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messenger-of-babel · 2 months ago

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Reborn

Summary: Jason did what he swore he'd never curse upon anyone. It just so happened to be you he cursed in the process.

Word Count: 2.3K

Notes: Character death, greivous injury, language. I was actually so happy writing this one, I was thinking I was going to struggle with the prompt but it actually came to me with a lot less struggle than I was expecting. I'm a big Jason girlie so maybe this had a trace of self indulgence in there.

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"Hurry the fuck up!" Jason yells at Tim, hands pressed on the centre of your chest, blood trickling through his fingers. He hates the way the warm liquid seeps into the fabric of his gloves, sticky and wet.

"I'm trying the best I can," Tim grits back out, relaying something through their coms line while he runs to your side, dropping to his knees beside your body in the car wreckage. "Holy…" he breathes out, eyes flicking over your form in concern. Your eyes are hazy and your face is ashy, paling from the blood loss.

"Jason, I don't think we-" he says, picking up one of your limp hands in his own, looking to his adoptive brother with pity.

"Shut up and do it." Jason grits back.

He wasn't going to lose you. Not like this. Not before him, not because of him.

Drop you to work, that's all he was going to do. That's all he was going to do. It was late at night, and he had patrol anyways. You were going in for a trial shift that night at the security company, something that could land you an executive manager role and get you out of that shitty job waiting tables. Something that could get both of you into a better apartment, more independent, the start of your life together. When you first started dating he was more than happy to throw Bruce's money around, the billionaire had more than he needed anyways, he wasn't going to miss it. Yet you had begun refusing after the first month, saying you wanted to be independent, and he fell in love right there.

And is this where it got you?

No. That was still all him. He had picked you up in a simple car since he was staking out some gang causing issues around West End and needed to go on stakeout. No reinforced glass, no secret bat gadget hidden in the glove compartment, just some tinted windows. So, who even saw you getting into his car? Well, what was supposed to be just dropping you at work turned into a car chase while you held onto anything you could, screaming in terror. It wasn't often that Jason would be the one getting chased, and under any other circumstances he would have thrown the car into gear and flipped the tables on them.

But you were in the car.

So, he threw it into reverse and ran as fast as he could. It had all been for vain, a burst tire and shattered windshield sent the car spinning out to a side street, flipping as it hit the curb. The screech of metal was deafening to his ears, the crunch of glass ringing out around him as the world flipped one… two…three…times.

His lungs burnt as he struggled to escape from the seatbelt, head throbbing from the collision on the dash before he looked over to you. His heart stopped in his chest, unable to even respond to the calls of Red Robin over his com link, who he had contacted the moment a gun had been fired at the two of you. "Sweetheart?" his voice cracked slightly, unable to go louder over the ball of fear in his throat. You didn’t respond as he clambered from his seat, arms coming around your back to support you and drag you from the car. he hated the way the image of you, splayed over the glass covered dash, had burnt into the deepest part of his mind. He had dragged you to the shelter of the car, blood boiling in his veins.

Anyone who had come to follow up was laid across the floor in seconds, Jason standing in front of your body like a guard dog. He blocked as much of your features as he could, taking out each gang member that came to inspect the crash with frightening efficiency. By the time Red Robin had arrived on the scene, Jason was already cradling your body in the shadow of the car, desperately trying to stop the bleeding from the bullet wound in your sternum. The bullet wound that he might as well have put there himself.

This was his fault.

"This isn't your fault, Hood." Tim says, laying his other hand on Jason's shoulder, muscled tensed and ready to snap. "None of us could have predicted-"

"Shut up and help," he hissed, fighting to stop himself from crying behind his mask. He hadn't felt this terrified since he was a kid, back in that warehouse. He was stronger than that now. Strong enough that surely, he could help you.

Jason wasn’t oblivious to the pained and pitiful look cast his way. "Hood, they're already gone." he whispers softly, hands coming down to gently cover his still compressed on your chest. Jason shakes his head. "No." he chokes out. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no."

"Yes." Tim says firmly. "I've…I've got the car. I'll bring it round before the GCPD shows. We can handle this. We can take them back to the cave, clean them up like they deserve-"

"I said No." Jason snaps, blood rushing in his ears. He knew you were gone. He could tell from the way your blood went tacky on your chest, the stream trickling into a standstill. The way your face was devoid of colour, making you look shades lighter than he knew you were. Your hands were limp, head tilted. What was the worst was the way your eyes stared up into him, glassy and fogged, as if cracking open his soul.

Why did you kill me?

Why me?

Why didn't you save me?

He knew you wanted to live, god, he knew you loved life. Loved life with him, and he loved it back in return. If only you had been given the chance he once was. "Bring the car." he chokes out, eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"What are you planning?" Tim asks, hesitant as he sees the way Jason's body is coiled, ready to strike.

"We're going to save them." He says softly, hand squeezing your lax one tightly.

God, he just hoped you weren't going to hate him.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"So, you tracked us down to ask for our services?" Thalia scoffs, circling the two of them. "Didn't think I'd have two birds on our doorstep, didn't your mentor teach you better?" she says disdainfully, eyes raking over Tim and Jason. Jason just holds your body closer, wrapped in a white sheet and cradled in his arms. Tim shifts uncomfortably, making Thalia's eyes gleam when she detects the weakness. "Oh," she purrs, almost delighted, crowding into Tim’s space. "You're off the record."

"This doesn't involve Batman." Jason gruffly says. "This involves me. This is my request."

Thalia's eyes flick back to him, but Jason doesn't flinch. He'd dragged Tim along as an accomplice, going dark on the radar as he returned to the alps, the one place he had sworn to never return to. To do the one thing he had told himself he would never force on anyone.

But he couldn't lose you.

"So, you think you can just show back up and ask to use the pits?" She asks, eyes flicking to your form in his arms. "My, you really are as dumb as you are bold, aren't you?" She hums. Jason remains still, eyes focused on the hooded woman in front of him.

"I'll owe you a favour." he says, without a beat of hesitation.

Red Robin's eyes widen behind him, domino mask unable to hide his surprise. "Hood, are you kidding? you can't just-"

"Shut it." Jason hisses back. "This isn't your decision. This is mine, consequences included."

Tim backs down only slightly. "You know what Batman will say. We can't trust these people; they'll use that favour to burn down Gotham. Think."

Jason tries to, he really does. He tries to see the big picture, but all he can see is fragments of you and your life together that was smashed the second he put you in that passenger seat. "I am." he says softly.

He could walk away now and save Gotham for sure, or he could stay and save his world.

Thalia sidles up to him, lips pulled into a smirk, like a snake rearing its head. "I could do you a deal if that's the case." she says, eyes sparkling like emeralds. "But you have to make good on it. You of all should know how we handle broken promises in the League."

Jason considers it for a second, before steeling himself. There was no other option for him.

"You have a deal."

"I knew bringing you back would be worth it." she smiles, like a cat batting a mouse between its paws. She turns, gesturing for them to follow her with two fingers. "Come." she commands, beginning a clipping pace through the carved stone hideout. Jason follows wordlessly, and Tim soon does a moment after.

"How long have they been dead?" she calls, not even looking back.

"Less than a week." he replies almost immediately. Thalia smiles at that, dark and curious.

"Oh? Snappy, I see. Who exactly is under that blanket to make you run to this corner of the world so quickly?" she grins, stopping at the entrance of a deep set of stairs. She stalks closer, steps echoing and deliberate. With a quick motion she pulls back the sheet from your stiff corpse, eyes raking over your face.

"A lover?" she asks, eyebrows raised at the way Jason holds you closer instinctively.

"None of your business." he replies gruffly, making her roll her eyes.

"We should've taught you how to be subtle." she murmurs, beginning to descend the stairs. He follows into the darkness, shadows beginning to give way to a soft green glow, bouncing off the carved stone walls. Tim takes in the room they step in to at the bottom, a grand, ornate space, yet somehow still appearing crude. Death clings to the atmosphere, cold and uninviting.

"Hood, is this where-" he begins quietly, but Jason cuts him off.

"Yes." he says as he follows Thalia deeper, feet stopping by the edge of the glowing green pool. Panic swirls in his gut, making his senses set themselves on fire. His mind races as he tries to control his own fear, to stop the metallic taste from rising in his throat. Flashes of his own time in the pool pry themselves into the forefront of his memory, making his fists clench in your sheet. He pushes them all down, taking a deep and shaky breath.

This was for you.

"Don't forget, you owe me." Thalia warns, gaze haughty as he kneels by the pool, unwrapping you from your blanket. His heart wrenches seeing your stiff body, eyes still open as if to judge him. When he's untangled the sheet from you, he slowly begins to slip your body into the water, Tim running his hands through his hair in worry behind him.

"Jesus…" Tim breathes, anxiety radiating off him as he watches your body submerge under the green glow of the Lazarus Pit. Jason doesn't move from his kneeling position, Thalia beside him as he scans the water for a sign of life, a sign of movement. A sign of you. After a few tense moments, it happens. A hand breaks through the surface, making Tim jump. Your fingers are clawed in pain, but he chooses to focus on the way your colour returns to the digits. You appear from the pit like you're drowning, eyes rolled into the back of your head as you breach the water. Your mouth is open in a wide gasp, screaming in unmeasurable pain. His heart tears itself in two and his stomach is in knots hearing you make that kind of noise, writhing and clawing at your face.

Thalia watches you scream and double over in the pit, making a mocking pout as madness clouds your eyes. "Aww, how cute. You're just like each other, a match made in hell."

"Shit…" Tim exhales, pacing back and forwards behind him. "Batman isn't going to like this. This isn't right, this isn't right…" he mutters, panic written all over him. Jason drowns both of them out, extending his hand softly towards you, leaning precariously over the waters to gently grip your wrist and guide you his way. He could fix you. he could fix this. He could make it all better.

He guides you until you're in front of him, the familiar burning smell of the Lazarus pit stinging his nose, a smell he struggled to describe yet it haunted him on random nights. His eyes soften under the mask as he sees the panic in your eyes, the shock of coming back paired with the madness fighting to grip your mind. The sound of your cries and screams echoed around the room, a sound so full of pain and fear that he couldn't help but flinch.

He could teach you, the way he was taught. He could help you get your feet back the soft way, a way he wished he could have been offered. He'd do everything in his power to make your second chance as painless as possible. He'd nurse your mind back if that's what it needed, calm the rages late at night if you had them. He'd take you in any form you came to him, growing pains and all. He'd teach you how to live again.

He only hoped that you wouldn't hate him forever for bringing you back.

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vidavalor · 1 year ago

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I absolutely love your take on things, so here goes: I believe that in 2.06 (at 18:07 mins to be exact), when Crowley comes back from heaven with the other angels and enters the shop, I hear a miracle sound being made when Aziraphale pops out from behind the shelf and says ‘You came back!’ Any idea what that could be about?

I also had another question but forgot. Will ask when I remember.

Hi! Thank you. :) Hope you're having a good week so far! I also saw your other ask-- am writing up something for it.

I think it is Saraqael miracling up a ramp. There's also a little concrete grinding sound that goes along with it that sounds like the ramp extending from when the angels arrived a few episodes earlier to investigate the Gabriel miracle. Saraqael doesn't make as large a ramp this time but it's visible behind Crowley as the angels come in. There are some weird things about whatever happened during the night of the ball but I think this bit in particular is just Saraqael wheeling themselves into the bookshop.

One miracle/supernatural sound on the show that I do think is very important is the sound of Gabriel arriving in the sushi restaurant in the first episode and Aziraphale's reaction to it and what those things together say about angels and demons. I'm sure this has come up before. I think it's interesting to think about ahead of S3 though so I'll bring it up again.

We hadn't seen Crowley & Aziraphale together in the modern era by that scene in the series-- just on the wall at Eden, in what appeared at the time to be their first meeting-- so we didn't know yet that Crowley always comes up on Aziraphale's left. So when the sound of an arrival happens, Aziraphale looks to his left, expecting Crowley, with whom the scene implies he was supposed to have dinner and who he knew was running late after a spot of Hell business. When Aziraphale doesn't see Crowley, Gabriel is then there on his right.

So, The Supreme Archangel of Heaven and a demon of Hell make the same sound upon arrival, eh? :)

Also probably worth mentioning that when Aziraphale looks to his left, there's a mirror on the wall, so he winds up seeing Gabriel in the mirror before then turning to look his right to look at him directly. This is great visual storytelling because the mirror then allows Gabriel to be foreshadowed as a mirror of *both* Aziraphale and Crowley, which is something that does happen in S2. The lack of Crowley here is a bit eerie, actually, especially because Aziraphale looking in one direction to where Crowley should be and then looking back at the Supreme Archangel of Heaven is, well... it is now a parallel shot to the last time he and Crowley look at each other in 2.06. This scene now parallels the looking at each other across the street bit as Aziraphale goes into the elevator. Only Crowley is so very present in that scene and Gabriel is the one who is gone, if his position still remaining and represented by the elevator/The Metatron.

Also the pink/red and the black and it's a Japanese restaurant (evocative of Buddhism more than Christianity)-- Aziraphale might as well be eating in Hell by Heaven's measures here lol. Gorgeous color composition in this scene and the way its shot-- so that the brighter color actually causes Gabriel, in grey, to stand out more-- is the stuff film nerds like me swoon over. It's such a good shot that "oh, hey, it's Jon Hamm and oh, he's lookin' extra fine" somehow manages to be your second thought lol.

Anyway, the same chime sound of arrival existing for both Gabriel and Crowley... it's almost as if they're the same type of being, yeah? Almost like, other than the holy water/hellfire thing or the color of feathers, there actually aren't really any major physiological differences between an angel and a demon...

...so, almost like there's no such thing as a "demonic miracle." It's all the same powers. It matters from where you pull power, not what miracles you're doing. It's how Crowley & Aziraphale get away with doing miracles "their kind" is not supposed to do. So long as Crowley pulls power from Hell and Aziraphale pulls power from Heaven, it doesn't matter what miracle they are performing and no one can tell in their head offices. They only notice the drain of power.

This line is actually tongue-in-cheek because they both have known for ages by 1941 that there's no such thing:

After Heaven began to send angels to Hell as demons, they deemed certain types of miracles as evil/demonic and forbade angels from performing them. It's social control more than it is a difference in ability or biology. Think of what's-his-name in Heaven (military character in S1, played by the same guy as Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets whose character name is escaping me and I can't find atm) when Aziraphale gets discorporated up there in S1 who says that Aziraphale can't get back to Earth without a body and Aziraphale proposes possessing someone, which the guy says that angels can't do. "But demons can," says Aziraphale and later proves he can do what demons do by possessing Madame Tracy. He and Crowley and their The Arrangement, which had Aziraphale doing temptations and Crowley doing blessings. Crowley & Aziraphale know that the Heavenly rhetoric is bullshit but it's unclear who else, if anybody, knows.* (Aside from The Metatron & God, whose narration is full of cheeky reference to this idea and to the idea that the angels and demons are not superior to humans.) It's so far been a subtle thing but I'd kind of like it to factor into how things change in the Heaven/Hell system, however that happens.

*Crowley putting his engineer cap on, experimenting around with his ability to do miracles... that demon doing some dedicated science to figure out whether or not he and Aziraphale would kill each other if they had sex is God's favorite chapter in her 6,000,000,000,000 word, never-really-enemies-to-lovers-to-whatever-they're-calling-it, slowest-of-all-possible-burns fic.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands

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turkeyinnovember · 7 months ago

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glitch curt 👍

combining soup's glitch curt with this oneshot ive wanted to write since the multiverse episode but it's pretty short so

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They knew it was bad for him, but they didn’t know how bad it was until Curt started shaking out of nowhere.

“Curt?” Den was the first to notice. A change from his previous relaxed position, he stared with focus less eyes, hands balled into fists and sitting rigid by his side. He met her eye upon her call, but there was mostly panic with a blend of confusion and emptiness in there.

“You good, bro?” Ivan frowned, setting his glass to the side.

“I-” Curt blinked, suddenly jolting up from his seat, “I can’t- I, feel…?”

When Den took a step closer, she was met with wide, frantic eyes that made her nervous too. “What’s wrong?” She quickly backtracked, leaving him with space to avoid crowding him.

He winced again at something before he glitched.

A couple of bewildered glances exchanged told that they all saw the same thing.

Curt was honestly confused more than anything. Putting aside the headache from managing that absolute shit show of a battle they fought, he felt okay. Well, for a bit, at least. And then everything started to hurt. Wounds from being slammed into the ground, scratched by Ao’s claws, and the places that she hurt.

He didn’t actually know what the others saw, unaware of glitches that increased with his hasted breathing.

I need to… what?

Curt reached a hand to clutch his throat, but paused halfway in the air and instead, he just booked it for the bathroom.

Den reacted the fastest, following close after him and kneeling by his side. She winced sympathetically, patting his back soothingly as he trembled over the toilet, knuckles turning pale with the strength he used to grip. Ivan and Kristine tailed the two, asking questions frantically.

Christian trailed further behind, he approached the seemingly innocent plushie and squinted, looking down at her. He held back the urge to punch and instead simply turned it around to face the wall.

Instead of cramming all 5 of them inside of their little bathroom, he decided that the better idea was to get the guy a glass of water for when he’s got whatever was in his system out. As he poured, he let his mind run over and process what had just occurred.

He met the rest of them at the bathroom just in time to witness Curt collapse, thankfully caught by Den before his head could hit the floor. Ivan damn near scampered out of the room while Kristine climbed on top of the sink to clear way, as Den carried Curt out.

Catching Christian’s concerned eyes, Den explained briefly, “He just kept on glitching, there were these cracks that appeared on his skin, and then he passed out without a word.”

“I did see him fall,” Christian nodded, watching as she dropped him on the couch. He picked up Curt’s right arm and examined the thin cracks Den mentioned.

“They look familiar,” He spoke pointedly.

As she made the connection, she glanced back quickly at the plushie. But, before she could answer, Kristine piped in, “They look like that girl’s!”

“Holy shit,” Ivan exclaimed, “You’re right, Kristine!”

“His glitches are actually,” Den added, pausing a second to gather her thoughts, “Similar too.”

“Wait, what does this mean?” Kristine tilted her head.

“Is Curt becoming one with the anime girl?” Ivan suggested.

“Ivan, what?” Christian shook his head at their absurdity. He walked back to the plushie, who had somehow turned herself back around. His hunch was right. That bitch was still alive in here in some shape or form. He bared his teeth slightly in annoyance, making no attempts to hide the hostility in his voice, “You’re one creepy little shit.”

He squatted to be eye-level with the plushie, her fabric eyes showed no signs of intelligence but he still asked, almost rhetorically, “What did you even do to him?”

Christian grinded his back teeth together before he suddenly reached out and threw her to the floor, followed by a heavy stomp on her head.

Fucking bitch, he thought, as he kicked it hard, sending it flying towards the wall.

He stared after the blue figure as it collided with the wall and dropped to the floor, bouncing a bit almost as if it was truly a normal plushie. He didn’t put much intention into hitting this plush form of the god, really, only wishing that even in this soft, lifeless form she could still experience pain.

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#recreyo #recreyo au #frugal aesthetic #ivan animated #curt richy #recreyo chan #kfel #cypherden #glitch curt #ao #plushie ao was honestly adorable #and also dude like what even is canon christian's beef with ao #recreyo fic #myyyyy oneshot ficcccc

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therhythmafterthesummer · 9 months ago

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I just had the most mouth watering thought over nothing.

So like a wr boys are aware of their strength and how they use it. It’s not a problem for GingerBin, both of them can take and dish whatever they want and they know their partner will be physically okay.

But for our human/wolf couples. It’s just like subtle moments where maybe they lift up the couch with their partner in it in search for something, or they catch their partner as they are falling without even thinking about it or breaking a sweat. But I think the holy grail is their reflex when they partner is in danger of being hit by something say a ball thrown off in a park or like when they have to yank them out of the way of like traffic/ out of the street.

Orrrrrr if they are play wrestling, showing them how quickly they can pin them into submission (god Chris would love that for the primal play, Minho would do it just to win…but also turn it into teasing kitten)

Idk something about that is just so hot because they act like it’s nothing and then it’s just their girlies who are baffled

-🥝

you're so so SO right. those quick reflexes and their strength are certainly up there in the girls' lists of attractive attributes. i feel like even our spiciest would find great satisfaction seeing Changbin being all Stronk (because i'm pretty sure he's still stronger than her....)

for Minho it's mostly just convenient (it's always been. whenever kitten called him to help her move he always took it as a great opportunity to show his skills....) but also like you said, because teasing her is super fun and seeing her pout and go all like "that's unfair" when he manages to immobilise her is such a cute sight...

lastly, of COURSE Chris' strength elevates their primal play. they probably can't count the amount of times they've started a chase just for Chris to finally catch pretty and pin her ass up face down on the ground/floor to have his way with her (it's all consensual and agreed beforehand ofc ofc. we know, we know...) [i've actually had an idea for this for the longest time but i haven't had the chance to write it yet sdkjfhskdjfhsf]

ugghh, stronk boys are stronk...

#🥝 anon #ask #wereroomies ask #wereroomies headcanons

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merinsedai · 27 days ago

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More bingo snippets

for the @dreamlingbingo

snippet 1/4

Square/Prompt:E3- Bad Pick Up Lines

Title: Robert Gadling's Diary

Rating: T

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Warnings: n/a

Additional Tags: Bridget Jones' Diary au, general silliness,

It's me again, filling some more prompts with this silly AU of Bridget Jones. But Merin, you cry, will you ever write something where you haven't transposed the characters into a different story? To which I reply.... no? Well, maybe. That can be a 2025 goal. For now, have more au silliness. I have.... 4.... of these I think.

“You know my Robert, don’t you?” she trills. “He used to run around your lawn with no clothes on, remember?”

Fucking hell, Hob really wishes he’d had the balls to say no to the turkey curry buffet for once. Then he’d have been at home with his head down the toilet, same as all normal people in this Twixmas week instead of being subject to the mortifying ordeal that is his mother’s bizarre attempt at setting him up with an (admittedly handsome) stranger.

Said handsome stranger certainly looks as if he wished that Hob had stayed at home as well, despite the fact they’ve not exchanged a single word. His sharp blue-eyed gaze sweeps over Hob once before settling back on his face, managing to convey an expression of supreme and haughty disdain with just the slight curl of his lip. It is actually quite impressive.

“Not as such, no,” Morpheus says in a surprisingly deep and measured voice. Dammit, nice face. Nice voice. Why couldn’t he have the nice personality too? Holy Trinity, that. Not that Hob is adverse to nasty bastards per se. Especially pretty ones… maybe his mother had chosen well for once?

“Well, I’ll leave you to it!” Hob’s mother says brightly. “Una’s been on the gravy and it’ll need sieving, mark my words! Have fun, darlings!” And she sashays away, taking the plate of gherkins with her. Hob didn’t even get the opportunity to ask if Morpheus wanted one. That would have given him something to say at least.

There is a long moment of awkward silence, which Morpheus doesn’t seem inclined to break, so Hob does.

“So, are you staying with your parents for Christmas?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Hob waits a moment to see if there will be any elaboration to this statement but there isn’t.

“I’ve just arrived today. Been down in London, partying, y’know. Killer hangover but, “ he waggles the glass in his hand, half-full and still glistening with condensation, “hair of the dog, n’ all!”

“I see.”

“Got any plans for New Year?”

“No.”

Bloody hell, this bloke is hard work. Hob’s not been subject to monosyllables since high school. Still, he’s not one to back away from a challenge. He’s good at making people laugh, at forging a connection through humour. Maybe some silly pick lines will help break the ice and loosen this guy up.

“Is your dad a boxer?” he asks and Morpheus’s eyebrows draw down in confusion at the non sequitur .

“What?”

“‘Cause you’re a knockout.” Hob says with a wink. “Or maybe you’re an artist?”

“I am a lawyer,” Morpheus frowns, showing not one bit of recognition of these ridiculous lines.

“Oh? ‘Cause you’re doing a really good job of drawing me in!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look, my mother’s trying to set us up,” Hob says cheerfully, reaching out and poking Morpheus in the chest in what he hopes is a conspiratorial manner. Luckily he remembers to do this with the hand holding his champagne flute and not the one holding his burning cigarette. Things probably can’t get that much worse, but burning a hole in a suit jacket that looks like it cost more than Hob’s yearly rent would definitely make it so. “And you’re much better looking than her usual picks, so I thought I’d give it my best shot!”

“And that was your best shot?” Morpheus says, managing to combine flatness and incredulity in one measured tone. “Corny puns about my possible profession?”

“Ah well, I thought so. Shall I try a different one? Hm..” Hob takes a pull on his cigarette, humming thoughtfully. “Ok, how about: ‘do you have WiFi, because I think we have a connection,” he laughs at the faintly repulsed look on Morpheus’s face. “No? What about ‘are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile!”

“And this normally works for you, does it?” Morpheus asks before Hob can go on. “When you are… ‘Picking someone up”? He laces the words with derision and Hob huffs a laugh. Blimey, this guy is uptight. Not the hint of a smile from him. Not even an indulgent eye-roll.

“Yeah, sometimes,” he admits with a shrug. “Makes people laugh at least, starts the conversation going. It’s just a bit of lighthearted cheesiness. And hey, apparently there’s even been research about it. The things people will research nowadays, eh?”

“I see,” Morpheus’s tone is clipped. Unimpressed and dismissive. “Well. As… illustrative as this conversation has been, I believe it is time to. Eat.” he nods his head in dismissal. “Good evening.”

#dreamling #dreamling fanfic #sandman fanfic #dreamling bingo #dreamling bingo 2024

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silverstarfics · 1 year ago

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I’m convinced I wrote this in my sleep because I don’t remember writing most of it and I am ridiculously tired right now. But hey, the prompt was ‘let’s celebrate’ so I wanted to write something light-hearted without thinking too much so I guess I’ve achieved that goal

@thunder-pride

AO3 link

Thunderbird One had a very large, very conspicuous pride flag painted along her hull.

Given their current surroundings, this did not stand out as much as one might expect, but it was certainly a marked change from that morning. Somehow, in the five hours since Alan had last seen the Thunderbird in the hangar to now, at Sydney Pride, the transformation had taken place without any prior warning or even the smallest of hints.

It wasn’t as if their support of the community wasn’t public knowledge – along with the fact that several of them were part of the aforementioned community. Gordon had somehow talked Brains into creating him a second baldric in pink, yellow and blue and promptly switched out his usual yellow for the pansexual-themed sash every pride month. Virgil had a tiny flag painted onto the Jaws of Life. Alan himself had slapped as many stickers as possible onto his astroboards.

International Rescue wasn’t even supposed to be making an appearance. These sorts of things usually had to be organised in advance with the help of their hardworking PR team.

Today, they were here as themselves. There wasn’t a flash of blue uniform to seen, although admittedly their outfits still stood out in the crowd; Virgil’s because of the intricate details of the design he’d painted onto his shirt, Alan’s because he couldn’t decide on a single colour scheme and so had opted for all of them, and Gordon’s because he resembled a walking disco ball. If Alan had considered his brother’s Hawaiian shirt bright then this was blinding and that was before he’d gotten hold of the glitter spray.

The glitter spray was currently in Kayo’s possession as Gordon demanded she reapplied it. His offended squawks were almost loud enough to be heard above the crowd.

“You nearly got it in my eyes!”

Kayo’s eyeroll was practically audible. “Stop whining. You’re fine.”

“I’m blinded, Kay.”

“You’re not, but we might be. How many sequins are you wearing?”

“Not enough.”

Neither of them had yet noticed the Thunderbird descending towards the top of a nearby apartment block in full view of the crowd. In their defence, the event was loud and so the rumble of VTOLs was mostly lost in the mix of music and merriment. But the clamour of voices and delighted shouts was fairly hard to miss.

Alan stared at One for a long minute, rubbing his knuckles against his eyes to check if his vision was playing tricks on him. It took a moment to remember that he’d probably just smeared glitter across his face. Dangit.

“Holy shit,” Gordon exclaimed gleefully, finally glimpsing One. “He actually did it.”

Kayo tossed the glitter spray into Gordon’s bag. “I thought Scott was busy today?”

Gordon waved a hand vaguely. Kayo hooked her fingers through the mesh of his shirt and yanked him off the curb. He twisted to face her with an offended yelp and Alan reached back to steady him before he could slip on the mess of confetti coating the street.

“Start talking, fishboy,” Kayo demanded. It was genuinely impressive how she managed to maintain an intimidating aura whilst wearing rhinestones. “What do you know?”

Gordon attempted to back up a pace. “To be fair, he didn’t lie to you. He has been busy today. Just… you know. Arranging certain things. Like, uh, surprises.”

“Gordon, I swear.” Kayo jabbed a finger at him until he went cross-eyed. “You know I hate surprises.”

“You’ll like this one!”

Alan was still caught up in the pride flag on Thunderbird One. It wasn’t just a small painting but a large-scale expanse of colour over her silver hull, sparkling in the sunshine. Cameras flashed and phones buzzed. #ThunderPride was probably already trending across social media. He spun around to Gordon with a breathless grin to match the giddy joy which had been fizzing under his skin ever since they’d touched down on Australian soil that morning.

“Did you know?”

Gordon gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Possibly. I might have mentioned the fact that this is the first pride you’ve been to since you came out. Or, you know, ever. I mean, I just intended for him to turn up but apparently he took ‘showing support’ to the next level. Which is awesome.” He fished his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, hey. We’re trending.”

“Scott’s trending,” Kayo corrected.

Gordon elbowed her. “Actually, Thunderbird One is trending if you want to be technical and boring.” He rose onto his toes to glimpse something over her shoulder. “If you turn around now, you’ll see your surprise.”

The streets were packed with so many people that it was near impossible to pick anyone out from the rest. Confetti drifted in the air, constantly churned into glittering clouds. Music sought out any hint of sadness and banished it to leave joy and acceptance in its wake.

Alan had never seen so much colour in one place. He couldn’t stop smiling. Even Kayo seemed at ease, with her flag wrapped around her shoulders and the flower crown that Virgil had talked her into wearing. Then she let out a shout and flung herself at the person who had arrived with Scott.

“Hello, darling,” Penelope greeted her, unable to repress laughter as Kayo pulled her into a hug. She had little beads woven into her blonde hair and had embellished a pastel pink dress with pins. The flag painted onto her upper arm was not her own, however. “I’m wearing it in John’s honour since he won’t attend such a crowded event,” she explained, sensing Alan’s confusion.

Kayo looped an arm around Penelope’s shoulders. “You told me you had a conference today.”

“I did, but not anymore. We thought it would be a nice surprise.”

“We?” Scott questioned, arms spread to let Gordon cover him in glitter spray.

Penelope gave an exasperated sigh. “It was mostly Scott’s idea.”

“Mostly,” Scott echoed. “It was entirely my idea, but whatever makes you happy, Pen.” He batted away Gordon’s hands. “Okay, squid. That’s enough glitter.”

“You can never have enough glitter,” Gordon declared.

Kayo stole the glitter spray. “I’m confiscating this.”

Scott scanned the crowd. “Where’s Virgil?”

“Oh, we sent him to get food like an hour ago.” Gordon didn’t seem particularly concerned by their brother’s disappearance. “Queues are crazy. He’ll probably be back soon. He won’t miss the parade anyway and that starts in ten minutes.”

“By we sent Virgil to get food,” Kayo interjected, “Gordon means that he bugged Virgil into agreeing to get some by being annoying as fu-”

Penelope clamped a hand over Kayo’s mouth – the only person who could get away with that without immediately being murdered. “There are children around.”

“-fudge,” Kayo finished. “Annoying as fudge.”

“It’s not my fault that I have a fast metabolism,” Gordon protested. “I get hungry quickly, you know that. I’m a growing guy!”

“You haven’t grown in years,” Scott pointed out.

“Shut up, Scotty. Not everyone can have your freaky height.”

“John does.”

“John’s weird.”

Kayo cut in with a mischievous smirk. “Just accept the fact that you’re short, Gords.”

“I am not short!”

“Uh huh,” Scott deadpanned, propping his elbow on Gordon’s head. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Gordon shoved him away. “I can’t believe you’re bullying me at Pride. Isn’t that a hate crime? Rude. Get outta here, Scooter.”

“I painted a flag on One,” Scott defended himself. “Isn’t that enough for you?”

“You painted a flag on One for Alan.”

“I painted it to show support for everyone.”

“But mostly for Alan.”

“Wait, really?” Alan tore his gaze away from the crowd to stare at his eldest brother. He couldn’t quite keep his voice steady as emotion spread outwards in his chest. “You did that for me?”

Scott wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him close. “It’s your first Pride, Allie. That can be pretty overwhelming. I just wanted to make you feel as supported as possible.”

“Because you’re a softie,” Gordon stage whispered.

“Whatever, shortass,” Scott retorted, ignoring Gordon’s outraged gasp. “Yeah, Al, it’s mostly for you, but it’s also important for people to know IR supports them.”

Virgil finally reappeared with armfuls of various goodies which Gordon and Kayo dived on like a pair of ravenous gulls. His gaze travelled from Scott to TB1 and then to Penelope.

“Scott,” he sighed fondly, “When I said don’t go overboard, this is what I meant. You were supposed to show up with a pride flag.”

“And I did,” Scott agreed cheerfully. “I just happened to paint it on my Thunderbird, that’s all. John suggested using a hologram but that felt like cheating. Go big or go home, right?”

Penelope seized Kayo’s hand. “The parade is about to start!”

Gordon barrelled ahead, a livewire of pure energy. “Hurry up! I want a good view!”

The entire day had been a whirlwind so far. There was an undercurrent of pure joy which wove through every soul present; the elation at having the precious freedom to celebrate themselves and the people they loved. Smiles were exchanged freely. Everyone seemed welcoming and kind. Compliments were treated like currency. Alan was struck by a wave of pure fondness for everyone around him, so much so that it left him momentarily frozen.

“Hey.” Virgil’s hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay, Allie?”

“Yeah.” Alan jolted himself out of the trance. “Yeah, I’m great.” He grabbed Virgil’s hand. “C’mon! Let’s celebrate!”

#thunderpride #thunderpride 2023 #thunderbirds are go

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seamstressthepainteater · 2 years ago

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I don’t think I really like how The Mandalorian has been MCUified if that makes sense

Like the first season was it’s own thing, Mando went to different places across the galaxy trying to hide some kid he found from remnants of the fallen empire, it was largely its own thing and helped make the Star Wars galaxy seem bigger for me. It also had its own characters that managed to be memorable and interesting. It was a unique take on Star Wars I wanted to see more of.

Then season 2 comes out, and it’s a bit larger scale wise. Mando’s gotta find another Jedi to fulfill his kid’s destiny, which brings him back to going around the galaxy finding leads on one of these Jedi folks. There are a lot of returning characters in this season; most of the surviving season one character show up for at least an episode, Mayfeld gets some damn good characterization as a former imperial after being a one-note asshole in season 1, Ashoka gets an episode to learn more about Grogu and set up her own show, Boba Fett is a looming presence until he actually shows up and fucks shit up, Bo Katan returns with her besties, and even Luke Skywalker is in this bitch. Now I don’t like cameos just for the sake of having them, but the legacy characters at least either have good reason or are done well. Ashoka needs setup for a show, Fett is finally given the chance to be cool as shit, and Bo Katan going from ruler of Mandalore in Rebels to just another pirate gives context to why Gus Fring has the Darksaber (Luke’s just kinda there to be there though). I wouldn’t like to need to watch Clone Wars and Rebels to know what the hell Ashoka, Bo Katan, or the Darksaber are if I didn’t already, but I feel they’re given just enough explanation to make sense without it. And all of it was tied up in an emotional ending with Mando and Grogu that payed off everything set up throughout the season and made the entire thing feel grounded. It was probably the best ending the show could’ve had. This was the last time I would feel this way.

When Book Of Boba Fett was announced at the end of Mando season 2, I was exited. I loved how Boba Fett was handled in Mando and hoped that the show would flesh him out better. It was then that the rug was pulled from under my feet. Like Fredrick Fitzgerald Fazbear coming down upon a poor night guard in the dead of night, I was jumped with the truth of this show. This wasn’t a show about Boba Fett. This was just a season of Mando they shoved Boba Fett on for more runtime.

Theatrics aside, BOBF was just really disappointing to me. The Boba Fett stuff was kinda garbage, they perfected his character in Mando as a brutal goddamn terminator man, then they went back and went “he doesn’t want to be a bounty hunter, he just wants to live peacefully as a crime boss or something” which felt really weird to me. The Flashbacks were also so fucking boring, they could’ve been shorted down to one episode and given more time to Boba. I praised Mando season 2 for both giving legacy characters purpose and explanation so you didn’t need to know what their deal was. But you see, I’m pretty sure Cathleen Kennedy read my complement on that, realized she fucked up by making a story that can stand on its own, used her fucking Disney witch magic to go back in time, and had the guy who worked on the writing for those episodes shot at point blank range because holy shit they fucking shattered the ball with Cad Bane.

The show makes a point of saying that Cad Bane and Boba had a history, and this confused me. They never specified what exactly this history was, so I looked through everything I could get my grubby mits on. I looked through every one of both Bane and Boba’s appearances in Clone Wars, checked comics with Bane, looked through all of the officially released media I thought could be a lead. Then I noticed something about Bane in BOBF, he had a metal plate on his head. This wasn’t much, but I thought it was something, so I went through his animated appearances one more time and noticed he had the same plate in The Bad Batch. This just made me more confused, so I checked around and found it. The “history” the show was referring too. See when they brought back Clone Wars for season 7 they took unfinished arcs and gave them new life, but some were left on the cutting room floor. I said “couldn’t find any officially released material” because what they were alluding too was an unfinished episode, you can even see the part where Bane gets shot in the head. The crux of Bane and Boba’s unfinished business was an unfinished episode that wasn’t even considered canon at that point.

This was my Joker arc.

This show was so lazy, so uncaring about making the story seem complete without supplementary material, that the only thing they did to give the main villain a connection with the hero was a vague allusion to an event that wasn’t even officially released. Could they not have cut some of the boring-ass shit in the desert to flesh out this relationship? Was it too much to ask for this show to get even close to how Mando used it’s legacy characters? Was it too much to ask for competence?

Besides that, I thought that it kinda fucked up the great ending I thought Mando season 2 had. I knew they weren’t gonna be separated for that long, but I would’ve liked them to be apart a bit longer, or have them reunite in their own show. Feel the same way about Mando’s new starfighter, I think it would’ve been less alienating to have him get that in the beginning of season 3

Speaking of season 3, it’s also kinda disappointing. I think the shift from Mando to Bo Katan was disappointing, it’s like what happened to Boba Fett with Mando ironically enough, but it’s still disappointing that in a world where it seems like almost every character is slated for their own show, Bo was shoved into Mando. I also think Gus Fring seems less intimidating, I feel him being a part of this “Shadow Empire” is less threatening than a warlord trying to bring about his own empire. It also has the same problem as BOBF where you need to know stuff beforehand. I don’t think they ever explicitly state Gideon carpet bombed Mandalore, they just kinda said it was cursed. I know it was mentioned in BOBF, but again I shouldn’t need to watch another show to understand what’s going on in this one. I’m not gonna go too long with this one since it’s not over yet, but I’m not sure it’ll fix my problems with this season.

Anyway my biggest takeaway from this is that I hate Book of Boba Fett way more than I first thought.

#star wars #the mandolarian #book of boba fett #first thing tomorrow I’m gonna punch Cad Bane in the back of the head

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hollabastiongirl · 1 year ago

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Monday Six (thousand, minus about 5k)

tagged by @ornstein

I could indeed give six lines of a WIP I've been ignoring for months and months at this point, but instead I'm gonna post a thousand or so words of a piece that I never intend to finish, but amused me to write as an exercise nonetheless since I haven't written much at all for the My Hero fandom before. What follows is a strange mix of goofy and angsty, but I figure I may as well post it somewhere so it'll stop sitting accusingly in my drafts. Thanks for the tag, ornstein, and here I'll tag @nightfallrevel @snarkyauthor @castershellwrites & anyone else that wants to share six (or however many, go wild) lines of a WIP.

"Holy fuck," Katsuki blurts suddenly and rather loudly, because for all that he's been a fucking ace at everything he's tried since he was old enough to walk, he somehow still hasn't mastered the art of volume control, "I'm in love with that little shit."

From across the library table that they're (reluctantly, on Katsuki's part) sharing, Todoroki barely reacts. He scribbles down a few more meticulously crafted notes on the bullshit hero politics course they're being forced to take and says, quiet and distracted, "I should hope so. Haven't you been together for awhile now?"

"What??? No?"

Katsuki screeching at near-maximum volume is apparently enough to actually get the bastard's full attention, as heterochromatic eyes deign to lift away from the neat scrawl on his notebook paper in order to level him with a look that's more flat than anything, but skirts the edges of annoyance all the same. Guy's a freak like that, and Katsuki can't figure out how he does it. "Come on, Bakugou. I'm not blind. Or deaf. He gushes about you and your supposed 'manliness' all the time."

"WHAT," Katsuki shouts, because seriously, what. The librarian shoots him a nasty look and he just barely resists the burning urge to give her the finger. That hag has some serious pull around here, as he unfortunately learned the last time he pissed her off and received two full weeks of detention for his efforts—most of which he had to spend being one of Dominatrix-sensei's personal bitch boys. And if that wasn't bad enough, Ball Head had served almost as many detentions as Katsuki had. He still shudders just thinking about that whole fiasco. Not fucking worth it. He manages to lower his voice to hiss, "are you actually talking about Kirishima right now," right at Todoroki's stupid, blank face.

"Well, yes. Who else would I be talking about?" IcyHot pauses with a blink upwards, as though an alternate answer will drop from the ceiling and bash him over his stupid candy-cane colored head if he thinks about it hard enough (likely not, but Katsuki might hit him anyway. On principle). None is apparently forthcoming, so he glances back at Katsuki with a shrug. "But from your reaction, I'm assuming I'm off the mark. So…Kaminari?"

Shit, now that's just insulting. To both of them, even. Katsuki would be willing to bet serious cash that they'd both rather drop dead than somehow fall in love with each other. This idiot, he thinks. What a goddamn joke.

"NO, dumbass. Not Dunce-Face."

"...Sero?"

There comes a flash of something that could be interesting to consider in Todoroki's mismatched eyes as he mentions the Human Tape Dispenser, or would be if only Katsuki wasn't preoccupied with NOT leaping across the table to strangle this dumb bastard with his bare hands. Instead, he very calmly says, in his calmest voice, really, really calmly, "ARE YOU STUPID. NO. IT'S DEKU, YOU FUCKING HALF-N-HALF WIT."

"If I'm a half and half wit, doesn't that actually imply I'm a whole wi—"

"For fuck's sake," Katsuki cuts him off with a groan, letting his forehead drop against the cool wooden grain of their study table with a thunk. He'd rather glare a hole through the tabletop right now on the off chance he suddenly develops the ability to explode people (Todoroki, namely) with his eyes. He can't afford to add a manslaughter charge onto his current list of problems. Being in love with Deku is problem enough.

Actually, it's probably the biggest problem he's ever had.

"Are you….okay?" Turd-oroki asks him, seeming curiously wary but looking more constipated than anything. The words sound strange as they pass through the space between them, strained and sour as though Strawberry Shortcake is having some sort of sudden internal crisis about the idea of trying to comfort Katsuki, of all people. Can't really blame him. Katsuki doesn't know how to comfort himself, either. Never has. "You seem…off."

"Off." Katsuki huffs, though he doesn't bother denying it. "Brilliant fuckin' analysis. Screw being a hero, you should be a goddamn therapist."

There's a pause, like either Todoroki is actually considering a career change or maybe just considering bashing Katsuki over the head with his textbook to put them both out of their misery, and then he says, quietly and with palpable concern, "you seem really off. You didn't even tell me to go to hell just now."

"Go to hell," Katsuki mumbles after the fact. Any vitriol that would otherwise sharpen his voice is tempered by the way his cheek is still smushed morosely against the table. Even Katsuki can't remain intimidating while feeling so pathetic, though he can't bring himself to care much. Not when he feels like this, sick and hot and twisted up inside. "Eat shit and die. Shut the fuck up and get out."

Todoroki ignores all that, which…fair. "Do you…want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" As Katsuki finally sits up, all the better to glare at him, IcyHot leans forward a bit and gives him the single most horrifying look of commiseration Katsuki's ever experienced in his shitty life. He's obviously trying to empathize with Katsuki in some way, and even seems to be managing it, and this is… Well, it's too pathetic to stand any longer. He doesn't want to have this conversation. He can't believe he'd been stupid enough to open his fat mouth and blurt this shit out in the first place. Why can't he ever keep his fuckin' mouth shut when it counts?

He does keep it shut, now. He can't think of a thing to say. Nothing that doesn't make him sound like a lovesick loser. Instead, he meets Todoroki's probing gaze and shrugs. He can't be sure of anything, anymore.

Under the table, Katsuki's hands ball into tight fists, fingernails digging savagely into his palms. It eases some of the tension in him as the skin breaks, as though the confusion and longing and misery he's stubbornly holding inside is escaping through the cuts little by little, like air from a sad, deflating pool toy.

He feels a bit like that, right now. Collapsing into himself and wilting from the steady force of gravity. Inescapable. Inevitable. Inexorable. A weight that doesn't push, but pulls—a force that reels you in so gently that you barely even notice it's happening. Not until you're already falling.

#bakudeku #bkdk #this was just for fun so Bakugou may seem a little over the top #none of this was thought through i was just going for it #so sorry for any ooc-ness if you actually end up reading this #trying to get a feel for his voice and all that #this was never gonna see the light of day but I enjoy rebelling against myself like that

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dukeoftheblackstar · 10 months ago

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@sinisterexaggerator

Shriv is such a sweetheart, I just can't filth him up. I cannot, for the life of me, not being him to Husband #4 status because I am a toxic bitch wife and this sweetest blueberry muffin deserves nothing but blowjobs on his birthday, massages in the afternoon, and cuddles with words full of affirmation, praise, and kisses at night — and even more blowjobs in the morning before work because it'll be another day of being fueled of being cast aside because he's too nice ;///////////;

I adore the internal bubbles! I love how distracted he gets, I love how his thoughts just get drown out and then boom! Back to reality over the cuts! I love the cuts and I do the same because they're so fun to read and write!!!

All the while I'm just cooing at this precious cupcake while cheering at reader because mans does need to relax ;-----;

I have a permanently etched smile on face reading this. I was cheesing so damn much and that end was just a beautiful, 'bitch bye' mode — a very proud:

Thank you for recommending this ;//////////; I am at my feels again for Shriv ;///////////////////////////; ♥

Shriv couldn’t remember the last time his head was absent of thought, negative or otherwise, though negative seemed to be predominant. For a moment, Shriv felt like he had forgotten what it was like to relax, and that made him frown to himself because no one else was around to see it.

Baby, no ;---; Come here ;-----;

He won medals and made girls smile. Shriv only made girls give disgusted faces.

Baby no ;--; , you make me smile like a fucking idiot and Luke can suck my imaginary balls, ok?

Everyone had such … small heads. Skin instead of scales. Tiny eyes instead of big red or yellow ones. Hair. Hair … He would be loath to admit it, but he liked the stuff. It was … interesting.

BABY I LOVE YOUR BEAUTIFUL BALD HEAD. STOP IT.

façade of busyness

Oh Shriv, you beautiful, adorable little thing you. I could just gobble you tf up.

you were constantly under duress. Duros. A Duros under duress.

Duros under duress is synonymous to damsel in distress, no one can tell me otherwise

“Gods, you’re hot-” you started off. “-what?” “-headed. Hotheaded.”

asgdhjkasgdjkashdajkshdjakjlhdajkshdaskjdhsahd

Your mouth was currently wrapped around something that was threatening to burn Shriv’s cheeks red-hot; hotter than the Lava back on Sullust would have been had he not of managed to escape - no thanks to Lando.

TO THE HORNY JAIL YOU GO YOU SWEET BLUBERRY MUFFIN YOU!

“Do that. Just keep doing… that - scolding me.” you teased. His temper did not bother you at all, even though you bothered Shriv a lot.

This is the kink. Yes. Yes. Let me just suck on something while your temper flares. This is my fix. This is my drug.

Did you say it that way on purpose? It wasn’t a normal “sir” like you would expect a cadet to address a superior officer. No, it had sounded like you were …

I AM SCREAMINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

“Don’t treat me like this. I know I’m an ass, but whoever put you up to-”

Y HE BUILT LIKE THE WORD PRECIOUS' DEFENITION BE HIS NAME?

“Swee-sweetheart…” he mumbled out against your lips.

OKAY SO NOW BOSSK AND SHRIV ARE GONNA FIGHT FOR THAT HUSBAND #4 SPOT BECAUSE #5 IS RESERVED OKAY. I NEED THIS MAN TO SPOIL ME WITH MONIKERS STAMMERING LIKE THAT.

This girl’s going to think you’ve never gotten a… Well, you haven’t.

I just wanna give him a blowjob for his birthday xDDDDDDDD OMG I FEEL SO BAD FOR HIM xD

Holy karkin’ hells, she’s really going for it – what is this girl on – maybe she’s mentally…

I AM LOSING IT FOR SHRIV JFCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC

OK, it was a purr.

THE THINGS I WOULD DO TO HIM TO ASKJDASKJHDJAKSLJDALKSJDHAKL SING BABYDOLL

His eyelids flitted until he was able to fully open them to gaze at one of the most beautiful sights his sore eyes had ever seen. — You.

WHAT THE ACTUAL AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

“A blowjob a day keeps the melancholy away.”

IT IS I, I AM READER, BITCH IS ME, OKAY.

She’s gonna… do this… everyday??! Shriv was either terribly frightened, or terribly turned on in that moment. Maybe a little of both, though he did not have time to speak or react besides the shocked and somewhat appalled look on his face that only made you giggle as you turned towards the exit of his office.

WHY. IS. HE. SO. FUCKING. ADORABLE?!

But there was one thing he did know - and that was that he still didn’t know your name.

GOD DAMN IT. YOU DID IT AGAIN. THAT END. SHRIV, BEBBI, IT IS I. MY NAME IS DUCHESS. 'TIS I, DUCHII. HAHAHHAHAHA

Shriv Suurgav x F! Reader (Smut)

Summary: There’s something urgent and terrible about this war, how it brings strange bedfellows together from across the galaxy who might not otherwise have met. Shriv Suurgav and you are so unlike each other, it’s not surprising that you've found an unexpected attraction to one another.

He's overworked - he sits alone, or tries to, in his office, or other places throughout the ship. You’ve come to bother him, or better yet, help him find a way to relieve his stress. This “Duros under duress” must relax.

*This started out as a one and done, but has turned into a series of "one shots" with a repeat reader who serves to provide Shriv with a "sexual awakening" of sorts, while at the same time helping to boost his self-esteem, at least at first ...

Chapter 1 | ?

---

Ao3

P.S.: This will wind up being part of a series of works involving Cad Bane, and it is on hold until I complete their first encounter. I am very excited. More to come, eventually.

(Credit to @Ladylove72 on Ao3 for her comment. It was so good I wanted to use it in the updated fic description! Thank you!)

#oh god shriv #i need to be in your head

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clairenatural · 4 years ago

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i had a dream that sam and dean took cas to an art museum and showed him all these paintings of angels and it was like that scene in vincent and the doctor and cas said these paintings are beautiful because they depict the angels as human when a true angel could never be described as anything but monstrous and i woke up crying

anon i love this SO much. i love it so much i had to write it. this is 1.4k, destiel, human!cas

They’re making their way out of the city, monster killed and day saved, when Castiel sees a poster, pasted up on the side of the plywood wall of a construction site. It’s an angel—he doesn’t recognize the artist, but he’d guess late 19th century. Be Not Afraid: a History of Angels in Art, it proclaims, the logo of the city’s largest art gallery tucked into the corner.

Castiel stares at it. The angel on the poster stares back, wings spread and staff raised. Valiant. Something in his heart twitches, but it’s hard to place. He still has his blade, tucked safely into the trunk with the rest of their frequently used weapons, and he never had wings like that; even the shadows, the ones they showed to humans, were simply the closest representation to the real thing possible in this dimension (his back aches anyway, dimly, his human body reacting to the loss as if they were real severed appendages. He ignores it).

Dean notices, because of course he does. He stops, because of course he does, and flags Sam down before his long legs can carry him too far ahead. “Hey. You good?”

Castiel isn’t sure how long he’s been staring at the poster, but it’s long enough that Dean is obviously concerned. “Hm? Oh. Yes, I’m—I’m fine.”

Dean nods but doesn’t move. He considers the poster. “Art gallery, huh?” he asks, avoiding the obvious elephant. Castiel appreciates it. He nods back.

“I’ve never been to one,” he offers, as explanation. It seems odd—he can remember the painting of the Sistine Chapel, he remembers watching with fascination as humans began collecting the smaller paintings into collections and museums, but he’d never been inside one. It hadn’t seemed necessary. Humans collect art in large boxes to remember their history, but Castiel has seen it all.

Dean seems surprised by this. “Seriously?” Castiel nods, and there’s a pause, and he’s about to turn and keep heading towards the car, and Kansas, and home, when Dean claps him on the shoulder and turns to call over his own.

“Sammy! How do you feel about seeing some art?”

“You want to go to an art gallery?” Sam sounds incredulous, and is closer behind him than Cas expected. He hadn’t noticed him retreat the half-block he’d managed to gain on them.

“Yeah, why not? Come on. What happened to ‘a little culture wouldn’t hurt, Dean?’”

"What happened to ‘I’ve got plenty of culture, eat your damn burger?’”

“It’ll be fun, Sam,” Dean counters. Something in his tone has changed. Cas doesn’t think too hard about it.

There’s a long pause, and Cas knows there’s some sort of communication happening he can’t hear or see. “…Okay,” Sam concedes. “Okay, sure. Yeah. Let’s go.”

So they do.

Dean makes a comment about “haven’t been in one of these since I was a kid,” before they all fall into the hushed silence of the museum floor. It’s nice—nicer than Castiel had expected. Not in aesthetics; the building is sleek, and modern, and the art is obviously beautiful. But it’s nice to be there. It feels almost Holy—humans, funny creatures they are, with their habit of treating their own culture with the respect of something divine. Creating houses of worship out of museums and libraries and living rooms.

He wanders through the various exhibits but doesn’t really pay attention until he ends up in the exhibit from the poster. He’d managed to lose the Winchesters halfway through the photography exhibit, when both the brothers had gotten distracted. Castiel had continued onward anyway, on a mission, and by the time he finds himself walking into the angel exhibit he’s on his own.

He comes to a stop in front of one of the largest paintings in the room. It’s not the same angel as the poster. It’s several, actually, looking over what appears to be Mary and a baby Jesus. The angels are beautiful—smooth, flawless skin. They have long hair that looks soft, even in paint. They’re wearing white robes, and their wings are white and dove-like. None of these angels have several heads, rotating bands of fire, or thousands of eyes. They’re beautiful, but they aren’t angels. The human who painted this didn’t know that, of course—none of them did. Humanity was faced with the concept of divinity and conceptualized it as a version of itself.

“The real things ain’t as cuddly, huh?”

Dean’s voice startles him, which he hates, both because he hates being startled and because he’s still adjusting to Dean being able to sneak up on him.

“I was just thinking,” he starts, pretending he’d known Dean was there the whole time, “you paint us like we’re human.” Not ‘us’ anymore, he reminds himself, but he brushes that thought off. Not now.

Beside him, Dean snorts. “Yeah, well. If you’d told any of those Renaissance guys that the real angels are dickhead balls of celestial intent, they’d’ve arrested you for heresy.”

Castiel shakes his head. “No.” he pauses. “Well, yes. But that’s—” he turns to face Dean for the first time. He notices Sam over Dean’s shoulder, focusing intently on a painting a few feet away and obviously pretending not to listen.

“My father—God—Chuck,” he cycles through, which will never not be weird, “created us first, but not in his image. We weren’t worthy of that. Only you were. Humans, his perfect creation, modeled after their creator. But then—” he turns back to the painting and gestures to it. “You created us in your image. You thought about divinity and you couldn’t conceive anything more Holy than yourselves.”

Dean shifts. He tries for a laugh, but it comes out short. “Well, damn, Cas. Way to make a guy feel self-centered.”

Castiel turns back to him. He blinks. He frowns. That’s not what he means. “Most of my siblings thought so,” he agrees. “But I always thought it was an honor. Look,” He turns again and reaches out for the painting, only remembering a few inches from its surface to not touch it. “This one has a lyre. You always paint us playing music. But music, art….these are human things, Dean.” He lets his hand fall, but keeps his eyes forward. “We’re soldiers. They don’t teach us to play the harp in Heaven, they train us to fight. But these angels are…soft. Kind. Angels you trust to protect. The kind of angels people pray to, build churches to.” He looks back at Dean, who is staring at him with a frown. He holds his gaze, steady, and takes a deep breath before finishing. “I wish I was—that any of us were—worthy of being depicted this way. I wish we were the angels you paint us as.”

There’s a long pause while Dean searches his face, obviously trying to decide on the right reaction. If they were at home, Cas thinks Dean might reach out and hug him. Instead, Dean reaches out to clap a hand on his shoulder—he lets it linger there, and Cas knows what it means, so that’s okay, too. “For what it’s worth,” he starts, and his voice is softer than the last time he spoke. “You’re the closest thing to those angels that I’ve ever seen.”

It’s a nice sentiment, but Cas smiles sadly as he turns back to the painting. “I’m not any kind of angel anymore,” he points out, and tries his hardest to keep his voice neutral.

Dean squeezes his shoulder and tilts his head, trying to recapture Castiel’s gaze. “Hey. Look at me.” Reluctantly, he looks back over. “Your wings weren’t what made you a good angel, alright?” he brings his other hand up to poke into Castiel’s chest. “That was all in here.”

He sounds like he’s quoting the Wizard of Oz, and Cas wants to make a joke about that, but he’s also never wanted to kiss Dean more. He doesn’t, because they’re in a museum, and they’re still working up to that, but he makes a note to do it later. Instead, he reaches up and pulls Dean’s hand away from his chest, links it in his own, and squeezes.

“Thank you,” he says, and it’s earnest, and it’s for everything.

Dean smiles. He understands. He squeezes back.

#i do hope it was ok to write this #i was hoarding this ask until i could #bc i couldnt stop thinking about it!!!#Anonymous #answered #my words #over 1k words #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #i am Not an art historian so i tried to keep all the descriptions vague enough to not cause problems but if there are issues im sorry

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graphitesatellite · 3 years ago

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Omg Hello! I don't know if you have rules posted anywhere, so please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't abide by them aaaaaa how about LI's and MC finding out they're gonna have a kid (assuming the pair are like, actually capable of creating a kid with each other). I'd imagine there would be a lot of chaos lol PS i love your writing >w<

jdhdhdjdhd thank you anon you’re too sweet <3<3 and this request is so cute and fun, I’m excited to get into it

So let’s say each pair has just received confirmation from an outside source (whether that be a doctor or a magician or whatever) that they’re (unexpectedly) expecting. I’m not gonna specify who has what parts, so you can decide who you think would carry and no one has to be left out.

Asra

pure, radiant joy lights up his face as he gathers you in his arms and squishes you close. He is So Excited for this baby, he’s only known about them for five seconds, but the love he feels is all-encompassing and unconditional. Because this isn’t just Any Baby, it’s Your Baby, with him, a being created from your love for each other, a brand new member of your family. He probably cries a bit, huge happy tears that catch on his eyelashes and make them sparkle.

regardless of who carries, he starts nesting almost immediately. The furniture seems to move every time you look away as he searches for an arrangement that “feels right.” He can’t be trusted to go to the market by himself without bringing back mountains of pillows and blankets and stuffed toys. Whenever you manage to convince him to sit, he works on knitting baby clothes, and more blankets, and more stuffed toys. He would do anything to keep this baby safe and happy and warm.

at some point it occurs to him that something could happen to you two after the baby is born. He becomes a roiling ball of anxiety until you talk to every important person in your lives and make a plan ensuring that no matter what happens, there will always be someone who can take care of the baby. That helps him settle down some. The fear is still there, but he can at least function now.

with your help, he starts making a memory book, a collection of pictures and mementos and letters from you and your loved ones. It starts out like a traditional scrapbook, but the longer you work on it, the more creative and ambitious the project becomes. Each page ends up with its own enchantment: some sparkle when you touch them, some release sweet smells, some produce sounds, like the voices of everyone who wrote a letter. It’s a work of art, a complete masterpiece. When it’s done, Asra feels he can finally rest easy knowing the baby will always have a reminder of how much their family loves them.

Nadia

oh god. Oh holy shit. She needs a minute to sit down. She’s never wanted kids. At least, she’s never wanted Little Kids. You’ve surely talked about the possibility of adopting teenagers, but… she thought she’d taken all the necessary precautions to avoid this. If you also don’t want a baby, she’s in full support of terminating the pregnancy. If you actually Do want a baby… well, that makes things more complicated

for fun, let's say you do want the baby. Nadia loves and respects you too much to ignore what you want, so as shaken as she is, she will listen and consider it. You’re really going to have to ease her into the idea, though — she has A Lot of concerns and fears regarding motherhood. First and foremost, she has exactly zero experience with babies. She’s never gone out of her way to interact with one. What if she’s no good at it? What if she does a terrible job and never bonds with the baby and ends up estranged from her own child? There’s just so much that could go wrong.

you’ll have to remind her that she wouldn’t be doing this alone. It’s your baby just as much as hers, and you’re not going to let any of that worst case scenario stuff happen. Sure, the two of you might not be Perfect Parents, but that doesn’t automatically doom the whole endeavor. You’ll be allowed to mess up a little. And it’s not like you can’t ask for help! They do say it takes a village to raise a child, after all. With the friends you’ve made and the resources you have access to, you’ll be very well supported.

it takes a while for her to really believe it. She needs a lot of reassurance, but so long as you’re patient and understanding of her anxiety, she will get better. Once she realizes she can channel her nervous energy into projects, she absolutely thrives. She draws up designs for the nursery, scrutinizes piles of fabric swatches (babies go through A Ton Of Clothes, good on her for starting early), plans the birth down to the very last detail, and with each project she finishes, she grows a bit more confident in herself, a bit more confident that everything’s gonna work out, so long as she has you.

Julian

it takes a minute for the news to sink in. Julian is a doctor, so he Should know a thing or two about the signs of pregnancy, and he really Should have seen this coming, but… well, denial is a hell of a drug. Not that he was doing it on purpose; he’s just very good at being oblivious at the worst of times. He was so caught up in You, so distracted by the brilliant beauty of your relationship that he forgot actions have consequences.

after the initial shock fades, he falls face first into Panic. What is he panicking over? Everything. Every little thing. He panics because the pregnancy was unplanned, so he never got the chance to put together a prenatal care plan. He panics because he has less than nine months to put together a birthing plan, as if it’s really going to take that long to figure out. He panics because babies need stability and routine and he doesn’t know if he’s ready to settle down yet, and even if he is, he has no idea Where he wants to settle down. He panics because this is a big responsibility all of a sudden and he’s not confident in his ability to handle it. In fact, he’s certain he’s gonna fuck it up somehow, so he spends a lot of time panicking over that.

you’d think his medical knowledge would be a blessing at a time like this, but it’s really more of a curse. Sure, he knows some good remedies for morning sickness, but he also knows everything that could potentially go wrong at every stage of pregnancy, which means he’s going to go into a frenzy every time an unusual symptom pops up. You’re going to have to be the voice of reason here, and it’s not gonna be easy because he Will argue with you, but it’s just because he’s scared. Talk to him about that fear. He’ll calm down some once you get him to talk about it.

underneath all the anxiety, though, he’s so fucking excited for this baby. He’s so excited to be a dad, even if he doesn’t think he’ll be good at it, because he gets to raise this baby with You. He is so excited he gets to start a family with You. The first one isn’t even done cooking before he suggests a second — maybe even a third, somewhere down the road in the nebulous future he always struggled to picture while he was on his own, a future that now erupts into full color before him every time he closes his eyes.

Muriel

based on the way his face contorts in abject horror, you might think Muriel is unhappy with the news, but he’s not so much Unhappy as he is Overwhelmed With Dread. While he’s come a long way from viewing himself as an irredeemable monster, he’s still not completely convinced that whatever spawn he ends up producing won’t be the Vesuvian equivalent of the anti-Christ, either as cosmic punishment for his “sins” or because someone he faced in the coliseum cast a curse upon his firstborn (which, knowing this city, isn’t statistically improbable).

give him the space to talk and he’ll eventually spill everything that’s worrying him. He’ll try to apologize for letting this happen, saying he understands if you don’t wanna take the chance, and when you tell him it’s not like that, not at all, he’s caught almost comically off-guard by the idea that you may actually Want to have a kid with him. You’re gonna have to explain why, because he doesn’t get it. Living with him, supporting him, loving him, that’s all one thing, but having a baby with him? And then Raising that baby together? He’s gonna ask you if you’re sure just about every day for the first two or three months.

as I’m sure we all expect, he doesn’t think he’s gonna be a very good dad. He claims he has no natural instinct when it comes to children and childrearing. If you bring up the chickens, he’ll say it’s not the same at all, in fact it’s ridiculous to compare chickens to human kids, but you can tell from the way he pouts that he knows you have a point. He’s just so sure he’s gonna do something to fuck this kid up big time. It doesn’t even cross his mind that he might be able to give this baby everything he didn’t have growing up, not until you suggest it. He seems to chew on the idea for a very long time.

following that, he’s still anxious, very anxious, about everything that could go wrong, ranging from the baby being born with goat horns to the two of you dying before they can understand what happened to their parents, but he’s more willing to challenge his intrusive thoughts and be proactive. You work together to make a contingency plan for the kid, ensuring they’ll have a happy, healthy life no matter what happens. Muriel goes out of his way to interact with kids and babies so he’s more comfortable with them (and less afraid of hurting them accidentally), and one day he’s startled by the realization that he actually, maybe, sort of, kind of, against all odds… enjoys spending time with them. The well-behaved ones, at least.

the more ready he feels, the more relaxed he becomes. His regular brand of affection takes on an even more doting, protective quality. When he’s not spoiling you with hugs and kisses, you can usually find him working on the baby’s crib and/or mobile, which he’s decided to design and carve himself. Sometimes you catch him lost in thought, smiling at you softly for seemingly no reason. If you ask him about it, he’ll deny ever making such an expression, then eventually admit he’s glad you didn’t let him give up on the baby. His anxiety warned him of the potential bad, but it also prevented him from seeing the potential good, like how he can share the stories of his people with a new generation. If not for you, there’s so much he’d go without, not even realizing how much he’s missing. That’s why he smiles at you — after everything he went through, you gave him a new life.

Portia

a gasp escapes her lips as tiny tears of joy twinkle in the corners of her eyes. Portia was the first to notice and recognize the early signs, so she’s really not surprised — she’s Beyond Delighted. She’s so Ecstatic she can barely contain herself, hugging you, then the doctor, then you again, whispering in your ear that she can’t wait to have a baby with her favorite person in the whole world.

she’s so excited to tell everybody the news, she’s practically bouncing off the walls. At first she wants to tell as many people she can as fast as she can, but then an idea strikes her: why not make an event of it? All the most important people should find out first, so why not invite them over for dinner and make the announcement then? She starts planning right away, asking your opinion on the menu and decorations. The whole thing turns into more of an ordeal than you expected, but even so, Portia (with your help of course) executes it flawlessly. The dinner is delicious, the ambience is impeccable, and at the end of the meal every guest gets a pastry in the shape of a rattle. Portia glows as she makes the announcement. Julian cheers and sobs. It’s perfect.

good luck getting Portia to sit down now, though. There’s so much she wants to do before the baby arrives. For instance, she thinks the whole cottage oughta be cleaned out and reorganized. Kids are very good at getting into things they shouldn’t, and if this kid is anything like her, they’re going to get into Everything, so it’s a good idea to take inventory sooner rather than later. Oh, and speaking of inventory, you two are gonna need to stock up on some baby essentials. Portia is more than happy to take the lead on this. She could spend all day prowling the market for toys and clothes and other supplies, nearly weeping when she finds especially adorable things, like tiny booties embroidered with cat beans on the bottom.

while the days are busy, the evenings are sweet and slow. You take this time to have serious discussions in less-than-serious ways, usually between soft kisses. Portia wants to show the baby the world. She spent so much of her life knowing only one place, she wants to give her child the chance to experience more. That being said, there’s no reason to take trips with an infant who doesn’t know what’s going on and won’t remember. She suggests staying in Vesuvia for the first few years, and after that you can play it by ear, see where the road takes you. To be honest, she doesn’t much care Where she ends up, so long as you and baby will be by her side the whole way.

Lucio

ew gross

the idea of this man procreating makes me sick to my stomach so he doesn’t get any headcanons

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana asra #the arcana muriel #the arcana nadia #the arcana julian #the arcana portia #im not even gonna tag lucio anymore #this is an anti-goatman blog #also muriel gets more than everyone else because #Big Man Leetle Baby Very Good #makes dopamine machine go brrrrrrrrrrr #i swear I don’t want kids but imagining that man holding a very small human gives me baby fever

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thewordworrier · 2 years ago

Text

I Mean This - I’m Okay

Word Count: 6k and change. Notes: ~ Title from: I’m Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance [obviously] ~ Yup, Shelly’s still Tour Manager. That’s her job! ~ This is my second Reader attempt. This one was a little easier! ~ Still not an easy thing to write, these definitely come out slower than other stuff I write, so please, continue to be a bit gentle with me. ~ I’m pretty sure this is gender neutral, and reasonably vague on age, but you can assume that Reader is old enough to maybe travel alone? I don’t think it really matters too much there. ~ I’m not sure if I’ll put this one on AO3 either.

- - - - -

Setting: The Black Parade Tour - possibly before ProRev - I think. Your day was dragging, and nothing overly interesting had happened. This was normal. Everything was normal. Until you started to make your way home that is. As soon as you found yourself a seat on the bus home, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. The amount of notifications on the screen made you nearly drop it. You never had that many notifications; what on earth was going on? You spent a few minutes combing through the mentions, you managed to finally get to your inbox, where there was at least one new message waiting for you. Before you had the chance to investigate it though, your bus reached your stop and you had to finish making your way home. After a quick stop at the nearby grocery store for something quick for dinner and, because the day had been a bit sucky, a little sweet treat for yourself. And maybe a savoury one too. It had been A Day. After changing into something comfier, you decided to sit and relax for a little bit before starting some dinner. You settled on your couch with a drink and your savoury snack before pulling out your phone to finally check your social media inboxes. What you saw actually made you drop your phone in your lap. Thank god for your habit of always sitting with a pillow or blanket on your legs, because that meant that you didn’t have to move much to scoop the device up again. There was a message in your inbox from the official My Chemical Romance account. “What the…?” You muttered, tapping the message to open it. Hi there! We’re reaching out to you to let you know that you won the last competition - we’d like to upgrade your concert ticket to the meet and greet package! “Holy balls!” If you could reply to this message with the best way to contact you; an email address would be good to start with, we can go from there and we can make sure you have all the details you’re going to need! You were pretty sure that you had never replied to a message so quickly in your life. You replied with a quick; Oh my god, really? That’s amazing! Thank you so much! before sending across your email address as well. Once that message was sent, you put your phone on the arm of the couch before sinking into your spot, staring at the tv but not really taking anything in. Not too long later, your phone sounded loudly with a notification, making you jump before you groped for it, seeing that you had a reply. Awesome, thank you. I’ll gather the information and email you back; I’ll message you on here once the email’s been sent so you know to look out for it. Congratulations again! Truthfully, you were a little floored. You didn’t even really remember entering the competition, but you guessed that you had? The message was coming from the official band account after all? You didn’t think that it had been hacked so this can’t have been a hoax… It probably wasn’t from the band themselves - they all had their own social media; they probably had someone who ran that account for them. Of course. There was no way you were actually conversing with the guys themselves. Just as you’d thought that, something made you frown, and you double checked the messages from the account. Yeah, they’d switched from using “we” to “I” - as you expected, someone else was running the account. You weren’t surprised - the guys were busy after all. They were true to their word - not too long later, maybe half an hour at most, your phone pinged with a social media direct message alert. Hey, just letting you know that I sent that email across. You can either shoot me a message here to let me know it arrived or just reply to it. A quick swipe and tap later, and you were looking at the email in question. You shifted in your spot on your couch to sit up a bit better so you could concentrate on reading it properly.The email started with a simple introduction of; “Hi, I’m Shelly Sketcher, and I work with MyChem, and that includes maintaining the main band social media accounts, so it was me that you were talking to via DMs.” You were familiar with that name, quite a few people in the online fanspaces that you frequented were too. She’d been working with the band for long enough now, and the guys would frequently sing her praises during interviews. The online fanspaces seemed to like her - she did her best to get the band more time with their fans, or to get the gifts from the fans to the band, and most people appreciated that. Of course there were always one or two who didn’t but… That was to be expected. You just hoped that she didn’t have to see some of the utterly vile and nasty stuff that you had seen about her. Or, if she had seen it, you hoped it didn’t get her down too badly. You emailed her back, and sent her a direct message on the band’s social media to let her know that you’d received her email and sent a reply. She said to let her know if you had any questions - either via email or a direct message; she’d reply to either as soon as she could - she’d have notifications on as the whole thing was a little bit time sensitive. After sending her one more message, thanking her and letting her know that you’d let her know if you had any more questions, you sat on your couch, staring at the first message in your social media inbox. Truthfully, you were still in a little bit of a state of shock. It had taken you a bit of effort to get the ticket you had managed to get, and you had been incredibly grateful to finally get your hands on the one you did, even if it had been one of the cheaper ones. But now you were being bumped up to the freakin’ meet and greet package? Unbelievable. You spent the time between getting the messages and the date of your show, in a little bit of a daze, to be honest. You just couldn’t believe it. You were going to meet your favourite band. Nothing felt like it could touch you during that time; not even events during your everyday life that normally would have ruined your day, or at the very least your mood, had much of an effect on you. You were going to meet your favourite band. Like, what? What did you do to get so lucky? How? How was this your life? You just couldn’t make it up. ~ ~ ~ You arrived at the venue early, like it had been suggested, although you would’ve done that anyway. Nervously, you approached one of the venue’s staff. You knew that they were working the gig because they were wearing an MCR t-shirt, and they had a lanyard. They looked the part. She greeted you with a friendly smile and listened as you explained what you were there for. When you mentioned that you were a competition winner her expression brightened and she beckoned you to follow her. She led you through another set of doors before you had to go through the security procedure of having your bag checked. Once that was done, she gently pulled you aside and let you sit down. “I just need to make a quick call, okay? I’ll be right back.” She waited for you to nod before taking a phone out of her pocket and moving down the corridor a little. You were starting to feel a little anxious, like maybe you’d done something wrong? But you’d followed the email’s instructions… It was probably fine, it was probably just nerves. You were (hopefully!) about to meet your favourite band after all. The sound of heels on the flooring made you look up from your phone a little while later. The member of staff had returned, with a familiar looking, well dressed blonde in tow. They got close enough before the staff member said something to the other woman and got a nod in reply before heading off. The blonde turned back to you and smiled, holding out her hand when she got close enough. “Hi! I’m Shelly and I work with MyChem. You must be the competition winner I’ve been messaging?.” You felt your shoulders untense a little - she was who you thought she was and that meant that this whole thing was legit and not some elaborate prank. You hesitated for a second before taking her hand and shaking it, introducing yourself. “I’m so pleased to meet you, and that you got here okay,” Shelly said with a bright smile. “Pleased to meet you too,” you managed with a smile in return. “You do an excellent job and the fan base is very lucky to have you look out for the guys, and us, the way that you do.” She beamed and went a pale shade of pink. “I… Ah, that’s very nice for you to say, but I’m just doing my job.” “Yeah, but!” You protested. “Not every band has an assistant manager like you; I’ve been to other bands’ concerts and there’s never anyone running around to gather things from the fans like you do.” Shelly shook her head slightly, clearly not really believing you. “You’re very sweet.” “It’s true though.” “Mm, maybe,” she cleared her throat quietly and hummed for a moment as she pulled out her phone. She tapped at it before reading something and sliding the device back into her pocket. “Okay, right! So, the first thing is grabbing you some merch! Have you had the chance to see the merch stand yet?” “I…” You had actually forgotten that part of the upgrade included some free merch. “No, I haven’t. I was a little nervous about getting here and making sure that people knew that I was here.” Shelly nodded sympathetically. “I get that, I still get a bit nervous about being late or getting lost.” “You do?” “Sure I do,” she smiled and gestured for you to follow her. “Then again, I have to be very careful, as if I mess up with times, I could make the whole band late. But I’m like that in my personal life too, not just for my job.” “Oh,” you followed her to the merch stand, a little amused and amazed at how quickly and easily she moved through the building and through the manned doors. Then again, she was with the band; that was the ultimate VIP pass. You stayed close to her as you arrived at the merch stand, but you stood aside a little as she conversed with the people manning it. As to be expected, she was polite and everyone was really friendly with each other, but that was to be expected when the tour had been going this long. You were pretty certain that it was the same merch team. “Okay,” she turned back to you before gesturing to the stand. “Pick your poison.” You hesitated, wanting to ask a question but not quite sure how to. Luckily, she found the words for you. “Whatever you like, no real limit but try not to go too insane.” She grinned at you. “Insane would be like, one of everything.” “I, ah, wouldn’t do that, really…” “Some people might try it,” Shelly shrugged gently before pulling out her phone to give you some time. You took a few minutes to cast your eyes over the selection before picking out a couple of things - a shirt with the dates on it was the main thing you wanted, but you picked a couple of other, little things too. Once the guy behind the stand handed those over to you, you decided to use the money you’d set aside specifically for merch to actually purchase a few extra things. “Miss Shelly,” the merch girl called. “They wanna buy things too.” Shelly looked up from her phone before taking a few steps forward to stand next to you. “What did you pick as part of the upgrade?” You hesitated before opening the bag to show her, watching her nod and smile. “Hey, good choices.” “I don’t mind spending money,” you reasoned. “I have been saving for this since I got my ticket. I never expected to win the upgrade and I forgot that the upgrade included merch, so I’m really not against spending money.” “And, if I may,” the blonde continued. “What are you interested in purchasing?” You hesitated before pointing out a couple of extra things you liked before watching her out of the corner of your eye. She looked between the items before nodding. “Okay, but you’re getting a discount. We take care of our VIPs.” “I… I can’t ask you to do that,” you tried to protest as she gathered together the things you wanted to buy. “You’re not asking,” she double checked the size labels before giving the things to you. “Are these right?” You checked too. “Yes, thank you, but I -” “You’re getting a discount,” she said, her voice taking on a sing-song tone as she smiled. “And there’s nothing you can do about that.” You tried once more to protest, but she wasn’t having any of it, and neither were the merch staff, so you sighed and accepted your fate. Once that was all taken care of, you followed the blonde back through the doors, thanking her profusely along the way. “Honestly,” she said after using your name to interrupt you. “It’s really not a big deal. You didn’t try to take advantage, and I admire that.” “I… Oh. Um… Thank you?” “Don’t mention it.” She led you down another corridor before speaking again. “Did you bring anything for the guys to sign?” “Er actually, yeah, I did.” “That’s great; they’ll be more than happy to do that,” she stopped outside a door, and before knocking, she turned to look at you. “You okay?” You shook your head. “No, I’m a little bit nervous.” “Hey,” she said, turning her whole body to face you. “It’s alright, I promise! They’re not that scary! They’re really just a bunch of nerds!” This made you laugh and honestly, it did help a little bit. “And I say that with the most love possible,” she giggled as you laughed. “But they really are.” You grinned at her before exhaling deeply. “I know you’re right. But I’m still a little nervous.” Shelly nodded. “I know you are, I get it. Meeting them is a big deal to a lot of people. And that’s okay, they understand.” You exhaled again and she smiled gently at you. She was waiting patiently but you didn’t feel rushed at all; she just didn’t have that air to her. “I think…” You started carefully. “I think I’m ready.” “Awesome.” You watched her move to knock on the door; her knock was almost tuneful, and you were willing to bet that her knock stood out against any others. She waited a second before opening the door enough to stick her head around it. She must’ve said something and gotten a reply because you heard her laugh before she opened the door properly before turning to you and gesturing for you to follow her. She closed the door behind the pair of you before clearing her throat to get the attention of the band. Holy balls, you thought, this is actually happening. You listened to her introduce you to them, which you were grateful for because you had suddenly lost your voice. “I don’t think I need to tell you their names,” Shelly said with a slight grin as each member shook your hand. “Thi- Think,” you swallowed as your voice came out as a bit of a squeak. “Think we’re good on that one.” Frank laughed and Shelly gestured for you to sit down as the guys did. Once everyone had settled, Shelly trotted around the room while the band asked you questions - how far you’d travelled to get there, how your trip was, had you seen them before; questions like that. You managed to answer them well enough, still feeling a little bit nervous but starting to feel a bit more relaxed. There was a pause in conversation as Shelly came back over to put some markers, Sharpies, on the table. You noticed that Gerard watched her a bit more closely when she returned, smiling and speaking softly to her when she was near enough. She smiled at him before clearing her throat softly. “Hey,” she said to them. “You guys wanna sign some stuff?” “Sure thing,” Mikey reached for one of the markers before the others copied him. “I like seeing what fans bring for us to sign, to be honest,” Frank added. At these words you pulled your bag onto your lap to go through it. “Um, hang on a minute…” Eventually you pulled out your item of choice as well as a small notebook, both of which you passed to the blonde who had moved to stand by you. “It sounds strange, but can you each maybe sign a page in here as well, please?” “Of course,” Gerard gently took both items from Shelly when she passed them to him before uncapping the pen and holding the lid in between his teeth, passing the first item around after he’d signed it. “I’m sure you’ve got your reasons.” “Is it something arty?” Ray asked, looking from where Mikey was signing one of the two items over to you. “A lot of our fans are very artistic.” “There’s a lot of talent in the fanbase,” Shelly agreed. “I… Um, kinda.” “If you ever share it online,” Shelly lightly slapped Frank around the back of the head for a reason you didn’t catch. “You’ll have to share it with us. I’m sure whatever you’re planning will turn out great.” “I hope it does, maybe I will share it,” you nodded once, taking the items from her as she handed them back over. “Thank you so much.” “You’re more than welcome,” Frank grinned over at you. You felt like you might be blushing so you focused on putting your things back in your bag until Ray started asking you a little more about yourself; what you did for work, what your hobbies were. Normally, talking about yourself made you feel awkward, but he (and the rest of the band) seemed so genuinely interested that you found yourself not really minding. When they ran out of questions and you’d run out of steam, a few minutes of silence followed before Shelly cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “How about we get some pictures?” She said before turning to you. “I can take them on your phone, if you like? Or I can take them with my phone and send them to you via social media?” You hesitated. “Either is honestly fine,” Shelly continued. “I promise.” “Ah, um…” You pulled your phone out of your pocket before unlocking it and, after a second, shyly handed it over to her. The blonde smiled and took it, checking it over. “Go over with me how to use it really quickly?” You obliged, and when you were close enough to her, Shelly whispered to you. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great.” “I am? I’m not awkward?” She shook her head and took a test photo of the pair of you before she showed you. “How’s that?” “Great, actually. That’s a great shot.” “You can delete that later if you want,” she gestured for you to go and post with the guys. “I won’t be offended. If you share these online, make sure you tag the accounts and we’ll reshare them too. If you’re okay with that.” You nodded to her and she took some photos of you with the band, letting you see them to make sure that you were happy. “If you’re not happy, I am more than willing to take more,” she said quietly to you. “I just want you to have a good experience, and bad photos are not a good keepsake.” “I don’t want to put the guys through -” “They won’t mind,” she grinned at you. “I won’t let them. Don’t worry.” “You…” You shook your head at her. “You’re too sweet.” “That’s part of my job honey. I’m like a liaison between the fans and the band as well as an assistant to,” she waved towards the guys. “The Lords over there.” The slightly posh accent she added made you laugh and she shooed you over to take a few more pictures. When that was over and everyone had settled back down, you put your bag back across your body - it was like a security thing. “You… Look like you want to say something else?” Mikey piped up. “Um… I…” You swallowed, hesitating. Well, he wasn’t wrong but… You were pretty sure that they’d heard everything you wanted to say before, and would probably hear it all over again. And again. But you knew that you’d regret it immensely if you didn’t say it. “I… Um…” You swallowed and clutched the cross-body strap of your bag, glancing down at your lap. “It’s okay,” Gerard said gently from opposite you.”Take a moment.” You felt like you’d rehearsed this about a thousand times - exactly what you’d say if you ever met them, but now you were actually here, your tongue was tied up in knots. The cushion next to you on the couch moved and you looked up to see their blonde assistant sitting beside you, placing a cup of water in front of you. She smiled softly. “Sorry,” you stammered. “I just…” “It’s okay,” she repeated softly. “Really. Hey, ignore them for a second -” “Hey!” Frank said. “Shut up Frank,” Ray rolled his eyes, throwing a balled up piece of paper at the short guitarist. Shelly eyed them, shook her head before turning her attention back to you, taking your hand. It was only when she squeezed it gently that you realised that you were shaking. “Talk to me. Tell me what it means to you.” You noticed that her nails were neatly French manicured using a shade of pink polish that reminded you very much of cotton candy. And you only picked up on this because you were quite focused on the way she was holding your hand; the gentle squeezing was really calming actually. “I… Okay.” You noticed her smile before taking a small breath, giving yourself time to try and get the words straight in your head. Once you were… Happy enough you nodded slightly and started talking. You managed to talk about how much the music meant to you, how beautiful you thought the lyrics were, how masterful the guitar and base notes were and how harmonious everything sounded together; how obvious it was that the other three were such masters of their instruments. You managed to get out much you loved all three albums, all for different reasons; the rawness of Bullets, the emotion of Revenge and the creativity of Parade. This made Gerard smile brightly; he always loved it when other people recognised just how amazing the rest of the band were at playing their parts. You took a breath, and a sip of the water that you’d been given before managing to talk about how strong you thought they were because they’d all battled their own demons and come out the other side, and just how inspiring that was - not just to you but to so many other people. As well as it being especially inspiring for the fact that they always seemed to want to fight for the underdog; that they wanted to give a voice to those who felt like they didn’t have one. Including yourself - you had your own struggles that their music had helped you through; it made you feel less alone. You managed to speak without stuttering and that made you think that maybe Shelly had been right - it had been much easier to talk to her (or maybe that should be at her…) than to talk to the band themselves. Even though you knew they were listening, it had been much easier to focus your attention on someone other than them. “You’re alright now?” Gerard asked when you took a moment to breathe. “You mentioned your own struggles? Are you okay now?” You nodded. “Much better, I’m doing pretty good, actually. There’s obviously still a few bad days, but coping with them is easier.” Gerard nodded and smiled a little. “Good.” “I know you’ve probably heard all of that before,” you said quietly, managing to look over at them. “But -” “We never get tired of it,” Ray said gently with a shake of his head. “It’s kinda amazing how many people feel the same way about our music.” “And about us,” Mikey added. “It’s incredible that four nerdy guys from New Jersey have had such an effect - a positive one, on so many people.” “You have done since the first record,” you said. “And I think you will until you call it quits.” “And even then,” Shelly added. “As long as your music is available, you’ll keep being that inspiring to anyone who listens to you.” “Yeah!” You nodded enthusiastically at the blonde’s words. “Exactly that.” Frank almost giggled and Gerard cleared his throat softly before speaking. “Ray’s right, we don’t get tired of hearing it. I think sometimes we still can’t believe that people feel that way about us,” he looked at the others for confirmation, getting nods in response. “I keep telling them that they really need to get used to it,” Shelly shrugged once with a smile. “But they don’t listen to me.” “Well, they should, because you’re absolutely right.” Shelly looked at the band and gestured to you. “See?” The guys laughed and that made you smile. “But thank you,” you managed. “For letting me get that out, even if it’s not the first time you’ve heard it.” “It would be rude not to let you speak,” Frank said with a small nod. “We appreciate the fans, we appreciate you, for appreciating us.” You nodded slowly and it was as if a lightbulb flickered on above your head. You turned your attention to the blonde still sitting next to you, which seemed to surprise her as she tilted her head. “I just wanna say again,” you started quietly. “We appreciate you, too. So many of us do, for what you do for them,” you gestured to the guys a little. “For what you do for us as fans, for the running around you do to get our stuff to them, for interacting with us, for everything.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Gerard lean forward, his forearms on his legs, as he focused his attention on the woman next to you. This made you remember that there had been some rumours rumbling around about there being a relationship between the two of them, but there hadn’t been anything officially said by anyone from the band, or from either of the pair directly. Their behaviour in front of you didn’t sway the arguments either way, really. It wasn’t really anyone’s business, you thought, but it was something the online fanspaces debated every so often. (Privately, your opinion was that they might be cute together.) Shelly, meanwhile, was looking at you with a very… Soft but surprised expression on her face. When she started to speak, her voice broke a tiny bit - she had to stop and clear her throat before trying again. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “That means a lot to me. Because I do work very hard, I do try and get you guys the most time with them.” “We’re nothing without our fans,” Ray added. You noticed the others nod. “We’re also not much without her,” Frank nodded to Shelly with a grin. “I mean, she’s the reason we eat and she’s why we’re on time and all of that.” “Behind every herd of cats is a woman rolling her eyes while she attempts to wrangle them to get them to behave,” Shelly muttered. You laughed. “You do an excellent job.” She smiled brightly. “Thank you.” “See? Mikey said with a small grin. “Not just us that say so.” “Shush you.” You joined the guys with a quiet chuckle before Gerard cleared his throat. “So, what’s your favourite song? We like to shout out one to our VIPs if we can.” A part of you had expected this question, and you really had truly thought about it. It was a difficult one to answer. “Um, that’s tricky. I feel like every time I think about it, I have a different answer, um…” “Way to put them on the spot,” Shelly rolled her eyes a little but she was smiling so it was clear that she wasn’t mad or anything. “Give them a minute.” You smiled at her gratefully before continuing to answer Gerard’s question, also managing to give them all a reason without waxing lyrical for too long. The band listened intently, nodding a little. “Well,” you said, after taking a moment. “It’s either that one or Disenchanted, really.” Mikey fist-pumped and the others groaned playfully. “See?” He said. “I told you it was a good idea to put it on the album!” Frank rolled his eyes and Gerard shook his head. “I’m not the only one who thinks so!” You added hastily. “No, you’re not,” Shelly added. “It’s a fan favourite, and one of mine too.” “Because you’re a woman of good taste, clearly.” Shelly grinned at you. “Thank you.” You chatted with the band for a little bit longer before it was time for them to start getting ready for the show, so you said goodbye, getting hugs as well, much to your delight, before Shelly led you out of the room. “You alright?” She asked gently as you both made your way down the corridor. You exhaled loudly and nodded. “Y- yeah, I think so.” “It might not sink in for a little bit,” she said with a nod. “And when it does, it’ll be a really inappropriate time.” “That sounds about right.” She laughed quietly. “Right, I think maybe you’re in the higher tier, closer to the stage area with the others who paid for those tickets but not the VIP thing, let me check…” You watched her pull her phone out to double check the details. “Mm hm, you are, which is good as your bag and everything will be safe there too, but if you weren’t I would’ve figured something out about keeping your things safe…” “That’s very sweet of you.” Shelly just smiled and took you to get a drink first - not that she let you pay for either of them, because she made you get a bottle of water alongside the other drink of your choice. Then she led you to where you’d be watching the show from. There were a few people there already, which surprised you, but it was actually a bit later than you thought it was. One of the other fans there called Shelly’s name before making their way over to her. They chatted quietly for a moment before the fan handed Shelly something; they must’ve been asking her to pass it onto the band, which Shelly obviously agreed to do before the fan smiled, got a hug from the blonde and went back to their spot. Shelly turned back to you and shook her head slightly. “Sorry about that, are you all good?” “Yeah, I get it, you’re still working after all,” you nodded. “I’m good, thank you so much for everything.” Shelly brushed it off a little. “Oh, psh, you’ve been a delight! I’ll be about during the show, I always am, so if you need anything, there’ll be a security guard nearby - get his attention and he’ll get me. Don’t be afraid to do that, the security is here to help, and so am I.” You nodded and offered her a hug, which she accepted. “Thank you, again,” you said to her as she hugged you back. “So, so very much.” “You are so welcome,” she squeezed you gently before taking a step back. “I have to get back to the boys. Have a great time during the show, in case you don’t need me for anything. And please, let me know that you get home okay?” “Oh, sure I can do that,” you nodded, touched at her concern. “Message the main band account,” Shelly said. “I’ll get that.” “Okay, I’ll do that, promise.” “Good, I’m glad,” she checked her phone again and winced. “Okay, I really gotta get back to the guys. Have a great time, remember that security is here to help, okay?” “Yes ma’am,” you mock-saluted and grinned as she narrowed her eyes at you a little - but she was smiling so she wasn’t mad. “Thank you, so much, again.” “You’re so welcome,” Shelly smiled at you and waved to another fan further down the section before going to grab something from them. She waved to you and headed off in the other direction to return to the dressing rooms. Naturally, the support act was amazing - but that wasn’t really much of a surprise as MyChem’s support acts always seemed to pair well with the main band themselves. Then the main event happened; the lights went down, the curtain at the back dropped to reveal the staging and… Boom. The cheers were almost deafening as the guys came on stage and only got louder as the first notes played. Much like Gerard had, not promised per se but had said, you got a bit of a shout out for your favourite song. And he stopped just before Disenchanted to make a comment about “well, we’ve been told by almost everyone else that putting this next one on the album was a good idea. Everyone say thank you Mikey Way.” And the crowd echoed back; “Thank you Mikey!” MyChem were incredible obviously. They always were. And major props to the lighting techs, who properly spotlighted each of the guys at the best times; Ray during the opening of Disenchanted for example, Frank during his best solos (you swore he winked at you during one of those and you’d put good money on the fact that you probably blushed). The show must’ve gone relatively smoothly because you didn’t see the Tour Manager come down to help out with anything, until the encore started. That’s when she appeared down in front of that first barrier. She stopped to check in with you, squeezing your hand before heading down the line to check in with the security guards. The encore finished, the band took a bow and Gerard told the crowd to get home safe before they left the stage, the lights coming on not long later. You decided to wait a few minutes to let some of the people behind you head out first before heading outside yourself. When you got home, you sent the band’s official account a quick message, like you promised and then decided to upload some photos from the evening; just one or two for now. One of you and the whole band, the slightly silly selfie you’d taken with Shelly and one or two you’d taken while the band were performing. You tapped your chin for a moment before typing out a caption, making sure to tag any appropriate accounts; Best night of my life! Massive thank you to not only the guys but also Shelly for taking care of me and giving me this amazing opportunity. I'll never be the same after tonight and I am very much okay with that - I promise!

#She Speaks #She Talks Writing #my writing #fanfic #Reader fanfic #MCR fanfic #October 2022 #General fanfic - not romantic #gender neutral reader

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amimimi · 4 years ago

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Hi it's actually my first time requesting 💀 can you do like the reader is a volleyball player from a different school who came to their school to compete and is hella intimidating cause they're really quiet and doesn't really smile that often and their team won. Maybe do yamaguchi, tsuki, tendou, bokuto and suna?

I'm sorry if it's messy i get nervous cause it's my first time requesting 😭✋

hey angel! thank you for sending this in!! And don’t worry, this wasn’t messy at all!

also, i didn’t know if you meant reader’s team played the guys’ teams so i’m sorry if i misunderstood!

the strong, silent type; yamaguchi, tsukishima, tendou, bokuto, suna

synopsis: in which you somehow manage to catch a certain someone’s attention without having to say a word (well, barely a word)

pairings: yamaguchi x reader, tsukishima x reader, tendou x reader, bokuto x reader, suna x reader

warnings: swearing

notes: this is my first haikyuu request!!

YAMAGUCHI

baby boy is intrigued to say the least

he’s also, you know, very intimidated

karasuno is hosting volleyball camp for the weekend so a few of schools from the area come over

karasuno lost a match so they go do a lap up the hill and back down

yamaguchi shakily walks back into the gym, panting and sweating profusely from the run

two other teams are playing so he decided to watch and catch his breath

it’s getting pretty intense until your team’s setter sets the ball for you

you run up and leap in the air, your brows furrowed with determination and tongue sticking slightly out, and you spike ball, slamming it to the opponents ground

and it’s slams so fucking loud

yamaguchi mouth drops, impressed by your raw power

by then tsukishima has joined him, standing alongside yamaguchi

“sheesh” tsukishima mutters at how hard you struck the ball

meanwhile, yamaguchi’s jaw is still on the floor as he watches you with sparkles in his eyes

your teammates erupt in cheer while you’re just like 😐👍

yamaguchi tells tsukishima that they should congratulate your team (he’s talking about you mostly)

and tsuki is like “okay have fun doing that!”

and yamaguchi is like “w-wait! please go with me? they’re scary 🥺”

and tsukishima is like “this is so stupid...” but he ends up going with yamaguchi nskdicnwiwjs

you’re drinking from your water bottle when you feel a slight tap on your shoulder

you whirl around to see tsukishima and yamaguchi LITERALLY standing like—

⠀ ⠀ ⠀(\__/)

(•ㅅ•)

　＿ノヽノ＼＿

`/　`/ ⌒Ｙ⌒ Ｙ　ヽ

( 　(三ヽ人　 /　　 |

|　ﾉ⌒＼￣￣ヽ　ノ

ヽ＿＿＿＞､＿＿_／

　　｜( 王ﾉ〈 (\__/)

　　 /ﾐ`ー―彡\(•ㅅ•)

　　/ ╰ ╯ \/ \>

yamaguchi pipes up from where he stands, slightly behind tsukishima

“that last spike you did was really cool!” he squeaks, mentally slapping himself for how he voice cracked on “cool”

you blink in surprise before you gently smile

and yamaguchi, in his head of course, is like “HOLY SH*T THEY SMILED??!&)&8:9:”

“thank you” you reply, “i don’t think you told me your name”

TSUKISHIMA

when i tell you this man is not FAZEDDDDD

like he does not give a shit how intimidating you are

he notices that you’re a great volleyball player and that you’re a great coordinator

but that’s where it ends

he’s not intrigued enough/doesn’t care about the motivations of other people

you both walk up to the lil fountain outside the gym to refill your water bottle at the same time

you both sorta halt, before tsukishima motions for you to go first

you nod and thank him quietly, moving to refill your water bottle

tsuki feels his eyebrows furrow when a loud yell suddenly splits the silence, already recognizing who that might be

he turns around and of course, it’s hinata yelping and dodging kageyama’s blows, while the latter yells profanities at hinata

tsukishima sees that you’ve turned around too, trying to see what was going on

“what a couple of morons...” tsukishima mutters to you

you blink at tsukishima, straight faced as ever, before saying, “you shouldn’t bad mouth your team mates”

MY BOY SIEZES UP SO F*CKIN QUICK DUCHDKDJD

he thought since you were quiet and serious looking, that you kinda hated everyone/were pessimistic

you thought WRONG

he turns back to you with raised eyebrows, a little surprised and slight embarrassed about being scorned

you just smile at him and tsuki is surprised for a second time

“see you inside” you nod politely and before walking past him

get rekt tsukishima

TENDOU

yes, my slightly odd looking yet handsome son

he is NOT intimidated by you—AT ALL (have you seen his bestie? 😭)

in fact, the first time tendou sees you, he watches you for like 17 seconds and is like “oh...oh i’m bout to ANNOY TF OUTTA OF THEM”

i feel like he just wants to single out serious people and f*ck around with them—all in good taste though!

will try and goad you into messing up from across the net

but you’re just like 😐😑😐

switches tactics by trying giving you odd compliments

“y/n, right? i like the curvature of your spine,,,very unique 😌”

or “you have such delicate earlobes, y/n!”

if anything, he’s annoying both his teammates and yours

but he’s not done

starts crooning these lil songs about you, that he’s making up on the spot

he’s still not throwing you off your game but you are glancing over at him with a strange expression on your face

that just encourages him even more

eventually, semi smacks the back of tendou’s neck and gives him the “stfu” look

tendou glances over to see your lips twitching into a smile and he’s just smiles real big and wide at you

BOKUTO

my precious boy

he’d probably see you, standing there off to the side from where your teammates are huddled

and he thinks “omg,,,they’re shy,,,and lonely,,,I HAVE TO HELP THEM!”

but you’re just zoning out or something, completely fine

bokuto is trying to collect introverts like they’re f*ckin pokemon cards

he thinks he’s good with all kinds of people (and he is!) but he thinks he’s especially good with quieter people

after your match, bokuto bounds up to you with akaashi trailing behind (he’s there for damage control mostly)

“hey there!” bokuto smiles and your eyes slightly widen at how his voice booms throughout the whole gym. “your team did amazing out there! i couldn’t believe how coordinated you all are! and the way that you flew? your spikes could use a bit more force but you’re amazing either way—”

you generally feel overwhelmed by hyperactive people, but you’re REALLY feeling it now

especially considering how tired you are after that match and how fast Bokuto is talking

you honestly can’t keep up with what he’s saying to you, his eyes glimmer are glimmering and his whole face is lit up and DAMN you don’t have the heart to interrupt him

so you just nod at him with wide eyes like “yup, mhm, yea, that’s right, of course”

when he finally finished his spiel, you take the opportunity to ask for his name

and you’re like “oh! yeah! you’re one of the top 3 aces in the nation right?”

bokuto’s grin widens even further, but before he can respond, akaashi cuts in with “top 5 actually”

and bokuto whirls around with a look that screams utter betrayal—like B*TCH!!&/8:73?

“that’s really impressive!” you smile and bokuto’s mouth drops because DID YOU JUST MAKE A FACIAL EXPRESSION???

he’s hyping himself up like “aha, didn’t even talk to them for FIVE minutes and i already cracked them 😤”

SUNA

he’s just gonna stare at you

like a creepy ass owl or something

he sees your minding your own business respectfully and he’s like “...this feels insulting”

he thinks that YOU think that you’re some tough ass b*tch

MF, I’M JUST MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS 😭

suna: they’re trying to intimidate us

ojiro: ...they’re just standing there

suna: you think they’re trying to intimidate us?

ojiro: no, i don’t actually—

suna: nah, they’re definitely trying to intimidate us

so suna tries to intimidate YOU—reverse uno that b*tch

will stare at you from across the court with his hands shoved in his shorts like—🧍‍♂️

it honestly is a little unsettling because you just see this tall ass, lanky figure in your peripheral vision and your turn to see this guy STARING AT YOU LIKE—👁‍🗨👄👁‍🗨

he scares your teammates too dkfjdkshs

if you’re team is playing his, he will forcefully block your spikes and then just stare back at you LIKE DAMN, YOU GOOD?

the whole thing lets up, when your teams go to shake hands

you take his hand in yours and give him a firm shake, genuinely smiling

“you play well!” you compliment

“...you do too” he says hesitantly and you nod slightly before letting go of his hand and going to shake Osamu’s

he tells ojiro later that you had a “firm grip” and ojiro’s like “...mhm 😒”

notes: i wanna write more haikyuu (specifically timeskip)! also not me projecting the odd feeling i have for suna where it’s like a cross of “everything about you annoys me” and “damn u kinda hot 🙄”. my love/hate relationship with aquarius men 😌

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #tsukishima x reader #yamaguchi x reader #bokuto x reader #tendou x reader #suna x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #tendou satori x reader #suna rinataro x reader

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racke7 · 7 years ago

Text

So I finally sat down and published that mod of mine that stopped Thieves from spawning randomly in Riften.

Whether you play the game or not, I had a lot of fun explaining what the mod did.

#my answer basically amounted to ''fuck if i know how i did it but it seems to work so cheers''#laughing #video games #skyrim #personal stuff #and really the fact that it requires dawnguard and hearthfire but not dragonborn?#like... did i have a plan in there somewhere? was that a tactical decision?#... actually it might be from before i had dragonborn... maybe. in which case it'd be old as balls #which doesn't actually sound all that implausible considering how very little i remember about making it #but still... fucking what mate? i had to look it up in TESV Edit just to see if i COULD see if it changed anything at all #and... it changes a bunch of random things with ''thief'' in the name - i think? but maybe that's calculated?#i don't have the faintest clue what the hell i was doing so it might very well have been #holy shit but i really ought to write down what the hell i DO when i work on mods #... and don't even get me started on my ''poor man's Haven Bag'' and the hearthfire planters that constantly duplicate shit #like... i couldn't manage to find anyone running into that bug other than myself?#so either i was screwing something up despite following instructions or something is weird with the Haven Bag spawning area #somehow... maybe... (it's probably on my end - though fuck if i know how)

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jiminrings · 4 years ago

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yoongi grills stem koo’s ass <3

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo wants to explain himself and yoongi may not want to listen

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

“the one that’s all knuckle?”

oh my god

IS THIS A RIDDLE????

yoongi tilts his head in amusement when this pathetic excuse for your past crush is calculating what he just said in his mind

what is a sandwich that’s all knuckle?? but it doesn’t even rhyme!!

aren’t riddles sUPPOSED to rhyme????

jungkook’s more than well-versed in stem-related problems that are just rephrased 237 times over and over so that it wouldn’t be as easy to solve

he can solve that!!!

but this!!! :O his mind is short-circuiting pls do not approach him

“hm?” yoongi’s smile patronizes him further and puts him on the spot, straightening his figure and jungkook’s quick to stop him from coming back inside your dorm

“i want to-“

“i asked you — have you ever had a knuckle sandwich?”

yoongi enunciates with so much clarity that kook finds his mind blanking, tripping over his words he hasn’t even formed yet

“i-is it-...” he stalls, trying to rack his mind for the bread he’s not sure he’s ever even heard of in his life, “i-is it like, a pork thing? uhm, t-the pig’s knuckle? and then you put it between, uhm, bread?”

,,,, laughable

jungkook’s supposed to be smart, isn’t he? or atleast that’s what yoongi thinks he’s supposed to be

lmao he would’ve laughed at the boy’s poor attempts if only he wasn’t furious at him

he’s dumb but not the endearing kind ://

“no,” yoongi drawls out, pretending to fish something out from his pocket

jungkook watches in intrigue, thinking that yoongi’s reaching for his phone to show him a picture of what it looks like

the hypothetical situation in jungkook’s mind is clearly not the one that happens

jungkook SHRIEKS as he stumbles on his heels backward — crystal clear to him that yoongi was not looking for his phone, but instead balling his fist and him being the receiving end

almost the receiving end

yoongi almost sucker-punches jungkook in a blink, fist literally a millimeter away from his nose and the only thing he could see at the moment is red

... red and jungkook’s wide eyes that have never carried this much fear up until now

“that’s a knuckle sandwich, kid. would’ve fed it to you if only y/n isn’t in the room right behind me.”

holy fuck

his heart is beating right against his ribcage and that shouldn’t be possible, fists closing upon themselves nervously as he tries to soothe his thumb so his mind relaxes

spoiler alert: it doesn’t work

jungkook’s mind is all over the place, even more rattled than it was when he takes a text without studying (he was so low he got a 98), but the only thing that’s clear is that you’re behind this door

“yoongi — mister yoongi, please. i-i need to explain myself, and if only you let me try, i can!! i swear. i’m not forcing you but-...”

there he is again

jungkook’s only been in his sight for like two minutes but his eyes are already sore

“why are you even here?” he scowls and even if the younger boy’s taller than him, every bit of his posture and demeanor at the bite of his words scream small, “why go all this length for someone you stomped on today, then have the gall to be a crybaby about it?”

he's speechless and it only serves him right, looking at his mudded-up converse and trying to focus on anything besides the guilt within

"m-my explanation," jungkook mutters, hands behind his back as if he's being scolded, “will you tell y/n?”

yoongi releases an agitated breath at him muttering your name

he dOESN'T get to say your name!! no!!! not after what he did to you

“i’m not concerned about you. what i decide to do or not, has nothing to do with whatever you say right now.”

kook solemnly nods, and even if yoongi's much harsher in your words compared to yours, the gravity of yours with him not being related to you cuts deeper

there's nothing else he could care about, actually

jungkook follows campus curfews to a T and would come home two hours earlier in the rare event that he goes somewhere

but now, he couldn't care less when the dorm master could just be there any second and he'd pass a hall monitor like usual

for the whole day, you were the only one that occupied his mind

"i know hyeji isn’t the one."

god, it was clear as day

he'll be the first one to admit that he can't read people very well, but he knew from the start that it's probably not hyeji who's been packing his lunchboxes

jungkook sometimes takes attendance in behalf of the professor because as much as he's shy, he's also a teacher's pet

the classes she shared with hyeji? she wasn't present everyday for the whole duration of two weeks, and how could it be that she still managed to make him a lunchbox if she wasn't present in the campus at all?

there was a probability that it could've been her, but it was so low that it sat right next to improbable

"i-i entertained the possibility briefly that she was, but then nothing was making sense the more i thought about it."

jungkook sometimes also checks papers because his professors trust him enough and he has perfect scores anyway, so he uses his own as his answer key

"i needed to interview y/n for an assignment, a-and a signature above a name was needed and it was just so familiar."

the moment he racks his head for hyeji's writing, it seemed fAR from the writing on the sticky notes on the lunchboxes

"then she seemed mad at me, but when i went to her on the field to try and confront her-" jungkook pauses and almost whispers the next part, the shame on his skin starting to seep into his bones, "she told me that we weren't related for me to feel hurt about it."

yoongi clenches his jaw, a pressure forming on the center of his eyebrows because he knows where this is leading

"a-and i thought it was hyeji again."

jungkook can't bring himself to be elated that it's been you the whole time because he might be a little too late; a little too late when he's already subjected you to the heartbreak you didn't deserve

"i-i didn’t know what clicked in my mind but i was just so hurt that-"

that's the fiNAL straw for yoongi

this has been him trying to keep his anger at bay the whole time, but this one!! this one he can't just accept

"you are a fucking asshole. honestly."

jungkook slightly winces with the sudden cussing, but it barely scratches the surface

"you think you’re the only one hurt? tell that to me who’s never seen y/n cry so hard before — or even cry at all."

his explanation wasn't an excuse and he knows it, but nonetheless, it tears him apart

"i’m sorry."

his lips quiver and he's trying sO hard not to cry in front of his senior, but yoongi doesn't feel even the slightest remorse for the kid

"i don’t care. you don’t apologize to me; you apologize to y/n. whether she forgives you or not, which for the record i don’t think she should, you cannot take back what you said."

if what jungkook said was eVER said to yoongi, given that he had the same circumstances as you did, he wouldn't know how to bounce back at all

it's a pain he doesn't wish to feel and he could only helplessly look at you who's trying to navigate it

perhaps you don't even plan to navigate it — knowing you, you're just gonna sail through it all to the point you're not giving yourself enough time to even realize that you already are

it was the same cycle of trying to move on without grieving through it properly that it hurts yoongi and seokjin and the tiny amount of people around you

"grovel at her feet. cry her an ocean. commit penitence. whatever you wanna come up with, no matter what, you do not make my y/n feel like she isn’t deserving of love."

you're family and yoongi goes above and beyond for family.

"i don’t care if you make up. i don’t care if you don’t. all i know is that in any other place besides outside the room she sleeps in, i’d hurt you like you hurt her."

jungkook almost wishes that yoongi punches him now and he won't even try to dodge it

"i deserve it."

"you do."

they whole-heartedly agree and it's the only time that yoongi can get behind jungkook's words

"i’m always gonna be on y/n’s side, kid."

there's no other way around it and as much as you know it or not, you've cemented your position in yoongi's heart unknowingly

"the only way that i’m gonna be on yours is when you’ve earned my utmost respect," he can't even see when that happens, crossing his arms across his chest, "and you don’t."

jungkook's tears are falling to the floor but they don't get on his cheeks, the sudden set of footsteps coming from his side making his head straighten and wipe his eyes immediately

he's the only one alarmed and he spares yoongi a glance, then to said person

yeah right that couldn't have been you :((

the guy who's approaching doesn't stop walking and he looks like.... he's uh,,, coming to where he's exactly standing????

he seems oddly familiar though

“oh, taehyung!"

where did he hear that name before??

taehyung stands at the same height as jungkook, maybe a centimeter or two taller, but he just couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of his eyes

yoongi's oblivious to jungkook's ongoing deduction, immediately engulfing taehyung in conversation

"y/n’s already asleep. i could do her part of the project-“

he offers because he recalls that right, you told him that taehyung's coming over to finish your shared project of a business plan late tonight

uhhhhh you're kinda zooted and going through it rOUGH so yoongi doesn't mind doing your contribution for you

“yoongi!! oh no man, it’s not what i came here for," he leans for a side hug, eyes landing on jungkook to drop a polite smile to acknowledge him

jungkook only slightly bows, confused but even more intrigued because he heard your name in the conversation

"i just uh, i just saw y/n crying while i was on my way home awhile ago, and i didn’t get to ask why, but i felt bad, so i came by to drop some cookies.”

taehyung continues talking and it leaves yoongi and jungkook stunned, but he only focuses his attention on the former

“you looked like a hazelnut cookie kind of guy, so i baked some too!! is y/n allergic to peanuts? i put some too in a separate container in case she is.”

yoongi laughs and they go from there

IT'S LIKE JUNGKOOK ISN'T EVEN HERE!!!!

baby he's here he's nOT a hallucination!!!!

despite the fact that he's sticking out like and (unacknowledged) sore thumb, no one makes a move to take the conversation elsewhere

“thanks, tae. damn, you did all this yourself?”

yoongi whistles when he takes the tupperware opening it and almost watering at the sight

he doesn't mind baking cookies for you in case you wake up hungry, but taehyung really just did himself a nice favor without knowing it

he smiles softly, eyes narrowing in intrigue now that he realizes

"taehyung. no offense, but you’ve only interacted with y/n like once and it’s only for a project. why would you bake her uhhh 28 cookies?”

hehe

“35, actually :D”

tae interjects, waving him off when yoongi's jaw drops even further

“yeah, i know. i just felt so sorry for her — i’m not related to y/n but i just felt like i wanted to make her feel better.”

jungkook's jaw locks at this, his breathing becoming shaky all over again, fists balled this time

“it’s like,, economics!! i don’t actually know, maybe??? i’m in visual arts. y/n took over my part for me when i was sick-“

".... so you made her 30 cookies."

taehyung's the personification of a golden retriever and now that he thinks about it, jungkook reckons seeing him more than a handful of times

he laughs deeply at yoongi's rebutt and it may be in unfortunate timing that jungkook realizes he kNOWS him

he's in the same year!! he's the one that takes the portraits for the school paper and it's always his name in the credits

"good night, yoongs. hug y/n for me. tell her i'll take over her part, no questions asked."

taehyung walks away and he's perfectly content even if he didn't get to give you the cookies like jungkook thought he would

"night, taehyung."

yoongi looks at the retreating figure briefly, then looks at jungkook pointedly

he doesn't realize that he's still budging and listened on an entire conversation, dropping his head when yoongi points to the elevator

"bye, jungkook."

"good night, yoongi."

he feels hesitant to leave but it's probably for the better, putting his hands in his pockets still not enough to make his hands stop trembling

kook stops at the middle of his walking, turning his head to look back at yoongi whose mouth already has crumbs

"c-can i see y/n tomorrow?"

"i'm not her dad."

jungkook nods somberly, leaving it at that while his bulk of emotions consume him

he thinks all about the ways he could attempt to make it up to you, a million ideas in his head but his head doesn't hurt

his nose twitches at the lingering scent the cookies left, annoyed at the persistent smell and perhaps the boy that brought them

jungkook's never really liked cookies.

#WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT :O PLACE UR BETS BESTIES #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook scenario

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