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redfoxwritesstuff · 6 months ago

Note

umm smut request incoming…

Vox x alastor’s sister! Reader

Vox railing her and sending a video of something to Alastor (just like maybe a sound bite of her moans or sum) to piss him off… or…

Fucking on a live broadcast because he’s Vox and he if he thinks he can he will (I think he would censor most of it on live tv for the sake of he still technically wants to be the only who gets to see reader naked)

Either way the goal is to absolutely ruin Alastor’s sister to piss Alastor off

No rush…

I live for your writing

I love the way you write Vox…

-🐝anon

Hello, dearheart bumblebee-

Ask and you shall receive, I dearly hope you like it.

Vox x Alastor!Sister!Reader Rating: Adults only Content warnings: Potential age dynamics and power imbalance, dubious content, broadcast of sexual time without reader's consent, smut, putting way too much faith in a glass desk Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

The polished perfection of the tech district gleamed and sparkled around you as your simple low heels clicked against the clean pavement. Everything about the district was maintained perfectly, making it easy to forget you were in Hell as long as you didn’t look at the residents too long.

You had been young when you died and when your elder brother joined you in Hell not too many years later, he had resumed his task of protecting you. It had been suffocating, as much so in death as it had been in life.

Tonight, you were determined to break free from that suffocation. If you were lucky you’d pull it off without him noticing you’d strayed away from his approved districts while he was busy with his little hotel project. It had drawn his attention away from you for a while now and while you had always been an obedient young woman, you craved more.

Music pounded the air as you approached a long line for a club. You’d never been in a proper club. At best, you were allowed to attend lounges and bars similar to what had been popular in the time of your life but after being dead for far longer than you had lived, you wanted to live just a little.

What harm could it do? It’s not like Alastor would find out, he almost never came by the house lately anyway.

Standing in the line was boring. It felt like it was never moving. You were convinced it would be morning before you got inside the stupid club. With your luck, come the brighter light of morning, while you still stood in this cursed line, Alastor would return home for the first time in almost a week to find you missing.

You contemplated leaving as your tall ears flattened against your head. All you wanted was one night to act like a normal 22 (plus a few decades after death) year old living in the modern world and not the little early 1900s relic you spent most of your life being.

Excitement erupted as a fancy black car pulled up just ahead of you in the line. The driver got out, wearing a dark blue pressed suit and held open the back door of the car.

A man, tall with broad shoulders stepped out of the club as people excitedly tried to get his attention. His head was a flat screen, digitized face smiling wide as he seemed to soak up the attention.

You leaned out of the line as you tried to get a better view of the man everyone was so excited to see. Whoever he was, he was attractive in a way you couldn’t really explain. His head was weird but the smile was charming and confident in a way that drew you in.

His eyes scanned the crowd as he walked down the line, speaking to people here or there. Women and men alike swooned for the chance to take a picture with him. He was, without a doubt, a big deal.

Did he know your brother? Would this man recognize your relation if he saw you? You shared many features with your brother, though you lacked the ever present smile and red hair. You had tried to obscure the relationship, donning black and browns rather than the red that dominated your wardrobe.

“What do we have here?”

Your ears flicked up and forward as you realized how close the man had gotten while you were lost in your thoughts. A started squeak slipped out of your mouth as you flinched back from his screen.

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing,” He said as if it was the highest compliment, “what brings you out here?”

“I wanted to go out?” You weren’t sure what to say, not knowing what he knew or who he was.

“How’s that going for you?” He made a show of looking up the long line still to the door. “Been here long?”

“A while,” You admitted, “I may just end up leaving, it’s getting late.”

“Splendid!” He clapped his hands together as he lifted the rope between him and the line you stood in. “What would you say if I told you I could take you somewhere better to get a few drinks and music?”

“Like where?” You asked as you ducked under the rope before hesitating in front of him.

“Vee Tower.” He cocked his thumb to the tower that dominated the district. “We’ve got a bar in there.”

“I- I don’t know who you are. Maybe I should pass,”

“You really aren’t from around here, are you?” The man laughed, holding his hand out for you in invitation. “The name is Vox.”

“You’re an overlord.” You stepped away, regretting leaving the safety of Alastor’s territories. You’d heard his name in passing as your brother talked on about the overlord meetings but knew little else about the man.

“Yep,” He popped the p as he rose his digital eyebrow. “And you look a lot like another overlord. Enough that I wouldn’t feel right leaving you on the streets. Couldn’t let anything bad happen to someone who may be important to my peer, now can I?”

“Your a friend of-”

“I am indeed!” Vox took your hand in his as soon as you made the slightest motion to take his hand. “You want to have a good time out in the tech district, don’t you?”

He lead you toward the waiting car, shooing away the driver and pushing the back passenger door closed with his hip. He opened the front passenger door and all but shoved you in the car.

Getting into the driver’s seat, he had the car in motion before you could even question how the driver was going to get back.

“So, doll- what are you looking to get out of your trip to the modern age?” He turned his head, allowing his eyes to flick between you and the road.

“I just wanted to have a good time. Get out from under my brother’s thumb for a bit,” You twisted the skirt of your dress in your hands. If Vox was a friend of Alastor’s you could surely trust him, though you couldn’t imagine him being friends with a tech overlord.

“Ol Al smothering you?” Vox laughed as if he was in on some joke with you. He was a charming man and you found yourself smiling with him, relaxing into the seat as he made light hearted conversation.

Before you knew it, you had a drink in your hand in Vox’s personal penthouse as he showed off tech to you, leaning over your shoulder as he crowded your space. You found yourself drawn to the warmth of him.

When you leaned your back into his chest, you didn’t know but when you looked back on this night, you would identify that as the trigger for everything that would come next.

His body was firm against your back and his breath, somehow coming from his screen ruffled your hair over your shoulder. His hand fell to your waist with a squeeze. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the prototype device in his hand to flop on a couch in his home office.

Clawed hand pulled your head, forcing you to look over your shoulder as his bright screen burned into your eyes. You closed your eyes to protect them only to feel his screen against your face. It quickly shifted, smooth surface giving way to lips as he kissed you.

It was strange and electrifying. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had kissed you. Being who you were and your brother’s reputation, few would even consider braving the Radio Demon’s wrath.

You hadn’t realized how starved for romantic attention you were until his lips were on you. His mouth tasted like the air smelled ahead of a lighting storm, though you never would have thought of that as a taste before.

You turned in his arms, resting your hands on his chest as your heart thundered in your chest. Strong hands dug into your waist as he walked you back until you bumped into his desk.

He lifted you as if you weighed nothing, setting you on the edge of the smooth glass surface, trusting it to hold your weight. His tongue wormed into your mouth and you moaned at the feel of him. Your mind swam as alcohol and endorphins mixed, giving you a natural high that had you clinging to his chest.

Vox tore his hands from your waist, grabbing your knees and forcing them further apart so that he could slot his body tight between your thighs. Blush burned your skin as you felt his hands run up your legs, pushing your skirt higher as he made his way back to your hips.

Could he see your blush in the dim light?

He pulled you to him by your hips, slotting his crotch tightly against yours as his tongue licked down your neck, leaving a trail of light static shocks in the process that had you gasping for air.

You could feel his hardness against you, throbbing strong enough that you could feel it through his pants and your soaked panties.

“Vox,” You needed him, gasping his name as he ground his hips into you.

“Do you want me?” Vox asked, smirk plastered on his face. “Say you want me.”

“I want you,” You answered as Vox sank to his knees.

“Can I taste you?” His hands ran up and down your legs as he knelt in front of you. Static shocks ran over your skin, leaving goosebumps under his hands.

“I’ve never-” It wasn’t really done in your limited experience in life and in death, you didn’t have much time to find your feet, all things considered, to feel safe enough to explore before your brother’s overbearing presence suffocated any chance you had to explore.

“The first to do this for you?” He asked, eyes wide and earnest, not matching the sly smirk on his face in the slightest. His eyes, you realized, often gave him away. “Let me, please?”

“Okay.”

Your breath caught and stuttered in your lungs as he slipped his claws under your panties and ripped them from you, leaving them in tatters as they fell to the ground. Strong hands ran up and down your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart with each pass.

“Lean back,” He demanded, “Let me see you.”

You did as he asked, leaning back and supporting your weight on the palms of your hands. It took a few tries to find somewhere to put your hands that didn’t have papers or bits of tech.

“Oh,” You gasped as a finger ran up your slit, touch so soft that it only caressed your part without delving inside your folds at all.

“So wet for me already.”

You were far from prepared for the feeling of Vox’s mouth on you. Strong hands pulled your thighs apart, spreading your folds as he ran his long electric tongue up your slit. Static danced on your nerves as his long tongue slipped over your clit only to pull back and circle it.

He pulled the nub into his mouth. Your brain struggled comprehend how any of this was possible when he had a flat screen for a face but as his long finger slipped into your entrance, you didn’t care.

You moaned as he sucked harshly on your clit, running his tongue over the captured bundle of nerves as he pumped the single finger inside you until you were panting. A coil felt ready to break inside you and just when it felt like it would be too much, he pulled away.

“Why did you stop?” You asked as your breathing calmed.

Instead of answering, he leaned in and ran his tongue over your folds repeatedly. As soon as her breath was coming fast again, he entered her once again. Instead of his finger however, it was his long electrified tongue that wiggled itself into her. He slurped her slick from the source as he probed, static sending stimulation over everything he touched until she clenched around him.

He moaned as she spasmed around his tongue, clenching the soft electric muscle. Slick poured into his eager mouth as he palmed himself through his pants to the music of your gasps.

“Did you like that?” Vox asked as he climbed to his feet.

“Yeah,” your arms felt weak as you struggled to support your upper body.

“Tell me how much,” Vox demanded as he worked his belt open.

“It felt so good,” You said, mind spinning as you watched him pull his belt from his pants, clattering to the ground as you babbled praise. “Your mouth felt so good on me. Your tongue,”

Vox freed himself from his pants and you were left mesmerized by his cock. Dark skin covered his considerable size as glowing veins traced their way around his length.

“You think that was good, just wait.”

He ran the head of his cock up and down your slit, gathering ample wetness as he leaned over you, working open the buttons on your blouse. You had no bra on under, leaving you fully exposed as he pulled your shirt open.

“Who would have thought,” Vox loomed over you, hungry eyes roaming over your chest, taking in the swell of your breasts and how they moved with each gasping breath you took. “That that old timey prick had such a darling sister hidden away.”

Fear flared in your mind at the way Vox spoke of your brother, not using the tone or words you’d have expected from someone who was a friend but before you could think too much on it, he was sliding inside.

You were tight and tense as his cock breached your entrance but your copious slick ensured that your tense body did nothing to stop him. Inching in, he pushed your fluttering walls aside slowly as he filled you. When he stilled, you could feel the firm bones of his hips against you while the head of his cock kissed your cervix.

“Fuck, doll.” He leaned over you, shoving the items on his desk to the floor without a care as be braced himself against the desk, ensuring you were boxed in, speared and with no where to go. “You’re so tight. Squeezing me like it’ll save you. His best kept secret, huh?”

You tried to get your feet in front of him, tried to find purchase to push him back so you could breath but his chest was solid and firm under your hand. It was like pushing against a wall. Your feet found no way to catch any part of him to push against, your attempts only causing you to wiggle and nudge the cock buried deep inside you.

“Don’t worry, Doll- I’m not going to hurt you.” Vox promised, dark smile on his digital face. “I’m going to show you what you’re missing out on. Remember how good you said I made you feel? I’m going to make you feel so much better.”

You clenched your jaw as he pulled back, heavy length pulling from your cunt in a wet drag until his tip, glowing slightly with the flush of his strange blood as it nestled just inside you.

“You look so good like this, spread out on my desk, little doe tail mashed against the glass and my cock spreading you.”

His hips snapped forward and you couldn’t contain the moan as the force jostled your body on the desk. Pulling back, he admired the way your ears sat atop your head, cocked to the side and limp, face slack and eyes drooping as you looked up at him.

If he couldn’t have Alastor, he would have you. If he couldn’t have Alastor, he would ruin you. If Alastor wouldn’t want him, he would ensure you craved him.

Another snap of his hips had a deeper moan pour from your pretty parted lips. This was wrong, you knew that now. He wasn’t a friend. You should have listened to your brother. You should have never left the safety of his territory.

But it was hard to keep telling yourself that as Vox’s cock kissed your cervix with every thrust forward. The words that fell from his lips, hot promises and dark praises had you wanting more.

Your slick poured out of you with every pull back of Vox’s heavy cock, you could feel more of your slick smear around your folds and hips, dripping down you and wetting the fur of your tail.

You arched on the glass desk as Vox leaned forward, static tongue reaching out to twist and slither over your nipple, sending shocks through your blood and down your core.

“Fuck,” you gasped, reaching out for his arms to somehow ground yourself as his lips enveloped your nipple, teeth grazing over the sensitive pebble.

“Who’s making you feel good?” Vox asked as he pulled away, “Who’s cock are you taking so well?”

“Vox,” you gripped his arm in one hand, reaching out and running your palm over his clothed chest as he moved above you, “Vox, please?”

“What do you need, Doll?”

Your body was rocking with each hard thrust, breasts bouncing with each jostle. He grabbed your hips as he straightened, pulling you harshly to hin with each thrust, making your breathy moans up in pitch as he hit something deep inside of you just right.

“Please,” You repeated, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“What do you like?” He questioned, leaning over you for a moment to kiss you hotly, tongue sweeping into your mouth as things shifted and moved on his desk. Electricity ran over your skin as his power flared but you couldn’t make yourself care. “Want to hear your voice.”

“Your cock,” You gasped as he pulled back, a strand of saliva stretching between your lip and where his screen gave way to his lips. You gasped as he shifted you, angling your hips so that his cock pressed tighter against the soft front of your walls. “Feels so good.”

He supported your hips with a hand under you, fingers wrapped around the little tail, underside sticky with spilled slick. It wasn’t comfortable but you were too distracted by the way he gripped your tail to care about the pressure. His other hand pressed on your lower belly, making the head of his cock hit the spongy bundle of nerves harder with each violent trust.

“Fuck, so good.” he said, leaning forward again and supporting his weight on palm placed by your arm as you tightened around him. “Fuck babydoll, so tight. Going to ruin you. Going to mark you inside and out.”

“Please,” You whined, hooking your legs around his back as his pubic bone crashed and rubbed against your clit with every thrust, “So close. Don’t stop. Please,”

“Who’s cock are you going to cum on?” His arm gave out, causing him to crash down on a elbow. A shimmering crack spidered out from where his elbow crashed into the glass surface. “Who’s cum are you going to take?”

“Vox,” You clenched around him, walls fluttering as you held onto him with arms and legs and core, wanting to pull him closer still, “Vox, I’m going to-”

“Ffffuuck,” He moaned deeply as his cock, nestled right against your cervix twitched. His hips rocked as he spilled his load deep inside your twitching walls. Your hips rocked as you humped into him, urging his cock to twitch and spurt as your climax faded, leaving you twitching, gasping, full and satisfied.

“You did so good for me,” Vox said as he caressed your face with a clawed hand. “Put on a hell of a show.”

“What?” The word was slurred as you leaned into his touch, spent and body aching from the force of your orgasms.

“Did you have a good night out?” Vox asked instead of answering your question. You groaned as his softening cock twitched, still slotted deep inside you.

“So good,” you praised, wrapping your fingers around his forearm as you basked in the afterglow. “Felt so good. Worth sneaking out.”

“Good,” Vox said, withdrawing from you and tugging your skirt down and packing his cock back into his pants. There was no avoiding the way your slick had marked up the front of his pants but he would deal with that later.

“Vox, I-” You sat up, buttoning your top as you watched the attractive man straighten himself up.

“A car is waiting for you. Your brother is looking for you. Better scurry back to the middle ages, Doll.” Vox glanced down at his phone before looking at your wide brown eyes. So innocent and soft where your brother was dark and sharp.

“Will I see you again?” You asked, hopeful.

“Maybe,” Vox teased, running his clawed hand over your tall ears that looked so much like his, “If your brother ever lets you out of his sight again.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that as he ushered you out of his home. He hadn’t even given you a chance to clean up. With each step you took, you could feel your slick between your legs and the way his seed seeped from your stretched core.

On the other side of the pentagram, Alastor thrashed through his broadcasting tower. Angel’s phone was shattered against the wall, screen dark. It didn’t matter, every time he closed his eyes he could still see it.

The way your face looked, his sweet sister contorted in pleasure granted by that disgusting, flat faced, trend chasing buffoon. Alastor had no doubt that Vox had used you to get to him.

Vox didn’t care for you, not that Alastor wanted him to. What he dreaded though was your realization that your lover’s tryst was broadcast throughout Hell. All of Hell could have watched Vox claim the hardly seen sister of the Radio Demon. All of Hell could have heard the Tech overlord’s name fall from the one person closest to Alastor.

All of Hell saw Vox take what Alastor was responsible for protecting.

“You’ll regret this, Old Pal.” Alastor promised as he sank into shadows to find out where you had been dropped off.

#vox x reader #vox x you #vox smut #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #requested

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dynamic-swap-au-archive · 7 months ago

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this is something that I've been waiting to be able to share for some time! I wanted to post it when I was close to having the guides for dynaswap finished (which I should, very soon <3)

it, quite frankly, changes everything for me.

dynaswap has made jokes about stu and murdoc having sex before [Link], and it's been implied that stu and murdoc were going to start Getting Along phase 4-5 [Link 1, Link 2, Link 3, Link 4], but this is Direct Confirmation that had dynaswap continued stu and murdoc would have been in a romantic relationship phase 5.

I say phase 5 Specifically because of Something Else

this is the full page of a teaser that was released august 7th, 2018 [Link]

this was a few weeks before the official blog came out, so these are Very likely early drafts for what would have been phase 5 (stu's appearance Especially seems to be based more on his appearance in phase 1 than the design they seem to have gone with for phase 4-5.

but this is Also where we finally FINALLY got the uncensored chart for stu's glass eyes [Link]

the red "souk eye" was a gift from murdoc, given to stu in phase 5. both for the obvious reason of It's Name, And because the only images for phase 4 that we have Very Specifically draw stu without any glass eyes at all, going back to having an empty socket [Link 1, Link 2]

it's Also notable because all of those teasers to stu and murdoc's relationship getting Better that the creators posted Show Stu Wearing The Souk Eye. this is clearly Very Significant to them and their relationship, and you notice it Everywhere once you know where to look.

I'll mourn that we'll never know how this happened, how they were supposed to work things out. but I'm so grateful that we Get to know.

these sketches (and several others that I'll be sharing shortly <3) were sourced from a friend who used to be in the dynaswap discord before it was deleted. I trust that they're telling me the truth (I know them personally, and of course we Know the second image is real).

But it's worth noting that we Do have overt proof that the first image was drawn by paleimitatorz.

october 2nd, 2018, they were asked to draw "lovesick murdoc," and in response they posted a colored and slightly edited version of the image in the lower right corner !: [Link]

and something to note here is What makes it edited. All of the images that we have for murdoc phase 4-5 show him with one permanently white eye. which paleimitatorz specifically drew Back In when they colored this sketch.

I don't know if this was done to hide that it was dynaswap or to avoid spoilers, but it Is worth noting that they've posted edited dynaswap images before [Link]

I bring this up for reasons. Firstly that I think this is a slight hint towards what would have happened to murdoc !

his eyes have always gone all white when he's possessed, so there's a lot of Demonic Implications if one of his eyes is now Permanently white. something that I've speculated about Here in regards to a different teaser [Link]

the other reason why I bring it up is because I've taken the liberty of editing it Back to being dynaswap, just for fun.

#gorillaz #dynaswap #dynamic swap au #canon #image #lore #phase 4 #phase 5 #stu #murdoc #2doc #or as they'd say in dynaswap #studoc

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jitsuiwawatashiwa · 4 years ago

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#joker game #jitsui #kaminaga #kamijitsu #my art #what's that? a ship? I mean I guess yeah #I drew this a few weeks back or something when we in the discord were discussing it #come join the discord eyes emoji #the jg discord not the kamijitsu discord lmao

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a-second-chance-su-au · 4 years ago

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FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Tapas Link! | FAQ! | Discord!

Shoutout to @inkquill256 for helping me with the coloring on this one!

I ramble about this page down below the cut if you wanna read that lol.

Likes are great, but reblogs are what really help me out! Thank you!

So first thing’s first, since this is based on the actually show- which had the same shot multiple times in different cuts- I am doing the same thing here. Cope + paste a sketch, bring in some old backgrounds, you get the drill lol.I only drew 2/7 panels on the bottom page, the rest of the background were recycled from the first!

It’s not plagiarism if you steal it from yourself!

On another note, there’s a new meme format now.

Go nuts lmao

On another note, thank you so much for 2000 followers! You guys absolutely rock and you’ve made my week tbh. I love each and every one of you so much, I hope you know that. <3

If you haven’t already, vote in the 2000 followers poll! It decides how we celebrate, and lets you give me feedback on the comic! It can go a few different ways, and I want to see what y’all want most. If I can work those in, it would be really cool!

Going back to the page, stop reading if you don’t want to be told what’s going on! I am going to talk a bit about Spin’s illusion powers and how they work. It won’t be giving away too much, but this is your formal spoiler warning!

Stop reading...

Last chance to look away...

Okay, we good? Epic.

As I talked about in this meta post, Spinel has illusion powers, as shown in Drift Away from the movie. I am using those here. They don’t always happen with a sparkly sequence- the first time/this episode is going to really be the only times we see that happen, just like in the show when a gem introduces a new power for the first time. Think Pearl doing the “HaaaaaaaAAAAAAAA” thing when summoning something out of her gem for the first time, or how when Garnet got rid of her gauntlets the first time, light swirls around her hands for a solid 5 seconds (or more??). Same thing.

Spinel DOES have limits to this power. I will not tell you what they are just yet, but she can handle a lot all at once. She’s had thousands of years of experience. However, all the experience in the world doesn’t mean anything when it comes to making illusions real. She can only control the visual- texture, sound effects, special effects, and all of that kind of thing are out of her control. Keep your eyes peeled for that. ;)

K, thanks for reading this far. I hope you enjoyed, and plEASE send me your memes. I wanna see what y’all do with it lol.

#a second chance #a second chance su au #asc su au #steven universe #spinel #crystal gem spinel #su au #steven universe au #a second chance au #star spinel #dimond speaks #s1e2 #episode 2 #season 1 #man of the mountain #motm #the comic

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cyndavilachase · 5 years ago

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I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye

So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended…

I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.

I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.

As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).

I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant.

What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.

I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation.

I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.

Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers.

But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt.

My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.

Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.

By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.

I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely.

I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.

It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.

As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.

Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that.

Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️

-Cynthia D.

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 4 years ago

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All Cream, No Sugar

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! Here is my sfw fic that was submitted to my friend @writing-in-april for the 4th Fic Swap on @imagining-in-the-margins ‘s Discord! Not my best work because I have been struggling to manage time lately and balance everything with my school and personal life. But I hope it is enjoyable nonetheless!

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It was Thursday. Possibly the worst day of the week. Even more awful than Monday. It always felt like a barricade between the beginning of the week and the weekend. The glorious, lazy weekend. Honestly, now that I think about it...Thursday has the same kind of feel as November.

I chuckled to myself as I left my apartment. My mind was a special place, and I guess today was no different. Better than thinking about my finals, though. Literally anything was better to think about instead of final exams. That’s why I’m treating myself to a break at my favorite coffee shop. I deserve it, really, after the studying I have been doing all day. At least, that’s what I tell myself so I feel okay about spending all this money on coffee.

The car ride over there was quick enough. I lived on the outskirts of the city, but this place has the best coffee, and I would drive a ridiculous amount of time to get to it. No matter the distance, it would be worth it.

And maybe...just maybe…I would see that guy that comes in sometimes. The one with the messy hair and the sweater vests. He was so intriguing. I don’t even know his name, but I always notice when he comes in while I’m there. It was pretty much impossible not to. Hopefully one day I would work up the nerve to talk to him. Maybe that day would be today.

I walked in the building, and the smell of coffee and sweets immediately hit me. It was so comforting. Almost like a tiny sanctuary away from home, and I was always so appreciative.

As soon as the little bell on the door rang, the barista behind the counter looked up and shot me a smile. They recognized me quite often.

“Hey, (Y/N), the usual?” she called from across the floor.

“You know it,” I said with a wink.

I took my favorite seat in the shop and looked around. It was pretty empty today, which was just the way I like it. It means less time to wait for my coffee and I can sit in peace. The only thing that would make it better is if that guy came in and I got my big girl pants on to ask him his name.

After a few minutes, my coffee was brought to me and I handed the waiter some cash for my order, with a good amount leftover for a tip. His smile was bright and thankful, and it made me hopeful for today.

Each time the door opened and another person walked in, my heart skipped a beat. I stopped counting when I got to 10 people that turned out not to be him. It irked me more than I care to admit.

I was starting to lose hope, staring daggers at the dregs of my leftover coffee. Perhaps I thought I would find him there? I just wanted to see him.

A tap on my shoulder drew me out of my thoughts. Well, it startled me out of them more like. With a gasp, I jumped and looked up at the person who tapped on me. It was the barista who greeted me and made my coffee. Sophie. My favorite barista to spill all my problems to.

“You okay? You look like you’re really thinking hard about something.”

I sighed and almost smiled at how ridiculous I was being.

“Yeah, I’m okay. And I was thinking about something. Can you sit for a minute?”

She nodded, “I’m on break, thankfully.”

Once she took her seat across from me at the tiny table, I wrapped my fingers around the now room temperature coffee cup in front of me.

“So, what’s up? What could you possibly be thinking about that’s got you looking like that?”

“Um, well. There’s this guy…”

Her eyes widened and she leaned forward a bit, as if to ask me to continue.

“You might have seen him in here before. He comes in as much as I do, which is why I noticed him.”

“What does he look like?”

“Well, he’s tall. He wears sweaters a lot...um…oh, his hair is kind of messy, but in a cute way. And he has this dumb little satchel he carries sometimes-”

“Does he look like that guy?” Sophie asked as she pointed behind me.

I followed where her finger was pointing by the door and sure enough, he was there. But he was there with another girl I had never seen him with before. She had dark hair and striking eyes, along with a certain air about her that just gave off badass vibes. Of course he would have a girlfriend. And a gorgeous one at that.

I turned back to Sophie quickly before he noticed me staring.

“Uh, yeah. That would be him. But I’ve never seen that girl before. It figures, though. Just my luck.”

The pair began walking farther into the shop, talking quietly as they approached the counter to order. The more they talked and smiled at each other, the more my heart seemed to falter.

“Oh, (Y/N),” Sophie said quietly so only I would hear, “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t respond to her. I didn’t have to. The look in my eyes was enough to let her know what I was thinking and feeling.

Her break was about to be over, so she placed a hand gently on top of mine, and with a small smile, left me there.

Well, there was only one thing left to do. Get another coffee, and maybe something sweet to drown my sorrows in.

I took a deep breath and stood up, grabbing my empty cup to throw away when I got to the front to order. I didn’t see them anywhere now. They must have ordered already and found a seat. But truthfully, I didn’t look around for them long. I didn’t want to.

I ordered a black coffee and a doughnut, and waited for a second for them to hand me my order instead of going back to my table to wait. Sometimes they put too much creamer in the coffee, so this way I could go over to the cream and sugar stand and make it myself.

Coffee and doughnut in hand, I made my way over to the small fridge they left out for customers to put in their own creamer and milk. I wasn’t really feeling the flavored seasonal creamers they had, so I just grabbed the half and half and started pouring. I didn’t really want any sugar either. I had my doughnut, which I probably wouldn’t even eat to be honest. My stomach was in knots.

A sudden voice behind me knocked me out of my thoughts.

“All cream, no sugar, huh? I’m the total opposite.”

I was so startled that my hand seemed to seize up, causing me to jerk the carton of half and half away from the cup. Now there was liquid all over the counter.

“Oh. I’m so sorry- Here, let me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I still hadn’t looked at who was talking to me, so when the footsteps got closer and I felt someone next to me, I decided I should finally look up.

It was him. The guy. The one I came here for. Except now he was standing right next to me.

He grabbed a handful of paper towels and started wiping up the mess on the counter while I stood wide-eyed and in shock. I should probably say something.

“I’m so sorry. I was...thinking about something and you startled me. I feel so clumsy.”

He looked up at me with a hint of a smile on his face.

“No, it’s really my fault. I’m not good at talking to people.”

Once he had finished cleaning up, he threw the paper towels away and turned back towards me.

“What’s your name? I see you in here sometimes. I guess you could say we’re both regulars.”

A lump formed in my throat that I had to swallow down forcefully. He saw me in here sometimes? He noticed me? Did he ever see me looking at him? Oh no.

“Um, my name is (Y/N). I see you in here sometimes too. The coffee here is really good, yeah?”

He smiled again, but bigger and more pronounced this time. Nodding his head, he shifted his bag and looked back at me.

“My name’s Spencer. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

Now it was my turn to smile. This was going pretty good, all things considered. It’s too bad about that girl he’s with, though. Speaking of the girl, she was walking towards us right now. Fantastic. Just what my anxiety needed.

“Spencer, we just got a call. Did you not pay attention to your phone?” the woman said in a hurry as she came closer.

Spencer jumped a bit and started to dig in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and laughed nervously.

“I have it on silent. Whoops.”

The woman rolled her eyes and then seemed to notice me standing there.

“Ohh, I see. You had it on mute so you could talk to this girl you were telling me about, hmm? Better hope I don’t tell Hotch”

Spencer opened and closed his mouth a few times, and I was simply shocked. He wanted to talk to me? Like, on purpose? He told this woman about me?

“I’ll meet you outside, Emily,” Spencer groaned at her.

The woman named Emily smiled at me and winked before leaving. So now it was just me and Spencer, standing awkwardly together. Great.

“I, um...ignore her. She’s a colleague from work...and apparently my wing woman now.”

I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. So she was just a friend. I had gotten myself all sad and anxious for nothing. Honestly, that’s typical for me though, so…

I could only smile. So much so that it made my cheeks hurt.

“So, do you have to leave? For work or something?”

Spencer shifted his weight nervously.

“Yeah, I um, yeah I’m sorry. I really would like to stay and talk more. I hope you don’t find it weird I told her about you, by the way. I just notice you in here a lot and I think you’re really pretty and I just-”

He cut himself off suddenly and looked at me sadly.

“I have to go, but here.”

Hurriedly, he pulled out a scrap piece of paper from his bag and a pen. He leaned over the counter and quickly wrote his name and number on the paper and handed it to me somewhat forcefully.

“Text me or call me...you know, if you want. Um, I really have to go. I’m sorry.”

He turned on his heel and began walking towards the door.

“Spencer!” I called across the shop.

Spencer stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me, almost with an excited glint in his eye.

I held the paper he gave me gently in my hand and took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart.

“I noticed you, too.”

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jjungkookislife · 3 years ago

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Fic Recs 2020 Pt. 1

Seokjin

let’s get married [SMAU] @hangsangwithbts

Summary: seokjin has no intention of getting married, but after facing tremendous pressure from his family to finally settle down, he comes up with the brilliant idea to fake a marriage. the lucky bride just so happens to be you.

voice mail @joonary

summary: kim seokjin is best known around campus for his romance advisory podcast, voice mail, but to you, he’s just your lovable idiot of a best friend. but when he accidentally lets it slip that he’s fallen for one of your fellow peers, you can’t help but be a little bit curious (and quite frankly, a tad bit jealous).

Yoongi

cheers if you agree @out-of-jams

summary: If it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t know who you were or even how to get into contact with you, Yoongi wouldn’t be posting all over Weverse for anyone to see. Not that he thought anyone would be smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together with how many people responded to his posts anyway.

snake kisses @peekaboongi

summary: You are grossly unprepared for the snake hybrid that enters your life. Yoongi is quiet and sneaks around you but eventually, even the cold reptile warms up to you.

under construction [SMAU] @luffles424

summary: In which y/n is just trying to figure out what to do with her life with the help from her (un)helpful friends

Hoseok

going once, going twice, sold @bxebxee

summary: But the real reason anything at all started with Hoseok was something much simpler, and probably wholly unexpected - not that you ever planned on any of the other members of the MBA Society to find out.You leave your unlocked phone in his car before stumbling your way into your tiny, studio apartment. And he sees a twitter notification asking you for further discount on your panties.That is all it takes.

just practice @lamourche

summary: The second time you hook up with Jung Hoseok, he doesn’t remember the first time. You’re surprised. It was only a few weeks ago, and you were in a broom closet. That has to be different, right? (Well, not really, you’ll learn.)

game over @9uk

summary: your boyfriend has been gaming all day without paying much attention to you. that is until his friends on discord brings up the moaning noises in the background.

you’re my kryptonite @dovechim

summary: Superheroes are immortal, they are everything we are not. The Krypton are a race of superhumans sent down to Earth to protect humans, and they are the epitome of nobility and protection. You have always believed in their immortal, God-like powers, revered and admired them your entire life. Your wish for your very own superhero is granted when you meet Jung Hoseok, a Krypton with the most unique, powerful abilities you’ve ever seen.

Namjoon

first, do no harm @yandere-society

summary: Dr. Kim is well known as the most skilled heart surgeon in the hospital, but when you notice his mortality statistics seem skewered, you discover all is not what it seems. Now, Dr. Kim is offering you a choice: will you join him? Or become yet another broken heart beneath his scalpel?

internet friends [SMAU] @bts-celestials

summary: meeting through online, namjoon slowly starts to fall for the person who likes all the things he’s into. maybe having friends online is fun.

Jimin

reset @dovechim

summary: We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

paparazzi (tw: flash banner) @chinkbihh

summary: What if the roles were reversed and it was Jimin who was the fan and you who was the idol? But what if he wasn’t just a casual fan, but an avid fan? Maybe even a sasaeng…

Taehyung

the morning after @softlyjiminie

summary: one night, full of passion, whispered promises and heated kisses. one morning, full of regret and unwanted memories. is a night with your ex enough to send you running back into the arms of the devil?

fake love @mygsii

summary: an arranged marriage between you and taehyung leaves behind feelings of bitterness and hatred. will your heart be able to survive, especially when you’ve loved him all your life, or will it fall apart with this marriage?

cheap skate @gukslut

summary: Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.

baby i @jiminsfault

summary: a one night stand with a stranger leads to so much more than just great sex

Jungkook

only for love [SMAU] @lysjeon

summary: for almost four years it had been just him and sarang, and he had no plans on changing the life they had become accustomed to any time soon, but of course y/n has to come and shake his world.

one time in your room @ubemango

summary: There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

piss off your parents @littlemisskookie

summary: In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm.

departure @nomnomsik

summary: As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

curiosity @hobidreams

summary: when innocent jungkook comes to you with a not-so-innocent question… you decide it’s easier to just demonstrate.

inkling @gguksgalaxy

summary: Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

j’aime @baepop

summary: You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

pop goes the cherry @1oserjk

summary: jungkook comes back home to find you visiting as well, all grown up — in more ways than one.

skirt chasers @1kook

summary: “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

kiss it better @jincherie

summary: When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

pay by play @yoonia

camboy!au

deeply poisoned @xmagicxshopx

summary: Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us. Deeply poisoned by the jail of you. I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway.

speeding ticket @minstrophywife

summary: Caught speeding to get home in time, you find yourself pulled over by a very delicious cop. Perhaps you can talk your way out of the ticket.Or,“I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a cavity search ma’am.”

OT7/Multiple Members

buttercream @minniepetals

summary: you were always adorable in their eyes, sometimes a little too adorable.

dulce periculum @forgottenpasta

summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part ½

tropicana @dragunjk

summary: groovy punch sippin

amaranthine @koyamuses

summary: As the sole owner of Nightshade, a quaint bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city, you find pleasure in rising each morning to tend to your guests but behind closed doors and within the shadows, you are the covenant leader to a group of young vampires who have claimed you as their mate.More often than not, your day is brimming with a mix of daily chores and back door deals that ensure the survival of your covenant. However, everything changes when three werewolves come stumbling into your life, all three of them claiming it was your scent that drew them closer as the words true mate ring into the silence.

testosterone boys @kiwiscript

summary: A little end of the year party tradition gets taken too far.

operation love letters @ve1vetyoongi

summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

our princess @iridescentjin

summary: In your newly established poly relationship, you are intimate with both Taehyung and Seokjin at the same time for the first time.

#fic recs #fic recs 2020 #fic recs masterlist #jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist

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thekisforkeats · 3 years ago

Text

The Way You Say My Name

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set immediately post-MAG 22. Martin is trans and Jon is amab non-binary.

CWs: Guilt, self-recrimination, worms (mentioned), arguments, shouting, crying, lying (Martin lying about his CV still), transphobia (mentioned), misgendering (mentioned), child abuse (mention of Martin Blackwood's mother)

Summary: Just after MAG 22, Jon apologizes for his treatment of Martin over the past few months. Or tries to, anyway. It's hard to apologize to someone when you don't understand exactly what it is you've done to upset them.

(Of course, once Jon's apologized and Martin's relaxing, well... that's when Jon will finally notice he actually likes Martin, isn't it? Not that he's going to admit to that, even to himself.)

Shoutout to the Martin Blackwood Lovers Discord Server, without whom I would not have written this up and posted it. ;) Jon’s dialogue was (mostly) written by @marianfuckinghawke.

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“Recording ends.”

Jon reached out and pressed the stop button on the tape recorder. He sighed and looked at his phone. The message from Jane Prentiss was still glowing on the screen. He ran a hand through his short hair, aware he was mussing the grey-streaked black and deciding he didn’t care.

He had listened to Martin’s account of the encounter with Jane Prentiss with trepidation and worry. Now he could feel his face settling into something more drawn with concern. First, concern for his two assistants who were out of the Archive at the moment. Second, concern for Martin. The man had gotten himself into this mess because of Jon’s words. Due diligence. Was he really such a hardass that he had put one of his subordinates in harm’s way? How had he not realized that it might come to this?

Martin sat fidgeting, shifting in his seat, and Jon could feel the other man’s soft brown eyes on him. He had the look of a frightened, cornered animal and it cut Jon to the quick. He had done this. Jon was responsible for the man’s state, and he had to figure out how to make it better.

There was silence for a solid three minutes. Then Martin opened his mouth to say, “So if I’m going to be--”

Jon started speaking at exactly the same time. “So obviously you’re--” He blinked and said, “I’m sorry--”

“No, no, you go,” Martin said, raising his hands and waving them rapidly.

“No. It’s alright… go ahead,” Jon replied at the exact same time, then frowned.

Martin cleared his throat, then seemed to gather his courage. “Well. I was going to say. If I’m going to be staying here, I’ll need… things. Like, uhh, there’s a cot, but I’ll need, like… a toothbrush? I mean, you don’t have a stash of those sitting around, do you?” He chuckled in a self-deprecating manner.

“No, I do not,” Jon replied. “Nor do you have a proper change of clothing… you can hardly wear the same outfit for however long this will take, and you won’t want to sleep in what you’re wearing.” He had a sudden mental image of Martin sleeping naked, and cleared his throat while he shoved it away. Hardly an appropriate thought about a co-worker, even if it wasn’t remotely sexual. “We will have to go out and get such things for you… perhaps after I brief Tim and Sasha on the situation.”

Martin nodded. “There’s a room that might be, umm… did you know one of the rooms that’s filled with boxes is supposed to be the break room?” He gave that self-deprecating laugh again. “‘Course you know that, stupid, what am I saying…” He glanced aside, cheeks flushing. “Umm. Anyway. Umm. It’s bigger than the room you’ve got the cot in? If… if… I’m going to be staying here… I could clean it out… make it livable, maybe, umm, get some snacks and tea and things in, and there’d be more room for extra cots… in case you need somewhere to stay late or… something…” A pause. “Or not! Or just. You know. I’ll just. Have lots of time, so. I can. Clean. The break room.”

Jon did not, in fact, know that they’d had a break room at all. It had been frustrating to have everyone going up to the Admin break room on the ground floor, and he’d said so more than once. No, wait… had someone told him, and had he just told them off about clearing the room out?

He was suddenly horribly aware of how many times he’d griped at Martin for going up there to make tea that he had then gone ahead and drunk. How had he been such a prick to this man?

When Jon had started as Head Archivist, he’d had all sorts of plans for team morale, bonding exercises, and the like. He’d always hated them personally but they were the sort of thing bosses were supposed to do. The trouble was that all of his “how best to run the Archives as a team” ideas had flown right out of his head once he’d gotten down there and found himself at a desk where a woman had maybe died, struggling to record statements, dealing with doggy messes, and that damned persistent feeling of being watched.

Well, now was as good a time as any to start acting the way he should have all along.

“Martin… we will clean the break room. Together. As a group.” He ran his hand through his hair again. He really was going to look a mess. “It is a communal space, it will be a communal job.” He added quickly, “Yes, I know you’ll be here more than the rest of us, but I want us all involved. We need…” He sighed. Time to apologize. “I have been… less supportive of you than I should. And…” He swallowed, aware of the flush rising on his cheeks. “I feel I must apologize. So… I am sorry. But we should do more together, especially given that circumstances have escalated.”

Martin blinked at him for a moment. “You’re… sorry. For… being less… supportive than you should have been.” There was a hard-to-read undercurrent in his tone.

“For being… rude to you… and for punishing you…” Jon replied. “Unjustly.” He gestured to the recorder. “All of this… happened because of your adherence to my instructions…” He frowned. “So. I’m sorry.”

“Well,” Martin snapped, “at least you��re finally realizing that it was… unjust.” He glared at Jon, who suddenly felt pinned to the spot by eyes that were no longer soft but had gone hard as agates.

Jon blinked at Martin. “Are… are you alright?” He was apologizing! He couldn’t be messing that up this badly, could he?

Martin drew a long breath in through his nose. “Yeah,” he said, in a high-pitched, clipped tone. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He went to stand abruptly, pushing away from the desk, and in that same tone, “Well, you’d better get to… briefing people, then. I’ll just… go see how far my paycheck can stretch in Chelsea.” His tone was dripping with bitterness by the end.

Jon stood up. “Martin!” He was vaguely aware of saying it in the same irritated tone he always used for the man’s name, aware that Martin visibly flinched at the word, and tried to moderate his tone. “What is going on? I am apologizing! Is… am I missing something?” He moved around the desk to try to be sure Martin didn’t just leave without finishing the conversation.

“No,” Martin said, stopping while facing the door, tone still a good two octaves above normal. “No, it’s fine. You’re apologizing, and that’s good.” His whole frame was stiff, though, and his tone practically screamed “lying.”

Jon couldn’t read people all that well, but even he could read the signs Martin was giving off. “While your words are clear, your body language says quite otherwise.” He tried to moderate his tone again, but he couldn’t help sounding mildly irritated. He didn’t like being lied to, especially concerning his own actions, and he wasn’t sure what he had done incorrectly in this situation. “Now will you stop and talk to me?”

Martin turned away from the door, faced Jon, jaw set firmly. “What do you want me to say, Jon? Do you want me to… to forgive you? To say ‘oh, sure, you’re sorry, so that makes up for the last six months where you’ve made me want to quit my job every day?’ Am I supposed to… to… just… oh, well, there’s danger, so now you’ve realized I’m an actual person, now you’re going to stop kicking me around, now you’re going to pitch in to help around here as I’m not already the one spending all his time trying to clean up the mess while Tim and Sasha run out to research things so you don’t have to send anyone to double-check my work? Never mind that I’ve been trapped for two weeks, I could’ve been dead and none of you bothered to check on me!”

Martin was all but shouting by the end of the diatribe, every line of him stiff and furious, and Jon was suddenly very aware of the fact that Martin was taller and bigger than he was. He cringed away from Martin, took a step back. “I… I…” He turned away to his desk, grabbed his phone. “Here…” he said, handing it to Martin. “Look!” The phone would solve the problem, if Martin could just see… “There… I… just… please…”

The moment Jon had cringed away Martin had hunched his shoulders, deliberately making himself smaller. Now he was taking long, deep breaths, his expression ashamed. He reached out to take the phone from Jon.

The display was still on the screen of Jon’s message history with Martin. Before the last message from Jane Prentiss was a long list of messages from Jon--numerous messages inquiring about Martin’s health, worried and concerned. He had linked articles about foods to eat when feeling ill, then when he’d realized some of those might be hard for Martin to make alone, found new links that had easier recipes.

There were also, Jon knew, greyed-out deleted messages.

Martin, know that your presence is missed here at the Archives. I am wishing you a quick recovery.

I know it’s sudden, but I find myself missing you. Just thought you should know.

And others, so many others, as Jon had tried to figure out how to pierce the wall built by the texts he’d been getting back from what he now knew was Jane Prentiss, asking to be left alone.

As Jon watched Martin reading the messages he nervously bounced in place, one arm folded over his chest to hold the other. He could feel his skin glowing from embarrassment and he wasn’t even sure why. The blush faded, however, as he watched Martin. Watched the anger fade, and realized what lay underneath. The pain that had been underlying that anger, the way it lifted as Martin read through the message history--it was like a revelation. Martin must have walked in here convinced nobody at his place of employment really cared about him, and Jon realized that that was, indeed, what he must usually think, if something as simple as text messages was making something like hope bloom on his face.

It occurred to Jon, suddenly, that nobody had checked on Martin. For two weeks. No friends, no family. Nobody had even noticed the man was gone.

Jon had to fix this. Somehow. And not by wrapping Martin up in a fierce hug like he very much wanted to; that would not be appreciated from the man’s asshole boss. Even if Martin looked like he really, really needed a hug.

By the time Martin handed the phone back to Jon, his breathing was shaky and unsteady. He dropped back into the chair, like his legs suddenly weren’t working. “S-sorry,” he managed in the barest of whispers. “Sorry.”

“That’s… my line,” Jon said. “I am sorry. I should have said more to make it clear… you are a valued member of this team.” He shook his head, wincing at how… canned that line sounded, but pushed on. “I should have said it at least once. And… I never did. I held you at arm’s length and ostracized you. And… I understand how you felt all that time now…” He sighed. “And… yes, it may have taken this incident to make me realize how terrible a person I’ve been to you since… since you started working here.”

Martin stared down at his hands; Jon could see he was crying, but silently, without sniffling or sobbing. “Why?” he finally managed. He looked up at Jon. “Why? What did I… do? I mean… there was the whole ‘dog’ business at the beginning… what, do you hate dogs that much?” There was a kind of desperation in his tone.”

“No… I mean, sure I’m more of a cat person, but… no… I don’t hate dogs.” Jon frowned. “I… I’ve given that a lot of thought these past two weeks and I think I figured it out.” He sighed. “It wasn’t you I was angry with.” He took a breath. “I was angry at Elias. I like to have a sense of who I work with, to get to know them before I get into anything serious.” Oh, no, wait, that sounded… he hadn’t meant it like… work. He’d meant work! No, he was overthinking that; Martin knew he meant work. He stammered for a moment, though. “It’s… part of who I am… as a person.

Jon took a breath, to steady himself. Focus on the apology. “When Elias… placed you here without telling or consulting me about the selection process, it… felt like a betrayal. I felt that agency over my department had been taken out of my hands. And yes… I know he runs the Institute, but he should have at least consulted me about who is in my department.”

He dropped his head and reached to take a box of tissues from the side of the desk, to slide them towards Martin. An olive branch. “I took out that anger and frustration on you. And that was wrong, I know that now.”

“Not like I wanted to be here either,” Martin mumbled, reaching out for a tissue and wiping at his eyes. It didn’t do much to stop the tears. “I mean, I didn’t even want the damn library job, I j-just…” He stumbled, stammering, “It’s… it’s harder to get a position with a degree in parapsychology than you might think.” He sniffled. “B-but… even on top of that… you and Tim and Sasha, you’re all friends already, you requested them. Even if Tim and Sasha and I get along they don’t really know me, and you… well…” He sighed. “When Elias said I was going to work for Jonathan Sims I just about freaked out. You’ve got a… reputation, you know? I just… I knew it’d be… lonely down here, and it really has been.” There was a furrow between his brows now as he looked at Jon.

Jon frowned. He’d known he had a reputation around the Institute, but he hadn’t thought it was that bad. He took a deep breath; this wasn’t about him right now. “Then let us work on fixing that. Starting now. Like I said, we need to be working together more, improve the… office atmosphere. I… have come to admire your dedication to your work. ‘Due diligence,’ as you put it.”

Martin regarded him quietly for a moment. Then he said, “The thing that really bothers me… I don’t… I don’t think you’d understand.”

Jon frowned. Then, finally, softly, “Try me. You might be surprised.”

Martin swallowed. “I… I’m trans,” he blurted. “Like, I was… I had a girl’s name, when I was younger. Figured out I was a guy when I was a teenager, started hormones, and… well…” He took a deep breath. “My mum’s never approved, you know? She’s always been… difficult, she’s… sometimes she’ll… well, I mean, you know how parents will… say your name, right? Like, when you’ve… disappointed them.”

Jon’s frown deepened. He did not, in fact, know how parents said one’s name, but he could remember his grandmother saying Jonathan in tones of deepest disapproval when he’d come back from wandering off. So he nodded; he understood the feeling, at least.

Martin wiped at his eyes again. “The way she said my name… it made me hate my name. My deadname, I mean. But it… helped me realize I was trans, because when I thought about something else I’d want to be called, I came up with ‘Martin.’ And… and I’m kind of glad sometimes, that she… misgenders me, and refuses to call me Martin, because it means she’ll never, ever say it in that… disappointed tone. I have never regretted that choice, not once, until…”

Martin took in a long, shuddering breath, then straightened himself, looking Jon right in the eye. Like he knew what he was going to say wouldn’t go over well, but he had to say it. “The way you say my name, when you snap at me? It’s exactly like my mother says my deadname. And nobody has ever made me regret that choice. Not… ever.” He swallowed. “Until I met you.”

Jon stared at Martin for a long moment, horrified. He was non-binary himself, and yet he’d never changed his name, never even asked people to call him by different pronouns although he might have preferred it; he’d never had the courage to do so. He’d always been terrified of what people might think of him. Yet here was Martin, strong enough to change himself outwardly despite his mother’s disapproval, strong enough to keep coming in every day to deal with a boss who made him regret the name he’d chosen for himself.

In that moment, Jon felt very much like he did not deserve Martin Blackwood. That the Institute did not deserve Martin Blackwood. They would have to do better, somehow.

Finally he managed, “I’m… I didn’t know. I--” He curled his mouth in disgust. How did one respond to that? Do better? That was only a marginally acceptable platitude. “I will endeavor to change my tone.” He didn’t like that any better, but it was the best he could do.

Jon really, really wanted to offer Martin a hug. The man looked like he needed one. Tim would have offered a hug, workplace hugs could be acceptable… but, no, Jon was Martin’s boss, and Martin had just said how much he hated Jon--because if Jon reminded Martin of the mother who deliberately misgendered him, then he had to hate Jon--and who would want a hug from someone they hated?

There was something he could do to help, though. To pay Martin back, as it were. So he, too, straightened, and said, “Well. You were talking about how far your paycheck will stretch in Chelsea, but I think that will be quite unnecessary. Given that you encountered Jane Prentiss while in the line of duty, as it were, I think we can expense your essentials to the Institute without too much trouble.”

Martin’s eyes widened. “W-wait… won’t that… I mean… won’t Mr. Bouchard be… upset about that?”

Jon actually smirked. “Don’t you worry about Elias; I fully intend to take out my irritation about his habits as a supervisor on him instead of you from here on out.” Not directly, of course, but Elias would be irritated by the entire setup, and some petty part of Jon enjoyed that thought.

Martin was staring at Jon now. “I… I wouldn’t want you to… get in trouble…”

Jon waved a hand. “It’s the least I can do.” He stood. “Let’s get to the shops for toiletries before they close and then we can see about getting some clothing delivered. And, ahh, do you have any… prescriptions you’ll need…?” He was thinking about hormones. “I suppose I could send Tim ‘round to your flat, but I wouldn’t want to put him in danger either…”

Martin stood, hesitating. “I’ll… figure all that out. It’s alright. Really.”

Jon came around the desk to grasp Martin by the arms and look up at him, intently. It was the closest thing to a hug he’d let himself get to. “Martin,” he said, as gently as he could manage, with as much respect as he could manage, “you put yourself in danger because of the way your superiors at this Institute have treated you. Let me at least begin to partly repay that debt. Please.”

Martin was blinking down at him. “Uh… umm… aren’t we having… Mr. Bouchard repay the debt…?”

Jon smiled up at Martin as he dropped his arms. "Ahh, but we’re not going to ask Elias to come help clear out the breakroom. Can you imagine him moving boxes?” He could feel the smile edging into a grin. “His arms would break just from trying to pick one up.”

Martin had started to smile, hesitantly. That was what Jon had been going for; he hadn’t realized how much he actually liked Martin’s smile until he hadn’t been around for two weeks. “I-I mean… you’re not the biggest guy yourself… you might have the same problem.”

“Mmm, fair,” Jon replied, “but I am willing to scrub a floor if I must.”

Martin’s smile widened. “Y-yeah, I can’t imagine… Elias… scrubbing a floor.” He giggled, suddenly. “He probably pays people to do that stuff. He… he’d probably have been hopeless stuck in his flat for two weeks.”

Jon laughed at the mental image of Elias Bouchard stuck in a flat, living off canned meals, a laugh so full he actually threw his head back a bit. “Good lord, Elias, having to live off tinned peaches? Can... you... imagine?”

“H-he’d… probably… start shouting for Rosie.” Martin was giggling so hard he could barely get the words out. He put on a bad posh accent and said, “‘Rosie, why do we have all these tinned peaches? I did not approve this budget!’”

They both dissolved into helpless laughter, both reaching out to the other to hold themselves up. There was a moment, as the laughter waned, that their eyes met, and Jon felt something swoop and flutter in his gut. Martin had such a nice smile, and such a pleasant laugh, and it would be wonderful to have both around more often, and it was making him a little dizzy if he was being honest. When was the last time he’d felt that swoop and flutter? Georgie? Briefly, with Tim?

No, no, that was the laughter and the proximity. That was all. They were bonding over dislike of Elias. That was all.

At least he’d managed to clear the air.

Jon straightened, and kept smiling as he turned toward the door. “Come along, then, Martin,” he said, and again deliberately infused the word with as much respect as he could muster. “Let’s get to the shops.”

Martin nodded. “Thanks for this, Jon,” he said, and oh dear there was another swoop at the way Martin said his name. Had he always said it like that? Had Jon just not noticed? “Really. Thank you.”

Jon turned away to school his expression. This would not do. He was not going to let himself feel any more… swoops for a subordinate. It just wouldn’t do. No matter how nice of a smile he had. He did not have a crush on Martin, because he could not have a crush on Martin, and that was that.

Feeling a little better--it was always a relief, sorting out his emotions--Jon headed out to help Martin get settled into the Archives.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #jon sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #otp: one way or another together #fanfic #my fanfic #canon tma fic #send help i'm in too deep #i owe the discord server at least two more fics already #GUYS HELP

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whenihaveyouromione · 3 years ago

Text

When I Have You - Chapter 70

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you'd prefer!

If you'd like to join my Discord book club (in April we are reading Circe by Madeline Miller, feel free to join here.

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Chapter 70

Ron wiped his eyes of sleep and yawned as he stumbled into the kitchen. He hadn’t slept much the night before, the anticipation of the mission taking over his brain. Every time he felt himself drifting off, another thought, or a worry, would cross his mind and he’d be wide awake again, disturbing Hermione. It got so bad that she’d eventually gone to sleep in another room for the last few hours.

That had been the sign that he needed to fall asleep, and once he did, he had fallen into a fitful sleep until he’d woken again at six.

He was excited, nervous and uncertain all at the same time. Excited, because this was what he’d been hoping for since joining the Aurors, nervous because what if he messed up like the first time the Black Robes attacked, and uncertain because not so long ago he’d been questioning whether all this was what he actually wanted to do at all.

Those thoughts were still floating around in his mind, but they were weaker now with the turn of recent events.

Besides, he couldn’t afford to not have a job, and this was all he was qualified to do.

“Morning,” he mumbled to Hermione, heading straight for the coffee pot that Hermione had already made.

“Good morning,” Hermione replied, and Ron paused, turning back to face her. She seemed unusually cheerful today. “Excited to get rid of me, are you?” he asked with a smile.

She came over to kiss him, lingering just a little bit longer than she usually did. “No, I’m going to miss you.” She broke away, smiling up at him.

“Well, that was nice,” he replied. He was about to ask what had her in such a good mood if it wasn’t his impending absence when he remembered that Hermione had told him at the top of the week that she’d decided to take a day off for self care.

“How does it feel to not get up and have to go to work?” he asked her, turning back to the kitchen counter to pour himself some coffee.

“Weird,” Hermione said. “I’m a little worried about things not being done right and I’ll come back on Monday with a huge mess to clean up.”

“That’s what happens when you employ ex-Death Eaters,” Ron muttered, disguising his voice by taking a long sip from his mug. “What are your plans for the weekend without me, anyway? How are you going to spend your time?”

Hermione smiled. “Truthfully, I think I might just stay here and do… nothing. Maybe I’ll read, or I could go for a walk. That’d be nice.”

“Why am I not surprised? And you won’t miss me even a little?”

“Maybe just a little. But I’ll survive. I know you like to worry, but promise me you won’t worry about me. I’ll be perfectly fine. And when you get home, we’ll go out somewhere nice for dinner.”

“Are we going fancy?” Ron questioned.

“Maybe.” Her lips curled into a smile.

He leaned down and kissed her. “Well, I can’t wait.” He kissed her again and Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a deeper kiss. Ron set his coffee aside, his wife’s body against his a far better wake up. He was well and truly awake now.

“This no work business is good for you,” he said through kisses. “Take more days off.”

Hermione laughed against his mouth, but said nothing, and Ron was perfectly okay with that. He loved moments like these, where despite having been together for so long now, despite having lived together for most of that time, they could still be like this; act as if they had just started going out again and catching each other unaware in the kitchen.

She sighed against him, and much to Ron’s regret, pulled away.

“You’ll be late,” she said. “You don’t want to be late.”

“I’m okay with being late,” Ron replied. “They won’t miss me. Come upstairs with me.” He tugged her hand playfully, but Hermione didn’t budge. She just smiled up at him, something in her expression different than usual.

“You’re a lot more relaxed when you’re not in a hurry,” he noted.

She reached up to kiss him again. “When you get home on Sunday, I’ll make it a special welcome home, okay?”

“Okay,” Ron said, beaming. He was still holding onto her hand, which he squeezed tenderly. He smiled at her.

“You really will be late if you don’t go,” she said. “That’s not a good look on a mission you’ve personally been chosen for.”

“Yeah…” Ron looked out the window by the kitchen sink and stared into the garden. After a moment, he turned back to Hermione, who was watching him.

“You’re still not sure, are you?” she said.

“About what?”

“What you want to do.” It wasn’t a question. Of course it wasn’t. She knew him too well. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

“I’m pretty sure these days,” Ron answered with a nod. “But it’s hard to ignore the fact that just last week, I wanted to quit.”

She smiled. “Well, this mission will confirm it for you, one way or the other.”

“Yeah, well… as I said, I’m pretty sure. I feel good about this mission.” He kissed Hermione one more time. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to contact you while I’m away, but I’ll try, anyway. If not…” He kissed her again. “I’ll see you when I get back. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Hermione answered, smiling fondly at him.

Ron left after that, heading into the Auror Office to get his final details with Harry and Ryan. Then, he’d be off.

…

Apparently, rumour had it that the Black Robes were holed up somewhere near Swansea. But there was very little evidence to suggest this aside from a few reports of odd activities from the small magical community there.

However, it was the only lead they had, so it was where Ron, Harry and Ryan were sent. They had been put into a small Muggle pub by the water and given a bag of Muggle clothes to dress into so as to blend in. Ron had opened his bag and scoffed immediately at what he’d been provided with.

“This is not what Muggles wear.” He held up a lacy pink crop top that he actually had seen some people wear, but it was nothing he was going to put on.

Harry and Ryan both roared with laughter, each of them familiar with the Muggle dress code (more so than the Ministry, apparently).

“Honestly, they say they want to improve relations with Muggles, but they can’t be bothered to find out what they actually wear.” Ron tossed the top back into the back and rummaged through until he found something suitable to put on, which was a brown pair of trousers that was one half of a suit and a business shirt.

The others did the same, Harry in jeans and a t-shirt and Ryan having to settle for a too-tight shirt with a kitten printed on and jeans that stopped halfway down his calves.

“Well, don’t we just look a sight,” Ron observed, grinning between them. “Me, the business man, Harry the casual guy and you, Ryan…” He paused as Ryan fought back a laugh.

“We’re supposed to be discreet, but this will draw attention in two seconds flat,” Harry said.

“Well, I could wear the bathers instead?” Ryan asked with a grin.

“Maybe we should buy something more appropriate that blends in,” Ron said.

The others agreed, and after checking that all their magical devices they usually kept in their Auror robes were concealed, they set out into the city.

They were drawing attention very quickly, so they went into the nearest clothing shop and bought clothes similar to what Harry was wearing. They used Ministry money, and Robards could be angry at them spending it on clothes all he wanted to later. They needed to dress to remain hidden.

Now that they were actually in something comfortable, they pulled out the instructions that had been provided. The mission notes were hidden on parchment with spells similar to the ones Harry’s dad and his friends had used to create the Marauders Map many years ago. The contents could only be seen by the Aurors' eyes. Even if one of them lost the parchment, no one would be able to read it.

They huddled together, appearing to passersby as if they were lost tourists staring at a map.

“It says the only lead they have is a small, seemingly abandoned cottage on the outskirts near the north end of the city,” Harry said. “So, I guess we start there.”

Ron and Ryan agreed and they set off, weaving through the streets. It was a nice place, Swansea, and had they not been on an actual mission doing real Auror things, Ron would have appreciated it more. He liked to find places to take Hermione and exploring the Muggle world in general. He still found things that fascinated him, just when he’d thought he’d seen it all.

But he knew he had to stay focused today. Dates were for another time. If they could at least scout out where the Black Robes were hiding and discover a little bit of information on them, then it’d be considered a successful mission.

Though, as they walked, the large majority of his mind staying alert and focused, he allowed for a small part to wonder about how Hermione was spending her day off. He hoped she was relaxing and taking care of herself as she said she would. He’d hate to come home and learn that she’d gotten bored after a few hours and spent her weekend with her head buried in her work.

A shoulder brushed past him, causing him to stumble, and he swore loudly at the shock.

The person who’d run into him hurried off, looking embarrassed.

“Watch it,” Harry said. “You’re meant to be alert.”

“I was alert, I was just… alright, I’ll stay focused.”

He didn’t allow himself to think of Hermione after that, because apparently even small thoughts of her left him distracted and potentially vulnerable.

They walked through the city as if they were three friends on a morning stroll. Or, maybe, two sons and a dad, considering Ryan was significantly older than Harry and Ron. That would probably be more passable.

They kept their directions clutched discreetly in their hands until they slowed to a stop as they reached where the cottage supposedly stood. All Ron could see was a grass field.

They stared at it for a moment, before spotting a small copse of trees and ducking behind it.

They kept their eyes focused on the area, knowing that just because it couldn’t be seen didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Aurors were so thoroughly trained for every scenario, which is why accidents were so rare. They had much more experience than the average wizard, even before they started.

“What spells do you think they’ve used to hide it?” Harry asked.

“If they have,” Ryan reasoned. “I’ve been out plenty of times when there really hasn’t been anything there.”

Ron took out his wand and the others followed suit. “Revelio,” he said.

Nothing happened, but perhaps one person wasn’t strong enough to break the charms.

Harry and Ryan repeated the spell with Ron, and, in an instant, the field in front of them shimmered. It was only a flicker, but enough to confirm that something was there.

Harry looked at Ron. “Do you reckon it’s the same as Grimmauld Place?”

“Possibly,” Ron answered.

“What do you need to break those?” Ryan questioned.

“A Secret Keeper to tell you where the location was.”

Ryan swore softly. Those spells were near impossible to break. Even Voldemort had been unable to locate Harry’s parents until they’d been betrayed.

“So, basically,” Ryan said, “we need one of the prisoners to talk.”

“That’s proved fruitful,” Ron answered sarcastically. “And even if they talked, they may not be a Secret Keeper. They’re not the brightest, these Black Robes, but I doubt they’re dumb enough to make everyone one.”

Harry and Ryan seemed to share that sentiment. For a moment longer, they stared, and then Ryan turned. “At least we know there’s definitely something there. Getting to them will be the challenge.”

“Well, we have today and tomorrow to try,” Harry reasoned. “And if not… all Robards wanted was confirmation they were hiding out somewhere.”

“We don’t have proof of that yet,” Ryan reminded them. “We’ll have to scout it out. Watch to see if anyone reveals themselves. Record every movement down. We’ll take it in turns, two hours at a time.”

“I’ll go first,” Ron said without hesitating. He’d done enough damn watching in his life, what harm would a little more do?

Ryan nodded. “I’ll come to you when the two hours is up.” He dug into his pocket and extracted a tiny notebook. He tapped it with his wand, and it turned to its normal size. He passed it to Ron. “We’ll write everything in there.”

“Quill?” Ron questioned, accepting the notebook.

Ryan shook his head. “Write with your wand.”

Ron frowned. He’d not heard of anything like that before. If it was possible, why did Hogwarts still use quills? Why did they all still use quills?

“It’s… rare,” Ryan said. “Handy, though, because you never run out of pages. You just write and you can bring what you need up when requested using a spell.”

“What’s the spell?” Ron wanted to know.

“That, I won’t tell you.” Ryan smiled and then indicated the thickest tree. “Here will be a good place to camp. Again, every movement, every flicker, write it down, even if you don’t see anything or anyone.”

Ron nodded and tucked the notebook under his arm. “I’ll see you in two hours,” he said.

He watched the others Disapparate and plopped down behind the thickest tree. He positioned himself so he had a clear view of the field, but was hidden from their sight. He hoped that was the case, anyway.

And then he waited.

Surprisingly, he enjoyed sitting and waiting, because he was still doing something useful. If something eventuated from this, then it would be worth it. And even if it didn’t, then it would still be worth it, because they could take back to Robards that something was there. They just didn’t know what.

It was nearing midday now, warming as the sun rose higher in the sky. But he waited.

His two hours was nearly up when something distracted him from the corner of his eye. He focused all of his attention on that space, opening the notebook. He watched and waited, making sure he’d actually seen something. He was about to put it down to a flicker of the light when a dark shape appeared.

Ron tensed. It wasn’t a face he recognised, but the figure was dressed as casually as Ron was. It was a woman. She strolled out of the field seemingly from nowhere, hands in jean pockets and… whistling?

Ron watched her intently, trying to recall every feature of her face he could see from the distance, but he didn’t have much luck. He watched her walk across the field and onto the empty road by the field.

Then she Disapparated.

Ron blinked, staring for a moment, and then turned to the notebook and drew his wand. He’d practiced with it while he kept watch and apparently all he literally had to do was use his wand like a quill and his words would write down. They would disappear after a bit and he hoped that Ryan knew how to get them back.

He was midway through writing when Ryan appeared beside him.

“Anything?”

“There’s definitely something there,” Ron said, climbing to his feet. “I saw someone leave. A woman. She looked young.”

“Where did she go?”

“She Disapparated over there.” Ron indicated the street. “I didn’t follow.”

Ryan nodded, accepting the notebook. “Well, we’re on the right track, at least. You go back to the pub and clean up. Harry will relieve me in two more hours.”

“Good luck,” Ron said.

When he got back to the pub, Harry was sat on one of the beds. “Well?” he asked. “Anything?”

Ron nodded and recounted what he’d seen. Harry seemed satisfied.

“So, it wasn’t a wasted mission,” he said. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Ron confessed. “Though, I’ll admit to just being glad I'm not sitting in the office with paperwork.”

“That, too.” Harry grinned. “So, I suppose while Ryan is on watch, we should get some more planning done. How about we start the report to take back to Robards on Sunday?” Ron nodded, smiling. Oh, how good it felt to be actually acting like an Auror.

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wistfulcynic · 4 years ago

Text

from one minute to the next

A little something inspired by the prompts @winterbythesea posted here and here and here. This is not those prompts exactly (nor is it what I outlined on the discord, sorry guys) but I think it carries the same lighthearted dumbass energy as they do.

Also, Killian Jones does not know what a ‘date’ is. Fight me, show.

Summary: Emma’s not quite sure how it happened, but somehow she finds herself going from single and solitary in the city one minute to smoothly co-parenting with her ex, living with a pirate, and at home in a town full of storybook characters the next.

Home. She never thought she’d have one of those.

This is the story of how she got there.

(also no! curse! renaissance! 3B divergence without Pan’s curse)

<3k words Rated T

AO3

from one minute to the next:

Emma was never entirely certain how it happened.

One minute she was telling Neal she didn’t want to get back together with him, that it was just too late for them now, and he was looking sad but in a resigned sort of way, as though he regretted the truth of her words while still recognising that they were true.

“For what it’s worth,” he said. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to August. I shouldn’t have left you like that. If I hadn’t…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. They both knew how different things would have been if he hadn’t left her. And they both knew that it was far too late to undo what had been done. The only option left was to move on.

“We found each other again, though,” she reminded him. “And we found Henry.”

“You mean Henry found us.”

“Yeah, that’s probably more accurate.”

They shared a chuckle, and for the briefest moment the years fell away and she remembered why she’d fallen for him. And for the first time since she’d run him down in a New York alleyway, Emma looked at Neal and she felt hopeful.

“Anyway,” she said, “Henry wants both of us in his life. He deserves that, and I think he needs it. And I think for it to work we need to try to be friends.”

“No hard feelings, then?” Neal asked, hopefully.

Emma hesitated.

What did she feel for Neal? There was still affection, of course there was—the stubborn remnants of a passionate first love that she doubted would ever fully die. There was resentment too, a lot of it, and a lot of hurt. A fair bit of anger. So yeah, there were some hard feelings, but there also wasn’t much point in attempting to hash any of them out with Neal. Not when they needed to move forward.

She produced a smile, slightly stiff at the edges but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Sure. No hard feelings.”

Neal’s face broke into a grin, the wide, happy kind that crinkled his eyes and once upon a time would have sent Emma’s heartbeat into overdrive. Now it just made her think of another crinkly grin, one far rarer and all too often tinged with sadness.

“Neal,” she said. “I’ve got to go.”

The next minute she was at the docks, breathing deeply and gathering her courage, looking up at the Jolly Roger and hoping Hook—Killian—would be there, in his cabin, maybe with his flask and one of the books that lined his shelves. More than once these past few weeks she’d caught him tucked up in a corner somewhere, reading, and Belle informed her that he actually had a library card.

“He didn’t have the required ID,” she’d said with a little smirk. “But I think we all know who he is.”

Emma was pretty sure she did know that, now, and the knowledge propelled her forward, onto the deck of the ship then down to his cabin where she knocked firmly on his door and shivered a bit when his voice called for her to enter.

He looked up, surprise registering on his face followed swiftly by the delight he could never quite conceal when he saw her.

“Swan,” he purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Emma’s heart was pounding and her throat dry, and honestly it was ridiculous to be this nervous, it wasn’t like he was going to say no.

“I’m, um. Heretoaskyouout,” she blurted.

He frowned. “To what?”

Emma drew a deep breath and tried again. “Ask you out.”

“Out of where?”

“What? No. What?”

“Where do you want me to go out of? This is my ship.”

Emma resisted the urge to smack herself on the forehead. Of course he didn’t know what ‘ask you out’ meant, he was like a thousand years old. “No, no, I mean out on a date,” she explained. Tried to explain anyway, though his confusion just grew more apparent. “Like, to dinner or something. You and me. Out.”

“Ah. Ah.”

She watched as he turned the unfamiliar phrase over in his head, watched his eyes brighten with interest at learning a new thing, then when he finally realised fully what it meant she watched a rosy pink flush creep across his cheekbones and up to the tips of his ears.

He swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was gruff. “Let me be certain I understand. You want us, as in you and me, to go someplace and eat dinner together. Just—just us?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“And in this realm that is called a date?”

“Yeah.”

“And am I to understand that there are… romantic connotations to these dates?”

‘Romantic connotations’, she thought, for fuck’s sake, and did her best to ignore the fluttery feeling she always got in her belly whenever he broke out the big words. Aloud she said “Yeah.”

“I see.” He swallowed again. “And when do you propose we have this date?”

“Um. Tonight?”

Aaand there it was, that wide and crinkly grin that made the blood rush far too recklessly through her veins, this time with no sadness lurking behind his eyes. None at all.

“Tonight it is, then,” he said.

One minute Emma was alone and telling herself she was content to be so, the next she had parents and a son and an ex who was almost a friend, and she was dating. Dating Hook, which she told herself firmly was only weird if she thought too hard about it. She wasn’t actually dating Captain Hook, of course she wasn’t. That would be ridiculous. No, she was dating Killian Jones—who was surprisingly, endearingly, sweet and nervous about it at first, like he wasn’t entirely certain her interest was real and was doing his utmost to tread carefully.

Emma didn’t want him always on his best behaviour, though, and while Killian was wonderful she knew that both of them still needed at least a little bit of Hook. And so it was that after their third date, when Henry was with Neal and Emma had made it very clear to her parents that they were not to expect her home before morning, that she and Killian stumbled back to his ship tipsy on rum but drunk on each other, and she made certain he understood exactly how interested she was.

It was very. She was very interested.

And when they awoke the next morning and she groaned at the glaring sunlight and pressed her face into his neck, muttering that it was too damn early and she needed caffeine, he ran his fingers through her hair and informed her he had a coffeemaker in his galley.

She pulled back and blinked at him. “You what?”

He flushed slightly, though with a pleased grin. “I asked Granny and she showed me what I needed, and helped me buy it.”

“But why? You don’t drink coffee.”

He shrugged. “It’s growing on me. And besides, I thought—well, I hoped—that you might want to spend some time aboard ship in the future and, well, I want you to feel comfortable here and to have the things you like.”

She stared at him for a moment as his flush deepened, then surged forward and kissed him, wrapped herself tightly around him and kissed him and kissed him until they were both breathless and the coffee forgotten until much, much, much later.

Another minute passed and they were marking six months together. Emma had rented a place of her own, nothing fancy but hers, and she and Killian were spending most of their nights there. Her bed was bigger than the bunk in his cabin, softer and with actual springs, and her parents, Granny, and Ruby had all chipped in to buy her an espresso machine. Small but serviceable, like her apartment. Granny taught both her and Killian how to use it—and honestly, Emma thought, you haven’t truly lived until you’ve seen a shirtless pirate with a hook for a hand whip up a latte on a Sunday morning—and she was, tentatively, happy.

Very happy.

She didn’t see too much of Neal. He spent time with Henry of course and with Belle, renovating the pawn shop and brightening it a bit, removing what traces they could of the Dark One’s influence. She also knew he was volunteering at the convent where the Lost Boys lived, helping them get accustomed to life in Storybrooke and make it their home.

He might also, she suspected, have become somewhat more than friends with Tink.

And then one night Emma and Killian had dinner at a new place by the docks, where they gorged on seafood and drank a bit too much wine and decided, for safety and for old times’ sake, to spend the night on the Jolly Roger rather than trying to get home.

Home. She had a home now, and a man who as good as lived there with her. She should really get around to asking him to live there officially, she knew. She kept meaning to. She wanted to, she truly did. But as conversations go that one felt so weighty and so significant that she wanted to be sure to do it right and so in the end she’d done nothing at all—nothing except feel that little bit more guilty each time Killian asked her politely if it was all right for him to stay.

Yes, she wanted to tell him. Stay forever. Soon she would.

They stumbled onto the ship and to his cabin, foolish and messy in a way they hadn’t been for a while. Emma realised she had missed this a bit, the dark, almost feral look in Killian’s eyes when he was just this shade of drunk and she was naked in his bed on his ship.

“You are… so beautiful, Emma,” he growled against her throat as his fingers tangled in her hair. “Have I told you how you steal my breath away?”

“Not for at least an hour,” she teased.

“Remiss of me.”

“Mmm. However will you… ohhh… make it up to me?”

He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Oh, I have one or two ideas.”

They woke late the next morning as was their habit on a Sunday, and Emma groaned as the light pierced her eyelids and straight through her throbbing head.

“Killian.” She poked him in the ribs.

“Mmphh,” he replied.

“You still have your… thing. Right? Coffee thing? In the galley?”

“Aye.” He rubbed his eyes and blinked. “I believe there’s aspirin in there as well.”

Emma turned her poking finger into a caressing one, stroking him with the tip of it. “Killian,” she said again, in a wheedling tone.

“It’s your turn to make the coffee and you know it, Swan,” he replied, in his pirate captain voice.

She huffed. He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine.” She flung the covers off and rolled out of bed, snatched his shirt from the floor and threw it on, buttoning it just enough to keep it from flapping when she walked. “I’m guessing you don’t have milk though.”

“Certainly not any in a drinkable state. Though there should be some of that horrid creamer.”

She perked up. “Cinnamon?”

“What else?”

In the galley Emma found the coffeemaker and an open packet of coffee that smelled surprisingly fresh given how long it had been since they’d last slept here. There was also the cinnamon creamer, unopened, and a big bottle of aspirin. One minute she was pulling everything off the shelves and turning to set them on the table, and the next the door was swinging open and a person walking through it, and Emma found herself colliding sharply with a bare chest. A familiar bare chest. A familiar bare chest that was not Killian’s.

“Neal!” she shrieked, dropping everything in her arms. “What the fuck!”

“Emma!” He looked equally stunned. “What the—what are you doing here?”

“Here on my—on Hook’s ship, you mean?” My boyfriend’s ship, she wanted to say, but calling a 300-year-old pirate a boyfriend was something she still couldn’t do, however objectively true it may be.

“The ship he said I could use whenever I needed it?” countered Neal. “Yeah, that one!”

“He said you could use his ship?”

“Uh huh, he did. When I, you know.” A shifty look crept onto his face. “Wanted privacy.”

“Priva-oh!” Emma’s eyes widened as the penny dropped. Neal was still living in his father’s house. The house where Belle also lived. “Um. I see.”

“Yeah.” Neal didn’t meet her eyes. “But why are you here, don’t you have your own place now?” he demanded. “I thought Hook lived with you.”

“Not officially,” she muttered. “And we, um, had a bit to drink last night at that new seafood place and you know.” She shrugged. “The ship was closer.”

“Huh. Well that explains those noises I heard last night.”

Emma was just about to ask him what the fuck that was supposed to mean when the door opened again and a voice called “Why don’t I smell coff—oh! Um. Hi Emma.”

Emma pressed her thumbs against her temples. “Hey, Tink.”

The fairy was dressed identically to how Emma herself was, only the shirt she wore was Neal’s. An old Metallica tee because of course.

“Well,” said Tink. “That explains those noises we heard.”

Neal nodded.

“What noises—” Emma began, then the door opened again.

“Did you find everything, love—oh. Er.” Killian appeared in the room wearing only his jeans and without his hook. He scratched behind his ear. “Hello, friends and enemies.”

“Hook,” said Tink and Neal.

“Killian,” said Emma. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You never told me you were letting Neal stay here.”

“Ah. I did offer him use of the first mate’s quarters whenever he was seeking a bit of privacy, yes. If you remember, love, my quarters proved invaluable in that respect when you were still living with your parents.”

Emma felt her cheeks grow hot. “Yeah,” she muttered.

“I merely thought Neal and Tink could do with a bit of the same benefit. And you know the Jolly gets lonely if she’s left by herself for too long. Although,” Killian favoured Neal and Tink with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, “I did make that offer quite some time ago now. And I don’t believe I said anything about staying here.”

“Yeah, well.” Neal’s face took on that belligerent look he got when he was feeling defensive. “I don’t want to move out of Papa’s place and leave Belle alone.”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma demanded.

Everyone stared at her. “What?” asked Neal.

“Belle’s seeing Ruby.”

“Ruby?”

“Yeah. For like three months now. Ruby’s constantly moaning about how they can’t stay at her place because Granny’s got wolf hearing and they can’t go to Belle’s because it’s full of you. Trust me, Belle will be okay if you move out.”

“Oh,” said Neal blankly. “Well. Fuck.”

Emma looked around the room, at her current boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend who was also her current boyfriend’s ex… something, all of them in varying states of dishevelment, hangover, and undress, and she started to laugh.

“Yeah,” she said. “That about sums it up.”

So Emma never did quite figure out how it happened, but somehow she ended up with a home of her own in a fairy tale town with fairy tale friends and a pirate boyfriend, where one minute she was drinking coffee in a ship’s galley with a group of people who knew each other far too intimately for anyone’s comfort and the next her ex and his girlfriend were her neighbours and her pirate was living at her place for good—at their place, now—and her son was bouncing happily between the two apartments save at least one night a week that he spent at Regina’s. She and Neal co-parented better than she could ever have hoped, and every morning she woke up to blue eyes warm with love and lattes made precisely how she liked them.

And, well. Emma’s happiness wasn’t tentative anymore.

She was happy. Really happy. Truly happy. So happy that when she came home one evening to find the kitchen smoke alarm shrieking and Henry teetering on a stool waving a towel at it as Killian and Neal grappled with some foamy, hissing, smoking substance on the countertop, she wasn’t even mad.

“What the hell do you idiots think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Ems!”

“Mom!”

“Swan!”

“It’s not what it looks like!” they cried in unison.

Emma shook her head. “I’m going next door,” she said. “To have a beer with Tink. This,” she gestured vaguely at the room, “had better be dealt with by the time I get back.”

As she turned and headed back out the door, the last thing she heard were three furious voices.

“Now look what you’ve done!”

“What I’ve done! It was your idea!”

“And I still don’t have a science project!”

Emma grinned, and shut the door firmly behind her.

---

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @mariakov81 @stahlop @kmomof4 @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @shireness-says @thesschesthair @courtorderedcake @everything-person @katie-dub

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #3b canon divergence #cs canon divergence #no curse renaissance #captain swan #captain swanfire #tinker bae #or whatever tf neal and tink's ship name is #it should be tinker bae my dudes #anyway #this is all very silly #but it should make you laugh #happy friday #profdanglaisstuff #from one minute to the next

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years ago

Text

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 3

Masterlist / Playlist for reading in this chapter, the reader is fighting an infection and making a furry friend.

CW for phsyical injury, bodily fluids, extreme pain, loss of consciousness and being pinned down by someone (this sounds terrible but I promise it gets more fluffy halfway through!)

This beautiful screencap of Valka was shared in our discord and I don’t know who took it, please let me know if you know the artist so I can credit them and check out their other work!

Healing

You woke up crying, the pain in your cheek threatening to split your head in half. Your cheek was wet from your tears and sticky from the wound that had been seeping all night. Eda stirred next to you and you both stared at each other in utter horror. William’s daughter looked like a corpse. Her cheeks and eyes had sunken deep into her skull and her face was a greyish color. You probably didn’t look any better, if her shock was any indication.

The cell opened and you got your first round of water and bread for the day. The man feeding you gave you a pitiful look but did not say anything about your state. There was still alcohol on his breath and he looked annoyed about his task, probably wishing he was still in bed like the other warriors. You did not dare to ask for help.

You drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours as the last few other prisoners were taken to Randvi and questioned about their knowledge and alliances. There was an aura of hopelessness in your cell. No one was speaking, everyone was staring at their feet and flinching at any loud noise. Eda ate a piece of bread and got terrible stomach cramps but managed to keep it down. At least one good thing.

People were going in and out of the longhouse, you could hear horses outside, swords clashing in the distance - probably training - and a few servants sweeping the big hall and cleaning up last night’s mess. Suddenly something small and white moved into your field of vision. Were you dreaming again? You were sure you had a fever by now.

But this was real, Eda saw it too. She had straightened up next to you, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. A scrawny white cat was cautiously circling the cell and apparently scouring for leftovers. You quickly skimmed the ground for anything you could offer the little animal. And yes, there was a big crumb right next to your heel. You carefully pushed it closer to you with your foot and managed to get it all the way into your hands’ reach.

Quietly whispering and purring to the cat, you tried to lure her closer. And sure enough, the little white lady slowly came closer to your hands. You stayed completely still and held out the crumb on your open palm. Carefully, the cat stuck its paw through the bars and pulled the crumb back toward her. She devoured it right away. Softly meowing, she looked up at you, asking for more. You smiled at the sweet animal, a silver lining on this terrible day in this terrible cell.

“Birna! Where are you, you little rascal?” a familiar raspy voice called out, this time in the sweetest singsong, making you smile even more. The cat did not move from its spot next to you, instead meowing back louder to call to her mistress. You slowly stretched out your hands and she watched them curiously, beginning to purr as you drew your fingertips over her soft fur.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Eivor rounding the corner, wearing nothing but a thick grey knee-length tunic and fur boots. She froze in her tracks when she saw the scene before her. You quickly pulled your hands back, thinking she was angry at you for petting the cat. She suddenly rushed to the guard that had fallen asleep on his chair, slapping his chest with the back of her hand and ripping the keys to your cell from his grasp. He jerked awake, but Eivor had already opened the door and squatted down next to you.

“Fuck the gods.” She sounded astonished and extremely worried at the same time. “Damn you, Dag, how did you not see this? Her wound has festered!”

Eivor’s voice got louder and angrier with every word. She placed a hand on your forehead.

“She’s burning up! I’m taking her to Valka.” With one swift motion, she had unbound your hands and picked you up. You hung in her arms, too weak to move. As she carried you out of the pen, she shot Dag a warning look and hissed: “We’ll talk about this later.”

The tall warrior almost ran out of the longhouse, whispering to you to stay with her and that she would take you to the best healer she knew.

“Don’t you worry, little bird. You just have to fight and recover. I will take care of you from now on.”

You arrived at a smaller hut and entered the dimly lit room that smelled of burned incense and freshly cut wood. A small, black-haired woman with a beautiful headdress and impressive facial tattoos leaped to her feet when she saw you come in.

“Oh Eivor, what have you brought me now? Lay her down here.” She motioned to her bed, a simple wooden plank with a sack of straw and a number of furs. Eivor laid you down gently, kneeling next to you and squeezing your hand.

“She was struck by her master two days ago. It must have gotten this bad last night.”

Valka crouched down and inspected your tender flesh. You fainted several times as she prodded at the wound but Eivor always called you back to her. The healer was now assembling herbs, burning something, and heating up water in a kettle over her fireplace. She ground up some sort of root and a few herbs and threw the mixture into the boiling water. Then she took a clean cloth and ordered Eivor to place the hot kettle on a wooden plate next to the bed.

She dipped the cloth into the hot, sour-smelling brew that stung in your eyes and nose, then she pressed it on your cheek. It felt like she had stabbed a dagger into your skull, the pain ringing in your ears and making you see nothing but burning white. You were too exhausted to scream, fading in and out of consciousness. Instead, your body started violently shaking and Valka yelled at Eivor to pin you down before dunking the cloth into the scalding hot liquid and repeating the procedure again and again. Thankfully, you lost consciousness completely after the third time. The last thing you felt was Eivor’s big, warm hands on your upper arms and her knee on your hip, holding you down as you convulsed in pain.

When you woke up for the second time today, you were still lying on Valka’s bed. You wore a long linen tunic and the women seemed to have washed you, freeing you from the sweat and dirt that had accumulated in the last days. The room smelled better than before, the kettle was over the fire again and the small woman stirred dried flowers and other herbs into the water. Eivor was sitting next to you and wringing out another piece of cloth over a bucket. You braced yourself for more pain, but the water was cool and the blonde gently wiped your forehead and healthy cheek, your neck, and upper chest, humming softly to herself. She dampened the towel anew and folded it to lay it on your forehead. It was only now she realized you were awake.

“Little bird.” She laid a hand on your cheek. “The worst is over.”

Valka came over with a mug and put it down next to you. She gave you an exhausted but encouraging smile.

“I apologize for hurting you this much. The infection was spreading across your face, I needed to draw it out. You will need at least a week to heal.”

You raised a hand to your face, but Eivor stopped you from touching yourself.

“We will put on a bandage later. Now there is just a salve,” Valka explained, “and you will have to drink this daily to help your body fight from the inside and give you strength.”

She handed you the clay jug and you carefully raised it to your lips, taking a small sip of the concoction. It tasted sweet and earthy, immediately spreading warmth throughout your body and giving you the strength to fully open your eyes again. The wolf-kissed smiled at you.

“I will leave you in Valka’s care for now. Soon I will take you to my hut and look after you there,” she promised. “I need to go and attend to important business, but I will bring you both supper later.” She took your hand again and softly rubbed her thumb over your knuckles, then she raised it to her lips and placed a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand.

Before leaving, she put her hands on Valka’s shoulders and sincerely thanked her for helping you. Then she gave you a last smile and left.

The healer forced you to drink three jugs of her wonderful tea, then she helped you outside to relieve yourself and brought you back to bed, rubbing the salve into your cheek again and ordering you to sleep for now. The ointment numbed your skin and made the pain bearable. Taking a final look at the sun setting behind the mountains, you drifted away to sleep again.

When Eivor brought bread and stew later, you felt much better already. The two Viking women sat on the floor next to you as you ate together. The stew was made with thick chunks of fatty meat and big slices of root vegetables, filling your stomach for the first time in days. Eivor told Valka about the raid; apparently the healer had not attended the celebrations yesterday. When the warrior told Valka about Dag's terrible state last night and this morning, the dark-haired woman just shook her head about this much exorbitance and stupidity.

Even though you were still exhausted and not fully present at times, it was nice to sit with the two women and listen to them exchange stories and opinions, talk about plans for the future and a woman Valka was thinking about pursuing. The name Randvi caught your attention at one point, but with a meaningful look from Eivor, the topic was changed.

As it got dark and you couldn't stop yourself from yawning, they debated what to do with you this night. Valka offered to sleep on the floor so you could stay here, but Eivor argued that she had a bed large enough and far more comfortable for the both of you. The healer admitted that you seemed to be stable for now and made Eivor promise to call for her immediately if anything happened with you.

She handed Eivor a bag with the ointment, a few clean bandages, and the herb blend for the tea you should drink for the next few days. The blonde slung the pouch over her shoulder, then she approached you with a suddenly shy smile.

“We haven’t asked you for your opinion on this at all. Do you even want to sleep in my hut?” she asked timidly, seeming almost nervous as she waited for your answer.

You shook your head and smiled. “Eivor, I’m just glad to be out of that terrible cell. I will sleep on the floor if I need to.”

“Little bird, tonight you will fly into the land of dreams on the softest wings. This bed is fit for a queen.”

You held up your arm and wrapped it around the back of her neck as she picked you up again. Valka accompanied you outside, then she said her goodbyes and left for the longhouse. Eivor carried you in the other direction and used her knee to open the door to her big wooden cottage. Red rugs covered the wooden floorboards and a big torch next to the entrance lit the room, drenching it in flickering golden light. Her bed really was gigantic, with intricate carvings on the headbord and furs draped over the mattress.

The warrior gently lowered you onto her bed and laid down an enormous quilt over your body. She lit a candle on her side of the bed and put out the torch. Then she sat down on a big trunk and took off her boots, placing them neatly at the foot of the wooden bedframe. Slowly, trying not to disturb you, she laid down next to you and covered herself with a thin blanket. You raised your head.

“Won’t you get cold?”

Eivor looked at you in surprise, probably having assumed you were already sleeping. She gave you her wonderfully crooked smile.

“I’m very hot blooded. I don’t mind the cold.”

“I admire that,” you sighed. “I’m always freezing.”

She turned toward you and rested her head on her arm, stretching out her other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. Her fingers stayed on your forehead for a moment.

“Your fever has dropped. Good,” she mumbled, “you’ll be better tomorrow. Sleep now, little bird.”

Later at night you woke up from the sound of your own chattering teeth. The cold had entered the hut and taken a hold of you with its icy fingers; your whole body was cramping up and shaking.

You looked over at the warrior lying next to you. Eivor was sleeping soundly, her bare arms thrown over her head and one leg sticking out from under the blanket. She seemed to be immune to the bitter cold.

There was no way you could fall asleep like this, freezing and shivering, your jaw hurting from trying to stop the chattering. You had to take the plunge. Slowly, you turned over to Eivor, scooting closer to her and lifting the quilt to come in contact with her warm body. She was radiating heat.

You snuggled up to her, laying your head on her shoulder and resting your arm on her chest. She flinched at your weight on her, opening her eyes to make sure there was no danger. You two shared a silent look, then she smiled and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in closer and warming you up so quickly that you were asleep again within minutes.

The next morning you were woken by the bustle outside, animal noises mixing with the blacksmith’s hammer and people talking as they walked past. A rooster crowed and reminded you of your old home in Williamsburg. You were still lying close to Eivor, your head in the crook of her arm and your leg intertwined with hers. She hummed in her sleep as she felt you stirring and pulled you in, not allowing you to move.

You noticed that your head wasn’t throbbing anymore. Your cheek still felt tender and the wound stung, but you were sure the salve and the herbal infusion Valka had given you would get you through the day.

Eivor moved again, turning her torso toward you and holding you even closer to her chest.

“How did you sleep, little bird?” she mumbled into your hair. “Did I share enough of my warmth with you?”

You pressed your forehead into the hollow spot beneath her collarbone and inhaled her wonderful scent, a mixture of herbs, tree bark, snow days and a faint musk reminding you of the deer on William’s pasture.

“Without you, I would have frozen to death last night,” you murmured back. She enveloped you with her strong, hot body while her fingers stroked your hair absentmindedly.

Suddenly, the blonde drew her head back to look down at you.

“How is your face? Better?”

You nodded.

“It still burns, but I think the worst is over.”

Eivor let go of you and stretched her arm toward the bag on the wooden trunk, almost falling off the bed when she finally caught it. You grabbed her hand just in time to pull her back up, both of you having to laugh at her clumsiness. She opened the small jar with the rich yellow cream and dipped two fingers into the mixture. Careful not to press down too hard, she rubbed the salve into your cheek, all the way from your jaw to your temple. As she massaged the little dent there, you closed your eyes and leaned into her touch.

After a while, Eivor got up and put on leather pants and a coat over her tunic. She lit the fireplace so you would be warm all day and slipped on her boots, promising to return soon with breakfast and a kettle to make your tea.

You let yourself fall back onto the pillow and pulled the quilt all the way up to your nose. This day promised to be a lot more comfortable than the last ones. There was not going to be much to do except lay around and wait for Eivor to check in on you every once in a while. Maybe she would give you something to do - you could mend clothes for her or sweep the hut or prepare food for later.

It seemed terribly unfair to you all of a sudden, you sitting here warm and fed while Eda and the others were still biding their time in their cell. It was not like you had done anything to gain anyone’s favor, Eivor just seemed to take to you a lot and your injury had drastically changed your path here. You wondered what the others were doing now and what they would be doing in the next few weeks. Eivor hadn’t taken them here without reason, there had to be a purpose to all of this.

A noise at the window made you look up. It was Birna, the white cat from yesterday, shooting you a demanding look through the gaps in the wooden grid that let in some light without leaving a big hole in the wall. Right, no glass windows. No wonder you had been freezing last night. Careful not to lose your balance, you got up from the bed and took the grid from the small opening. You were delighted to see that it had started snowing outside. Birna gave you a satisfied meow and squeezed through the window, immediately heading for the bed and curling up right where you had sat. The spot was probably still warm.

After placing the grid back in the window frame, you joined Birna on the mattress. She stretched and rubbed her tiny head against the back of your hand, demanding to be petted, and you humbly obliged. The two of you sat together for a while, the little lady purring in response as you made her compliments and told her about the cats back at Williamsburg.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. This was strange - why would Eivor knock? To make sure you weren’t indecent? She had already seen you naked yesterday, although it would fit her to still be all honorable and courteous.

Another knock.

“Eivor, are you there? It’s Randvi.”

Your breath caught in your throat and Birna looked up at you, indignant at your sudden refusal to pet her. You did not dare to move or say anything.

“Listen, I know we quarreled yesterday, but does this mean you won’t speak to me now? I just want to talk.” She sounded desperate, knocking harder this time. Fuck.

For a moment, there was silence and you started to hope she had left.

Then the handle turned and the door opened.

Randvi stood in the door, tall and beautiful as ever, her hand still on the doorknob. In a matter of seconds, her face went through surprise, confusion, realization, anguish and then nothing but wrath. You sat stone still, staring at her.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet and ice cold.

“So that’s how it is. I understand now.” She laughed but there was no humor in her voice, only bitterness.

Before you could say anything, she had turned on the spot and slammed the door shut. You could hear her steps fade away on the path to the longhouse and finally dared to release the breath you had been holding this entire time.

Birna had jumped at the loud noise, but now she rolled herself up in your lap and began to purr again. You let your head fall back against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling, trying to gather your thoughts.

Jesus Christ.

You jerked up when you heard steps at the door again, but this time it was Eivor that entered. There were snowflakes in her hair, her face was flushed from the cold and she had brought a well-filled jute bag and a dark metal cauldron. A bright smile was on her face as she stomped her feet to get rid of the snow on her boots and threw the bag on the bed.

“First snow!” she pointed out the obvious and took off her coat before letting herself fall onto the bed next to you and giving Birna a big smooch, which the cat took with an annoyed grumble.

“How did she get in here?” Eivor laughed and ruffled the cat’s fur. “She doesn’t like the snow. The little Viking princess is a sensitive one. She stays in here all winter and complains until the thaw comes.”

You cleared your throat. “I let her in through the window. But…” Eivor seemed to finally sense something was wrong and gave you a questioning look.

“Randvi was here.”

The blonde closed her eyes and sighed, then she blinked up at the ceiling just as you had done minutes earlier.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s complicated.” She shook her head.

You bit your lip and gave her an apologetic look. “She seemed displeased.”

This was a vast understatement, but you did not want to get involved in this, whatever it was.

“I’ll talk to her later. This has nothing to do with you,” Eivor promised. Exactly.

You shared a breakfast consisting of bread, goat cheese and dried fruit while the water over the fireplace had started boiling and the herbs inside filled the entire room with their pleasant smell.

When you had finished your meal and started sipping your brew, Eivor propped herself up on her elbow next to you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Eivor?”

With her fingertips she drew patterns into Birna’s fur, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“Do you think you could take another look at the map? I am planning on raiding Fort Winton tomorrow or the day after. The time is right, we are experienced in fighting in the snow and cold. I want to get this done.”

You swallowed hard, thinking of the life you had led before. If you supported this raid, you were betraying all your previous affiliations and fealties. Winton’s Steward was a terrible man. He had scared you when you were younger and he scared you now. You were sure that there was not a single person under his rule that enjoyed his company or thought him a good sovereign. You took a deep breath.

“I will. But under one condition: I do not wish to be seen as subject to English rule and fealty. I owe them nothing. I will give you all my knowledge and skill and I will swear my loyalty to you, only you. I will no longer be an English prisoner but your servant and by extension, a part of this clan.”

Eivor listened to you intently and considered your proposition for a moment, then she nodded.

“I would not have let you come into my house and sleep next to me if I did not trust you already. I do not know how, but it sometimes feels like destiny brought us together.” Her hand moved toward yours, then she pulled it back and continued to pet Birna.

“I will speak to the council about this tonight. Tomorrow you shall help us strategize, so we can leave at first light the next day.”

You agreed, stretching out a hand to stroke Birna’s fur and just so happening to brush over Eivor’s knuckles with your fingertips. Both of you had to smile, feeling as if you shared a secret, one that had not fully revealed itself to you yet.

The warrior actually had a few tasks for you that you could take care of in bed: a few of her tunics that had tears and holes, a pair of pants which had ripped at the back - she went crimson red and mumbled something about a drinking contest and a wrestling match - and an old fur coat she had grown out of but gave to you to mend and wear.

You spent the day with Birna, sewing and patching up Eivor’s clothes while telling the cat stories about Delia and Henry and your favorite adventures from your childhood. Eivor came by later, dropping off some more fruit to pass the time until supper. She seemed slightly irritated, but when she saw your work on her clothes she rejoiced.

“You’re an artist, little bird! With you by my side, I will soon look like a queen!”

You laughed and clutched the fur coat to your chest.

“I will take this as my first payment, then. Thank you. Maybe I will finally be warm for once.”

“Y/N, are you telling me you were cold last night? You must be made of ice if my heat could not pierce you,” Eivor teased you playfully.

“Oh, it most certainly did. It seems you are the only one capable of doing so.” You smiled at her. She grabbed your hand and rubbed her thumbs over your palm.

“I need to go now and meet the council. I will come back to warm you later.” She stroked Birna’s fur one last time, then she got up and in leaving threw you a last look that sent blood into your cheeks and made your stomach flutter.

“I long for it,” you whispered after she had closed the door behind her.

#eivor x reader #f!eivor #f!eivor x reader #lady eivor #lady eivor x reader #ac valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolf-kissed #eivor fanfiction #angst #fluff

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simp-4-kylo · 4 years ago

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can i get a softie!kylo ren x reader? the reader got back from a dangerous mission (he couldn't go with) and almost gets killed by a saber. while at med bay kylo rushes in and crawls in bed with her. lots of fluff. softie supreme leader!!

Can’t lose you

Warnings/tags: softie!Kylo, mentions of war/fighting, blood, injured reader, mentions of needles, fluff, uhh Kylo Ren is nice (in this one), lmaooo

Word Count: 1,264

A/N: I am slowly making my rounds to the requests, trust me they’re all in the works!!! I actually really love the idea of the reader getting hurt and Kylo being all soft. I lowkey want to make a discord server where we as star wars fans/adam fans can just vibe together. Also, I’m totally not writing this in the middle of english class #SorryNotSorry haha. (also I have def used that gif before-)

The rush of cold air from the docking bay rushed into the shuttle causing each wound to slightly burn. The smell of burnt skin and clothes filled your nose, it couldn’t quite leave. That sickening smell mixed with the smell of cleaner and oli. The docking bay was jammed packed with shuttles landing from the recent mission, people working on different tie-fighters, prisoners being brought in, crates being loaded into ships to be sent off.

Lights flashing by as two medics rushed you down what seemed to be the longest hallway on the Finalizer. The bed that you were laying on proceeded to get soak with blood and dirt. Your eyes grew heavier by the second and you couldn’t keep them open much longer, you heard a muffled voice say “Mrs. Ren, keep your eyes open for…” Then the world went black.

Sweat dripped down Kylo’s back and soaked his training clothes. He released a muffled grunt as he drew back his saber and swung it towards his Knights. He managed to push two of his knights back, he sliced through the air doing flips and tricks, it was an art that he was still mastering. He raised his crackling red saber above his head and blocked a hit, he released a deep grunt and pushed with all his force and grazed the shoulder of his knight.

“Excuse me Supreme Leader, I was sent to-” A younger officer had come through the doors of the training room, looking quite small and out of place. A skinny male who was visibly shaking. Kylo had cut him off and said “What? What is so important that you come into my training room and disturb me while I am training with my knights. What could possibly be that important”. He ended his sentence with a click of his saber and clipped the hilt to his side.

“I’m sorry sir, but uh. It’s uh- the recent mission Mrs. Ren was on- well they’re back.” The young officer said, looking around the training room, he was once again cut off by Kylo. “Then get out of my way so I can go see her, you are wasting my time.” Kylo said and he brushed past the officer, but before Kylo could get all the way out the door the officer turned around and said “she’s in the medical wing, she was injured during battle.” The smaller man was staring at the floor when he said this. He was waiting for Kylo to ignite his lightsaber and cut off his head, after a few seconds of pure horror, the guard looked up and Kylo was no longer standing there.

Kylo made his way through the halls of the Finalilzer, he knew he should have made you stay with him on board the ship. It was his damn fault that you were now in the medical wing, stars know what is going to happen to you. He tried to steer his thoughts in a good direction, it was extremely hard when he could feel life slowly drain from you. You’re ability with the force wasn’t as strong as Kylo’s, it was something the two of you had always been working at. Any storm trooper that came between you and Kylo moved to the very edge of the hall, they lowered their heads out of respect.

The sound of heavy stomping boots grew louder as you slowly opened your eyes and the feeling of anger and vulnerability washed over you. You tried to open your eyes all the way but the bright lights were too much. Laying there in the long bed, with your eyes half open and half closed you heard the door open. You tried to lift your head to see who had just entered the room but you couldn’t, you slightly moved up in the bed while doing so, releasing a grunt.

You waited for someone to start speaking to you, but you never heard any words. The only noise that filled the room was the heart monitor attached to you and distorted breathing coming from the end of the hospital bed. Finally you were able to open your eyes all the way, you reached up to rub them a couple times when you heard the figure in front of you clear their throat, which made you remove your hands from your face.

As your world started to become clearer, you had realized that the tall figure at the end of your bed was Kylo. You had wondered how he got here since he was in the middle of training and was he going to be mad at you? You tried your best on the mission and honestly you couldn’t let Kylo down especially on your first mission without him leading. He had put so much faith in you, trained you for weeks, told you everything that needed to happen. He even asked if you felt better if one of the knights came along, but you had declined. You knew you were strong enough to do this without any help.

“I knew something was going to go wrong on that mission.” Kylo had said after he reached up to remove his helmet. You just stared at him, you were afraid he was going to yell and be angry. “I”m sorry Kylo, I know you trusted me to complete this mission and I tried my best. I really did. It all happened so fast, I’m not even sure wha-.” He had cut you off mid sentence and replied “Hush. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the storm troopers for not notifying me sooner of your injuries. They had failed to inform me on your way back.” he said as he walked around the bed and came to kneel beside you.

“Kylo I really did try. I tried and I remembered everything you had told me to do. I guess I’m just not strong enough, I know I can get better I promise you. I won’t fail again. I’ll train everyday.” You said as tears filled your eyes, all you had wanted to do was impress him but instead you had failed him and ended up in the med bay.

“You already impress me. The fact that you had wanted to go on a mission and lead it by yourself shows your strength. Things happen and I couldn’t be more proud of you for wanting to become stronger. All I wanted is for you to be okay and you know that I will always help you train. I want you to believe in yourself and know that you are so very strong.” He had said as he leaned forward and rested his head on the bed and held your hand.

You had just stared at him and your heart swelled with love, this was the soft side of Kylo Ren that the universe didn’t know existed. This version of him was only reserved for you. “Come here Kylo, come lay with me.” you had said. He lifted his head off the hospital bed and looked you in the eyes and smiled. He stood up and rounded the other side of the bed, he sat down and leaned down to take off his boots.

Once he had removed his boots, he crawled into the bed with you. Him being huge, you ended up laying on him. With your head resting on his chest, you felt him trace the saber wound that was bandaged on your side. You fell asleep to the sound of his beating heart. The heart that was reserved for you.

#kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo x you #star wars x you #Soft Kylo #Ren loves you #jbwrites #kylo ren fluff #Kylo is softies #I swear im writing more #Star Wars #Request

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tetsustation · 4 years ago

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APPRECIATION POST !!

in another words, lina loves her friends a little too much & doesn’t necessarily know the right means of expressing it </3

cass [ @misutv ] — uh im in a sappy mood so if you’re not rockin with the sap please scroll! epic, okay. hi... lol hey. thanks for pushing me to do this. now i know you know that i love you, with my chest! from when we first started talking to all these months later, that feeling hasn’t changed (even though you took two months ALLEGEDLY to warm up). i think our friendship is unique in the sense that i really never expect anything from you, when we’re on the phone or texting it feels natural and when i think of you my first thought is that i want whats best for you. isn’t that crazy? i don’t think i say it enough, but i care a lot about you—about all of you, whatever your feeling at any given moment or whatever project you chose to pursue at the time just know i’m there to back it and never expect anything from you, besides just that—you. i hope this is making some sense, knowing me this might be a bit of a mess, a ramble even. still, i think your exceptional—inside out, i’m really glad to be your best friend even if its just through some silly little app. i appreciate everything you do for me, even if i’m shit at saying so, because its baffling that you feel so inclined to dedicate some time in your day to me—i could melt i think. fair warning, i’m gonna crush your lungs at the airport. all my love loser >:)

hesther [ @hesthermay ] — how many months has it been now? hesther, you are such a solid constant in my life and i literally cannot thank you enough. from our strangely comparative music taste to the oldest sister bonding, i really feel like your the one person i can really resonate with that i haven’t met in person (yet). even if it’s weird to say, i love reading your marvel drabbles and personal pieces because it’s oddly intimate in personal in a way that implies a lot of trust. i know i can rely on you if i need anything, and vice versa. every week i pull you into my world, and the next week you pull me into yours—it’s an entertaining constant that remains me i’m not alone in my silly little struggles. i’m really glad i met you, and i’m so grateful i get to call you my friends (and i get butterflies when you call me butterfly). not to be gross but please don’t stop being you, it makes me smile, thanks hes <3 love you.

selene [ @hajigumi ] — hey whore (lovingly). we’re coming onto two months now and it doesn’t really feel like it but i guess i’ll take it. honestly, it feels like we’ve known each other for a really long time—maybe its the same timezone thing but you just feel so familiar. i get a little skippy when you tell me that i’m stuck with you because i really love being your friend, its such a comforting experience and i’ve grown such a fondness for you i don’t think will fade. you suck, frankly, for being so welcoming. i love hearing about your day, boring or not—and i’m grateful your always willing to be about mine. despite what anyone says, your a great cat mom and an even better friend... giggles... love you mwah.

ly [ @kyotarou ] — i almost typed out the govt name help... babe i love you so much. it’s impressive how you put your heart into everything you do, and it’s really shocking to me when you yourself don’t realize just how much of yourself you put into the things you do. just today when you were making those little polaroids, the dedication that you had to finish them and package them all pretty was truly heartwarming. that, among many other things—including your work which is always quality despite the seemingly mass production of it. i know your younger than me, but i aspire to be like you in that respect. your wit never ceases to amaze me and i think you were one of the first people i felt comfortable thirsting with because our taste is so similar (daishou fucker solidarity i think). i have such a strong appreciation for you as a friend and i hope it stays like that for a long time.

angela [ @oikirstein ] — i think i’m gonna take a step in the right direction and try to be civil (kidding) but bestie when you’re sending audio messages of you scream sobbing about manhwa i can’t help but giggle. something that drew me into you was your humor, because honestly, i couldn’t help but feel really comfortable with you? even one on one, its just easy to talk with you because theres always so much on your mind—so much so that it’d be impossible to be bored. NO YOU KNOW WHAT SIDETRACKING BECAUSE YOU JUST CALLED ME THE EVIL TWIN UM. angela please never change, i don’t think i could bare it. i tolerate (love) you... ig....stay swag.

violetta [ @hikariakaashi ] — once again i am tempted to pull out the govt name HELP. that’s just how comfortable we are with each other, i think. you were one of the first people to interact with me on hq tumblr, so far back that you probably remember my red/black alyssa layout lol—but thats really shocking to me because our friendship has grown so much sense then. it makes me giggle to think that i can just text you about stupid stuff and you’d tolerate it. you’re another person i feel as though i know in real life, its just so easy talking to each other, and my only hope is that we get even closer. mwah mwah!

rissie [ @levbug ] —rissie rissie rissie! i don’t care how much we slander and tease you, i love you to bits. please because you’re so funny and easy to talk to i feel like we’re besties. i could listen to you ramble for like an hour i just wanna hug you bae, thank you for being the only armin lover in the room—it makes me feel very seen. we gotta stick together >:)

rheya [ @diorpieck ] — hey rheya twirls hair...i really have a lot to thank you for because without hq radio i wouldn’t have met over half the people on this list and it baffles me how close we’ve become since. you are such a natural leader and i feel so honored i get to talk to you (the fact that you handle me is just as surprising). thanks for looking out for me and everyone else, because i don’t think we’d be where we are without you. thank you :>

jade [ @iwaizoom ] — jade i honestly do not know how to say this but apparently i’ve followed you since like last july (this is news to me too) and i’ll spare you the speech—but in short there was some fan behavior. i truly love talking to you, its so smooth and your energy is beyond welcoming. laughing at stupid shit with you makes me giggle like crazy and i’m so glad i get to call you a friend. stay in school mwah!

issy [ @cafemiya ] — hey pissie <3 i don’t know what it is but your presence is so comforting i love just talking to you, being around you, interacting—it feels like spring if that makes sense. you’ve written a lot of my comfort fics on this hellsite and for that i am permanently indebted to you. please consider this the start of my reparations and just know your existence in and of itself makes me all bubbly (lovingly) KISS!

nayru [ @luvoratomi ] — i feel like we’ve known each other forever even though it’s only been a few months. still, you’re so consistent which is something i really admire about you, your messages to ask me about my day or hanging out in the discord is so grounding because i know i can count on you—which sounds silly but just know despite the teasing i love you a lot <3

cal [ @lovekags ] — don’t tell anyone but you’re my favorite epic gamer cal, i know we just started getting close but you’re so incredibly cool and talking to you feels so natural! your raw skill in so many different areas is baffling to me and makes me all blushy lol, thanks for rockin with me and i can’t wait to see how that powerpoint turns out >:)!!

#mutual.love #the typos in this are astronomical uh #angela dni 🙁🙁#THIS MADE ME WARM AND FUZZY.#i apologize in advance bc i'm not a very gush-over-my-friends type of person #but i love them a lot #note that i adore all my mutuals these are just the weirdos i talk to on the daily giggles #KISSES YOU ALL SO HARD.#help okay #yall have seen my face and have my socials.... better stay humble

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ts-agere-stuff · 4 years ago

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Agere fic 2

TW- Yelling mention after the -----, ask if I missed any others

Summary- Dee is working on a sheep farm while Patton is trying to hint that he wants something. Dee’ll figure it out at some point.

Other chapters- 1 , 2, 3

A few weeks passed and Dee was getting comfortable with the whole thing. Virgil’d get stressed about something, he’d deal with the issue, then hop on a voice call with Dee. It just became their thing. It was a nice way to spend most nights anyway.

Today, Virgil had decided to apparently try doing it on his own, but Dee didn’t want to leave Virgil completely alone, but they also didn’t want to just stare at a screen, so they worked on their sheep farm. It was simple red stone, so they made it automatic. After a few minutes of getting all of the sheep over, Patton, in his grey cat skin, showed up. Dee punched the air to wave then continued with the sheep.

Patton watched for a bit, then sent Dee a message on discord once all the sheep were away. It just said “VC?” so Dee called Patton and went back to the sheep.

Patton gasped happily, “Dee!” He called out, “What are you doing with that many sheep!”

“Setting up an automatic wool farm.” Dee clicked their tongue. Patton followed wherever Dee was going, “that’s a lot more redstone than I’ll ever understand.”

Dee nodded and clicked back to discord to check something, then noticed Patton’s camera wasn’t on. “Are you fine?” Dee asked. “Yeah, why?” Patton answered them a bit too quickly.

Dee huffed, “where’s your face?”

“On my head!” Patton let out a little giggle.

“You usually your camera on, dear.”

Patton took a moment, then huffed, “You aren’t supposed to know everyone so well already, ya’ know?”

Dee punched Patton’s character in the game, “Stop avoiding it.”

Patton pouted, then turned on his camera. He was in a hoodie that absolutely swamped him and his hair was covered in about twenty more hair ties than the regular one.

“Should I mention it?” Dee split their screen and went back to the sheep.

“Virgil said you could help.” Patton shrugged. Dee let out a laugh, “I think you should just cut them out at this point.” “Nooooo, I mean-” Patton looked around, then made a motion like rocking a baby, “Vi said you could help me do the kiddo thing.” “Kiddo?” Dee took a minute of looking at Patton, then went ‘ohhh’. They hummed, “So, the not talking about it doesn’t apply to both ends.” “You can kinda forgive it when I’m his boyfriend, right?”

“Absolutely means nothing in this. Anyway, Patton, have you done it before?”

“Yeah, Vi and I are playdates, you know?” Patton giggled, “I’ve been doing it a while longer than him.”

Dee tried not to get jealous at that. “Excellent. Splendid.” Whoops. “Alright, what do you need me for then?”

“Just play with me here and stuff. You can regress too and stuff if you wanna.” “I don’t.” They lied while rolling their eyes, “but fair enough. I have to go get some dye. Can you take me back to your jungle place, Patpat?”

Patton nodded happily and started going that way.

Dee followed along, just idly chatting. Patton suddenly stopped after a few minutes, “Wait, I need Mr. Kissie.” Patton ran off out of camera and found a plushie, then came back. The plushie was one that was meant to be colored on and had very clearly had been used as such. There was hearts all over the thing. Patton drew another little yellow heart on the back of the plushie’s head, then continued.

Dee smiled, “How old do you usually get?” Dee followed as Patton started walking again.

“I’ll get ten at the youngest right now.” Patton smiled, “Thank you.”

Dee smiled, “Do you want to head over to Roman’s roller coaster after this?” “OH!! Oh, yes please!” Patton started bouncing, then ran faster to the jungle. Dee found a coco pod quickly, so sighed, “now, what were our plans again?”

“Coaster!” Patton giggled.

“I could have sworn I was working on a sheep farm…” Dee sent “/j” in discord.

Patton stuck his tongue out with a laugh, “cooooooaster!”

Dee sighed and wished they could reach over and ruffle Patton’s hair, “I suppose we could use Roman’s mob farm while we’re there.”

Patton lit up, then started sprinting that way.

Dee followed behind with a smile, “You’re a cute kid.”

“MHM!” Patton was still bouncing.

Dee sighed as they got to the roller coaster, “Alright, dear, let’s get you to there.”

Patton got to the chest with the minecarts, then got in, “Button! Press the button! Presssss!” Dee smiled and pressed it, “there you go.” Patton started giggling at all of the things in the coaster, watching all of the piston’s move.

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

Dee almost joined Patton, then heard someone start yelling downstairs. They took a breath, “Pat, I have to go. I won’t be back for an hour at least. I’m sorry. I really should go. I love you. Bye.” Dee left before he could say anything back. They just shoved on some headphones and went to bed before their head could say anything about that.

Patton just sat there confused for a moment, then hummed and went to asking one of the others to ask them if they wanted to hang out.

#agere #ts agere #sanders sides agere #patton sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders mention #virgil sanders #agere virgil #cg janus #agere patton #agere janus #agere virgil sanders #cg janus sanders #agere patton sanders #moxiety mention #implied anxceit #jadeswrites #ts fic

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holycow99 · 3 years ago

Text

石田お寿司 29/7/21 stream translation Part 1

T/n: This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk. I’ve changed the format as this format seems better. I’ll be writing in this format from now on.

*Someone asked him about his throat.

I: My throat? It’s normal. (t/n: He had a sore throat a few weeks ago)

I: I was asleep when chp 5 was released. It was already dark when I woke up.

*People in the comment praised chp 5.

I: Thank you, thank you. I’m glad you liked it.

C: I’m waiting for the translation!

I: It coming soon. (t/n: He’s speaking in eng.) It sounds like a wrong eng.

C: Are you right handed?

I: Yes, I am.

I: For chapter 6, I’ll probably finish drawing it if I work until the day after tomorrow, even though I haven’t made any progress at all. After that, I’ll add in the typesetting and then it’ll probably finished around 2nd or 3rd August. I’d be bad if I couldn’t get it done after I’ve said this.

C: Fumi (Jack Jeanne’s character) plays erhu? (t/n: OP’s referring to JJ OST album’s illustration.)

I: Yeah. Kosemura Akira (composer for Jack Jeanne) wanted to use erhu when composing Fumi’s theme song. So, he asked a famous person to play it. It’s really rare to have erhu in songs. Not many people in Japan play it. Why did he choose erhu? Then, when imagining what kind of instruments suit each character, for Kai, he has that deep, bass feeling. So, his instrument is double bass. Piano is Kisa. Suzu is, of course, all about hitting the beat. Drum is an important instrument in rhythm creation. For yonaga, it’s a wind instrument. I want him to play a pipe. You won’t understand even if I talk about it. Should I leave the picture here? Wait a min, let me show you.

*Someone commented about Tokyo revengers’ illustration.

I: Oh yes, I did an illustration of Tokyo Revengers’ Mikey. I want to draw Draken as well.

*He showed the illustration of JJ’s characters with instruments.

I: I drew Shirota playing guitar. For some reason, I imagined he could play guitar. And then, instruments like viola (referring to Neji). Otori plays maracas.

I: That’s how it is. And then, we have the Sui exhibition in Nagoya. I’ve been writing report on the event. Isn’t it amazing? Probably not. It’s for myself after all. Rather than for myself, I’d get mixed up if the exhibition is held in a lot of places.

*He started Playing Ghosts n’ Goblins.

C: I really want to play Ghosts n’ Goblins, but it seems so stressful.

I: It’s not stressful, rather you’d feel angry.

*Giant monsters appeared.

I: Just now on discord, Goubaru texted me saying he wanted to call me, but I rejected. He’s expressing his anger right now. (t/n: He referred the monsters stomping the ground as angry Goubaru.)

C: Sensei, there’s no love counselling session today?

I: It seems like some of you were happy when I gave love advice. There’s someone who became a couple with her childhood friend. She said she’s gonna talk to her bf once again. What was the problem again? Something like she had trouble chatting with her bf through mail. I advised her not to then. Hahaha.

C: Do you remember people who always watch your livestream?

I: Not at all. I do remember you *****-san. (t/n: He mentioned OP’s name)

I: I tried listening to my own stream while working. When I listened to it, I realised I have a tendency to pick comments from specific people. There’re people who know to comment at the right timing, like Y****. (t/n: He mentioned the fan he always chats with) It seems like I pick them based on the colour (?), name length, and comments that are easy to pick. Weirdly enough, I always end up reading the comments from the same people.

*He’s fighting another angry and aggressive Goubaru.

C: Is Goubaru usually like this?

I: I wonder… I think so. But, he often wore this kind of down jacket, like for a year. A purple one. Even though the fabric wasn’t that thick, wearing a down jacket must be hot, right? He didn’t take it off when he’s in the workplace. He even wore it during summer. I asked him why, and he said it’s because he wanted to hide his body line. Sounds like a problem an attractive woman would’ve. I do kinda understand that. It’s probably the same reason as women who wears loose clothing as to not have their chest shown too much. He always wore purple down jackets due to reasons like that.

C: My dad also always wears down jackets in every season to hide his body line.

I: I’d tell those kind of people to lose weight.

C: Wearing down jacket and sweating is probably their way of losing weight.

I: No, but even if you sweat, you won’t lose weight. Those who’re dieting probably know this already, but sweating only reduce the water percentage in your body. Just because you sweat a lot doesn’t mean you’d lose weight. In the end, it all depends on the amount of fat you lose and the amount of muscle mass you gain.

I: With sauna, I don’t think you can lose weight. If you drink water, you gain back the amount of water you lost. However, if you don’t drink water for 2 days, you’d probably lose 2-3kg. Human bodies are made up of 70% of water after all.

C: Sauna only makes you feel refreshing.

I: Sauna makes you feel good. I think that, in itself, is nice too. It’s just that only fat people think that they can lose weight wearing down jacket.

(t/n: I might’ve translated it a bit harsh, but I don’t think he meant it in a bad way. Please don’t be offended.)

C: Did you tell that to him?

I: I told him a lot of things. Something like “you’re gonna die” or “you’re gonna have your limbs amputated”. I have a younger friend who’s slightly diabetic, I think. He had always been fat, though he sometimes went on diet. His family knew a lot of people in the medical field, so they kept telling him to go to hospital. When he did the examination, he was told that he had a chance of getting diabetes. But Goubaru is a slob, so he wouldn’t visit hospital by his own volition, though I’m not qualified to say that since I also don’t really visit hospitals. He might be in a worse condition since he wouldn’t get checked up, so I think it’s best for him to lose weight.

I: Why being fat is not good for your health is because when the fat dissolves in your blood, the blood vessels will get clogged. That’s why I think it’s not good.

C: How much is your body fat percentage (BFP)?

I: How much is it…I’m not aiming to be ridiculously skinny or whatever. The average would be around 16-17%? It’d be great if I can get there. When I was on a rigorous diet, my BFP was as low as 13%. Some people are able to get to 10%. I wonder how they do that?

I: I’ve heard from someone about Goubaru’s body fat percentage. I’ve been talking about him, but his BFP is scary. It seems like he has 45% of fat in his body. He is nothing but a lump of fats already. The mother in Atashinchi (a classic manga) is also the same. Do you guys know Atashinchi? The mother is kinda fat. She’s also has around 45% BFP I think.

C: How much does Goubaru weigh?

I: I think he already surpassed 100kg, but I don’t know about now.

C: To be able to surpass 100kg is a talent.

I: Right. I’ve heard about that in Bananaman’s (Japanese comedy duo) radio or something. Mr. Himura (a member of Bananaman) was around 90kg at that time, though I don’t know his weight now. It’s probably around 10 years ago. He said he’s weighed more than 100kg, and that weighing 105 kg is a talent. 100kg was like the threshold for your body and you surpassed that limit.

C: There’s someone like Goubaru in my class.

I: But you don’t know him. Do you mean him having the same weight?

C: My classmate who weighs over 100kg broke the school chair just by sitting on it.

I: The weight is one thing, but even though chairs could withstand heavy amount of load, they’re not durable. Goubaru’s chair made a few scary noises whenever he sat down. It sounded similar to the sound effect of the door being opened in Inagawa Junji’s (an actor & ghost storyteller) ghost stories. I thought Mr. Junji was there.

Part 2

#ishida sui #tokyou ghoul #chojin x #choujin x #jack jeanne #ishida sushi channel

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