Vigilante spin-off. I sorta see it as similar to the Marvel Netflix series in that events from one film can interact with the series and sometimes the series can make cameo appearance in the films and other shows, but you don’t need to actually know who they are, nor do they significantly impact the plot of said films, but it does show how the universe they live in is one with many stories and many heroes, and they can interact in ways you wouldn’t expect. Checking out the plotting of MHA so far, it’s actually been really tight and fast-paced- this last arc has only been 10-ish chapters so far, and everything’s been building up on a tight schedule, so taking time to properly flesh out Aizawa’s backstory would not only have slowed the pacing, it would have allowed savey viewers to pick up on the fact that Kumo was likely to be more important than just a disposable character to galvanise Aizawa’s character progression. By putting the backstory in the spinnoff, it made it seem irrelevant to MHA’s plot, beyond merely being character explanation for Aizawa’s behaviour so far, and thus the impact of the twist is magnified when all of a sudden that side-character you thought you knew about turned out to have been involved with the story all along, in an unrecognisable form to the point you never saw it coming.
16) “And now that I`m finished I finally got to see what the cover page was. Can you guess what the tittle of the chapter was? Take a fucking guess”- So, what happens to Shirakumo (White Cloud) when it gets dragged down to earth, muddied and corrupted from the pure form it used to be into an agent of a malevolent will to serve it unquestioningly as a mockery of all it once hoped to be?
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It becomes Kurogiri (Black Mist). @thelreads​
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safertokiss · 4 years
Text
There’s No One Else
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A/N: Heyooo! I loved this request so of course I had to write something for it. It’s my first MGG fic, but it was super fun to write and I plan to do more fics for his other roles. Thanks for the support and all the kind words!<3 P.S. I decided to try out 2nd person in this one.
Request: “Can you do an angst/smut with Matthew but it's the set of criminal minds and they are shooting a scene and reader likes Matthew but she is keeping it a secret? sorry if that didn't make any sense. I love your writing!!” ( @victomizedbyreginageorge )
Pairing: MATTHEW GRAY GUBLERx FEM! READER
Category: SMUT, slight angst, and of course fluff
Word Count: 5.2k
ENJOY!:)
~~~
MASTERLIST
~~~
Ever since you were a child, you knew that you were destined to be on the set of a production studio, surrounded by the biggest stars the business had to offer. Granted, you had always assumed you’d be the one in front of the camera rather than behind, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers in this world.
 It’s not that you disliked being Khalia Dark’s assistant. She was a world renown celebrity, loved by all who were graced with her presence, from afar that is. Anyone who had the “honor” to get up close and personal with her, yourself included, knew she wasn’t the sweetest of the bunch. If you were to use your own words, she was a mythic bitch. Adored by millions, envied by more, which was pretty much the case for all of the A-listers out here anyway. Although you could do without the woman being in your vicinity, you didn’t mind being her servant most of the time.
More often than not you were certain she forgot about your existence all together, which usually gave you a chance to breathe for a bit. While your job brought about many positives for yourself, for example the extensive knowledge of posh coffees that you would have memorized for life, the highlight of the endeavor was without a doubt the exclusive access to the extravagant movie and TV sets that the queen bee happened to be appearing in each given week. Today, much to your excitement, was one of those days. Usually movies were more her forte so it was always a nice, refreshing change when she booked a role for the small screen. 
Her newest conquest in the industry just happened to be one of your favorite shows to have ever aired, Criminal Minds. Of course you were trying to remain professional, but it became increasingly difficult the closer you got to the studio lot’s entrance. The child in you was screaming with joy at the prospect of being there, surrounded by some of your favorite actors and actresses in the industry. You couldn’t even consider the possibility that you would get to meet Matthew Gray Gubler, the object of your affections for as long as you had been watching the show. That simply was a no go. You were positive that if at any point in time he was in your vicinity, you would simply lose consciousness, and that wouldn’t exactly be the best first impression. The further you walked onto the set, the more amazed you were. You were so familiar with it after years of watching, it just felt like a second home. After breaking out of your stupor, you quickly spun around to try and locate your boss, immediately colliding with whatever was in front of you, letting out a small “oomf”. Well. Whoever.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying atten-.”
You immediately froze mid-sentence when your eyes caught up with your actions. Fuck. This is not happening. It was him. Standing less than a foot away from you was the one and only Mr. Matthew Gray Gubler, live and in the flesh. Fucking hell.
“Hey it’s no problem, I promise. Don’t worry about it. I’m not exactly the most coordinated person on the planet either, trust me”, he said, chuckling lightly. Running a hand through his unkempt curls, he momentarily let his eyes roam your frame before seemingly snapping out of it, clearing his throat and extending one of his strong looking hands towards you.
“I’m Matthew by the way.”
You, however, were still frozen in place. Realizing how stupid you looked just standing there, openly ogling the man in front of you, you quickly met his hand, a nervous smile adorning your face. His hands were so fucking soft.
Chuckling once again, he seemed to be waiting for something.
“And you are?”
Oh shit. You hadn’t even introduced yourself yet! So much for first impressions you thought.
“O-oh right! Sorry. I'm Y/N. Ms. Dark’s assistant”, you stuttered out, entranced by the specimen in front of you. “Wow, that’s a beautiful name. Well I guess it’s fitting. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Wait a second. Had you heard those words correctly. THE Matthew Gray Gubler just called you beautiful? You must’ve been dreaming, there was simply no other explanation. But when you glanced at him he was once again trailing his eyes all over you. Holy shit. You thought you were going to implode on the spot.
“Th-thank you”, you muttered shyly, feeling the blush spread across your features faster than a wildfire in a dry forest. After your weak excuse of an answer left your lips, the two of you just continued to stare at each other for what felt like hours. Eventually you were broken out of your trance by the director calling all of the actors to their places across the lot.
“I-um-I gotta go do a scene, but it was a pleasure to meet you Y/N. I hope I get to see more of you around here.” With a quick wink in my direction, he was off in the direction of the other actors swarming to the set from their trailers. For the third time in the last five minutes you were frozen to the spot in which you stood on the pavement. What in the actual fuck just happened? He called you beautiful. He wants to see more of you. HE WINKED AT YOU. This time you felt like you were truly about to lose consciousness so you booked it to the bathroom to calm yourself. After splashing some water on your face, you felt your body temperature returning to a somewhat normal degree and decided you should probably go to the set in case the Queen of Hearts needed anything from you. 
When you approached the scene that was being filmed, you were able to deduct fairly quickly what the plot revolved around. Apparently Khalia had been hired as the episode’s damsel in distress victim, typical. She was definitely the type to rely on others for pretty much anything. That wasn’t what was catching your eye though. Even from where you were standing you could clearly see her making eyes at Matthew. I guess you couldn’t blame her, he was gorgeous, but it still made you feel so insecure. It really just served as a reminder that people like him would never go after people like you. They want the ones who count. They want Ms. Khalia Dark. In what world would someone like him want a nobody like Y/N Y/L/N? There wasn’t one that came to mind. And while this revelation was pretty damn heartbreaking, you couldn’t say you were shocked by the cold, hard truth.
Feeling like you had lost a war that hadn’t ever really even begun, you turned back to look at Matthew, deciding to make the most of however short the time was that you’d be here. However, he was nowhere to be seen. You quickly realized that while you had been distracted, the scene had switched to something else, one where Matthew appeared to be absent.
“Hey again!”
You literally jumped off the ground and let out a little yelp at the noise, you were so startled.
“Oops, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he got out between adorable giggles. Damn, this man was gonna be the death of you. Literally. If he scared you like that again, you might actually have a heart attack.
“Jesus Matthew! A little warning next time!” You couldn’t help but join in his giggling after a few seconds. Returning his gesture just made the two of you laugh even harder until both of your chests hurt like hell. His laugh was angelic. Perfect. Just like him. For some reason, after you guys had calmed down a bit, you noticed him once again looking you up and down, admiring your body. You even swore you saw him lick his lips. You must be imagining things. Weird. Very weird. Bringing his wandering eyes back to yours, a goofy grin was plastered across his face. You hadn’t even realized you were biting your lip until he reached towards you, dislodging your teeth from the soft skin. “Don’t do that,” he said with a much more serious expression adorning his features. Before you really had the chance to decipher what had just happened, a loud voice cut through the air directed towards you both, causing you to put a bit of space between the two of you. You were able to easily recognize the sultry voice as Shemar’s, turning towards him, a smirk on his face.
“What’s going on that’s so funny over here,” he questioned before his attention shifted to focus solely on you. “My, my. And what’s your name sugar?” You were starstruck for what felt like the thousandth time that day, standing there with your mouth awkwardly hanging open.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. I work for Kahlia, her assistant actually. Nice to meet you”, you answered brightly, a polite smile gracing your lips.
“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine sweetness”, he concluded with a wink. While the action was endearing, it had nowhere near the same effect on you as Matthew’s did. You had always adored Morgan on the show, but you didn’t really know Shemar well enough to have any serious opinions about the dude. Matthew, however, you knew everything there was to be known, from his haunted treehouse to his love of Halloween. You weren’t proud of your obsession, but you couldn’t deny the unbelievably strong attraction you had for the man to your left. Regardless, the interaction caused a blush to spread, though this time it was caused more by being flustered rather than speechless. 
You were about to say something else to try and salvage some of the pride you had just lost, but you were beaten to the punch by Romeo himself. 
“Nothing’s happening over here actually, Shemar. I was having a private conversation with Y/N and I’d appreciate it if you let us get back to it. Thank you.” Matthew’s voice had picked up an edge and his eyes were dark. Like really dark. Although the situation was super uncomfortable and kind of unsettling, considering how feral he looked, you couldn’t help to think about how HOT it was. How hot he was.
“Woah, sorry kid. I didn’t mean to interrupt, just thought I’d introduce myself.”
Seeming to notice his mistakes, Matthew’s eyes quickly returned to their normal color and he stuttered out an apology, with slightly labored breaths.
“No, no I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean to snap like that, just been kind of on edge today”, he said, darting his eyes towards you quickly before redirecting his attention and clearing his throat.
“It’s all good Pretty Ricky, I get like that sometimes too. I’ll catch you guys later. It was nice to meet you Y/N”, he spoke before turning and retreating in the direction of the cast trailers. Shifting your focus back to Matthew, you could tell he was still a bit tense. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder to grab his attention, quietly asking if he was ok.
“Hmm what? Oh, um yeah. Yup. I’m-I’m good. All good. Like I said just a little on edge today. I haven’t had enough coffee”, he hastily responded. Before you could push further, the silence was broken by a shrill voice you were too familiar with, Khalia, unfortunately calling for your assistance at one of the most inopportune times. You turned back to him and gave a sad smile.
“See you around,” you asked, with just a little too much excitement laced in your voice.
“Y-yeah. Of course!” He seemed to have perked up a bit and gave you a wide grin. With a small wave, you were off to do whatever in God’s name the queen wanted from you now.
~~~
The week you were on set was surprisingly going by pretty damn quickly.
As much as you were anxiously awaiting the end so you could be free from Khalia for a bit of time, you couldn’t help but lament the fact that you would have to leave what felt like your second home. You would have to leave Matthew. That’s what hurt most of all. The two of you had become quite close in the short time you had been on set. Well, maybe not close per say, but comfortable? Sure. You guys were comfortable with each other, maybe a little too much on your end. Since that moment with Shemar and his outburst, the tenseness never seemed to dissipate completely. The two of you had shared some quick glances while he was filming a scene or while you were navigating the complex maze that was this sound stage. Whenever the two of you were near each other, he always appeared to go out of his way to get some kind of contact with you, whether it was his shoulder rubbing against yours or his fingers brushing yours as he passed by you. You, still in the mindset that someone as amazing and talented as him would never want anything to do you with you, didn’t really think much of his actions, simply playing them off as accidents and coincidences. 
Although you caught him staring at you on more than one occasion during your time there, you definitely spent the majority of your time ogling the fine specimen. You didn’t understand how a person could be so perfect. Seemingly no flaws. Sure, you had known pretty much every fun fact about the man when you had arrived on set a couple days ago, but now that you had spent some time with him, you were even more enamored. Matthew was an enigma and you wanted him. So fucking bad. Unfortunately, so did basically every other girl on the planet. You really shouldn’t be wasting so much time thinking about him, but at this point you were just in too deep. Watching him do his thing on the sound stage was like watching your own personal exhibition, so much talent pouring out of him he shouldn’t have even been allowed to do what he does. The world would certainly be a lot darker without his geniusness though so you supposed it was ok. As the scene you had been watching came to a close, you decided you really wanted to talk to Matthew again, missing the sound of his velvety voice as he focused on you and only you during the few conversations you’d gotten to have so far. Just as you were about to reach him, though, Khalia appeared out of nowhere directly in front of him with the same look in her eyes she had given him your first day on set. Hunger. You didn’t really know what to do now so you just kind of stood there watching the interaction. The conversation was just out of range, but you could tell she had said something that had made them both laugh. You also watched her place her hands on him in a very flirty way. And much to your dismay, he didn’t seem to be that bothered by it.
You knew that you had absolutely no right to be jealous of her advances, seeing there was nothing between the two of you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. You had known all along that he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for you, but the cold, hard truth being presented on a silver platter right in your face sucked. A whole hell of a lot. Deciding to leave the two of them to enjoy their moment, you turned and made your way to the snack table on the opposite side of the room. As you got closer, you noticed Shemar lingering around it, seemingly snacking on something among the array of treats presented on the table.
“Hey. Nice to see you again”, you said with a small smile, alerting him of your presence.
You had gotten a bit closer to him over the last few days, getting to know more about him, rather than just his character. He was a really nice guy. Very charming, much like his TV counterpart. 
“Y/N! Hey! How are you today?”
“I’m ok. Not one of the best, but hey I’m alive I guess”, you said with a sad smile. Worry quickly spreading across his face, he pulled you into a hug, gently caressing your back.
“Hey don’t say that babydoll. It might not be the best of days, but everyday is worth living in my eyes. We’re all so lucky to be given the chance to be here so why not say fuck it and make everyday a party.” You pulled away from him chuckling at his words, feeling slightly better than you had before. You were grateful for Shemar helping you out when you needed a mood boost.
“Thanks Shemar. You sure know how to make a girl feel better.” 
“Anytime baby girl”, he said with a wink, making you giggle again at his silly nicknames and behavior towards you. A little bit more at ease, you let your eyes survey the room real quick, eventually landing on Matthew. A very angry and annoyed looking Matthew. He was staring directly at the two of you, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his breathing heavy, his eyes as dark as could be. Less than a minute later, he turned around and stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was his trailer. Quickly focusing on Shemar again, you excused yourself and then immediately ran off in the direction he had headed just moments before.
You were able to locate the trailer simply labeled “MGG” fairly quickly and you cautiously approached the steps leading up to the entrance. Would he even want to see you? Why were you special enough to even be this close to his trailer? Before you could second guess yourself anymore, you speedily climbed the steps and knocked on the door, an action based solely on the fact he was without a doubt upset about something and apparently it was your fault to some degree.
You heard some rustling behind the door before his voice rang out.
“Who is it?”
Shit. He sounded really upset. Pushing aside the anxiety bubbling in your chest, you decided that you were curious more than anything and wanted to know what you had done to get his panties in such a twist.
“I-It’s Y/N.”
Immediately the door swung open, making you jump slightly. Without saying a word, he grabbed your arm and dragged you over the threshold, handling you like a rag-doll. Once you were inside he released your arm and began pacing around the trailer, breathing pretty heavily. Maybe it was a mistake coming here. You thought you should probably go and leave him alone for a bit so he could cool off.
“I-I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll leave you be”, you sputtered out, quickly making your way towards the exit. However, before you could even reach the door, his deep voice echoed through the trailer.
“Why did you let him touch you like that?”
You froze mid-step, unsure of how to respond. “Huh?” Wow, nice going Y/N. Really scraped the dictionaries for that one.
“Shemar. Why did you let him put his hands on you and touch you like that?” As he spoke his question, he slowly moved towards you, like a predator eyeing its prey. What was he talking about? Why did he care that you and Shemar had shared a brief hug? And most perplexing of all, why in the hell was he looking at you with such fire in his eyes.
“I-I don’t know what you mean Matthew.”
After his name fell from your lips, you saw his mouth twitch as he moved to close the gap between the two of you, leaving just enough space that your breaths intermingled, but no actual physical contact was occuring. 
“You’re mine, Y/N. You. Are. Mine.” What did he just say? Were you imagining this whole situation in some sick dream of yours? Your brain was struggling to catch up.
“What are you even talki-.”
Before you could finish your sentence, Matthew had surged forward, clashing his mouth against yours, hungrily devouring your lips like they were his favorite meal. You moaned at the contact, letting the shock envelope your entire body. He was ravenous, tongue pressing against your lips, begging for entry. Finally processing what the hell was happening, your mouth quickly opened and welcomed his needy tongue, feeling it tangle with yours as he released the most delicious moan you had ever heard in all the years you had been alive. His hands moved frantically, hastily ripping at the clothes covering your body, desperate to feel any part of you that he could. 
You couldn’t even comprehend how this was happening. Matthew wanted you? Not only did he want you, but he was acting on it too. Fuck. He had said you were his. Did he really mean that?
Breaking away from your lips to pull your blouse over your head, you could’ve sworn you heard a growl escape his throat as his eyes hungrily drank in your appearance, left only in your bra and panties. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. How are you so fucking hot?” Holy shit. The pure lust that dripped in his words made your legs feel like Jell-O, barely keeping it together as he shed his own shirt and began unbuckling his belt. Apparently that was what caused the wire in your brain to snap, your body surging forward to reconnect your lips and rake your nails down his chest.
“Please Matthew”, you whined, not even entirely sure what you wanted him to do. You just needed more.
Groaning at the desperation evident in your voice, he let his hand drift down your body, toying with the waistband of your panties. “Please what? What do you want from me, sweetheart?” His words made you whimper, grasping his hand to try and maneuver it underneath the damp fabric covering the place you needed him most.
“Uh uh uh. I want you to use your words princess. You can do that for me can’t you?”
Nodding your head fervently, you pushed aside any embarrassment you felt and answered almost immediately as the words left his mouth. “I want you to touch me! Please Matthew, I’m begging you!” As soon as you finished your desperate plea, his nimble fingers had ripped your panties down your legs and he was guiding you towards the couch conveniently located nearby. The two of you stumbled onto the cushions, Matthew hovering over you pinning you down, his large erection pressing into your thigh through his pants. You choked on a breath as one of his long, narrow fingers entered you swiftly, pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace, soon followed by two more. You were a whimpering mess as Matthew had his way with you, perfectly curling his fingers to hit your special spot over and over again. You needed him inside of you now or you were gonna explode.
“You’re so wet sweetheart. This all for me”, he questioned cockily, savoring the sounds pouring from your lips, cherishing the way your body writhed underneath his. 
“Yes Matthew! It’s all for you. Only you”, your words were accompanied by a long, drawn out moan. 
“Good girl”, he growled as his fingers picked up their pace, pushing you dangerously close to the edge. Matthew must have picked up on the fact based on the way your muscles were clenching around his digits and the way your breath was becoming more and more labored. 
“That’s it, baby. Come for me, little girl. Come all over my fingers.” His graphic words made your eyes roll back in your head as you felt your orgasm crash through your body, Matthew continuing his ministrations throughout the entirety of it. As you came down from your high and opened your eyes, you were met with the beautiful vision of Matthew sucking your juices off of himself, staring intently at you with lust-filled eyes. “Mmmm, so fucking sweet baby”, he moaned as he licked the last bit away. Realizing you simply couldn’t wait any longer, you grabbed onto his forearm, pulling him to you as close as physically possible. 
“Matthew I need you inside of me right now. Please. Please, I need you.” You felt like you were on the verge of crying, you were so damn desperate for him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes instantly darkened even more after hearing you beg him to fuck you so viscerally. 
“Baby, I really want to feel you bouncing on my cock. Can you do that? Can you ride me like a good girl, sweetheart?”
Not even bothering to answer his questioning, you mustered up all of your strength to push him up and off of you, allowing yourself to straddle him on one of the cushions. You made quick work unzipping his pants and signalling for him to lift up his hips, allowing you to hastily pull down both his slacks and boxers in one go. God, you were so fucking horny and needy for the man in front of you, you felt like you were going insane. Actually, scratch that. You were already long gone. Finally having removed the last barrier between the two of you, his strong hands grabbed your hips and positioned you over his throbbing cock, slowly letting you lower yourself down. Both of you released matching groans at the overwhelming feeling. 
“Fuck, princess. You feel so fucking amazing”, he moaned before gently grasping your hips, encouraging you to start moving. You couldn’t control the string of whimpers that escaped your mouth as you started circling your hips, gradually picking up your pace. It felt so fucking good, incomparible to anything you had ever felt before. As your speed increased and he began thrusting upwards to meet you, his hands reached behind you, finding the clasp of your bra, practically ripping the garment off of your body. Without any barrier blocking your breasts, he sat back and ogled you as they bounced in sync with your rapid movements, eventually needing more and grabbing the pillowy flesh with his wandering hands. The stimulation only made you move faster, desperate for the addicting friction that you could feel radiating throughout your whole being. You felt Matthew’s grip on your hips tighten exponentially, in order to get your undivided attention. 
“I bet you thought you looked real cute flirting with him like that, didn’t you princess”, he sputtered, his voice strained and hoarse. The sound of it made your insides quiver even more.
“I-I wasn’t f-flirting. I w-was just being n-nice”, you stammered, feeling your climax slowly building more and more with each thrust. He growled and immediately picked up the pace, speaking his next words clearly for you to understand. “That’s bullshit baby and you know it. Do you really think he could fuck you like this, sweetheart? Do you think his cock could fill you up this perfectly? Make you feel the way I do?” 
“N-Noooo! No, of course not. I only want you!” You were a moaning, whimpering mess as you gripped his shoulders trying to maintain your balance, his thrusts launching you into a whole other universe. “What was that, little girl? I couldn’t really hear you.”
“Fuck! Matthew! I only want you! There’s no one else!” You couldn’t control yourself any longer. You lost the ability to move as he wrapped his arms around your waist, slamming into you so fucking hard you swore you could see stars. 
“There better fucking not be, little girl. You are mine, sweetheart. All fucking mine. Mine!” His words make the chord in your stomach snap, your climax overtaking your body dangerously fast. “MATTHEW!” Your vision was spotty, muscles clenched incredibly tight, when you felt his cock start to twitch violently inside of you. 
“Fuck! Y/N! Oh my god!” As soon as the words left his mouth, you felt his cum fill you up completely, warmth radiating throughout your body as his dick pulsated inside of you. 
You collapsed against his sweaty frame, holding on for dear life. “Matthew, Matthew, Matthew”, you muttered as you fought to regulate your breathing. Both of you were shaking, thanks to the world-shattering orgasams you had just experienced, his hands gently rubbing your back, soothing you. “Shhhhhh, breathe little girl”, he whispered so warmly it made butterflies bloom in your stomach, a stark contrast to the way he was speaking moments ago. 
Pulling yourself upright, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his. After a few seconds had passed, a huge grin slowly formed on his beautiful face, letting out a light giggle. “Hey.”
Feeling a smile form on your own face from his silliness, you couldn’t help but fall for him even more. “Hi”, you shyly responded, reaching up to poke the dimple that was visible on his face, giggling when he playfully stuck his tongue out, trying to reach your finger with it. Completely absorbed in the moment, you had forgotten that he was still inside of you and you were probably hurting him, not that he was gonna complain. You slowly lifted yourself off of him, both of you wincing slightly at the sensation. He immediately pulled you back to him afterwards and continued to rub your back like he had before. It was so comforting, you were scared you were gonna fall asleep in his lap, which you pretty quickly concluded wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, noticing the way his eyes seemed to droop as well.
As you felt yourself starting to drift off, you heard his soothing voice near your ear. “I’m really sorry I got so rough Y/N. I didn’t mean to act like that. I just got so jealous seeing you with him and I didn’t know how to control my emotions. I didn’t know how to tell you how I felt.” He sounded genuinely sad when he spoke, the guilt evident in his quiet voice.
“Matthew, baby, don’t be sorry, ok? I really enjoyed every second of it, I promise. As for Shemar...you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve only ever had eyes for you. You’re kind of stuck with me Gube.” You felt the chuckle vibrate through his body at your words and you lazily smiled against his chest.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” You heard him hesitate and you wondered if he was going to finish his thought, hopefully before you knocked out cold. “Would you-would you maybe want to go out with me this weekend? Like on a-a date? You felt your heart swell in your chest at his question and slowly nodded against him. 
“I would love that, Matthew.”
Cherishing the feeling of holding each other in your arms, the two of you quickly succumbed to the drowsiness, falling into the most comfortable slumber you had ever experienced.
Tag List: @hopebaker​ @pastathighs​ @psychedellic-phase​ @gloryekaterina​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @racharr​ @etherealgubler​ @furiouspartyrebelhoagie​ @andiebeaword​ @liaabsurd​ @cielo1984​ @starkeybaby​ @rainsong01​ @moonlight-jukebox ​ @victomizedbyreginageorge
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soullessmocha · 4 years
Text
eyes wide open.
{ david the lost boys x reader }
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rating: pg-13
word count: 1922
summary: the reader finds themselves in this picture perfect morning. yet with one simple phrase they questions their whole reality. what is really happening with them?
warnings: afab!reader, mind manipulation, false reality, picture perfect family, death, slight gore, pure sadness, soft!david, sad!david, afab reader, some sad sad shit, not proofread bc i wrote this so late at night.
a/n: i had major inspiration to write something for david. i have been watching a lot of wandavision. this show really inspired the plot and the general story of this fic. i hope you do enjoy! i broke my own heart writing this. and no there are no wandavision spoilers in this. 
A yelp leaves your lips as two tiny humans graze past you causing you to jolt almost spilling your scalding coffee. “Boys! No running in the kitchen!” You yell to the rambunctious twins as they run around giggling as they chase each other before making their way into the living room. A sigh leaves your lips in relief before the tired smile turns into a warm loving smile as a hand is placed on your waist and a stubbled kiss is placed on your neck. “Good morning,” you greet your husband after putting a hand on the back of his head to which he chuckles. David slowly makes his way to the front of you. “Good morning, I see you didn’t spill your coffee this time.” David’s sly comment causes you to roll your eyes as you set yourself at the kitchen island where a breakfast was waiting for you. “Yes, luckily. You know we need to take Marko and Bruce out more. Get all of that energy out. I don’t know where they get it from.” You state before taking a sip of your warm coffee, the warmth causes you to shiver with satisfaction. An airy laugh bursts through the kitchen, “Ah yes, to be young again.” David teases once again before leaning himself on the kitchen island admiring you from afar with his striking bright eyes . These moments of sweetness weren’t rare but it was rare for you to catch him admiring you and giving you the soft look that reminded you of how much he truly loves you.
A soft smile creeps its way to your lips and you flop your head to the side, feeling the rollers in your hair to catch your head from going any further on your shoulder. “You can say that again.” Another sip of the sweet coffee trails over your tongue and you hear him sight as he also grabs his coffee. “I miss it. Sleeping all day, partying all night…” David trails off as he fills his mouth with coffee, his face being partially blocked by the family portrait mug. You blink at the statement. Why did that strike a cord in your chest? Why did it feel like you’ve heard that before? It was as if your consciousness did a full turn about. You blink a few more times and you can see David notice your sudden distraught state. Subconsciously you look down at your ring finger where two dainty gold rings lay, one with a perfect circle diamond and the other a simple band, symbolizing your marriage to the man of your dreams. Yet you don’t remember anything about the wedding. Why couldn’t you remember your own wedding? Also you couldn’t remember moving into the house. You couldn’t remember giving birth to your own sons.
“Darling?” David asks as he carefully sets down his mug, his expression feigning concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” He questions putting a hand on your back and rubbing low slow circles. Almost as if he was trying to ground you and bring you back to this reality. You shake your head, “What you just said-” you start but David only chuckles, “What? Being young again? I mean I’m sorry babe but we aren’t as young as we used to be.” You shake your head and stand pushing his hand away. “No, the other thing,” you start and look around the house carefully, looking at the family portraits from when the boys were newborns to the most recent Halloween photo that was framed perfectly adjacent to the fridge before focusing on your husband, “sleeping all day. Partying all night.” Then suddenly you hear his voice echo in your head and it hits you like a truck. “Never grow old… Never die.” Your words leave your lips in whispers. Suddenly your breathing picks up and your head starts to spin. Your chest heaves with each breath as anxiety and fear starts to fill your senses.
“What are you talking about, honey?” David asks with a seemingly worried and confused expression as he approaches you slowly. “Babe, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths, you’re starting to worry the boys.” he notes as the twins stand at the entrance of the open concept kitchen from the living room.
“No, no, no, don’t tell me to calm down David!” Your voice raises as you put a hand out to signal for him to keep his distance. The boys looked worried as well, almost as if you were scaring them. Were they even your kids? Are they a part of you? “Mom? Are you okay?” Marko, a little blonde boy asks you with wide eyes while his darker haired counterpart hid quietly behind him. “Go play outside sweetie, please.” You choke out as the boys hesitantly leave the kitchen hand in hand. David sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose starting to give up but he doesn’t want to give you that satisfaction. As the boys leave you point towards them with a shaking hand. You didn’t notice your whole body was trembling as memories flush to your mind overwhelming you. “David, wha- why- why can’t I remember anything?”
“Jesus, Y/N, don’t start this. It’s too early in the morning for this.” David complains as he rests a hand on his hip of his neat chinos and white pristine button up shirt. He was dress as if he was ready for his 9-5 office job. Then the memories started to clash before your eyes. The bleached mullet, the gloves, the black trench coat. Yet here he was in front of you wearing a neat button up shirt with slacks and a brown belt. His hair was short and moving freely, no longer constricted by gel. “The boys? You can’t- I mean I can’t- We can’t do that!” You say in a loud tone and David tenses, his eyes slowly getting darker with each word you talk. “I don’t remember us getting married David! I don’t remember the birth of our boys! What are you doing? What is this David?” Your stance starts to get defensive as you keep your distance. David didn’t budge or say a thing. “David what the hell is going on?!” You yell, finally snapping. David blinks at your state, surprised as he looks at your long hair in distressed curlers, your robe hanging off your shoulder and your body trembling in fear and confusion.
“Y/N…” David starts trying to hold onto your hands but you rip them away on instinct. You know he had the ability to play mind tricks but this was on a different level. There are faint memories of you talking about wanting a family and kids before you made your choice. You chose to be with him forever, you chose to sacrifice all of those things to be with him. Why was he doing this? Your brows furrow in hurt and disbelief. “What are you doing to me?” You choke out as tears brim your eyes blurring the fine line between the realities you were in. You could see half of him with the striking bright blond hair and donned all in black. Yet the other half was a natural blonde, with clean shave and neat clothes on. “Y/N, I can’t let you go like this.” David whispers, he was now cornering you. Yet you didn’t feel in danger, you felt concerned but not threatened by his nature. “Please, don’t do this right now.” Was he begging you to stop? David never did that. Not the David you knew. That David always got his way and did everything he could. He would never resort to requesting for someone to stop doing something.
“Don’t do what right now? David, what is happening to me?” You ask and this time you close the gap between the two of you. Your hands cupping his cheeks as you search grey-speckled blue eyes. “What do you mean you can’t let me go like this?” You questions again holding his face searching for answers in his deadpan expression. David only sighs and shakes his head, not knowing what to say or do. “Please David, I don’t want to be in a lie anymore…” You beg in a hushed tone pressing your forehead against his and holding him close. As you held his warm body it soon turned cool, no longer as if there was any body heat radiating off of him. Then you were numb. Your eyes were shut close as you felt his forehead touch yours but they slowly opened when he pulled away. It revealed a house you weren’t too familiar with. There was pressure in your chest as if the whole world was crashing down on it. David was kneeling in front of you. The only thing keeping you two apart was the large steak driven into a part in your chest inches away from your heart.
A soft whimper leaves your lips as they tremble in the crushing weight of the reality. He was doing this to send you off one last time. To give you the lasting memory of the thing he thought you deserved the most. A normal life. “Shhh,” he hushes you and pets your head trying to calm you. You were wet and sticky with an oozing dark liquid. You were cold. Yet you were still awake. “I didn’t want to send you off like this,” David starts his eyes boring into yours in almost a hypnotic way. You could see his eyes gloss over, he too was in pain. You could only shake your head for it was too hard to talk with all the pressure. Your hand grasps his and presses it against your cheek. It was his bare hand, something so rare to hold and feel. Even the action of kissing his palm made your body tense and seize from the pain. “Thank you,” you whisper into his palm holding it close. David gives a sigh of defeat and brings his forehead close to yours once again, pressing them together in unison. One hand held your face while the other held your waist. How badly he wanted to close the gap between the two of you.
Suddenly with the blink of an eye you were back in the reality you now know as false. David pulls away from you and the boys come to his side. Your two beautiful boys wrap their arms around you. Tears fall from your eyes and trail off your cheek. You hiccup from a quiet sob as you hold them close. Kissing both of their foreheads you pull away gently. You look at David and approach him wrapping your arms around his neck. You press a loving kiss to his lips. Your grip on him was deadly. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips. David can only smirk and press another chaste kiss and hug you once more. He admired your scent one last time before he knew it was time. “I love you too,” he replies before pressing his forehead into yours. Then your world faded to black, nothingness, stillness, almost deafening.
David pulls away from your lifeless body that was slumped against the wall. A single tear falls from his eye and he is quick to wipe it away. “I will see you again soon,” he whispers into the air before stepping back where his boys were waiting for him. All of their faces distraught with sadness and fear for their brother.
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supernovanim · 4 years
Text
Neighbours
This is my first attempt at fanfic. To be honest I’m super bored at the moment and this just kinda happened. Let me know if you’d like a part 2, if anyone actually reads this. I wrote part 2. Feedback welcome.
Summary: It’s the middle of a pandemic and you’re bored in your new house. Until your next door neighbour makes things a lot more interesting.
Pairing: Female Reader x Dylan O’Brien
Word Count: 1273
Warnings: swearing, voyeurism, light smut, I’m british so might get some americanisms wrong
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Lockdown Day 5
Looking out of your kitchen window you surveyed the bare earth with dismay. All those lovely trees, gone. At least the work had been completed before the pandemic properly hit California. According to the site survey if the roots had got any bigger your entire kitchen would have dropped three foot, which would have been especially awkward as you were now spending most of your time in here.
You’d moved into the house around a month ago. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined living in the Hollywood Hills, but your long-lost great aunt had apparently been something special in 1950s LA. And had left it all to you – given you’d only met her once, it felt more like the plot of a movie than real life. Reality hit when you moved in – the place was in urgent need of some love. The line of trees along the boundary fence being first on the list.
As they were your trees your lawyer had confirmed you didn’t need permission from next door to remove them. Still, you’d dropped a note in their mailbox, assuring them you were planning on erecting a much higher fence once the trees had gone. Except then lockdown had happened, and all your plans for a rose-entwined trellis had evaporated. Leaving you with this patch of bare earth, and next door with an uninterrupted view down into your kitchen.
You’d never met your neighbour. Apparently, he was some actor, which was hardly unusual for round here. Still, his house was nice, much nicer than yours. You could just see the end of a grey topped kitchen counter, and minimalist white floors. A fruit bowl sat on the counter containing a solitary lemon. Nice to see even rich people were struggling with grocery shopping.
Your kitchen was mostly brown – brown cupboards, brown tiles. Your aunt had redecorated in the 70s and not done much since. You’d put in a new fridge-freezer but would need to wait for the rest. Unfortunately, the salary of an advertising copywriter didn’t quite stretch to marble floors and sleek minimalist counters. You’d have to start saving.
Wondering how long you’d have to save to afford just one of your neighbour’s cupboard doors, you started making breakfast. At least nowadays you had time to do it properly, and you hummed quietly to yourself as you ground the coffee beans and cracked eggs into a bowl. Turning to your phone you opened Spotify and hooked it up to the nearby portable speaker, pressing play on the Supremes.
Just as you performed a perfect spin in front of the stove-top coffee percolator, you noticed a movement out of the corner of your eye. You looked up out of the window, which is when you finally met your neighbour. Well, saw him anyway. It was quite a sight. Dark scruffy hair, pale skin with a scattering of moles, a bit of stubble. He was wearing low slung sweatpants and a grey t-shirt, which was riding up as he reached up into a cupboard, showing a glimpse of toned stomach. Your mouth felt suddenly dry, and underneath your shirt you could feel your nipples instantly harden against the soft fabric. Jesus wept; the guy was gorgeous. And you weren’t just saying that because the only guys you’d seen in the flesh in the past week were delivering your pizza.
He closed the cupboard, holding a coffee mug. Then glanced out of the window, looking down to where you were standing, probably with your jaw hanging open.
Amber eyes met yours and blinked. He smirked, raising one hand in a slow greeting.
Suddenly conscious that your shirt hardly covered your ass, you raised a hand in return, smiled and met his gaze. Wow.
After a few seconds you returned to reality with a bang. This was a hot actor, you were a penniless copywriter. Romcoms weren’t real, and you had eggs to cook. But you couldn’t help but feel lockdown had just got a whole lot more interesting…
Lockdown Day 7
Since that morning breakfast meeting you hadn’t seen much of Dylan (yes, you’d immediately Googled him and found out his name). He wasn’t up as early as you, and certainly didn’t seem to spend quite so much time in his kitchen. Sometimes empty beer bottles would appear on his counter, so you guessed he was making the most of time off from filming.
Still, life must go one, which is why you’d arranged a Zoom date with someone you’d been messaging on Tinder. It gave you something to look forward to and would distract you from thoughts of the hot neighbour. You hadn’t had sex in weeks, and it was beginning to get to you. Hopefully this date wouldn’t just frustrate you further.
It was late evening, with the sun just setting over the spectacular view from your bedroom balcony. Inside, you looked critically at yourself in the full-length mirror. Was sexy lingerie too much for a Zoom date? What was the etiquette on these things anyway? You had chosen a pale pink lace demi-cup plunge bra. It barely covered your nipples, your breasts spilling out of the front. Teamed with the matching lacy shorts you had to admit you looked good. Obviously, you’d put a dress on before the call, but it paid to be prepared. The combination of not leaving your house, a lack of human contact, and oh yeah, the eye candy next door had made you really horny. A problem with the aircon wasn’t helping – the bedroom was sweltering. You felt a drop of sweat run down the back of your neck.
Without even thinking about it you walked into your kitchen, bare feet padding across the cool tiles. You flung open the freezer to try and find some relief from the heat. Pulling your hair up into a loose top knot, you fanned yourself with one hand, leaning on the freezer door with the other. In the darkening kitchen the only light was from within the appliance.
You glanced to your left and realised you weren’t entirely alone. Fully illuminated by his kitchen lights at his window stood Dylan, paused in surprise with a beer bottle raised to his lips. He raised his eyebrows and gulped, his eyes travelling across your skimpy outfit. Lowering the beer bottle, he mouthed something:
“Fuck”
Yeah, exactly, you thought. Covering your surprise, you bit your lip. He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of shorts and a backwards cap over his scruffy hair. His muscles were well-defined but not too much, exactly what you liked. A smattering of chest hair led your eyes down to his waistband.
Biting back a low groan, you reached into the freezer with one hand. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed an ice cube and pulled it out. Looking straight into his eyes you ran the cube down your neck, the heat from your skin starting to melt it on contact. Drops of water ran down your breasts to hit the lace of your bra. Your hand moved lower skirting your nipples and then running down your stomach. God, that felt good. His eyes followed your hand and then glanced back up at you. “Hot”, he mouthed silently.
You swallowed hard. And realised you only had five minutes before your date. You glanced at the growing bulge in Dylan’s shorts and internally shrugged. Popping the remains of the melted ice cube in your mouth you closed the freezer door, so you were now in darkness, and left the kitchen to go find your laptop. Good things come to those who wait…
Read Part 2 next!
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walkerwords · 4 years
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“The Savior Sessions” Part 12 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader
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IMAGE CREDIT: AMC/GENE PAGE
SERIES MASTERLIST
Summary: Part 12! When the reader finds out that Rosita is hurt and Eugene is missing, they leave for Hilltop in a hurry to help. With the help of old friends and new, they find themselves at the beginning of a war they never could have imagined. Meanwhile, back in Alexandria, Negan is left to his own devices. Takes place within 9x07 “Stradivarius” 
Word Count: 2959
Warning: None
Song I Wrote To: “Hit The Ground Running” by Alice Merton
Note: As I mentioned in a part, I am sticking pretty close to canon for the Whisperer War so if you have not caught up from season 9 all the way through the recent episode of season 10, there will be spoilers for it. Also, I never expected this series to evolve so much so a lot more of the story will be told from the reader POV, but don’t worry Negan will have a POV as well. I’m going to give both sides throughout! Also: timing is different, I changed a few things to fit the plot. 
---------
“Do you know what confuses me?” Negan asked. 
“A lot?” you offered and he hit you with his pillow. You were hanging out in Negan’s cell, the keys hooked to your belt. When Gabriel and Michonne had assigned you to be his therapist, they never said anything about you not being allowed inside the cell with him.
Even if they didn’t like it, you were still going to do it. The two of you were sitting side by side on the cot, staring at the stone ceiling together. 
“Can I finish what I was going to say?” he asked. You gestured for him to continue. “I was going to say, why do we call them Walkers?” 
“Because they walk?” you offered. You didn’t really know where it came from, but Rick had called the Dead that once and it just sort of stuck within the group. It was easier than saying the Dead all the time. 
“We don’t call people, breathers,” Negan noted. 
“Yeah, because they are people, Negan,” you reminded him, looking over at him. 
“So are Walkers,” he said. 
“Not really,” you said with a dismissive scoff. “They cease to exist as soon as they turn. They’re just shells.”
“If I turned, is that how you would see me?” he asked. 
“I don’t want to talk about that,” you said quietly.
“About what? Me becoming a Walker. It could happen one day, (Y/N),” Negan said. 
“I know that, but I would rather not think of you with white eyes and…” you trailed off, taking a breath trying to stay calm. “Don’t make me think about that.” You felt Negan take your hand and you slipped your fingers through his, letting the firm grip comfort you. 
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Not your fault,” you told him. “You know me, I get all doom and gloom.”
“Welcome to the club,” he sighed. “You know you’re allowed to feel like that, right? All doom and gloom,” he teased with a bump to your shoulder. 
“I know,” you said, leaning into him. Any time either of you initiated physical contact, it felt weird and good at the same time. You weren’t sure if anything was going to go any further at this point, but any time he reached for your hand or brushed his knuckles across your cheek, it made you absolutely melt inside. 
A yawn escaped you before you could help it. “You should go get some sleep,” he whispered. You nodded but had no intention of moving. “(Y/N)…” he said and you sunk down further on the cot. “You can’t stay here.”
“Says who?” you argued. 
“Me,” Negan said, “you snore.” You smacked his chest. 
“I do not,” you argued. 
“Come on, Teach,” he said, a new nickname he had come up with, “you don’t need to be sleeping in a cage. Not you.” Knowing he wouldn’t let up, you relented and sat up with a frown. 
“Fine, but I won’t be happy about it,” you said. 
“I would hope not,” Negan said with a wink.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” you said, pulling your hand from his slowly. 
“I’ll be here,” he promised. With a last look, you unlocked the cage door and secured it behind you. Waving goodnight to him, you headed out of the cell and up onto the street, ready for some decent dreams for once. Considering the feeling in your stomach from your evening with Negan, you figured that may happen after all.
--------
It felt way too early to be saddling up a horse. 
When Michonne had knocked on your door early that morning you were less than thrilled to be greeted by your fearless leader. She explained that she was going to be taking the newcomers to Hilltop and that she was worried about the cold greeting she knew she would be getting.
You didn’t really know what to tell the woman. You knew how Tara felt when she left Alexandria and you also knew that Michonne had pushed everyone in Hilltop away. Nonetheless, you agreed to keep an eye on things while she was gone and went to the main stable to hitch up the makeshift wagon. 
With Yumiko, the injured woman with the new group, still being injured, they had to set out at a slow pace. As you ran your hand down the side of one of the larger horses, you could see Judith frowning at her mom in the distance. You knew she was upset that Michonne was going to Hilltop without her, but Michonne wasn’t planning on staying long. 
Your mind began to wander then and so did your eyes. You searched for Rosita, but her dark hair was nowhere to be found. She had mentioned something about helping Eugene with something, but you hadn’t seen her since. Knowing Porter, he most likely dragged her out into the middle of nowhere. 
Still, you would ask Michonne to keep an eye out just in case. While Rosita was opinionated and brash, she was also the one person next to Jesus, one of your closest friends, that you trusted to talk to. Then again, there was still one other person who you confided in, but Negan wasn’t the best choice when he was the topic you needed advice on.
-------
Once you managed to get the horses saddled and ready to go, you made your way over to the new group. You hadn’t had any time to actually talk to them for more than a few minutes, but they seemed nice enough and you were glad that Michonne was giving them a chance at Hilltop. 
As you approached, you noticed Judith attempting to do some sign language. With a small laugh, you placed your hand on her shoulder and she looked up at you with a goofy grin.
“I’m trying,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. 
“You’ll get it,” you assured her before turning to the woman you knew as Connie. “It was nice to meet you,” you signed much to her and Judith’s surprise. Connie smiled at you and stood from her kneeling position to shake your hand. 
“You too,” Connie signed back and you nodded to her as well as the woman you knew to be her sister.
“You gotta teach me that,” Judith whispered as you took a few steps back from the wagon as they began loading up. 
“I got you, kid,” you promised, hooking her pinky with yours. As Michonne mounted her horse, she nodded to you and you returned the gesture. Waving to her daughter, Michonne and the others lead the newcomers out of Alexandria to start the trek to Hilltop. 
-------
It was much later when you found Judith alone. “Come on,” you said, “how about you and I get some training in?”
“Don’t you have things to do?” Judith asked, confused. 
“I always got time for you, Jude,” you said. “Also, who else is going to teach me how to use a blade if not you?” you teased, and she beamed up at you before running to get the practice swords Daryl had made for her a couple of years before.  
Since guns were not as readily available, you had to pick up hand to hand pretty quickly. You were never bad per se, but you were always better from a distance. Daryl had tried to teach you to use his bow and while you could when you had to, you never felt comfortable with arrows or bolts. 
Instead, you began observing Michonne and Judith’s sessions. Whenever you went to see Jesus or he ventured over to Alexandria, he would spar with you as well. As you twirled the wooden sword in your hand, you wondered what it would be like to spar with Negan. 
You weren’t sure how skilled he was in a fight when it came to specifics. Of course, you had seen him go after Rick and kill Walkers, but intricate fighting was a lot different than just swinging a baseball bat. 
Trying to stay focused on the task at hand, you circled the young girl, blocking her strikes. Considering how small Judith was, it was a challenge to get your own hits in, but you managed to work up a bit of a sweat as you practiced. Eventually, she collapsed on the ground with a dramatic sigh. 
“Why is it so hot?” she asked, pulling her hat off to shake out her hair. 
“Because you’re working hard, Jude,” you said, joining her on the grass. 
“You’re getting really good,” she complimented. 
“Why thank you, Jedi Master,” you joked and she looked at you confused. “Nevermind,” you said. “You know, I may have to get one of the blacksmiths to make me a sword of my own. Might be a bit better than the knives I carry now.”
“One like Mom’s?” Judith asked. 
“Oh, definitely not!” you said with a laugh. “I think you and your mom have the exclusive rights to those beauties. Maybe something a bit smaller, a short sword kind of thing.” 
“I think that would fit you,” Judith said after consideration. 
“You see Rosita anywhere?” you asked her, looking around again. 
“No, sorry,” Judith said, placing her hat back on her head. “(Y/N), can I ask you something?” she asked. 
“Of course,” you said, giving her your full attention. 
“Do you think we’ll ever all be together again?” Judith asked. 
“What do you mean?” 
“We never talk to the others anymore. Hilltop, Oceanside, even The Kingdom. I haven’t seen Aunt Carol in so long,” she said sadly. “I miss them.”
“I know, kid,” you said, dreading the conversation. You didn’t think you were the person who should be talking to her about this. “I think that one day we’ll all be back together. Hopefully sooner than later.”
“Uncle Daryl, too?” she asked, looking up at you with those big eyes of hers. 
“Yeah, your Uncle too,” you whispered with a small smile. Judith nodded, wiping at her eyes when suddenly she sat up straight. “What is it?” 
“That’s not one of our horses,” Judith said as she stood. Turning to where her eyes were aimed, you saw what had caught her attention. A rider had arrived at Alexandria and you recognized them immediately.
They were from Hilltop. 
“Stay here,” you told Judith as you got to your feet and jogged over to the stables. Gabriel was already there. “What’s going on?” you asked the Father as soon as you approached. 
“Rosita,” Gabriel said, frozen where he stood. You placed a hand on his shoulder. 
“What happened?” you asked the Hilltop rider. 
“We found her,” they said, “she’s hurt and Eugene is missing.”
“What do you mean he’s missing?” you asked, taking charge of the situation just as Michonne would have wanted. 
“I don’t know, but that’s all we got out of her before she passed out.”
“(Y/N),” Gabriel began, but didn’t get much more out. You knew what he was asking and you didn’t need to be asked twice. 
“Saddle a horse for me, Gabe, I’m riding for Hilltop.” 
------
Just before heading out, you stopped by the cell to explain what was going on. 
“So, you’re leaving?” Negan asked as he stood at the bars, his arms crossed. “Alone?”
“This is not my first time riding to Hilltop and I am going back with the escort. We’re going to ride fast so I can help with the search. I know those woods and surrounding areas well.”
“And what if whatever or whoever that hurt Rosita is still out there?”
“Then we will deal with it. I’m not going out alone, but Gabriel needs me to go and I have to go help them. I can’t just sit here.”
“I thought Michonne and Siddiq were already going?” he asked. 
“They’re pulling the wagon and they had to make some stops to pick up the new group’s things. I can get there faster on horseback.”
“So help me, (Y/N), if you do anything stupid and get hurt…” he said, bracing his hands on the bars. You put yours on top of his. 
“I will be fine. I think you forget that I’ve been a skilled fighter for years now. I know how to handle myself against the Walkers and the Breathers,” you said with a wink. He smiled at that. “When I get back, I’ll come to see you first, I promise.”
Negan was quiet for a moment, but then said, “Please be careful.”
“Always,” you promised and then reached up and paced your hand against his cheek. “I’ll be home soon.” 
“I’ll be waiting,” he said as you took a step back, and with a final look at him as if you were trying to memorize his face you turned your back and headed for your horse.
--------
You, along with the Hilltop escort, rode hard towards the community. 
All you could think about was Rosita and what the hell had happened. Ro was a fierce fighter and Eugene was brilliant. Whatever had gotten the jump on them had you worried.
Your mind went back to a conversation you had had with Negan. He had asked you what you thought was out there and you didn’t have an answer. There was a part of you now that had a feeling you were about to find out. 
It took a while to reach Hilltop, but when you did, the doors pulled open as your horses turned up the long road to the community. Diane was on watch and the surprised look on her face as you rode in was enough to make you feel nervous. You hadn’t seen anyone outside Alexandria in a while and it was like going to a high school reunion and you didn’t like it. 
However, your nerves were short-lived when you spotted a group of people saddling up horses and gearing up. You nearly crashed to the ground dismounting your horse when you saw a familiar vest.
A vest with wings. 
“Daryl!” you called, walking toward him, trying to get your legs back beneath you. Turning at the sound of his name, Daryl spotted you immediately and ran for you. You didn’t hesitate to pull him into your arms. “Holy shit,” you said as you clutched at him, giving him a hug that could have crushed bones. 
“Hey, (Y/N),” he said, pulling back. “What are ya doin’ here?” he asked. 
“Hilltop told us what was goin’ on. I couldn’t just sit there while Ro was hurt and Eugene was missin’, could I?”
“Rosita told us where she stashed him,” Daryl explained. 
“Stashed him?” you asked, confused. 
“Not a lot of information right now, but we got an idea of where he is,” Daryl said and then his shoulders dropped a bit. “It’s damn good to see ya,” he said and you reached out and gripped his shoulder. 
“I missed you too,” you said and he smiled. It was then that you noticed another member of your family had arrived at Hilltop as well. “Give me a second, yeah?”
“We’re leavin’ in a bit,” Daryl said and you nodded, walking past him and over to a woman with long white hair. 
“Your Majesty,” you greeted and Carol looked up at you and her face split into a grin. 
“Oh my god,” she said as she walked to you and gave you a big hug. “How are you?”
“Still kickin’,” you said and she rolled her eyes. You spoke to Carol for a while before Jesus exited Barrington House with an annoyed Tara following him. Jesus was dressed for battle and Tara was not thrilled about it. 
You waited until Tara had stormed off before approaching Jesus, your arms crossed. 
“You know,” you began, “pissing her off is never a good idea.” 
“You...,” Jesus said as he turned to face you before his face split into a grin. “My God, I’ve missed you!” He didn’t hesitate to bring you in for a hug. You both relaxed in each other’s arms and it just felt right to be with him again. You knew it was your fault that you hadn’t gone to see him.
Just because Michonne had prevented others from going into Alexandria, that didn’t mean you couldn’t go and see the others. Seeing Daryl at Hilltop with Jesus and Tara began to take you back to the war and then your thoughts were being tugged back to Alexandria, back to him. 
You couldn’t even think about what would happen if Daryl found out that you were getting cozy with his previous jailer. A part of you worried that he would be angry, but there was another side of you who thought that he would just not comment on it at all. Whenever Daryl was quiet around his family, you knew he was more than angry. 
When Jesus let go of you, you noticed the blade on his belt. “That’s nice,” you complimented and he unsheathed it to show you. 
“Been using her more and more lately,” he said proudly. 
“I’ve been thinking of getting one myself,” you said and he raised a brow. 
“Well, when you do, let me be the first to spar with you,” he offered. 
“You got it,” you said with a smile.
“Hey!” Daryl called, “Are we goin’ or what? Ya can catch up later!” With a roll of his eyes, Jesus mounted a nearby horse and offered you his hand. 
“Just like old times?” he asked and with a laugh, you joined him on the saddle and he took off after Daryl who was revving his bike. Just as you rode through the gates, you only hoped that you would be able to find Eugene in time. 
----
Note: This one was supposed to be a bit longer but I split it because this week is a nightmare with the holiday and shit. I will get up 13 soon and add onto it. this one isn’t my favourite, but I needed to set up everything that is about to happen. Can you guess? Also, if anyone has any nickname ideas for the reader from Negan, I will gladly take them. GN! nicknames please!
TAGS: amaroho  @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland​ @halszka-potter​ @yespleasejayhalstead​ @fmunegan @hoemadegrace
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twixtandshout · 3 years
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Tagged by @pidgeonpostal! And not tagging anyone else because I have SOILED the original template (soiled it!!) in deference to my [brushes off skirt] mostly clean public-facing appearance.
...I’ve been making a lot of Spongebob memes lately for someone who has not seen Spongebob.
How many works do you have on AO3?
71!
What’s your total AO3 wordcount?
...306,834. Jesus.
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Uh. Many! I do a lot of one-offs (and/or start long things I never finish) in many different places. My top three fandoms by fics written are RWBY (29), Undertale (25), Gravity Falls/Transcendence AU (4).
Bet you can’t tell where my hyperfixations have fallen. 
I’ve also got some Pokémon and Sonic the Hedgehog fics back on my ff.net account, or I think I still do, anyway, but let’s never go back there pls
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1. Sweeter Than Honey (Undertale): Taking a Completely unsurprising first place, with over 600 more kudos than the runner-up, the haphazard Underswap fic featuring a post-college self-insert I wrote just after high school! I shake my head some at how overblown and ridiculous the gap between this and all my other stuff is (c’mon, guys, I’ve written way better fics), but this is also the fic which prompted me (and at least one other person!) to start using they/them pronouns. I’ve gotten a lot of really sweet comments about how seen and appreciated it’s made people feel, so I can’t get down too far about it.
2. To Be A Hero (BNHA): I don’t count myself as part of the BNHA fandom, for a number of reasons, but for something that’s arguably the main motivation for the entire plot, Midoriya’s quirklessness is something I’ve never thought has been handled well. This fic marked the first time I (somewhat tentatively) claimed the disability label (thanks again to Sweeter Than for prompting that realization) to hold that lens over canon. It also really shot up my chart, dang! It’s the only thing here I’d consider “recent.”
3. Three-Sentence Shipping (Undertale): Self-explanatory.
4. Brothers Beyond Bonedaries (Undertale): Ah, the way-overcomplicated AU³ I got nowhere close to finishing. One of the things I really like about Undertale is the interface screw, how Toby Fox uses the medium of the video game to pull off crazy things and enhance his game, but most of the fic written for the fandom seems dedicated to explaining it away, grounding it, rather than taking it to the next step and messing with the medium of fanfiction when you keep the story going. I tried to do something cool like that here, playing with questions like narrator and authorship and breaking the fourth wall, even taking the “final boss” fight to a “totally separate” fic reached through the first by link – but, well, then I never finished it, which probably didn’t make anything less confusing for the poor folks who missed the intent.
5. Spirit and Such (Gravity Falls: Transcendence AU): A whole fic written to line out a particular image I had, which, naturally, never made it to the page. I consider it a bit of a cautionary tale for myself when it comes to writing (near-)original content; there’s a lot I look back on and cringe. I still love the characters, though – well, the important ones – and I think just stepping away from the tried-and-true Mizar formula nets it a star sticker here.
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
>w>; I try, but a lot of the time I just don’t have anything to say? Like, oh, you liked it? Neat. There’s not much to respond to in comments like that, and then I’m weighing falling down on an ~obligation~ to respond to every message in my inbox vs annoying people with copy-paste fluff responses all down the page. Plus I know I make more of an effort to comment on things that didn’t get the attention I feel they deserve, so if I’m driving up my own comment count with nonsense, am I preventing myself from being in a position to receive more comments later? And then if I do comment, am I being too effusive or running people’s ears off explaining things they don’t actually need to know? Sometimes people just want to express interest or admiration and don’t necessarily want a whole peek and guided tour behind the curtain.
Can you tell I have anxiety? x3;
Anyway, I do respond when I can. And I keep most of the comments I’ve gotten to go back and reread. 
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Hm, hmm. Lots of stuff in the TQ Nonsense series would probably qualify! I’m thinking of Unfixable, Wolfsong, and Ethanol. And there’s Bursting Through A Blood-Red Sky (I Can Live, I Can Breathe), of course, but that was always intended to have a fix-it epilogue. It’s just that I wrote it in a couple of hours day-of, stared at it, and decided I didn’t wanna just then. But now that’s As Long As You’re Still Burning Bright (I’m Still Awake), and that’s probably the best romance I’ve written, so that one worked out.
Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?
Now and then! When the urge strikes. Uhhh, I’ve got a series of Doctor Who x Undertale crossovers I actually made a whole dang verse for that never made it to print. Get a couple great comments on that every few months or so. I think the World Trigger x Undertale crossover is probably weirder, though, by virtue of WT being a very small fandom. My enthusiasm kinda sputtered out on that one.
Mostly I just daydream crossovers with whatever happens to catch my eye at any given moment. I have a lot!!!! Though odds are out on whether I manage to remember any of them once the initial thought’s passed, lol.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Gotten a couple eyebrow-raising comments, but I think mostly I’m just too small a writer to draw that kind of attention.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don’t? think so? Think my tastes are a little niche for most people to bother ^^;
Have you ever had a fic translated?
I had someone apologize once for any language mistakes in their comment cause they had to run it through a translator! That’s not what you asked (the answer is no), but it’s very flattering to think that someone liked my fic enough to read and comment despite the language barrier.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! :D @pidgeonpostal was gracious enough to agree to co-write Five Nights at Denny’s with me off an idea about shoes. This has fulfilled a long-held dream of mine (collabing with someone, not the shoes) and also introduced me to some lovely people.
What’s your all time favorite ship?
Who has time for just one? ;3c Honestly, I care more about the characters and how the relationship – any relationship – between them changes them than I do about ~A Ship~ as a solid, bounded noun-object. I’ve got characters I like more and less and feelings about who does and doesn’t have chemistry in which directions with whom, but finding anything that agrees with those preferences is hard, harder when you take alloromanticism into account. I’ll play in any sandbox with cool toys, especially if other folks have already built sick sandcastles there.
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
[kicks every single unfinished fic further under the bed] What nooo no WIPs here, everything on my account is either finished or does not exist
I’ve got a couple extra chapters of Sweeter Than floating around unposted, but 1. that fic’s a mess 2. high school Twixt and post-college Twixt are different people and trying to contort myself into three other me-shapes just cause people Like this fic is not something I’m super interested in 3. it’s headed for an emotional dip and I’d rather leave it where it is than post two chapters, stall out again, and leave folks with a bad end.
As for other fics... it’s looking more and more likely that v7 of my Yellow Brick Road AU will never actually make it out. >w>; I’ve got some really great ideas, but not enough to make me feel like I know what I’m doing, and that’s a big roadblock. Plus trying to engage with RT’s Atlas-Mantle worldbuilding in any serious capacity is... a headache. I can’t recommend the Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe enough, but it leaves some pretty big shoes to follow! And I’ve got small feet. <w<;
What are your writing strengths?
Dialogue’s fun, probably as an extension of characterization. I love tearing into what makes people tick, especially against the backdrop of their environment, the story they’re in, and the people they’re up against. Voice is a double-edged sword; I’ve been told my writing is really recognizable and individual, but on the other hand, I’ve been growing frustrated with with the limits of my narrative ability. There’s a strong rhythm I keep when I write (you might notice it here, even) but that leaves me feeling predictable and stale. I’m not sure I’m great at setting as a matter of course, but I’m pretty good at describing setpieces where the need comes up; that comes from my background in poetry, as does the fun I have with sublimating and abstracting complex imagery. And I think I bring some needed nuance to the universal. For good or ill, I don’t do what “everyone else” is doing.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Well, writing, for one thing. If I don’t know how something’s going to go and don’t have the urge to write it, it isn’t getting done, which means there’s a billion things that will never see the page and a few hundred more that are never getting finished. I lose momentum easily and have a hard time getting started, and I put way too much standing on finding a foothold with other people; as critical as I am of my work, I have high expectations for the stuff that passes muster, and it never seems to measure up. I’m also really uncreative. Yeah, I can mix up elements and extrapolate events, but coming up with things wholesale is really hard, which is why I avoid it wherever possible and steal/reskin stuff from other places instead.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
Something along the lines of “Hoo boy, I am Not qualified for this but hopefully it’s decent anyway.” Maria’s Spanish lines haven’t been a big deal – I’ve used it sparingly and, as a Latin language, it should be easy for English-speaking audiences to pick up on the gist – but I’ve had a harder time with Tai’s Chinese, both because I have Even Less background there and because it is, of course, an entirely different language system. If I write it out in English or Romanized italics, am I colonizing it or changing the meaning? If I write it out in the presumed-original characters (presumed because it’s Google Translate and who knows if I’m even barking in the right forest), am I confusing or alienating my presumed-majority-English-speaking audience? Where should I put the translations? Should I put the translations? And for Frisk’s sign language, thinking back, are the brackets I used instead of quotes alienating/infantilizing? I like that different characters give the text between a different feel, but I’m not an ASL speaker – and I’m pretty sure the word is “speaker,” which would only reinforce that that demographic would rather I didn’t do that. It’s important for all these characters, I think, that they use non-English language where it makes sense; it’s part of who they are. But as a white monolingual English-speaker, I don’t think I can really weigh in.
What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?
Thaaaat’d be Pokémon, followed closely with Sonic the Hedgehog. Whether those fics are still on my ff.net account or not (pretty sure I’ve purged them, but you never know) I’ve still got a couple saved to a folder on my current laptop, ostensibly so I can look back and see how far I’ve come and more practically to allow for the possibility of furthering group cohesion through public shaming.
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
I still like the idea behind The Man Who Is Atlas, and Burning Bright (Still Awake) gets props for being my current fic, though it’s currently in that spot where I’m excited to get new chapters posted but also quietly marking everything up in red pen. I think Harbinger gets the crown here, at least for now.
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cantdwellonanyofit · 4 years
Text
I Don't Think Enough Before I Say Too Much - Ch 3.
This is chapter is...........porn with plot. Whoops.
Synopsis: Eugene Sledge couldn't move on after the war. Couldn't move on from Snafu. He was tortured by the way Snafu just left him on the train. He knew he had to do something. He couldn't live like this.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28770078/chapters/70664139
Dedicated to Stolperzunge - go read everything she's ever written or said. I promise you won't regret it.
Snafu decided they should go to a different restaurant than the one they had been at earlier. Gene disagreed. Gene was beginning to understand Shelton was a big fan of letting sleeping dogs lie. Whereas Gene liked to emerge from the yard the dog had been in, with ripped clothing, teeth and bite marks tattooed on his skin, and then turn right back around and see if the dog felt any differently now. He welcomed ripping off a band-aid from a wound he inflicted. Just to get a good look at it. “I’d feel better if I wasn’t too embarrassed to ever go back,” Gene reasoned.
“What for? We ain’t gonna be here long. I was thinking you’d come home with me tomorrow.” Snafu rubbed the collar of his shirt. Gene noticed Snafu was always doing that when he felt unsure of himself. Gene smiled privately. “I mean, if you want to.” Snafu added.
Gene stared blankly at him. “Actually, I just came all this way to-,” Gene dropped his voice to a whisper, “make out with you in my hotel room,” returned to normal volume, “And then just head back home. A little, ‘nice doin’ business with you,’ after a two-day trip all the way here.” Gene turned his head and stared pointedly at Shelton. “Yes, Merriell, I’ll come home with you.”
Snafu was grinning, “Merriell?” Gene shrugged, “I can’t call you Snafu forever if we’re going to keep doing….this.” He gestured vaguely. “Plus, I like it.” Gene glanced at Snafu to try to catch his reaction. His wide smile made Gene smile in return. Seeing Snafu so happy was like ointment on a wound.  
“You might as well get used to it. You gonna be sayin’ it plenty if I have anything to do with it,” he mumbled. Gene laughed, cheeks darkening. They approached the restaurant, and Snafu held the door open for him. The workers turned, recognized Gene, and looked a bit apprehensive.
“Hey y’all, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I, uh- I just returned from the war.” He chose a half-truth, as was his tradition. He thought better than to add, ‘and this guy right here left me on the train when we were meant to run off into the sunset together. I was a little bit unreasonable about it.’ The man Snafu had been speaking to earlier, Mr. Alesce, wore a mask of sympathy and held up his hand in a ‘stop right there’ motion.
“Say no more, monsieur. It is forgotten. Se tirer une bûche, Come, sit.” He gestured to a table for two. Snafu and Gene sat, and promptly ordered. Gene had already decided on his order the first time he arrived, prior to his meltdown. And Snafu was happy to just eat whatever. Gene felt a bit awkward and wasn’t sure what to talk about. It was easy during the war; you didn’t talk about anything. You basked in the silence. Thankful that you had a chance to live another day. Being safe, and therefore being able to chat about commonplace things, felt strange on his tongue. And they couldn’t really discuss their relationship. If that was what they were calling it. Was he Snafu’s boyfriend? After one kiss? But it was more than one kiss. It was an entire lifetime together. It was watching your old self die, and the other man grabbing a shovel to help you bury him. It was the other man holding your hand and coaxing you through contractions as you birthed your new self. Right there in the dirt. Gene chuckled at his analogy, imagining Snafu holding his hand while he screamed and birthed a different personality. “What’re you laughing about?” Snafu asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Gene rubbed his hands over his face. Maybe he was descending into madness trying to adjust to civilian life. Snafu raised an eyebrow. “What did you do when you got home?” He offered instead.
Snafu breathed in deep and blew out a lengthy sigh. “Well, I took a bus home. To Jackson, in East Feliciana Parish, by the way. Just in case I misplace you between now and when we ‘sposed to head to my place.” Snafu playfully remarked, “S’about an hour from here by bus, give or take. I went home, I lit up a cigarette, and then the next day I got back to work. I install air conditioners, fix ‘em up.” Snafu paused, “And I just do that now. Smoke, work, smoke, eat, sometimes sleep. It’s an easy routine.”
Gene couldn’t help but feel insecure about Snafu returning home and settling into a routine. Especially so easily. He just moved on with his life as if he’d never left. Would he have remained content like that? Never wondering where Gene was, or how he was doing? Never once imagining how things could’ve been different? “How did your parents take you coming home?” Gene asked, taking a considerable gulp of his drink. Since the war, it was like he could never quench his thirst.
“They’re dead,” Snafu answered easily.
Gene was glad he finished swallowing his drink or he’d have spit it right at Snafu. “Oh….” Gene’s shock left him at a loss for words. “I’m sorry, I had…no idea.” Of course, he had no idea. Snafu never talked about his life back home. Snafu knew that. He shrugged, “It was a while ago.” Snafu took his turn sipping from his drink and reached for a cigarette. He seemed completely unphased by the discussion. He tilted the pack towards Gene to offer him a cigarette. Gene took it.
“How did they die?” Gene wasn’t sure if he was overstepping boundaries to ask such a sensitive question, but he thought maybe more detail would help ease the tension. Maybe he could offer some support. Like a good boyfriend?/partner?/lover? would.
“They killed themselves.” Gene’s face immediately contorted in regret, “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna shut up now.” Gene hesitated, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted, Matthew 5:4,” he recited quietly.
“I think you go to hell if you kill yourself. Ain’t that what they say?” A smirk played at the corner of Snafu’s mouth. Gene let his forehead hit the table, where he left it. He hoped the ground would swallow him up. Snafu laughed. “It’s alright, Gene. I’m givin’ you a hard time. What did you do when you got home? Besides dream about me every night?”
Gene chuckled softly, “First, I’m sorry. For everything I just said. Second, shut up,” he lifted his head, “Well—uh, I tried to enroll in classes, but they didn’t think I learned anything useful in the Marine Corps. So, I got pissed off and went home. Other than that….” Gene trailed off. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I just kinda… zoned out a lot,” he finished blandly.
“They’re fuckin’ stupid if they think you ain’t qualified. So, that’s probably the best thing that ever happened to you. What the hell could they teach you that you don’t already know anyway? You’re like a genius.” Snafu took a long drag from his cigarette. “But you really did nothing all this time? I thought you’d be in school, working…Doing all kinds of stuff.”
Gene found it interesting that Snafu thought he’d just return home, put away his uniform, and be the same person he had been. While Gene thought Snafu would be struggling just as much as Gene did. Did they really know each other at all? Gene’s teeth worried at his bottom lip. “Nope, I already told you,” he leaned in closer so Snafu could hear him as he lowered his voice, “My life stopped after you.”
Snafu shook his head, as if unwilling to accept the answer. Perhaps discussing their lives wasn’t a benefit to either of them right now. Their food arrived, and they both ate in silence. Halting their conversation abruptly and watching each other. Gene always felt their connection to each other strengthened during quiet moments. It was as if their affection was more pronounced when the world was at peace, and it was just the two of them existing in a shared space. Gene worried whether he and Snafu could make it through the normalcy of life together. Maybe their love was too used to chaos to survive outside it. But he was determined to see this through. He knew how he felt. It had to count for something.
They finished their meals, and Snafu snagged the bill the second it hit the table. Gene argued with him about it. Snafu responded by staring at him, smiling. Gene wondered if Snafu was purposefully aggravating because he enjoyed the reaction he got out of Gene. He eventually gave in and let Snafu win. They both thanked Mr. Alesce for his hospitality and walked out into the sticky evening air.
Snafu looked around him suddenly, and Gene stiffened. Then he too began looking around. Trying to spot what had sent Snafu on lookout duty. As he was scanning, Snafu had moved to stand so close to Gene their shoulders were touching. He then laced their fingers together. This was dangerous. Gene was thrilled. They maintained their hold on each other’s fingers until they turned onto the street the hotel was on. They’d be sure to run into other people. Gene reluctantly pulled his hand away and took a step sideways to create distance between them. It felt like a mile.
They made their way into the hotel, up to the hotel room, and Gene again let Snafu inside. As was their routine, Gene turned to close and lock the door. When he turned back around, Snafu was on him again. Gene laughed softly into Snafu’s mouth. Snafu moved his hands to grip Gene’s biceps, then traced his hands up Gene’s shoulders and over, down his back, and landed both hands firmly on his ass. Gripping him and pushing Gene’s hips against his. Gene resumed their earlier battle and slid his tongue against Snafu’s. Placing his hand on the back of Snafu’s head. Threading his fingers in those soft curls. Snafu started walking backwards, pulling Gene along by the grip he still had on his ass. Gene broke the kiss to laugh as they moved.
“Don’t want to let go,” Snafu reasoned.
The back of Snafu’s knees hit the bed and he sat down. Gene immediately bent to rip off his shoes, breaking Snafu’s contact with him. Snafu grumbled. Gene hastily tossed his shoes aside, then put his knees on either side of Snafu’s hips and sat. Balancing himself on his thighs. Snafu’s hands moved to Gene’s hips. Gene wrapped his arms around Snafu’s neck and inched himself forward. Snafu immediately assisted, pulling Gene’s hips towards him until he was sitting right on top of the swell in Snafu’s trousers. Gene’s mouth went dry. Snafu slowly closed his eyes. Savoring the feeling.
Gene again lifted his hips, then ground himself against Snafu. Both men moaned. Gene suddenly worried about whether anyone occupied the neighbouring rooms and made a shushing noise. Again, repeating his movement. Softly gasping out a moan. Snafu closed the gap between he and Gene and kissed him with fervor. Even though it was their first night together, Gene easily admitted to himself he’d be disappointed if he and Snafu didn’t sleep together tonight. He was high with nervousness and overwhelmed with lust.
He began unbuttoning Snafu’s shirt as they kissed. Snafu began doing the same for Gene. Gene undid the button on Snafu’s trousers so he could untuck the shirt and slide it off his shoulders. As soon as the skin was exposed, Gene immediately broke their kiss and moved to Snafu’s neck. Tracing a line with his tongue from his neck to his earlobe, taking his earlobe in his mouth. Snafu slid Gene’s shirt off, and gently pinched one of his nipples. Gene stopped his attack on Snafu’s neck and let out a groan. He knew he looked confused, startled at his own reaction. Snafu smiled, “Thought you might be the type to like that.”
“You got practice with a lot of types?” Gene inquired.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little red head, cher. You’re the only type I wanna practice with.”
“You’re Smart,” Snafu started sensually kissing Gene’s neck between words. “Kind, funny,” each kiss made Gene’s stomach prickle with want. He’d felt butterflies in his stomach before, but this was something else entirely. Snafu’s voice became a husky whisper, “Fiesty….Sexy,” Gene had never received such compliments. He knew he was blushing, but he didn’t care.
“I wanna lay you down,” Snafu whispered, but it was a question rather than a statement. “I’d like that,” Gene responded, breathlessly.
Snafu picked Gene up with him as he stood. Gene lifted his legs to wrap around Snafu’s hips. Snafu turned them both around and laid Gene down. Snafu initially remained leaning over Gene, pressing kisses to Gene’s left collarbone, then lowered it to his nipple and sucked. Gene tried to shove his entire fist in his mouth to quiet himself. His senses were so overwhelmed he was having difficulty thinking. Overstimulated by his anxiety and his arousal. Snafu moved down until he was kissing Gene’s ribs, his stomach. Snafu unbuttoned Gene’s pants and dragged them down and off. Gene could only hear the loud pounding of his heart. It was his only thought. He’d never done this with anyone before. He worried he wouldn’t know what to do. That he might do or say something embarrassing. Snafu kissed along Gene’s left and then right hip bones.
As he grabbed the sides of Gene’s boxer shorts to pull them off, Gene blurted out, “Are we dating?”
Snafu paused and looked up. “You gonna make me propose to ya?” He joked. Gene was too nervous to laugh. Snafu must’ve finally realized Gene was shaking. “Mon chou, it’s alright.” Snafu hurriedly moved to sit beside Gene. Putting the back of his hand on Gene’s cheek, like he was checking his temperature. “You gotta talk to me. I can’t read your mind, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” Gene whispered. “Then what can I do for you?” Snafu asked. His hand gently massaged the scruff on Gene’s jaw.
“I’ve never done this before. I’ve never even kissed anyone before. But I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I just need to know that you’re not going to go and disappear again.” Snafu nodded, “I’m not going anywhere, Eugene.” Gene took a deep breath, “And that you’re not just saying that to calm me down.” Snafu grabbed hold of Gene’s jaw and tilted his head, so they were looking into each other’s eyes, inches apart. “I’d say a lot of things to get your pants off, but none of it would be lies or empty words.” Gene laughed softly, his breath still shaking. “You already got my pants off.”
Gene lifted his hips and slowly slid his shorts down. It wasn’t anything Snafu hadn’t seen before. Hell, they’d both seen each other naked about a thousand times during the war. But Snafu still looked Gene up and down carefully. Like he was trying to take a mental picture of every inch of skin his eyes touched. Gene didn’t know what to do while Snafu stared, so he reached his hands towards Snafu’s pants and yanked on them. “You got me feeling crazy sittin’ here naked and you’re still all dressed.” Snafu walked on his knees until he neared the edge of the bed, then stepped off.
Snafu took his shoes off, then ripped both his pants and shorts off in one swift movement. Gene laughed loudly. Snafu seemed completely unflappable to Gene. He envied it. Snafu finished stepping out of his pants and returned to the edge of the bed. He waited for further direction from Gene. Gene licked his lips and stared at Shelton. Thinking of his next move. He rolled over onto his side and pulled himself towards Snafu. Snafu tilted his head, curious. Then Gene moved until he was staring right at Snafu’s cock. “You tryin’a make friends with it?” Gene ignored him and wrapped his lips around the head. It tasted…like Snafu. The salt of his skin, the hint of his soap. He swirled his tongue, trying to think of all the things he’d heard boys bragging about receiving from girls. Snafu’s hands moved to Gene’s head and threaded gently in his hair. Gene glanced up and took more of Snafu into his mouth.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Snafu whispered, “I’m gonna finish any second you keep that up.” Snafu gently pulled Gene off him. He planted his knees on the bed and moved until he was beside Gene. Planting a hand on the small of his back. Gene turned his head to look back at him. “I’m gonna assume you ain’t never had fingers inside of you before?”
Gene went red. “You’re a real romantic, Merriell.” Snafu laughed, “I’m asking if it’s okay.” Gene rested his head on his arms, tilted to the left so he could watch everything Snafu was doing to him. “Nope, can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” Snafu nodded and slipped his index finger in his mouth. Coating it with saliva. He grabbed one of the pillows and motioned for Gene to lift his hips. Gene did, and Snafu shoved the pillow under him. Raising his ass in the air. Then he moved to spread Gene apart. Gene suddenly felt embarrassed and turned his head until he was lying flat. “Nuh uh, look at me, Eugene.” Gene felt the pressure of Snafu’s finger at his entrance, and he tensed.
“S’alright, chou, look at me. Please?” Shelton’s voice was like melted chocolate. Coaxing him. Gene took a deep breath and let it out. Hearing the shake in his voice. He turned until he and Snafu were looking at each other. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. If you can’t already tell, I’m into this. Into you. Want you, Gene. So bad.” He was whispering, keeping his tone velvety. Gene relaxed. Snafu put his finger back in his mouth to recoat it, then immediately pushed it inside of Gene. Gene clenched again. Snafu rubbed his lower back.
“T'inquiète, mon chouchou. Tout va bien. T’es vraiment beau. Calme-toi.. Détendez votre corps.” Gene chuckled, “I have no idea what the fuck you’re sayin’.” Snafu laughed softly as well, “Relax for me.”
“I’m tryin’. I’m nervous.” Gene tried to focus on relaxing. “You’re doing great,” Snafu encouraged. Gene took a few deep breaths, and then went limp. Snafu took that moment to curl his finger upwards. Gene let out an embarrassingly loud noise.
“Shhhhhhhh,” Snafu laughed out. Gene bit his hand and moaned desperately. Snafu moved his finger slowly, massaging inside of Gene. Gene was a mess. He was making noises he had no idea he could make. Eyes glazed. Hips moving without him realizing it. Meeting Snafu’s fingers.
“Merriell,” Gene groaned out.
“That’s one. I’m gonna start tallying. Buy me a bible so I can keep track.” Gene would’ve laughed, would’ve felt guilt at what he was doing in the eyes of God, but he was bordering on death.
“Gonna add another,” Snafu warned.
“I don’t think you can. I’m going to drop dead.” Gene responded.
“You betta not, this is nothing compared to what I’m gonna do to you.” Gene couldn’t wait. This was the way he wanted to die all along. He just didn’t know it. Snafu added another finger, and Gene melted. He was making embarrassing whimpering noises. When Snafu removed his fingers, Gene sighed.
“You doing ok, Gene?”
Gene could only nod. Words were lost to him. He was still bent awkwardly, watching Snafu’s every movement. Snafu spit heavily into his hand multiple times and coated his cock with it. Gene rolled over onto his back and watched him. Snafu moved to kneel between Gene’s legs. Grabbed him under the knees, dragging his hips until his ass bumped Snafu’s cock. Gene let his legs spread, knees bent, feet flat on either side of Snafu’s legs. Snafu lifted Gene’s hips and teased his entrance with his cock. Rubbing slowly, getting him wet. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” Snafu told him.
Gene looked up at him. Maintained eye contact as Snafu started pushing the head into him. The stretch made Gene arch his back off the bed. “You ok? Am I hurting you?”
“I’ll be alright,” Gene responded. His voice hoarse. “Don’t stop,” he pressed.
“Yessir,” Snafu responded. He didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed. Then he remained kneeling, staying completely still. Waiting for Gene to tell him when it was ok. Gene didn’t have the energy to form words. He just wrapped his legs around Snafu’s hips, heels digging into his ass and nodded his head. Snafu held onto Gene’s hips, pulled out, and slowly went all the way back in. “Merriell,” Gene prayed. His new Lord and savior. He’d worship him every day after this.
“That’s two,” Snafu bragged. Gene laughed and reached his hand out to touch himself. Feeling shy, but too filled with want to care. He slowly stroked, never taking his eyes off Snafu’s face.
“You feel good, Gene.” Snafu whispered. Gene moaned softly. “You like a lil’ bit’ of talking?” Snafu asked. Gene arched his back before pressing it back down into the bed.
“I knew you’d be kinda dirty.” Snafu whispered. Gene breathed out another moan. “Fuckin’ knew it.” Snafu laughed. “That feel good, baby?” Gene blushed at the term of endearment. It felt so feminine, but he didn’t mind. Not in this moment. Not like this. Spread open for Snafu and moving their hips in unison.
“Yes. Fuck yes.” Gene admitted, moaning in rhythm with their movements. Breathe in-Snafu pulls out, release a luxurious moan-Snafu pushes back in. Repeatedly. Gene gently thumped his heel against Snafu in a gesture of ‘giddy-up’ and eased up onto his elbows. “Do it, come on,” Gene egged him on. Snafu grabbed Gene’s hips and this time when he pulled out, he paused, “Cover your mouth for me please.” Gene squinted his eyes in confusion. “What?”
“I said cover your mouth.” He repeated. Gene brought one hand up and covered his mouth, so he was only propped up on one elbow. Snafu rammed back in. Gene keened. His other elbow buckled, and his back hit the bed. He ground his palm into his mouth to quiet himself. Snafu repeated the movement, the sound of Gene’s ass hitting Snafu’s hips was pornographic. Gene was going to hell for sure. No doubt about it now.
Snafu took what he wanted, and Gene tried to encourage him with noises, his name, prayers, anything he could think of.
“I’m gonna come inside you, Gene.” Snafu moaned out.
“Fuck,” Gene gasped, continuing to match his strokes on his own cock to Shelton’s hips. He came unexpectedly and his vision tunneled. Everything went black, and all he could feel was the pure electricity running through his bloodstream. His heartbeat took over all his other senses. His hand stilled on himself. He shook hands with death. And then as his spasms slowed his vision slowly came back.
Snafu looked like a deity to Gene. Coated in sweat, panting, working through his own orgasm. His hands dug sharply into Gene’s hips, most likely leaving bruises. As Snafu’s breathing slowed, he gently laid down on top of Gene. Kissing him when he finally got close enough. Gene kissed back like his life depended on it. They both took their time. Calming down, quieting their breathing. Kissing every few moments. Snafu ran his hands through Gene’s hair and laid his head down on his chest. Massaging his head gently.
“Was that good?” Snafu asked.
“Don’t fish for compliments.” Gene responded. Snafu laughed. “I’m serious. Didn’t hurt you? You okay?” Gene moved, wiggled his hips slightly, “I dunno, might be paralyzed, but it was worth it.” Snafu laughed.
“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Sledge, sorry I fucked your son so good he’s now bound to a wheelchair. I’ll pay the medical expenses. Love, Merriell Shelton.” Gene answered with a laugh. “You’ll have to write another letter after that one. “Dear Mr. Sledge, sorry I killed Mrs. Sledge with my previous letter. All the best, SNAFU.” Snafu and Gene laughed. Snafu kissed Gene’s chest and then moved to pull out. Gene could feel warm liquid slide down his ass cheeks as Snafu pulled out, “That’s absolutely obscene?” He said suddenly.  Snafu looked up questioningly. “Huh?”
“Nobody tells you that happens. That was……Ugh.” Snafu was laughing. You better pay a real good tip to those nice cleaners. Gene was horrified, “Burn the sheets. We’re leaving.” Snafu chuckled.  He went to the bathroom to wash up. Stole Gene’s toothbrush, peeking his head out of the bathroom to ensure Gene saw. Toothpaste at the corners of his mouth. Gene smiled, rolled his eyes in jest. Gene went as soon as Snafu returned. By the time he came back, Snafu had at least laid different sheets down.
“To answer your earlier question, I’d like to be. Dating, that is.” Snafu said. “I’ll buy you flowers or something to seal the deal.”
“You’re a shit. I don’t want flowers. But I do want you to—you know, be my boyfriend. I want that.” Gene responded. Snafu kissed him. “You’re having a lot of firsts today. Anything else you wanna try?”
“All kinds of stuff. I’ll make a list.” Gene laid down. Head light. Snafu slid over next to him and wrapped an arm around Gene. Gene laid his head on Snafu’s chest and closed his eyes. “I love you, Merriell,” he whispered. But he was asleep before he heard whether Snafu responded.
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twilightknight17 · 4 years
Text
So I fell asleep last night before I could make the post, but I got P5 Scramble yesterday and I’m having a blast so far. ^_^
I’m probably going to go through it the same way I did my Royal playthrough, so if you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t click through on these posts!
Before we start, I just want to mention that I don’t really know anything about the story. Somehow I’ve managed to avoid spoilers for an entire year except for a few small things.
I do know the identity of (who I assume is) Kyoto’s Jail Monarch. (Monarch is kind of a weird, formal word. I think I liked Jail King better. Or... Warden? Warden might have been the best choice.) ANYWAY, I think I know their identity, and by extension, I have a vague idea of why Shadow Joker exists. Other than that... You’re getting speculation and bullshit untainted by later plot revelations. XDDD
I did find it funny that when I booted the game up, I got a “No save data found, unable to start game” message. Like... no shit, PS4, it’s a brand new game. But the little starting tutorial fight was cool, and I liked the opening movie!
The police briefing was...interesting. It’s good to see them actually being somewhat logical? Like... considering everything that happened the year before, it makes sense that they’d assume this is the Thieves again. They have no way of knowing that there’s no way to access Palaces anymore. This isn’t really the Thieves MO, though. Except for the guy who confessed to document tampering. The author shredding his work for no reason and the guy streaking through the criminal justice headquarters don’t seem like they did anything wrong. Those seem more like psychotic breakdowns.
But... I guess we don’t know if the police ever knew anything about Black Mask, or if Shido was convicted on only real-world crimes and not the metaverse hits he ordered. I wonder if that’ll get elaborated on.
Zenkichi’s introduction was him laughing at the streaking guy in the middle of this Serious Police Meeting, so I think I’m gonna like him a lot. ^_^
Anyway, the “higher-ups” really want this case closed, according to “Commissioner Kaburagi”, who I already don’t like. If you’re the police commissioner, Makoto really would be a better choice, holy shit. She’s already prepared to go after Akira, who is the only Thief they know the identity of, so I guess that’s fair. But still. Has he not been falsely accused of enough for a lifetime?
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Although... if you’re gonna look up all his life details, can you maybe... share some? Just a few things? Hometown? How are his parents? Anything?
*
Coming back to Leblanc was cute. Got some Trickster’s Maze vibes from the initial text conversation where they were talking about how people kept not responding to texts, but I think it’s all good. Love that the Sayuri is still on the wall, and that Morgana’s been home with Akira.
Naming the app “Emma” is never going to stop being hilarious to me, because reasons.
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Y’know, Atlus, this would work a lot better if he could like...respond to their curiosity. At least these dialogue options seem to suggest that talking things out with his parents went well. Even “I missed you” isn’t inherently negative. He’d miss them either way.
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.......so when my boyfriend gets back from his soul-searching vacation, he’ll be welcomed back with open arms, right, Ryuji? Right?
Meanwhile, for summer break plans, Yusuke wants to go to Kyoto for a month-long art tour. Unless...
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Never change, dear. Never change.
Nice of Sojiro to water my plant and keep my room from drowning in dust, but he really couldn’t have replaced the bedframe with literally anything other than the plastic storage crates? XD The attic looks so empty and lonely without the shelves of trinkets and plushies, and the TV.
So my reaction to this next part was literally, “LAVENZA, IT’S BEEN LESS THAN 24 HOURS”. X’‘‘D Akira really can’t catch a break. But Lavenza’s dialogue sounded actually sad that he was being dragged into this again. And she’s promised repeatedly that she’s going to be there for him. It’s sweet, even though my room is still a prison and she’s still using torture equipment. Iron maidens, Lavenza, really??
I’m a little concerned that Igor’s not around, though. Lavenza did the dream/reality/mind/matter speech instead. Where is he? I know he’s never around for spinoffs but considering my headcanons I’m very curious now. And why didn’t he like... tell Morgana that Lavenza said ruin is coming again? Even if we don’t count thirdsem events, Morgana still knows that he’s Hope, and he still has a bond with the Velvet Room. Talk to your cat damn it.
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Oh no, she’s cute and Alice-in-Wonderland themed. I’m doomed.
She called it her “EMMA keyword” and I immediately blurted “what? keyword??” and then everything went directly to Hell immediately. Keyword was the key word, I guess. X’‘‘‘DDD
And you can tell it’s been six months, considering that these nerds got caught almost immediately. And got their hands bound. And got dragged to the throne room and forced to kneel!
...I’m doomed.
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Someone at Atlus looked directly at this fandom and all the fanart of the interrogation and said, “Yeah, they’d be into that.” XD Steppy steppy. At least she’s not a rapist like Kamoshida, but jeeze, we keep getting beaten up and thrown in the dungeon by royalty. All we need is a princess and we’ve got a whole royal family!
Although, I suppose the prince didn’t bother with a dungeon. XD
I think it’s interesting that apparently the guards tried to take our Desires and failed. I guess being a persona-user means your mental state is stable enough that something like that can’t manifest.
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Oh no, she’s cute. I love her. Another for the collection of Joker’s baby siblings. This is number... 5? She kind of reminds me of Jose, a little. I’ll be interested to see what she is, since she’s got amnesia right now. She can’t be just a straight AI.
But if she’s Yald’s mom, I’m also going to be majorly weirded out.
I really like the gameplay? It’s so interesting to see how the characters move and fight when they’re not limited to turn-based attacks. And I like being able to jump to different points and use them to ambush enemies. I don’t fully understand all of it yet, and it’s hard for me to keep an eye on things like status ailments and my teammates because everything is so chaotic, but I’m sure I’ll get it.
I did die to a miniboss, and when I hit “return to checkpoint”, it gave me the prompt to select a language for the voice acting again. I dunno what was up with that. X’D And I’m baffled by the concept that you can just leave the metaverse and come back and it restores all your health and stuff. No penalty. Time doesn’t pass. You didn’t waste a day. Have the kids finally learned that we are capable of entering and exiting more than once on the same day? Hallelujah.
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...this boy is angry that we have to deal with the Jails instead of having a BBQ feast. Never change, Yusuke.
If you go by the crepe shop in Shibuya, Morgana still doesn’t think you’re a crepe person. I’m so tired, Morgana. It’s also a bit weird and forced that Iwai and Takemi are both out of town. We couldn’t have seen at least one of them? I know we’re not gonna be able to use those shops when we’re on the road, but we could worry about that then.
(Disturbingly easy to return a gold bar that you apparently bought off the dark web. Omg. That was hilarious.)
AND THEN YOU GET UP THE NEXT DAY AND ZENKICHI IS JUST IN YOUR HOUSE? SITTING IN THAT CHAIR? That is not the “detective chair”, sir, that is my boyfriend’s chair, and you need to move. At least he likes the curry, but jesus fuck. Sir, I have unresolved trauma of adults coming into my house to snoop into my business. Get out of my house. X’D
You give me a detective sitting in my boyfriend’s chair and then immediately send me to a taping of the same show in the same studio where I first met him. God, P5S, you’re trying to kill me.
Alice clearly knows that giving out the keyword is doing something. She’s being very deliberate about this. But I don’t think she’s actually aware of the Jail. Love that she’s so arrogant that she can’t imagine that Akira just... didn’t use the keyword, and that’s why she can’t control him.
So I guess the Jail Monarchs are called such because they’re imprisoning other people’s shadows in their distortions. So these are people that want control over something to the point that it distorted their worldview. Part of me wants to go off on a ramble about how this relates to Mementos or Apathy Syndrome, but I’ll wait and do that when I have more information. I’ve got some more of the dungeon to do, and I cannot wait to see Alice’s boss fight.
I’m having so much fun. I really missed these kids; they’re grea--
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.......I hate these children. X’‘‘‘‘DDDD
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virginbutstillahoe · 4 years
Text
supernatural: an essay
hello fellow clowns.
i need to get some things off my chest, so here we are.  read it, don’t read it, it’s up to you buttercup.  love you.
i’ve been watching since i was 11.  since 2009.  this show raised me.
my father was a really bad guy.  i’ve alluded to it a few times on here but, he was a really abusive and horrible man.  so, i leaned on this show.  it taught me, that even with an abusive father and a difficult hand dealt to me, that i could keep fighting and find the family that i could call my own.
it taught me that family didn’t end in blood.  you control your destiny.  love is stronger than your crap life.  don’t give up, baby.
i am angry about the finale.  enraged even.  but i still love this show and the actors and crew members that made it possible.  that will never change.  this show is what pulled me from the ledge more times than i can count.  made me laugh when i thought i never could again.  did more for me than words can describe to be perfectly honest.  
you may say, molly, it’s a stupid show with bad special effects and sometimes bad acting, there’s no way it’s that special to you.  and to you i say, i am so sorry for you that you don’t know what it’s like to love and enjoy something with your whole heart.
----
now, dean winchester is my favorite character of anything ever.  yes, castiel is a CLOSE fucking second, but dean is just god tier for me.  he is so human and so much like me.  he is the main thing that made me realize, hey, it’s okay to take your time in growing and to be damaged.  it’s okay to be flawed.  he is everything castiel said in his final moments and more.  a true lover.  a man who would put his family (blood relatives and non blood relatives) before anyone or anything.  
destiel aside.  it is OUT OF CHARACTER for dean winchester to not immediately ask for jack to bring cas back as soon as he had all of god’s power.  completely.  jesus christ he even asked GOD to bring him back.  
to continue, dean not asking to see cas as soon as he finds out that he’s not in the empty?  you have got to be kidding.  
i am a destiheller.  i won’t even try to lie here, i am.  but seriously, let’s just say for the sake of the argument, that dean isn’t in love with cas.  still, dean winchester would have wanted to see his best friend.  cas died.  dean would have wanted to find him and hug him immediately if he knew he was around.
jesus, didn’t you see him when he found cas in purgatory?
there is literally NO reason that castiel wasn’t present in the finale.  zero.
----
i am okay with dean dying for the ending.  i actually really am.  i liked the idea of dean dying to save two children, and doing what he loved. but immediately after they defeat chuck?  why?  couldn’t he have had a few years of joy?  of freedom?  why, after everything they’ve been through, did they continue to punish this amazing man, who was nothing but heroic and selfless for the world until the end?  i just don’t understand.
----
on a more positive side, my sammy.  he finally got a long and happy life.  albeit without dean but, he still had the chance to enjoy his freedom, and get the apple pie life he always dreamed of.  
and dean, oh my dean.  his ending?  i am angry about how it came about, but a heaven filled with the people he loves?  thank you for that.  thank you for bobby being there to greet him, for being at harvelle’s and kicking back.  thank you.
----
sorry to tell you, but i’m back to anger.  
misha. goddamn. collins. 
this man has done so much good for this show, for its fans, and for honestly the world in general.  he came on as as two second plot episode character that they planned to throw away after they used him to connect a couple dots, and his performance was so incredible, they ended up having to throw all their plans away and readjusting.  
he made this show good again, he gave it some life.  i would watch the show so intensely, hoping to see his face when episodes would air.  just his sheer presence in an episode made it more enjoyable.
how did he do that?
what do they give him for his service?  
- a death with almost no reaction from the other characters on the show
- a two second mention in the finale without any appearance
- his final words on the show being a prank call from fucking lucifer a long time hated character (and actor) on the show
- and the showrunners using his pull with the fans to trick us into watching an ending where he was nowhere in sight.
you might be saying, wait.  what do you mean by that last bullet.  well my little cherry blossom, let me explain.  
the writers and showrunners KNOW that we love misha and castiel.  they know it.  as i mentioned before, it was our love of the two of them that kept him on the show in the first place.  they know that his presence is what kept the show afloat.
so, they decided to use that to their advantage.  they became super mysterious and shifty about his whereabouts during the filming of the finale.  why?  why would they do that unless they were worried that we would lose interest and find somewhere else to be when the finale aired because our favorite part of the show was gone?  
they toyed with us just to ensure that we would maintain the ratings on their last hurrah.  and you know what?  that really feels like an enormous slap to the face.  
because guess what?  i would have fucking watched anyway.  would i have been upset and a little hurt that cas wasn’t in it?  absolutely, for all the reasons i described.  but i wouldn’t have been holding my breath in hopes of seeing him the entire time, and then have my heart ripped out of my chest like that in disappointment.  
i would have been able to appreciate the ending for what it was, and accept it wasn’t going to be exactly what i wanted ahead of time.  i wouldn’t be so angry now.  
and i resent them for making me feel that way.  this show did so much for me and is so much of the reason why i’m still here today, and they ruined it for me.  i am so angry that they took something so precious to me, and crushed it, just to get those extra bucks in from keeping the ratings in a good spot.  fuck you.  
----
during that whole montage of sam growing old and having a family (which i literally honestly loved, alright?) instead of having dean drive the car, which we’ve seen him do 384729387423 times, we could have seen dean reuniting with his mom, with charlie, fuck WITH CAS, and giving jack a nougie.  things that actually made sense, and made the most of the finite time we had left.  
i didn’t even need a love confession.  even just a hug, or an appearance from cas would have been enough for me.  because i know, romantic love or not (even though we all fucking know it’s romantic but since so many homophobic people watch the show we have to keep it dubious ugh), cas would be a part of dean’s heaven because cas is part of dean’s family, which is what gets dean out of bed every morning.  
----
listen, i am happy that the final minutes of the show were just sam and dean, hugging, and loving each other.  after all, that’s what started it all, right?  i’m just saying, they screwed us, the characters, and the legacy of the show for what seems to be no apparent reason.  it was just laziness, homophobia, or something else that doesn’t make any sense to me.  
what was the point of the deancas relationship arc for there to be no resolution?  what was the point of brining eileen into sam’s life for them not to be together?  
i truly, just don’t understand.  i don’t.
they really could have made this something amazing, and jaw dropping, but they chose not to.  and i will never forgive them.
----
all that being said though, thank you supernatural.  thank you for making me who i am today.  thank you for making me laugh, cry, and survive so long.  there are memories, people, and messages that you sent to me that will stay with me forever, and that i will never forget.  
to the actors, i hope you know, that any anger you might see from me, or from most of us (don’t want to speak for everyone), are at the writers, not you.  i see all of your hard work and your devotion.  you are everything that makes this show great.  you are what made this show.  thank you for everything.  
and to jensen specifically, i am truly sorry.  i really thought you were being an ass and that you didn’t like the ending bc of stupid reasons, but it turns out you were right.  i’m sorry they didn’t listen to you, and i’m sorry that i doubted you.  you’ve done nothing but love this character and give it your all, and you and misha really got shot in the foot.
your hard work did not go unnoticed.  
thank you for listening if you did. 
i love you all and it has truly been a pleasure.
i’m gonna tag a few people under the bar in case they’re curious about my thoughts. i might not really talk to a lot of you but i really respect your opinions and like you guys.  so yeah (:
tag list @prayedtoyou @destiel-is-canon-i-guess @starrynightdeancas @green-eyes-and-classic-rock @thetiredstuff
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tae-cup · 4 years
Text
.hamartia. ‘Part 1,
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f) x Taehyung (?)
Genre: Mafia!Au, Fluff, Angst (Mostly angst oopsies) I DO NOT CONDONE BEHAVIOR DISPLAYED IN THIS, PLEASE IT’S FICTION AND DON’T DO STUPID THINGS THANK YOU
Plot: Y/N is a skilled, well, torturer, though you don’t like to call yourself that; it makes what you do too real. When mafia boss Yoongi wants information or wants a hostage to suffer, you step in. However, one fateful day you are thrown Taehyung, another person who does your line of work. You need answers, he is determined not to give them to you. That’s when you try...a different approach, and Yoongi is not pleased.
Rating: TV-MA
WARNINGS: YO IF YOU’RE NOT COOL WITH SUBTLE BI AGENDAS THEN I’M SORRY THIS IS NOT THE PLACE FOR YOU, Blood, torture, mafia things (ya know?), drugs alcohol, sadistic tendencies, a fundamentally flawed main character (I’m sorry i’m just writing myself pretty much), assault, harassment, stalking (not bad), romance (somehow), Maybe stockholm syndrome???
Word Count: 2.2k words
A/N: I feel like...Like I understand Yoongi and Taehyung. I understand them better than the other members because I relate to them. I just hope I portray them well enough. 
Other: 
Masterlist 
Prologue | Part 1 | Next | 
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Hamartia
~ The word hamartia refers to a flaw or mistake that leads to a fictional character's downfall. Classical tragedies revolve around the main character's hamartia, the tragic flaw that sets a series of disastrous events in motion. Achilles' heel was his hamartia – his fatal flaw.
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Soft lips meet yours in the dead of night. The kind yet dominant kiss stirred you from your sleep. The room was silent except the sound of the sheets moving as you readjusted. Your eyes fluttered open to be met with dark brown eyes peering into yours. Moonlight filtered through the curtained window. Yoongi’s pale hand reached out, breaking the kiss. He had rough hands that gently caressed your cheek. Then his fingers worked their way through your hair. A smile, kept only for you, flickered across his face. 
“I love you.” He whispered. You sleepily smiled back, reaching out a hand yourself. 
“I love you too, yoongi.” Your light breath grazing his face. He stared intently at you. “You won’t leave me, right?” Your voice was small.
“Of course not, why would I?” His words rocketed around your head. You could think of a million reasons why. 
“Well, for one, the work I do isn’t pretty-”
“Me too, no worries-” He started, cutting you off, but, in return, you cut him off again. You continued the last sentence. 
“-And I’m a cold monster, you know? I don’t have mercy and some days I wonder if I have a heart. I’m fucked up inside, Yoongi.” You poured your heart out, but you couldn’t cry. You had already accepted this part of yourself. You understood if he wanted to leave; you weren’t the same person he fell in love with. 
“You will never be a monster to me.” He stated simply, but his words felt like a a warm embrace. You wrapped your arms around his thin middle, tugging him closer; of course he obliged. 
“I’ve met so many people,” You breathed into his neck. “and none of them were quite like you.” You let out a little laugh. “Is it selfish to want you all to myself? To never want to see you in another’s embrace? To want to hold you forever?” You continued letting out your affirmations, your longing. 
“No. Because if that’s selfish, then I must be too.” His words fluttered across your neck. 
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You opened your eyes, a breath caught in your chest. Why did you have this memory now? Was it a memory at all, or just a dream? It had felt so real. You could still feel his warm breath on your neck, the tingling in your hands as you held him. Now the bed lay empty. The dream left a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. It made you feel sick. Sick with longing for someone to hold you, of course you fucked that up already. Usually it was nightmares that had you rocketing awake, inconsolable and shaking, at 4 A.M. This time, it had been a lovely dream with a sense of foreboding. It had you awaken at 6 A.M. 
Shit. You were late. You didn’t want your captive audience thinking that you weren’t coming today. No, you wanted their days to feel endless. When Yoongi loved you-past tense- you had even been kind to some of them in return for cooperation. Then you became a ruthless monster after... 
You frowned, thinking of that last night. The shouting that could be heard around the mansion, the pain. You ran your fingers through your hair, unable to focus. That dream really had you frazzled now. Why, after so many months, had this happened? 
There was a knock at the door. You suspected it to be the maid, though she had instructions to bring you a to-go box and leave it at the door in the mornings. You liked to start the festivities early. However, the knocking continued. You slipped on black jeans, a black shirt, and black leather jacket. Black hid blood well. You then grabbed your gloves and put them into your pocket. With the knocking going non-stop you shouted, “Oi! I’m coming jesus fucking-” 
You swung the door open only to be met with the amused smirk of Jimin. 
“Oh, you.” You mocked annoyance. 
“You didn’t arrive as early as usual, but I supposed you wanted your beauty sleep.” He teased. 
“Come on! Is getting five hours of sleep really ‘beauty sleep’.” You rolled your eyes. Though, you had to admit that usually it was four or even three hours of sleep. You usually couldn’t rest, the faces of those you’d...taken care of, haunting you at night. Sometimes, when you were getting in bed, you would feel like someone was watching you. Sometimes you’d see their faces in the mirror behind you, bloodied and angry. They haunted you everywhere you went, but now...now there was no one to calm you. Yoongi used to hold you until they went away. Now, you just stared right back at them, further imprinting them into your eyes. Now, you didn’t sleep. 
“The special guest is waiting for you. I woke him up.” Jimin eyed your outfit. All black was slick and put together. All black meant blood. Lots of blood. 
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Jimin liked to wake up his guests with a simple punch or in some case, a cold bucket of water was good. He never really enjoyed his job, he was forced into it. Unlike you, he resisted it as much as possible. It was a situation where you couldn’t figure out who was weaker. The one who gave in to the job, or the one who wouldn’t even do the job. 
You stepped into the room, Jimin at close step behind you. Taehyung was soaked. His teeth chattered and he stared at you with dark eyes. You dragged a metal chair over, letting it screech an awful noise on the cement. You placed it in front of him and straddled the back. Your hands rested on the back of the chair, letting him see how well you took care of them. The news would have you think that your hands were dirty, and they were, but not physically. You had clean hands, pristine. Your nails were well taken care of, each a perfect shape. 
“Mr. Kim.” You drawled his last name as if it were disgusting. “Tell me about yourself.” A small smile made its way onto your lips. If Taehyung wasn’t tied to a chair and drenched in cold water right now, he would have taken it as something inviting and warm. The affect of your voice was soothing and warm, allowing a sense of comfort he indulged in without your knowledge. You had always had that voice, you didn’t try to change it. It helped get answers. You thought back a moment. Yoongi had wanted you to get any information out of him, but you had questions of your own and this freedom was unknown to you. 
The dark haired male glanced to the side, trying to quell his teeth chattering. It wasn’t fair. He was supposed to be scared of you, and that he was, but he was also intrigued. You could look so innocent if you wanted to, but he knew, just like him, that there was something dark. You see, Taehyung held a similar job to you in his rival gang. He wasn’t going to tell you that, though. If he did, you would probably be able to use his own torture methods against him. His ideology was “If it gave him pain, it must pain others.”. Being new to the business, of course he still flinched when handing out punishments. He knew that once he let you inside his head, you weren’t going to come out, and it would be a slippery slope to not let too many things be given away. 
“Not talking?” Your voice brought him out of his head. He watched you slowly pull on those leather gloves. The other male in the room just stood to the side and tried not to look at him. “Jimin.” You called to the man in the corner, not even looking at him. “Please hand me the lighter.” 
You didn’t need to look at your assistant’s face to know he had a horrified expression. 
“A-Already?” He hesitated, slowly picking up the lighter. 
“Well, I know his name, perhaps some more motivation will have our guest open up more.” You locked eyes with the man in front of you. “Don’t be scared, we’re just having a conversation, you and I. We’re just getting to know each other. Think of us as friends now.” You lied through your teeth. 
A low growl emitted from his throat. “Now why would I tell you anything?” His voice was deep and menacing. 
“Because, we’re friends.” You patted his knee with a sadistic smile gracing your face. You were handed the lighter by Jimin who had finally gotten the courage up to deliver the terrifying yet simple weapon. You haphazardly flicked the flame open and closed as you twirled it around. It was a trick you’d learned from Yoongi. 
“We are not friends.” He let his eyes pierce into yours. You patted his shoulder. 
“Intimidation gets you nowhere here, darling.” You flicked open the lighter and held it dangerously near his skin, letting him feel the flame. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t even flinch. It was as if he had done this a million times before. You righted yourself, now looking intriguingly at the man. “What kind of work do you do for your gang?” 
He hesitated, that half a second pause while he searched for a good answer. The one that immediately told you he was lying. Nevertheless, you pretended to buy his answer that he “was a low level drug supplier”. 
“What kind of drugs?” 
“Coke, mary jane, zannys.” He said nonchalantly. 
“Hm.” At least you had gotten him talking. Otherwise, this would have been very painful. You stood, deciding that was enough. He wasn’t giving you truthful answers and you didn’t want to waste your time on him any longer today. You walked over to the light switch and turned it off, setting your alarm for five hours. Jimin followed in step with you as you left the room. 
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“I really think he won’t budge. We should try another tactic.” Jimin said, seeming genuinely concerned. 
“Tell me, Jimin, are you saying this out of genuine hope we can get more information, or to give our precious guest a break?” You asked, not even bothering to look up from your phone. 
“Well...”
“We go over this every time. My method works. Talking is a toy next to mental suffering and physical pain.” 
“But, it just doesn’t seem like we’ll get anywhere. I know people like him. He won’t budge, you just have to trust me.” Jimin pleaded. 
“Why are you so concerned?” You narrowed your eyes. Your head finally turned to look at him, tilting in a perplexed look. 
“I just, I think if I were him-”
“Do you want to be?” You snapped. Jimin fell silent, eyes opening wide. You were friends, yes, but you still held authority over him. You ran a hand down your face, seemingly exasperated. “I’ll think about it, Jiminie.” You said, hoping the nickname would erase his newfound fear. You had the bad habit of pushing people away, of scaring them to the point of running. That’s what happened with Yoongi after all. 
Jimin looked away, an apathetic expression on his face. “Of course.” He said, no emotion crossing his voice. 
“Right...” You felt like a monster. Just as Yoongi said months ago. “I...I need to check on some things.” 
As you hurried away, you mentally beat yourself up. Dammnit, Y/N, this is why you don’t let people close to you. They can hurt you. You and Jimin had been friends, right? Did you just fuck it up, just like everything else, by threatening him? He had just been trying to help. 
You opened the door to your bedroom and raced in, slamming the door shut. You fell against the wall, not sure if you felt sad, hurt, angry, or...nothing at all. There was a sinking pit in your stomach. You looked up, seeing your first victim. They all haunted you, but she did the most. She was so pretty...so kind. And then she met you. And you had a job to do. You believed that day, the one where you shot her point blank while her family watched, was the day your humanity died. That day, something came unhinged. Now you just sat helplessly. Her ghost should be angry. Instead you felt the hallucination stroking your hair. You knew no one was there. You knew you were slowly going insane. Isn’t that what makes everything better? Acknowledging the insanity, you sobbed. 
“I’m sorry.” You croaked to her. She just nodded her head. You didn’t want to sleep. You didn’t want to do anything. So instead, you stared ahead at the dark walls of your room. Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe marking Taehyung up would do nothing. Besides, you had to admit he was...beautiful. Even you weren’t so soulless as to mark that. An idea slunk into your mind like a leak during a rainy day. You could ignore it, but you knew it would cause issues later. 
Could it work? Would it work? There was only one way to find out...
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Please please let me know if you want more the series!! I’m just hoping to get the ball rolling here! - love, Marria (That’s me!)
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gothic-safari-clown · 4 years
Text
The Mind’s Power Over the Body
PART SEVEN: CONFESSION
Story Summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they’re reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they’ve both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan’s side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six
Words count: 3235
Elianna, generally speaking, was extremely stubborn by nature. As such, the more people told her that she couldn’t do something, the more she resolved to do it. She had been like that for her entire life, and very rarely was she convinced to concede.
However, she no longer had any qualms about passing off the Zsasz case. The day before, she had been pretty insistent upon keeping Victor as a patient, but that had been before he had not only escaped what was supposed to be a very secure institution for the fourth time, but had also found out where she lived. Unless he had somehow already found out from whoever must have helped him after their first session. God, had he been planning that from the beginning? El thought back to what he had said when he had passed her and Jonathan in Arkham as he was being escorted back to his cell.
“Leave your door unlocked for me.”
She shivered at the memory. In hindsight, she couldn’t believe how stupid she had been to have still gone to her apartment after that. While she wasn’t unintelligent, it was true Jonathan had always been the smarter one. But, Jesus, that was the worst thing for her to have done in that situation. I guess I’ll blame that on being stubborn too.
She pondered all of this, still in bed next to a restfully sleeping Jonathan, hours before she even needed to be awake. After sleeping for only a few an hour or two herself, she had woken herself out of a nightmare and had been unable to fall back asleep despite how tired she felt. It seemed that all of her sleep lately had been cursed by restlessness.
Suddenly, she was struck by the memory of the strange, shadowy figure that had saved her life in the parking lot. What was that thing? It had been man-sized and shaped, but she clearly saw pointed ears on top of the head in her memory. Even after being in Gotham for such a short period of time, El was acutely aware of the masked criminals that ran the streets. Still, in her tired haze and confusion surrounding the whole situation, she couldn’t recall having heard of a man dressed as a…a dog? Some kind of bat, maybe? Either way, it seemed a very poorly made costume.
The fact that whoever it was had attacked Zsasz was somewhat comforting, she supposed. But the question remained, was this person malevolent and just happened to have a personal vendetta against Zsasz, or was he some sort of vigilante that no one had heard of yet? Assuming this is a new development, I imagine we’ll find out over the coming months.
In the meantime, El was plagued by the feeling that she was being watched, despite being several stories high in a relatively safe part of the city, not that anywhere in Gotham could truly be considered safe.
Despite the knowledge that nobody could be watching, she shifted closer to Jonathan and cast a wary look around the room to identify the source of her discomfort, finally deciding that there was something about the window that made her uneasy. It seemed too dark outside, given that they were in a large city, but she knew better than to get up to close the curtains. She had seen enough horror movies to know that when she did, there would be a face pressed against the glass, watching her sleeplessness.
The image in her head of a person waiting on the ledge outside, waiting for her to fall back asleep scared her, even though she knew it was impossible. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself not to think about it. It’s amazing the things almost being murdered will do to your brain.
Jonathan shifted in his sleep suddenly, effectively taking her mind off things for a few seconds. She could tell that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the previous few nights (she blamed Scarecrow) and made an effort hold still, hoping that she hadn’t woken him up. After a few seconds, he settled back into his pillow. She sighed and allowed herself to relax as well. I should try to get back to sleep before work. She would be damned if she had to stay home, even after everything that had happened. She needed the people she worked with to take her seriously. Going about a normal routine after almost dying twice seemed a good way to establish rank. Maybe stubborn and stupid, but what was the worst that could happen at that point?
All things considered, she felt surprisingly stable for someone who had had three near-death experiences in the past few years. Maybe there was something wrong with her that just hadn’t manifested yet? Thinking about that possibility, she wouldn’t be surprised. It might explain how she was finally on the verge of falling back asleep.
Eventually, her exhaustion got the better of her. Jonathan’s building had much better security than hers; surely, she would be fine to sleep those last few hours away…
.xXx.
Four hours later, El’s phone alarm sounded, blaringly loud in the previously silent room, and she scrambled to turn it off while Jonathan rolled onto his stomach and groaned into his pillow.
“Why do you wake up so early?” His voice was muffled.
“It takes longer for me to get ready than you. It’s nothing new. Go back to sleep.” El yawned and patted the back of his head before standing up, stretching and cracking her back.
He seemed to take her advice, and his breathing evened out again as she retrieved her duffle bag from the living room and headed to the bathroom to get ready for work. She had just finished washing her face and brushing her teeth and was starting in on her makeup when Jonathan walked in, looking tired.
“I’m awake now.” He yawned as he leaned back against the counter next to her and rubbed his hand down his face.
“I can see that. I’m sorry,” El replied genuinely—if a bit distracted by her foundation.
“It’s fine; I was starting to dream about Granny again,” he dismissed; El nodded and continued her routine as he watched.
“Can I help you?” She asked, slightly perturbed by the attention. He shrugged.
“There’s nothing better to do at the moment. Besides, I want to find out how it’s possible that you actually use all those brushes every day. It seems like overkill.”
“They’re all good for different things, now hush,” El mumbled in response, trying not to let him distract her from her eyeliner. “You know, if you talked to more women, you might be able to see them put on their makeup, and maybe even naked sometimes.” Now she was actively trying to get him to leave her alone; it was far too early not to be annoying about it, though. Sometimes she just couldn’t resist embarrassing him.
“Don’t give Scarecrow any ideas this early in the morning, or he’s going to think about you like that all day, and I have to hear it,” Jonathan said in mild disgust and shut his eyes in exasperation.
“Ooh, gross. Really?”
“Yeah. Breakfast?”
“No, thanks, love.”
“You should eat.”
“I should, but I’m not hungry, and you’re distracting me. Thank you, though,” she replied more forcefully. He shrugged again and meandered toward the kitchen. “Tell him to behave!” She called after him.
No longer distracted, El finished up and picked an outfit for the day, getting dressed quickly and walked out to the kitchen where Jonathan had already dressed and was making his way through a bagel while glancing over the newspaper. “They didn’t know your name. Would you mind if I started calling you ‘lucky woman?’”
“Sure! Would you mind if I start 'giving Scarecrow ideas’ every morning?”
“Still not a morning person, I see.”
“Nope.” El stole a quick sip of his coffee before grabbing her purse. “Carpool?”
Jonathan agreed, finished his bagel and coffee, and they walked to his car. In a few minutes were on the road sharing comfortable silence. El found herself reminded once again of the stranger that had saved her the night before. She decided to ask Jonathan about it; maybe he’ll know more than I do.
Then again, what if he thought she was crazy? A man dressed up like…oh, who could tell? What if it had been an adrenaline-fuelled hallucination? Jonathan wouldn’t turn her in, would he?
Of course not. The personality with whom he shared a mind was violent and murderous and had convinced him to kill his great grandmother—although, the old crone had it coming. Where the hell did that thought come from? That’s a horrible thing to think.
Either way, compared to that, seeing a man dressed as a…as something while fighting crime seemed perfectly sane, especially in Gotham. Not to mention the fact that whoever it was had definitely tackled Zsasz. It had to be real, or she wouldn’t be sitting there in the car.
“Jonathan?��
“Mm?” He responded right as they pulled up to Arkham. Damn, she had thought for too long; she didn’t feel comfortable talking about this where other people might hear. Jonathan might not think she was crazy, but someone else might.
“Remind me to talk to you about something later,” she conceded with a sigh and waited for him to park so that she could get out of the car. He caught up to her a second later.
“Why not now?”
“Because you already know I’m not crazy.” He looked at her pointedly but didn’t say anything for a moment.
“Do I?”
“Oh, shut up,” she smiled and elbowed him gently as they walked inside. Jonathan allowed himself a soft smile.
“I have to stop by my office for a minute, but then I’ll meet back up with you in your office before your first appointment. I have to talk to you about something.” El nodded.
“See you in a few minutes, love.” She walked herself to her office, stupidly worried now that she was alone. She knew that she relatively safe with security everywhere, but even so, she pulled on the door after it closed to ensure that it was locked. Paranoid. Zsasz wasn’t even there. She had seen in Jonathan’s newspaper in the kitchen that Victor was facing trial that day.
Not to mention whatever it was that Jonathan had to talk to her about. Knowing him, El didn’t even want to try to guess what that discussion would be like.
She killed a few minutes organizing paperwork that she had allowed to pile up, realizing that she would need to stay late to file that night and reviewing her schedule. Her first session wasn’t for a few hours yet, which gave her time to stave off the fear that another of her patients would attack her. I just got off to a bad start. A really, really, really, really bad start.
A knock on the door made her jump and then roll her eyes at herself. “Who is it?” Seriously? Nobody that would knock wants to kill you, El.
“Three guesses who.” Came Jonathan’s response, and she pressed the button to open the door for him. “I’m gonna have to stay a bit late tonight.” He informed her as he walked in.
“That’s alright, me too.”
“Well, that works out.” He sighed, pausing in the middle of the room for a moment. “I also need to leave for a while right now, but first, there’s a lot that I need to explain to you, and it can’t wait, so I need you to listen.” What?
“O-okay.” She nodded slowly. “What’s up?” She leaned back in her seat as Jonathan came around and leaned back against the desk in front of her, setting his briefcase next to him.
“Alright, there really isn’t a good way to ease you into this given the time crunch, so I’m just going to tell you all at once, okay?” Still confused, El nodded again. “First of all, I’ve been conducting experiments on patients here, research not sanctioned by the asylum.” He paused for a beat, giving her a chance to think about the confession. “A while ago, I perfected a recipe for what I call a 'fear toxin.’ In short, it causes the subject to hallucinate whatever they fear most, which allows me to study the effect of fear on the human mind.”
“What the fuck?” The question escaped El quietly as she closed her eyes in an attempt to help herself process the information that her friend was offering up out of the blue.
“I know, but I’m not finished yet, okay? Stay with me.” El found herself nodding on reflex. “The key ingredient that I need for each version comes in from overseas, it’s shipped here, and I’ve been working with Carmine Falcone, the mob boss, to bring it in.”
“Wh-what does this have to do with me? Why are you telling me this?” El asked in a panic, shaking her head, her eyes still shut. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing or how easily Jonathan said it. He was lucky that the security system was video only, no audio. Or maybe she was unlucky; it all depended on what his motivations were for sharing this information.
“Because Zsasz used to work for Falcone, but Falcone won’t risk Zsasz going to prison and leaking the secrets of the organization; as long as he’s here, regulations dictate that he has to be kept relatively comfortable and isolated, so he has no reason to leak information. I’m going right now to testify on his mental state so that he gets admitted back here.”
“Stop-stop talking for a second, hold on.” Elianna lifted a hand and tried her best to control her breathing. Jonathan did as she asked and waited while she began to gather her thoughts. “Just please, please tell me that you aren’t the one who’s been helping him escape.” She demanded quietly, finally opening her eyes but staring at the carpet. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him until she knew that he wasn’t the one to put her life in danger. She had never before felt unsafe around Jonathan. Scarecrow, yes, but never Jonathan, but this sudden dump of information had her suddenly questioning everything that she knew.
She should never have come back to the east coast. She should have stayed bored in California and just contented herself with their long-distance friendship.
Jonathan lifted off the desk and crouched down in front of her, making her look at him, however reluctantly. “Listen to me, El; I know that I’ve done a lot of horrible things, okay? I can admit that. But one thing that I could never do is put you in danger on purpose.” In a calm voice, he spoke slowly, and against her better judgment, Elianna found herself believing him. She nodded.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Alright, I trust you, but I still don’t understand why you’re telling me any of this.” Her mind was still racing to make sense of anything that he had said in the last few minutes, although she began to realize that she shouldn’t really have been surprised. From the second that she had found out about Scarecrow, El had known that there was something—someone inside him that was more than capable of horrific things.
She found herself wondering, not for the first time, how Jonathan would have ended up if Scarecrow had never come along. Granny Keeny should have been the only warning that she needed to stay away from Jonathan, starting years ago.
Then again, if she had managed to look past and even help him cover-up the “accident,” the strange circumstances of the old woman’s death (or so they had passed it off), then she could find a way to look past this. There had to have been a reason he was telling her any of this, besides making her an accomplice. There needed to be.
“Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Tell me.”
“If I’m going to get Zsasz back here anyway, then I can get him transferred to my caseload, which puts us in the perfect position to make him regret coming after you.”
“Whoa, hold on,” El lifted her hand again to interrupt him. She almost felt bad for interjecting so often, each time having to remind herself that she wasn’t in the wrong this time. “I’m assuming that you mean you would use this 'fear toxin’ on him? In which case, he could have a full metal break, and then they would have to investigate you, so won’t they be able to trace it back to us?” Jonathan shook his head.
“They won’t find anything. I already have it all figured out. It’s an original formula, if they examine him, they may find severely elevated stress levels, but unfortunately, that kind of break happens to people all the time in here; as long as he’s alive, anyone looking into Zsasz won’t bother to test for any externally administered chemicals.”
“I-” El found herself at a loss for words by how quickly Jonathan had worked this out. “F-fine, just…give me another minute.” She stood from her office chair and began to pace, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, trapped in by the sudden wave of disturbing new information.
She couldn’t deny that the thought of mercilessly dealing revenge upon the man who thought that he could get away with killing her sounded incredibly satisfying. It was a natural desire to exact one’s pound of flesh, and even before her involvement Victor Zsasz was a murderer. A deranged serial killer that had killed how many women before she had even thought of moving to Gotham?
Elianna began to realize that she could remain in denial about what had happened to her for as long as she wanted, but she would never feel truly safe again until something was done about him.
She knew it was technically wrong, but she wanted Victor Zsasz to feel the terror that she did when she pictured his face—Lovecraftian, skeletal, bathed in yellow light—and if Jonathan’s toxin could do the job, then she wanted to do it.
Before her logical mind had time to talk her out of her resolve, she stopped pacing and looked at Jonathan. He looked back expectantly, sitting on the edge of her desk again. With an air of finality, she nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Good.” He checked his watch and stood, taking his briefcase. “I need to leave now, but I’ll be back in a few hours. Just go about your day like normal, and we can talk semantics tonight.” El nodded in response in a stupor over everything that had happened in only two short days. She wasn’t even aware enough to be surprised when Jonathan kissed her head as he left her office, instead returning trance-like to her seat and wondering just the wrong side of too late, did I make the right decision?
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justauthoring · 5 years
Text
At Times [S.U.]
Request: Can you do either a Stan or bill 2019 imagine where the reader comes back and they used to be each other’s childhood crushes and it’s just cute and angst?
A/N: So, for the sake of canon plot, this is adult Stan (my boi Andy Bean) but a few years before the whole ‘it’s back’ stuff. I dunno, I just want to write a adult Stan fic, but like not derive from the actual plot too much and not have it all about his death.
Please don’t plagiarize my work! Word Count: 1,152
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Life can be strange at times. Even crazy.
During your twenty-eight years of life, you’ve come to learn this. Faint memories of a clown remind you of this. It’s something you’ve known since you were young, and when you pinned it down to an exact; the age thirteen seemed pretty much when.
Life was strange. Things don’t go the way you plan, not always. More often then not, life spirals out of control. You can try to take it one step at a time, making certain decisions that will lead you to a certain future, but at the end of the day, you just don’t have any control. Life is out of your hands. You didn’t plan to be twenty-eight single. When you were little and you dreamed of your fairy tale future, you envisioned meeting someone by the age twenty-five, marrying them at twenty-eight and having kids by the age thirty.
Clearly, you were wrong.
You also envisioned your job being much different then it is now. You woke up at six-thirty every morning, left the house by seven-forty-five, and was at work at eight where you spent your day in a office, where you helped organizations to finance their operations, abide by government regulations, save money, and maximize their profits. Among other things.
You were what a lot of people would call successful. You made a decent wage (more than decent even), you lived a comfortable home and you kept yourself busy.
But you have memories of your younger self going on and on about how you’d be something crazy like a stunts-person, an actress even. You once mentioned becoming a comedian, just because you always liked to joke around, but for some reason, that didn’t really seem to fit you (it, instead, suited another person; someone you can and can’t remember). Whatever you use to go on and on about as a young girl, an accountant certainly wasn’t it.
Life was just strange. And you had no control over it.
Just like you had no control over today. It had started like any other day; you woke up at six-thirty, arrived at work at eight and went on with your day. You took your lunch at mid-day and headed home at four-thirty. You took the train home, then a bus. It wasn’t until you stepped onto the bus, greeting the driver with a bright and polite smile, did things change.
The bus was busy, as it usually was, but you managed to find a free seat. Holding your purse close to yourself, you reach the seat just as the bus starts moving, therefore causing you to lose balance. You fall into the seat, and practically the person sitting next to you, unceremoniously, a yelp of surprise leaving your lips as you do so. The second you manage to catch yourself, you feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment, quickly sitting up.
“I’m so sorry--”
However, your words die on the tip of your tongue when you meet the man’s eyes. His very, very blue eyes that cause everything to just stop, freeze, because you know you’ve seen those eyes before. You just have.
“It’s all right,” the man says simply, flashing you with a small smile before shuffling slightly to give you more room. He doesn’t seem to really take notice your shock, and instead, moves to turn back towards the window. 
You stop him, however, before he can. “Sorry to be a bother,” you call out, causing him to blink back over at you. “But have we met before?”
The man’s brows furrow and he frowns; “no, I don’t think--” And then he pauses, lips left parted, and this expression washes over him. You’re sure it’s the same expression you’d held moments ago, and his eyes stay straight on your own, never wavering, as his brows furrow even further and his frown deepens and a million things seem to be passing through his mind at once and none of it makes sense.
You know this, because it’s happening to you.
“This is Y/N. She’s new here.”
“Sorry to be a bother, but can I sit here?”
“You might not want to hang out with us. We’re kind of losers.”
“I think it’s cute how invested you are. Not many people take such care for things.”
“I... I like you, Y/N. A lot. And I don’t know if you feel the same, but i’m really hoping you do.”
“No matter what, i’ll protect you, okay?”
“I was scared... I-I thought... Jesus, never do that to me again.”
“I’m going to kiss you, okay? Because I can’t wait another second.”
“This is what I want. I’m sure of it.”
“You’ll call everyday, right? And we’ll meet up in the summer.”
“I miss you.”
“I’m Stan. Nice to meet you.”
“Stan...”
The man, Stan, blinks, as if stunned you know his name and then, his eyes light up with realization. “Y/N,” he whispers out, similar to you, his shoulder slumping with disbelief.
“What are the odds,” you comment lightly, glancing at the front of the bus briefly before turning back to Stan.
Stan; the boy you knew when you were younger, your friend, the first boy you ever had a crush on, your first boyfriend, the boy, despite forgetting him, you’ve solely loved. 
“It’s been so long,” Stan murmurs, “I haven’t seen you since--”
“I moved.” You nod, the memory fading in. “Moved from Derry, yeah.”
Stan pauses a moment, swallowing thickly. Even if neither of you say anything, it’s clear you both remember the same thing; are thinking the same thing. Thinking about how you’d felt for each other when you were younger, and how, even after years, those feelings never faded.
“How... How have you been?”
“I’m good,” you smile, cheeks warming faintly. “How have you been?”
“Good,” he nods, and there’s this thickness of awkwardness. Neither of you are sure how to react to one another. “I actually just got promoted at my job.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
“I’m an accountant.”
At that, you pause. “Really?” Stan nods, slightly confused by your disbelief. Then, you chuckle, “so am I.”
Stan’s brows quirk; “what are the odds.”
You nod and then a silence falls over the two of you. There’s a few moments where neither of you say anything, and then, suddenly and without any real warning, Stan interrupts the silence by commenting; “I see you’re not married.”
And for a moment, you’re startled. That is quite an odd comment to make to someone you’ve just reunited with. But then, again, is it really that odd given that it’s you two?
“Yeah, no,” you mumble, meeting his eyes. “Just never met the right person. You?”
“Me neither.”
The two of you stare at one another, never taking your eyes off of each other, and you seem to both understand.
Neither of you have met the right person, until now.
-
Let me know what you thought?
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