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m39 · 25 days ago

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Doom WADs’ Roulette Bonus Round: Mock 2 part 2

Congratulations! The siege cows are dead!

…

Now kill some cyber siege cows.

Part zwei: CYBERDEMON MADDNES

Ejipt

There is an exit switch on a pyramid. Watch out for invisible walls and meatballs.

Egyptian maps. Another great staple of WADs. Possibly my favorite type of maps… But maybe because I played only good to incredible ones quality-wise since Steve Dudzik (the guy who did voice acting in Nimrod) made probably the most broken map with this type, full of holes to the void, textured like it was melted gold instead of sand, and a tiny pyramid in the distance.

Little Grasshopper

You try to catch a switch, shoot a portrait in a shooting gallery, kill a cyberdemon for a key, grab another one, and after that, it’s straight to the exit (kind of).

Colored lightning. Some areas in ZDoom maps have changed colors. Although, I don’t remember a map that was actively changing it, like a rainbow.

Demons dropping keys. ‘Nuff said. I think I have encountered this a couple of times. The one I remember the most was with one of the cyberdemons in Impossible: A New Reality.

Monsters behind walls. No explanation here either. Basically, another cheap way to make an encounter hard.

I’m not sure if I should also add mission-based maps, since you get some orders to do, but after the first half of a map, it becomes more straight forward.

The 'U' of Destruction

Yahtzees to kill, and a shitton of stacked berserks on a map shaped like the U letter.

Secret exit on maps other than MAP15. No further explanation as well. It’s just another ZDoom feature.

Also, this map’s name is a reference to John Romero’s O of Destruction AKA Circle of Death.

Unholy Eveilness

A rather normal-looking map… OR IS IT?!

scare chord

You see, while Kristian Käll is credited as the author, he didn’t make this map normally. He used SLIGE.

SLIGE (Space Llama Interment Gazelle Expert) was a popular map generator back then. Too popular, in fact. It was so good at its job, that snotty, little twats were using these to create maps and then had the balls to say that they did them all by themselves. People were starting noticing that (mostly by the fact, that the first sector (not completely sure if it also means the starting area) is tagged as secret) and these maps ended up banned on the archives. The worst WAD of 2006 even earned its title due to the fact that almost all of its maps were actually a SLIGE slop.

By the way, the music track on this map might be my favorite one. Stupidity at its finest.

Orca

After being glued in one place for dozens of seconds, you run on slopes, fighting pinkies and stealth shitlings before blowing Keen up.

Forced to not move for a while. It’s another ZDoom feature, and you might take a guess why it pisses me off. It reminds me of 007 WAD again when not-James Bond would suddenly stop in his tracks and start contemplating his navelish thoughts.

Changing music. While no longer a ZDoom-like exclusive feature from what I’ve seen, it was this at the time. Sometimes, the music would change to emphasize the scene/the area, or just when the boss arrived.

Slopes. Another ZDoom feature. It’s what it is – an actual slope that I believe was once made out of very narrow steps to simulate it.

Stealth enemies… sigh… Believe it or not, these fuckers weren’t created with ZDoom. They were created by the author of DOSDoom (which was THE first source port for both classic games) and given out to the maintainers of other source ports. These shitlings, as I like to call them, only become visible when attacking, getting hurt, or dying. Do I have to go on why I despite these? This feature has probably become the least likable one in the ZDoom-like source ports (and the non-ZDoom-like ones as well), and everytime they appear, my enthusiasm skyrockets downhill to hell itself.

Tapeworms Suck Anii

If you ever wanted to experience how it feels to have a tapeworm in your guts, play this map! It’s a long as fuck zigzag of a corridor filled with imps that leads to a switch that turns the map into Speaking of Stupid lite.

I don’t know about this one. Does it try to make fun of unnecessarily stretched areas? Because I can’t really remember one.

Mining Fecality

Easiest map in the roster. Just press four switches and you are done… Ignore the fact that the road to each switch takes a full minute on strafing… Also, ignore that it actually gets twice as long with switches 3 and 4.

Backtracking. That’s what this map is. And that’s what many maps before and after are suffering from. You reached a long way for a switch or a key? Guess what? Now go back where you came from without anything to fight on your way back. Try not to fall asleep. Like, you can just add a teleporter to the previous area or an alternative route. It’s not that hard.

Turn that Frown Upside Down

Another, rather standard mess of a map, but this time with a gauntlet of enemies to make them infight (mostly in the first area).

I don’t think infighting needs an explanation really. Basically, demons will start fighting each other, if they hurt themselves by accident, and, aside from hitscanners, it doesn’t work with two demons of the same type unless the glitch with the barrel happens.

Other than that, I don’t know what this map has to say about. Maybe the face in the first area references mappers drawing/making silly shapes on a map? I don’t know.

What I know, though, is that’s all for today.

The insanity will continue in the near future.

#doom #doom wad #review #analysis #doom mod #doom 2 #doom 2003 #2003 #mock 2: the speed of stupid #doom mock 2 #mock 2 #doom wads’ roulette #bonus round

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miracleonice87 · 3 years ago

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Just sent in NateMac... OR 2or8 with Sid, you pick lol

It's on this holiday they decide to try for a baby (2) - with Sidney Crosby 🎄

from m’s winter prompt list 2021

a/n: she kind of a heavy one, y’all. fun and sweet turned passionate and weighty. typical M shit, you know.

word count: 2,617 (this got outta control and will def be the longest one of these blurbs lol - still four blurbs remaining!)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, children, talk of pregnancy / starting a family, allusions to sex / fertility, Sid wanting to be a dad(dy) which def needs a warning

_____

It was Christmas Eve at the Crosby house, the third you and Sidney had spent together as a married couple. With a Christmas Day blizzard threatening your original plans to spend the short break from hockey in Nova Scotia with Sid’s family, you had called an audible and decided to stay in your own home this year, playing host to the other guys and their families who, too, had remained in Pittsburgh. You had cooked an impeccable turkey, thanks to your grandmother’s trusty recipe, and baked no less than six dozen cookies for everyone to decorate throughout the evening, ensuring that the kids had plenty to take home “for Santa” that night.

Sid had quickly shifted from being disappointed about the change in your holiday plans to excited about sharing the holiday with his teammates, their partners, and particularly, their numerous children, an aspect that hadn’t yet been added to your and Sid’s dynamic, but something that you both privately thought you should consider changing, and maybe sooner rather than later.

Excited about the idea of having small children around, Sid had dug through the basement to find his old board games – Battleship, Monopoly, and Candyland to name just a few – and had pulled his deck of cards from his travel bag to ensure that the kids had plenty to do in your normally kid-free home. What was more, he set out for a quick Target run and came back with not only a Starbucks peppermint mocha for you, but several bags of stockings. You smiled softly when he began to empty the bags onto the ottoman, curling up on the arm of the couch beside him.

“Who are all those for, love?” you inquired, quickly glancing to your mantle where only three stockings hung – yours, his, and his beloved, aging “puppy” (as he still called her) Sam’s.

He threw you a lopsided grin over his shoulder and pointed to each of the stockings.

“Alex, Victoria, Nikita, Hunter, Brayden, Caden, and Emersyn,” he rattled off, naming each of the children who would be at the house in just a couple of hours. “Then, I got tags to hook on each of them so we can write their names,” Sid said, his sheer delight about having the kids at the house on Christmas Eve contagious. “I just thought it would be nice. Might make them happy.”

You smoothed your hand over the nape of his neck and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“That’s sweet, babe,” you cooed, your nails scratching softly at his scalp. “This will definitely make them happy. They’re gonna love it.”

Sid preened. “You think?”

You nodded, nuzzling your nose against his temple. “I know so,” you assured, squeezing his shoulder before getting up from the couch to continue your preparations for the party. “That’s why you’re the best Uncle Sid,” you pointed out with a wink. “And why you’ll be the best dad.”

Though you’d said it casually before turning toward the fridge to start assembling the charcuterie board, Sid couldn’t help but beam, staring after you as you went about your task. He rubbed his thumb over the soft fleece of the stocking he held, looking wistfully at the decoration and dreaming of the day he’d be able to add another to your mantle, for a little one of your own. Or two. Or forty. However many you’d let him.

But there would be plenty of time for that. And so for now, Sid picked up the tags and a marker and set out to assign each young guest a stocking, all while dreaming of those Christmases to come.

Hours later, a festive frenzy had fallen over the house, replacing the quiet coziness of just the two of you together with your senior pup. After a thoroughly enjoyed dinner, the kids chased each other through the entire main floor and tossed plush faux snowballs in every direction, the guys donned matching Penguins Santa hats as they sipped on egg nog and hot toddies, and the partners huddled in their sweats and Uggs, glasses of wine in hand as they giddily caught up with one another.

All was as it should be, until a distinct thud echoed from the hallway, followed by immediate whines coming from one of the littlest of the group, Victoria, and a round of “ooh”s and groans from the dads who had watched the unfortunate collision unfold. Victoria’s little head had evidently caught the corner of the wall as she tried to turn into the living room to make her escape from big brother Alex who trailed behind her, now looking remorseful and concerned.

“Uh oh. Saw that comin’,” Sid mumbled as he swiftly rose from his perch on the couch, the nearest to the scene of the crime, and made his way to Victoria. Just as he reached her, her cries hit a screeching peak, but Sid was undeterred. He gathered the crying girl he loved so much into his arms, easily lifting her by her elbows, and stood rubbing her back.

“I know, V,” he cooed. “That really hurt, didn’t it?”

Victoria nodded against his shoulder, swiping at her wet eyes with the backs of her little hands. Sid pressed a kiss to the side of her head, cradling it gently in one hand.

“I didn’t mean to!” sweet Alex insisted, his high voice trembling from the tears in his eyes. Sid immediately shook his head.

“We know you didn’t, bud. It’s nobody’s fault,” he assured, smoothing a hand over Alex’s dark hair as the boy bashfully wrapped himself around Sidney’s legs.

Catherine lifted her brows, giving you a look. “Damn, he’s good,” she muttered from behind her wine glass, Natalie snickering beside her.

“Yeah, don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but that was kinda hot,” Megan Carter concluded with a cackle, earning a poke in the side from you as you handed an approaching Kris an ice pack, reading his mind.

“Don’t start,” you warned through your teeth, though the smirk on your lips gave you away as you gazed back at Sid once more.

Sid was now seated on the step with Victoria on his lap.

“Can you show me where it hurts, V? Hmm?” he asked just as Kris approached with the compress, squeezing his little girl’s calf affectionately as he, too, crouched to her level, though he knew she was in capable hands under the care of Uncle Sid.

Victoria nodded, then sat up from Sid’s hold and pointed to her forehead, where, sure enough, there was already a bump forming. Thankfully, though, no skin had been broken nor further injury inflicted.

“Ouch,” Sid said softly, affirming the girl’s pain. “Well, it’s gonna hurt for a little bit but the good news is, I think you’re gonna be okay. And you’re just as beautiful as ever,” he said warmly, making Victoria giggle.

“Merci beaucoup,” the girl said quietly, throwing her arms around Sid’s neck. He hugged her back with a bright laugh as your eyes met his over her shoulder, and he threw you a wink.

“Pas de problème, ma chérie,” he replied, letting go of Victoria as she turned toward her dad, hugging him and accepting the ice pack before seeming to forget about the incident just minutes later, though the tenderness of your husband’s reaction to it stayed with you much longer than that.

Later in the night, after a few board games, when the kids finally started to wind down and slowly find their way to the living room, Megan tapped their family’s copy of “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” which Caden had brought in tucked under his arm as if it were his prized possession, announcing as he laid it on the coffee table that it was tradition in their household that someone read it each Christmas Eve, no matter where or with whom they celebrated the holiday.

“So, who should read the story to us tonight, guys?” Megan asked, raising her brows at the kids as they glanced around the room.

It was little Emersyn whose eyes landed on your husband and who raised a chubby little finger to point toward him.

“Oh, you want Sid to read to us?” Megan asked, Jeff smirking beside her.

“Me?” Sidney asked the little one, surprised that of both of her parents and all the others in the room, it was he who she had chosen.

Sure of herself, Emersyn nodded. And not only that, but with a coy smile, she slid down from the couch, pulled the book from the table, and made her way to Sid, raising her arms his direction as an invitation to him.

His heart melting, Sid obliged, scooping Emersyn up and settling her on one side, just as you curled into his other, your hands rounding his bicep as you took in the sweet scene right before your eyes. And, from the corner of them, you spotted other wives, namely the ones with children, cooing over the moment, too, from where their hands covered their mouths. You gave the girls a knowing glance as Sid opened the book and began to read, his concentrated, animated tone evoking a warmth in your belly.

“'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house; not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there…” he spoke, lifting his eyebrows to emphasize the prospect of Santa’s coming arrival. You grinned, settling your head on his shoulder just as he curled his free hand around your thigh with an affectionate squeeze.

“The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads,” he continued, and at that portion, you heard him swallow thickly, taking a quick breath to steady his voice before he went on. “And ma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,” he read.

“Ma and Pa right there,” Jake muttered from behind his glass of bourbon with a nod toward you, making Bryan and Jeff chuckle.

Though you playfully narrowed your eyes at them, Sid murmured a, “damn straight,” that knocked the smile from your lips in favor of a straight line, shocked by his sentiment in front of the group. The girls giggled around the room and you felt your face heat as you buried your face in the crook of Sid’s neck, while he went on as if it were nothing.

The rest of the story captivated you far more than it did the children, if only for the way Sid engaged them all with his intonations, character voices, and sound effects, making them bubble with laughter and mimic him excitedly. Sure, he was entertaining them, but he had you absolutely mesmerized. His being attentive to any and all children around him was nothing new, but this… being huddled together in your home, cozy in front of the fire on Christmas Eve, Sid with a toddler on his lap and more little ones settled around him on the couch and at his feet on the floor, not to mention the way he had cared so lovingly for Victoria… this made you ache. Made you yearn. Made it so easy to picture future scenes just like these, but instead of his teammate’s children, they would be your own. Sidney’s own. Yours and Sidney’s.

You remembered Kelsey and Kayla and Megan and Catherine and more telling you that when you were ready, you would know. And when he was ready, you would know. Call it (future) mother’s intuition, call it a biological clock. Whatever it was, you felt it stirring within you, sending a message you had never quite heard this loud or clear.

It was time. You knew it was time.

And from the look in Sid’s sparkling hazel eyes as he read the final, classic, “But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, ‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night,’” then looked down at you, you were more certain that he knew it, too.

After that, as much as Sidney had enjoyed the day with a full house, he just wanted to be alone with you. Craved it. That singular focus he was famous for was pointed only, fully, at you. After he’d finished reading and the two of you had bid your goodbyes, he could hardly get the last of the guests – the Letangs and the Malkins, to neither of your surprise – out of the door speedily enough before he closed it behind them, then turned toward you and blew out a frazzled breath he seemed to have been holding for hours now.

“Do we even need to talk about it?” Sid asked, his steps toward you from the door quick and determined.

“No.” You barely had a moment to breathe out the word before he captured your lips in a searing, longing kiss, his hands squeezing needily at the flesh of your hips, a hungry groan leaving his lips and vibrating against your own.

“Do you even know how much I adore you?” Sidney whispered against the shell of your ear before ducking his head to trail his tongue along your neck, eliciting a gasping moan from your throat.

“I do, Sidney,” you whispered, cradling his head against your skin. “I swear I do.”

He pulled back to take you in, his nose just centimeters from yours, as he searched your eyes.

“Do you even know how badly I want to see you as a mother?” he asked, pressing his hips into yours as a whine fell from your mouth. “How much I want to give you children? My children? Our children.”

You swallowed hard, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Show me,” you offered in a whisper, lips closing around Sidney’s earlobe as your teeth grazed the soft skin there. “Please.”

___

Hours later, long after midnight had struck, signaling the start of Christmas Day, Sid lay with his head against your bare shoulder, his fingers mindlessly tracing shapes on your lower belly. You decided to take the quiet moment to voice your primary fear about entering this next phase of life.

“It might not happen right away, Sid,” you whispered, voicing it to your husband as much as yourself. “You know?”

Sid nodded, lifting his head to settle it on his pillow and meet your eyes.

“I know, babe,” he assured firmly. “That’s okay. However long it takes, it’s okay. I just… we’ll make it happen. One way or another. Alright? I promise you that.”

Tears blurred your vision before dripping down your temple, swept away in moments by Sid’s knuckles.

“Okay,” you concurred, knowing better than to think you needed to ask if he was sure, if he was certain, if he knew the full extent of what he had just vowed. You knew. You knew he knew. He was Sid – he always meant it.

“Now, with that said, I need you to promise me something,” Sid said, slowly stroking your cheek with his thumb. You nodded. “I need you to promise me that you won’t put pressure on yourself to make this happen right away. Or ever. Okay? Whether it happens right away or it takes longer than we thought, I need you to take care of you first. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded again, folding yourself into his arms where he held you reverently, kissing the top of your head.

“Promise,” you mumbled, your face smushed against his neck. “I love you, Sidney.”

You felt Sid smile. “I love you so much.”

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sylverstorms · 4 years ago

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Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.10

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9

The day shift gives you ample time and opportunities to walk around the castle. Within a week, you come to know every chamber and pathway you hadn’t previously crossed, intimately.

At first, you pictured making your escape through a weak point in its fortification. The walls are ancient; You would have bet money on one of its parts having given out in the passing of centuries and gone unnoticed. Now, you know such a thing doesn’t exist. It doesn’t really surprise you that Alcina has made sure the exterior is in the same excellent condition as the interior.

But it is a problem.

The walls are too big for you to scale. If there are any stepping points, you can’t see them from within. You tried over and over to at least peak out into the back yard, but the shrieks and growls of monsters had you immediately changing course.

You don’t know what those things are and you’re not eager to find out. According to the older maids, there are more of them deep in the dungeons. It is only a rumor, of course, since nobody has ventured down there and returned to tell the tale.

Which, taking the window bars into account… leaves only one way out.

The front door.

You are aware that Lady Dimitrescu and the daughters all have a key on them. You know from Cassandra those are the only copies. Nothing enters or leaves unless one of them allows it.

There is not a snowflake’s chance in hell you’re getting Alcina’s key. She will murder you on sight. Bela won’t do anything to disappoint her mother, so that rules her out, as well. Daniela is the one most likely to misplace it or be persuaded to give it to you, but the girl is as unpredictable as she is sly and you won’t risk your wellbeing for a distant chance.

That means…

Cassandra is the only way out, isn’t she…

You lay low and await an afternoon where the cold is downright bone-piercing. As warm as the castle is, with fireplaces burning everywhere, you can still feel the stinging kiss of the outside frost every time you so much as go near a window.

And it all comes full circle right back to the start; You in front of Cassandra’s bedroom door, trembling with anxiety like the very first time. It is oddly fitting, in a way, that the story of the two of you ends where it began.

For a moment, you almost marvel at how long ago it feels, now. But there is no time nor space in your heart for sentimentality anymore. You stand at the point of no return.

And you cross it as soon as you turn the handle.

Cassandra’s bedroom is softly illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace. You walk forward cautiously, slowly, almost as if you’re expecting a landmine to go off at a single misstep. Except –well. A mine would be far more merciful. Just an explosion and then nothing. If Cassandra wakes…

You try not to think about it, lest your muscles lock in place.

Underneath the heavy covers of the bed, you see her, cocooned, pale fingers clutching tight at the blankets. It is too early for her to wake. She is deeply asleep, you tell yourself, simultaneously praying she doesn’t open her eyes.

You make it to her vanity, soundless. Her amber-jeweled choker and the necklace she and her sisters wear are neatly arranged, yet the key you’re looking for isn’t with them.

Shit. You inwardly curse, your hand shaking from the nerves. It means she’s put it in the drawer of her bedside table. It means you have to go next to her, to literally put your fingers in the sleeping wolf’s parted jaws and hope they don’t clamp down.

Easy, right?

An unsteady exhale later, you move further in and carefully kneel by the small furniture. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep—

But you make the mistake of looking to the side.

Cassandra’s expression is not relaxed in sleep like how you remember it from the time when you would wake her up. Instead, her brow is furrowed, the line of her mouth pressed thin. She’s shivering, you realize, either from the cold or a nightmare or both. Shadows dance across her beautiful face.

Your first instinct is still to reach over and soothe her. You hate it, but you’ve accepted you won’t be over whatever it is you feel for her in quite some time.

It is not your place anymore to touch her, you remind yourself. You cannot ease her through her fears now that she has become your own.

With a clenched jaw, you force your body through the motions of opening the drawer and taking the key within.

At last. Your freedom is in your grasp.

And yet.

Shouldn’t you be happier about it?

Cassandra’s voice nearly knocks the air out of your lungs when it reaches your ears, faint. “No… please…”

You forget how to breathe for a couple of seconds. When your wide eyes shift to her, though, you realize she’s merely talking in her sleep.

Leave. Leave while you can.

But your chest constricts when you hear her sob. “…don’t leave me here… please…”

And out of all the possible things she could say, she utters those words and smashes your glass heart with a sledgehammer into a trillion pieces. The shards cut into you and it hurts—

You pause at the door. The corners of your vision have started to blur.

And then the world snaps, sharply, back into focus when her tone changes;

“…Alexia…?”

Your eyes lock, hazel to amber-grey, for a split second.

You run.

You don’t think you have ever ran this fast in your entire life. But it’s different now that it is about your life.

Adrenaline rushes throughout your bloodstream. You’re not thinking, just acting. Just fleeing.

Death, in the form of a black swarm, closes in on you with every rapid heartbeat. Cassandra is faster –she can fly and you’re only human—and at this rate you won’t even escape the corridor, much less the castle.

Flies break ahead of the rest and attach themselves to you. The sting of their bite at your nape and arms nearly has you howling in agony. She meant it when she said she would kill you herself. Not that you doubted it. Not for a second.

Because if Cassandra can’t have you, she will make sure nobody will.

You didn’t want to hurt her back the first time, but the stakes are too high now. You grab the nearest solid antiquity in your panic and throw it with all your might against the nearest window.

Glass shatters and the temperature plummets with it. Over your shoulder, you hear her scream. More out of rage than pain.

The flies biting at you drop to the floor, grey and paralyzed. You hear her shout pierce through your eardrums like a gunshot as you dash towards the turn—

“You won’t ever get to that door, Alexia!”

From the corner of your eye, you notice a blur coming towards you and instinctively drop down. A heavy thump later, your frantic eyes fly to the wall to see her sickle embedded halfway through a painting. If you hadn’t reacted in time, that would have been you.

Still, she can’t cross the hallway now, so you scramble to your feet and run while she takes the long way around. Question is, will you make it to the front door before she does?

It becomes a race where the winner takes all.

You practically jump down entire sets of stairs in your struggle for survival and you have no clue how you do it. You just know you can’t slow down for even a second.

The castle feels ten times as large as it actually is. By the time you descend the last staircase and the sound of buzzing insects grows in volume, the entrance is within sight.

You reach for another decoration and smash another window. Cassandra slows down, forced to materialize out of the swarm before she can’t will her body back together at all.

You shove the key into the lock and turn it.

Cassandra fights through the rush of frozen air, taking step after weighted step towards you—

“I won’t…let you leave here…alive.” she hisses, her teeth bared at you, skin growing too pale yet eyes blazing.

“I’m done being your prisoner.” you say back, voice hoarse and raw…

And you open the door. Steps taken backwards carry you away from her faster than she can make it to you. You can see her pain and her frustration, but they cannot compare to your own.

Your wounds ache from the frost.

Cassandra seems just about ready to leap at you even if it will certainly mean something very bad for her—

Until a black blur shoves her a dozen meters back. Bela’s back stands between you and Cassandra’s cracking form. Daniela soon lands off to the side, looking between the two of them.

“Get out of the way, Bela!” Cassandra snaps.

“It’s over.” Bela replies, a grave finality to her voice.

Your breaths are coming out in harsh puffs of smoke. You still have trouble believing that you did it. That they can’t follow anymore. You did it.

“Nothing’s over!” Cassandra snarls and lunges for her elder sister.

The blonde, deadly calm, grabs her by the neck in a choke-hold and drags her closer to the nearly-extinguished warmth of the fireplace. The way Cassandra thrashes in her arms is downright heartbreaking.

Daniela looks at you, almost saddened, then back at her sisters.

“Shh. Calm down, Cassandra. Let go. Mother will be here soon. Don’t let her see you like this.” Bela says. “If you’ve any parting words to say to Alexia, say them now.”

You’re shivering. The cold nips through every layer of clothes you’re wearing to bite straight at your flushed skin. But you don’t move further away. You wait. Why am I even waiting, though?

Realization slowly sinks in, you can tell from Cassandra’s expression. Beyond the wounded pride of the apex predator losing a fight to a rabbit… she understands that she will never see you again.

Bela releases her and steps away, adjacent to Daniela.

“You’ve earned your freedom, Alexia.” Bela speaks under her hood. “Nobody’s ever managed to escape, before. Respect.” In another life, maybe her and you could have been friends. Maybe.

“So you’re really… leaving?” Daniela’s lower lip is slightly jutted into a little pout. “I… who will I use to get on Cassandra’s nerves, now?”

“I’d say it’s been nice, but.” you speak up between pants, birthing forth puffs of smoke. “I was taken from my home and sent here as a slave, so.” You can’t help the bitter grimace.

Cassandra’s chest is heaving, yet she isn’t looking at you. It doesn’t look like she has anything to say to you, either. But you have words for her, because you need to get this out at last, you need to be free of this weight or you will never really have escaped this nightmare.

“Even as your captive, you know what I fucking thought? You three can be so beautiful when you toy with the idea of basic human empathy. I don’t know what you saw our time as, Cassandra, but I was genuinely attracted to you. I wanted to be together with you. At some point, I was even happy!”

You’ve inhaled so much icy air your lungs probably won’t be doing great for very much longer but God, this is so cathartic. And so enraging that she’s not meeting your eyes now, at the very end of it all.

“Look at me! I care for you, deeply, but I can’t do this anymore! I don’t want to live in a cage as a pretty sacrifice, with you as my jailer. I can’t. You don’t know how psychologically destructive it is. You don’t know what it feels like!” you end with a hitched shout.

You hear the ominous sound of heavy heels hurriedly descending the staircase. “By Miranda! What is going on— Cassandra?!”

All three daughters freeze up for a moment.

Then Daniela touches her head as though she’s having a migraine and Bela shuts her eyes tightly, shoulders tensed. And Cassandra… drops on her knees to the floor, gasping for oxygen, clutching at her temples.

Bela shakes her head to snap out of it. Daniela still looks dazed and afraid… but Cassandra is nearly crying—

And then, in her panic attack, she whispers; “Don’t abandon me like they did, Alexia.”

You don’t know who she means or what you’re doing, until you’ve dashed back inside and gathered her chilled form into your arms, tight. You keep her there like you wish someone had held you during your storms. It doesn’t matter that you’re so much weaker than Cassandra, when what haunts her is too powerful even for her to face.

Alcina extends her claws as she advances on you.

You could probably still get away if you make a run for it, but where will you even go, when your heart is right here with the woman in your arms? The world beyond the village died for you a long time ago. The village died in a literal sense.

You wanted to be free. But freedom and being with her aren’t mutually exclusive. Why did it take me this long to figure it out…?

Alcina is too close now. You turn to kiss Cassandra’s hair for what may be the last time. You do not let go.

Bela and Daniela step in front of you.

Alcina gives them a warning, narrowed look.

“Uh— you know what, I just stepped forward because I saw Bela move. Haha, nevermind.” The redhead retreats once more. Maybe you’d roll your eyes at her if you weren’t bracing for your execution.

“Bela… step aside.” Lady Dimitrescu’s tone leaves no room for disobedience.

The eldest daughter lowers her head and hesitantly opens the path, as well.

Alcina casts a deep shadow over you in her massive height and giant claws. You lock eyes with her briefly, with the last, flickering cinders of your courage. Then you shift your face down into Cassandra’s shoulder and prepare to be skewered through. Her fingers clutch you almost painfully close to her.

“As for you…” there’s a growl in Alcina’s voice that makes you cower in terror.

Except...

The horrible pain you expected takes a little too long to come.

“…you have backbone, little human, I will admit.” Is that… is that a smirk you hear in her tone? “And my daughters do seem to want you around…”

…What?

Cassandra slowly pulls away from you to look up at her in disbelief and you dare to open your eyes. The claws are still uncomfortably close to your face.

“I will take responsibility for the damage, mother. Just, please, let her stay with me.” Cassandra says.

“…Hm. Very well. I expect the windows repaired by dinner.” Alcina gracefully pivots and just like that, takes her leave.

You and the sisters are left there, unbreathing, unmoving, wondering what just happened.

“Too cold. See you at dinner.” Daniela is the first to speak up. She rapidly waves and disappears like she’s being hunted by an army.

Bela glances at you, then at her middle sister. “We need to talk. But later. For now, defrost.” She, too, disperses in a swarm of flies.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically vulnerable, looks into your eyes and brings a crystalline hand to your cheek. The soft way she does it, it may as well be the apology she is too proud to voice. You both lean towards each other, resting your foreheads together.

You have a lot to talk about. But there is time.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #resident evil village #fanfiction #writing #we're almost at the end of this guys #thank you for all your sweet support #hope group therapy won't be needed

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redpandaramblings · 4 years ago

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The Art of Blind Dates. Deku x GN! Reader

This piece was written for @rat-zuki 's the deku agenda escapes no one collab. Happy Birthday to our favorite broccoli.

Content warning- This fic rated PG-13. Aged up characters, Allusions to sexual activity, swearing, gender neutral reader.

“You know, we really have to stop meeting like this.”

You jumped, the spray can you had been using left an unsightly streak of bright red across your masterpiece. You scowled behind your mask as you turned to face the man who had spoken.

“We do. You keep making me mess up my hard work!”

You smirked, pleased with yourself as you saw Deku, the number one pro hero, recoil at the sight of your mask. It had taken a few weeks to convert the All Might mask into an ahegao face, but it was worth it if it horrified your number one pain in the ass. Izuku blinked a few times, sighing and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was clearly choosing to ignore your choice of disguise.

“I wouldn’t have to mess with your work if you chose to do things that were, you know, actually legal? You’re talented, Brushstroke. You could get paid to do murals or something instead of…” Deku gestured towards your latest creation. You were rather proud of it. It had taken a good amount of planning to manage to paint a fifty foot tall mural of pro hero Dynamight mooning the city with the bold caption ‘The Hero Commision can kiss my ass.’ It would be perfect if not for the red streak from where Deku had startled you. With a contemplative hum you shook your spray can and quickly turned the offending mark into a cartoonish lipstick print. Midoriya sighed heavily. “I’m standing right here, you know.”

“I know.” You grinned behind your mask. The voice distorter you used did nothing to hide your chipper tone. “I also know you like it. And you can’t tell me Dynamight wouldn’t love it. He literally said that on live interview!”

“Yes, but not with his pants down to his knees.”

You bent over, throwing your cans of spray paint and climbing gear into your duffle bag. It wouldn’t do for your nemesis to get his hands on some of the tools you used. Mei’s stamp was all over it.

“Which is such a shame. The man’s got cake for days.” You chuckled as Deku pulled a face.

He observed you, hands on his hips. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Away, obviously.” You said as you threw the strap of your dufflebag across you.

“And I’m just going to let you go?”

“Oh no. You’re going to chase me like you always do. And I’m going to escape like I always do. And it’s going to drive you crazy because you can’t figure out how I keep doing it.” You began stretching, exaggerating each movement.

“A teleportation quirk isn’t that hard to figure out.” Izuku began stretching as well, rolling his shoulders and popping joints.

“Guess again.” You sing songed, bouncing on your toes.

“Wouldn’t have to guess if you just told me.”

“But that’s no fun. Unfortunately, I do have to be going. Catch you later, hot stuff!” And with a sprint, you raced to the side of the building and jumped off before activating your quirk.

Time slowed around you. It was like you were hovering in the air instead of falling. Freeze Frame was a quirk you had learned to perfect over the years. Between the quirk and the assorted gadgets in your bag and on your person, it was definitely enough to baffle the number one pro hero. Speaking of, you better work quickly before your quirk wore off and splatted you across the sidewalk.

Freeze Frame was named after what your quirk looked like from the outside. It was as if you teleported, or you had frozen time around you for everyone except yourself. In reality, you were a speedster. When your quirk was active, you were able to move at speeds so fast you were undetectable to others, and to you it seemed like everything was paused in time. You probably could have been a phenomenal hero or villain if you wanted. But currently, it was much more fun to thwart a certain green haired man.

With a press of a button, you deployed a grappling hook, snagging it on the building across the alley. You swung over, keeping a countdown in your head. Would you be lucky enough and have time to…? Yes. There! A balcony door was cracked open slightly. You gracefully landed on the balcony and used the door to slip into what appeared to be someone’s bedroom, thankfully unoccupied at the moment. Taking no chances though, you slip into the closet just as the effects of your quirk wear off. The other reason you had never turned to heroism or villainy- no matter how much you trained, you could only keep your quirk activated for ten seconds at a time. It wasn’t a lot. Plus you could only activate your quirk a couple dozen times a day without getting seriously ill. But it still was usually more than enough to be able to give any law enforcement the slip. Just like now.

Deku curses as he runs to the edge of the roof. You’re nowhere to be seen. “Brushstroke! Get back here, you damn brat!” He shouted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. One of these days he was going to figure out your quirk and how to counteract it. And when that day comes he was going to take you over his knee and… No. He shook his head, blushing to clear his thoughts. What to do with you. Well, he wasn’t sure yet. You weren’t a villain, really. More of a public nuisance. The murals you did showed a lot of talent and a good chunk of the population agreed with the social commentary behind them. But that didn’t change that you had painted ten foot tall asscheeks on a building without permission. And, technically, it was within his job description to apprehend you. “Brushstroke!” Deku called again as he made his way down to the ground. There was no sign of you anywhere. Invisibility quirk maybe? Though it would be unusual if you could turn all the stuff you had been wearing and carrying invisible as well.

Meanwhile, as Izuku was getting lost in thought, you were getting naked. You stripped out of your gear and paint covered smock, moving as quickly as you dared while still remaining quiet in your hidden location. Just because the bedroom had been empty doesn’t mean the rest of the place was, after all. You shoved everything into your dufflebag, pulling out a clean set of clothing from a zippered pocket. Getting changed was a simple affair, as was ruffling your hair, messily getting it to look like a different style. One of your favorite tricks happened when you pushed a hidden button on the edge of your duffle bag. The previously dull gray bag quickly morphed into a loud riot of tye dyed color. Chameleon bags, Hatsume called them. Still in a prototype stage, your friend and employer would probably make a mint on them if you put them on the market. After a final brush off and deciding you looked acceptably civilian, you peeked out the closet door. The bedroom was still empty. You crept out slowly. The balcony wasn’t a feasible exit anymore. Not without the gear you had had to store away. You were going to have to sneak out the front door. You activated your quirk, feeling a little queasy at having to use it again so quickly in succession. It was simple to race through the apartment and out into the hall within your short time limit. In fact, with your speed, you were easily able to exit the entire apartment complex. You still had a few seconds to spare when you shot out the door. You grinned at seeing the number one pro hero standing in the middle of the street. You knew you shouldn’t do what you were thinking. Instead you should use your last few spare seconds to put some distance between yourself and the large, green haired man. Instead, you quickly dug around in your bag and found your tube of lipstick. You applied a nice thick coat as you waltzed up to him. With a giggle, you planted a firm smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a clear and perfect lip print. With a grin, you hurried back to the apartment complex. It was easy to make it seem like you were just coming out of the door as time snapped back to its proper speed. You watched, hiding your smirk as you observed the clearly frustrated hero scanning the crowds for any sign of you. His eyes passed right over you, barely giving you a glance. You almost felt hurt that he thought your normal look was that unremarkable. But that was the point, after all. As Deku continued to call out for your pseudonym, you turned and walked away, blending into the crowd. You were almost out of earshot when you heard a loud cursing exclamation that would have been more in character for a certain blond hero. You bite your knuckle to muffle your laughter. Someone had informed Deku of the lipstick mark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sipped from a bottle of water as you watched Mei work her magic. It was strangely relaxing to watch her in her element. Though it seemed chaotic the first few times you had witnessed your friend work, there was a clear method to the madness if you just knew where to look. And you knew exactly where to look now that you had been working with her for the past three years. You were simply listed as one of her assistants. Most days that involved a random jumble of cleaning, paperwork, schedule management, and coffee making. The real reason Hatsume loved having you around however, was days like this.

“Okay! Set!” She chirped happily. “You good to go now?”

You nodded as you slid down, and walked into the testing area. “Remind me what I’m looking for again?”

“Well, obviously the usual. Make sure it’s not lethal, of course. And then I want to make sure the grid is deploying at the right time. Should be about a quarter second after detonation.”

“As long as everything looks good, want me to be full blown dummy this time?”

Hatsume tilted her head, and considered a moment before nodding. “Yeah, should be fine. Have the explosive levels where they should be. If anything messes up it’s going to be the grid deploying too soon or too late and not restraining you right.”

You gave her a thumbs up as you got into position. She counted down, though that didn’t matter much to you, honestly. One of the best perks of your quirk was that it gave you insane reflexes. You waited until the moment you saw the detonation begin to happen and activated your quirk.

As usual, it felt like time slowed to a crawl around you. Hollywood directors would give a kidney to have access to the detailed slow motion you could experience every day for free. You walked around the device, looking it over. It was meant to be a capture aid for pro hero Cellophane, a small explosive that would shoot nets of tape in all directions. It had to be safe and effective. Better to have a few civilians stuck to the walls than to risk letting a villain escape, after all. You peered into the explosion that was slowly rippling outward. Everything looked good so far… Yep, there were the grids starting to deploy. Sure that everything was safe, you deactivated your quirk and instantly were thrown backward and stuck to a padded wall of the testing room.

“Looked great!” You called as Hatsume entered the room. “I think you’ve finally got it!”

While she cheered and began praising her baby for performing so well, you tried wiggling. No luck. You were stuck rather firmly. Apparently she had upped the strength of the adhesive. After a minute, Hatsume finally noticed your struggles.

“Oh good!” She chirped. “Looks like the new formula is holding up nicely. I mean, I still need to test it out against, like strength and fire quirks, but looking good so far.”

“Little help, please?” You ask, giving her a look.

“Maybe in a bit.” She said, turning her back and leaving you there, pinned. “Want to test how long it holds. Besides, I have some questions about your last escapade and how my babies held up.”

You let out a resigned sigh. Of course. Your friend had found out about your after hours hobby about a year and a half ago. Instead of discouraging you, it hadn’t surprised you that much when she blackmailed you. She wouldn’t tell the police or heroes…. If you used some of her experimental babies on your future excursions. You had been dubious. Hatsume’s babies could be a little dangerous in the prototype stage. But it ended up working great! Your pieces went from small tagging jobs to huge fifty foot murals. Though that had caught the attention of a few public figures, including a certain green haired pain in your ass.

“I didn’t use anything directly against Deku this time.” You sighed, going limp to test if the tape would hold your weight. It did. “Grappling hook works great. The painter drones are okay for filling in large areas, but aren’t able to do clean lines well. The gecko boots continue to be amazing, but the gloves need a lot of work. The control for when they release still isn’t great.”

Hatsume nodded, quickly making notes about everything you said. There was a bit of a quick back and forth where she asked questions and you answered. Though ten minutes passed and you were still stuck to the wall. She eventually sets her notes aside and turns to face you fully. “So,” she drawls. “You saw Deku again.”

“I always see Deku nowadays!” You groan. “I swear Mei, if I find out you’re tipping him off or something...”

“Aww, come on! He’s nice! Would you rather be dealing with Dynamight?”

You frowned, not meeting her gaze. “I mean, the variety might be nice?”

“You like that with the help of my babies you’re able to out fox the number one pro hero, admit it!”

“It might be a little satisfying,” you mutter.

“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s hot either! Heard you two get all flirty during chases. The tabloids loved the kiss mark, by the way. Enjoy finally kissing him?”

“Hatsume!” you groan. “Subject change, please! Anything else!”

“Anything?” she grins at you.

“Oh god, I’m going to regret this.”

“It’s not that bad, I promise! Just, would you be interested in a blind date?”

You blink. “A date?”

“Yeah! One of my friends from school has a lot of trouble meeting people organically. You know how the industry is. Ridiculous schedules, maintaining reputation, trying to make sure they like you for you and aren’t just a fan.”

“Yeah… I guess I can understand that.”

“Well, I just think you and him would be a great fit! He’s a huge nerd in a lot of the same ways you are, but a real good guy once you get past the awkward. Plus,” Hatsume dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper “I happen to know for a fact that he’s a fan of Brushstroke’s work.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “You know it’s extortion to try to get me to agree when you have me literally taped to a wall.”

“I know!” Hatsume chirped happily. “So are you going to agree? I made the adhesive pretty strong this time. Who knows how long it would take to wear off on it’s own?”

“Bitch!” You can’t help laughing. “Alright, alright, I’ll go. Just get me down from here!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You fidgeted with the ring you were wearing as you stared at the building in front of you. Maybe it wasn’t too late to bail? You don’t know exactly what you had been expecting when Hatsume had told you about the somewhat shy, nerdy man she had set you up with, but you hadn’t expected him to choose the fanciest restaurant in town as your date location. You were wearing your best and still felt underdressed. Well, if the date was a disaster, at least you knew what building you were going to spray paint next. The glistening white exterior would make for a great canvas. You chuckled quietly at your own thoughts.

Squaring your shoulders, you took a deep breath and marched in. You could do this. You were an infamous tagger. You faced off against the number one pro hero regularly. Your day job was working with Hatsume. You’ve got this. With an air of newfound confidence, you gave your name to the maitre d. It was a surprise when you were led through the restaurant to one of their private curtained rooms. This guy you’d been set up with was apparently going all out. Maybe you were going to like him after all, you thought as you were ushered in. Then you looked up.

Fuck.

Standing to greet you with a stupidly flustered look on his damn stupid handsome face was your nemisis. The number one thorn in your proverbial side. The giant broccoli himself.

That BITCH had set you up with Izuku Midoriya!

You froze. In the back of your mind you were aware that your mouth was hanging open. The green haired man shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Hi,” he said quietly, scratching the back of his head.

You continued to stare.

He cleared his throat, glancing to the side. “Sorry about the secrecy, but I think it’s understandable.”

You nodded weakly.

Izuku bit his lip. You realized with a start that he might be even more nervous than you are. As much as you planned to murder Hatsume later, this wasn’t Midoriya’s fault. You could get through this date at least. Eat some expensive food, drink the best wines, make some meaningless conversation, say your goodbyes, and then go home to plot the demise of your former best friend. Long, slow painful demise. Good thing about being an artist, you had lots of traps, so clean up should be easy. Looking at the worried expression on Izuku’s face, you realize with a start that you still haven’t actually said anything to him. You open your mouth to offer some sort of generic greeting. But what comes out is-

“I’m going to fucking murder Mei!”

Izuku blinks. Blinks again. Then he starts laughing loudly. He leans one hand on the table as he cackles. You stare before starting to chuckle yourself. Soon you’re both wheezing with laughter. You both slump into your seats, trying to collect yourselves. Midoriya speaks first.

“Yeah, I… I get that. I’d think that’s a common emotion when hanging around Hatsume.”

You can’t help your smile. “Only at least half of the time. But that’s what makes it fun. No one else like her.”

“That’s for sure.” Izuku leaned back in his seat, looking you over like he’s studying you. “So, I suppose we should actually introduce ourselves. I’m Izuku Midoriya. I do hero work.”

You laugh. “Y/N Y/L/N. I work for Mei and freelance art when I can.”

“Art, huh? What kind of stuff do you do?”

You’re briefly interrupted by the arrival of the first course. After the waiter leaves, Deku apologies. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to order for you, but this is one of those places where you pay them and they tell you what you’re going to eat.”

“It’s fine.” You say as you stare at the delicate wisp of some sort of thinly shaved vegetable with a dollop of strangely colored foam on top.

“You were saying what kind of art you do?” Deku cautiously was poking at the tiny fancy appetizer.

“A few different things really, but my passion is mural work. Latest job was in a maid cafe. They wanted something cute and floral, but they let me do what I wanted within that theme.”

The night continued on and was surprisingly easy. The food was delicious, the wine was better, and you were pleasantly surprised by the company. Maybe it was the wine softening you up, but as you looked across the table where Izuku was animatedly talking about how influential All Might’s example had been for him, you admitted to yourself that the green haired man was very handsome. And funny. And interesting. And you were trying very hard not to think about the way Midoriya’s large scarred hand wrapped around the delicate wine glass. It was a surprise when the final course was finished and Izuku was quietly taking care of the bill. He escorted you out of the building and you both stood awkwardly outside. Deku cleared his throat.

“If it’s not presuming too much, I’m not quite ready for tonight to end. Is it alright if I walk you home?”

“I’d like that. Like that a lot, actually.”

He smiled at you, and it was like the sun. You walked and talked animatedly. The conversation was so easy and fun, and a little flirty. Somewhere along the way your hands brushed together and holding hands became the most natural thing in the world. Time flew by as you walked together, your true destination long forgotten. You were only brought back to reality when out of the corner of your eye you saw a massive mural of pro hero asscheeks. When Izuku saw what you were looking at, he groaned.

“Could you please not check out my friend’s ass while we’re on a date?” He joked, gently elbowing your ribs. You laughed.

“I mean, you can’t blame me. It’s hard to miss.” You made a mental note to tell Mei that her paint formula was holding up beautifully.

“It’s a little embarrassing. Brushstroke is talented and all, but every mural is a time I couldn’t catch them.”

Maybe it was the wine still buzzing through your system. Maybe it was the thrill of it. Maybe you just wanted to see those beautiful green eyes widen. But you couldn’t help the next words out of your mouth.

“Well you might have an easier time if you ever actually figured my quirk out.”

“Yeah I…” He stopped. Stared. “You…” He stared harder, pulling away slightly as he looked your figure up and down. “You!!!”

“Surprise?” You laughed, and grinned at him. He was always so handsome when he was angry. You weren’t scared at all as he hauled you close.

“Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?”

“Pretty good idea, actually.”

“You’ve been leading me on goose chases for months!”

You grinned “Yes, will be our anniversary soon.”

Izuku groaned as he wrapped his arms around your waste. “You irredeemable brat!”

You would have replied, but in the next second he was fiercely smashing his mouth against yours. The kiss started harsh and desperate. The results of months of teasing and flirting. It gentled as the two of you stood there in the night, soft and sweet and full of affection the two of you had yet to put into words. The thought occurred to you that you’d have to thank Mei later. Your eyes opened as the two of you pulled away for breath. You started giggling almost immediately. Izuku pressed his forehead against yours.

“What’s so funny, darling?”

You smirked. “I never thought we’d have our first kiss while being mooned by Dynamight.”

Izuku groaned loudly before sweeping you up into his arms. You squawked and clung to him.

“That’s it.” He rumbled. “I’m going to spank you when I get you home, you fucking brat.”

“Promise?” you giggled.

You didn’t mind in the least when he shut you up with another kiss.

#the deku agenda escapes no one collab #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #deku x y/n #deku x you #gender neutral reader #izuku midoria x reader #aged up characters #bnha reader insert

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tiredtriedfailures · 2 years ago

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Dreamt my first fucking jerma dream in an exhaustion enduced mid day nap and it was scary as shit. It fucking lasted forever. I was at first just watching a jerma video, which i dont normally, and it was like a dozen guys who were dressed the same, around the same build, whose faces has been deep faked to be jerma, they were in either a huge empty house or a government building and at first it was peaceful, they were chatting and shit but then it started to get violent and immediately i found myself as one, all the other jermas were slowly changing to be other people, all dressed like it was the hunger games or smth (shoulda taken the hint) and The Real Jerma told us we were here to make a video with him and he would instruct us.was fucking creepy as shit, he sat on a couch behind a glass ordered us to fight. We would maul each other, behead each other, hammer each other until the last one standing and then he would restore everyone and move on to the next round.

After couple rounds i won for the first time and i was sent to sit on the thin edge seat around a boat to watch giant killer whales jump up to the surface and dive back in. i still remember it so vividly, it was so scary and so clear, the deep blue water, the whales rising out of water like giant buildings emerging out of the ocean, leaving us in shade. The couple next to me talked about how they wished they had their phones to film this, and i just shouted back theyd miss the moment, and probably fall off our thin seats, if they did that.the next whale jumped up closest at us, as it dived back in i was struggling to hold the tiny seat and find my balance but then i found myself back in the arena.

Now with jerma there was a middle aged black lady with short hair sitting, wearing that vibrant dark blue. I stared at her. By now i was getting to know some of the other people, people i killed and have been killed by, people i found myself in brief alliances in the heat of the moment. And as rounds passed, she started aging rapidly. In just a couple rounds she got to her 60s, her hair whitened, as luck would have it i was the winner of the last round so i was sent to salute her, as we have been doing since she started watching. Jerma wasnt there so i rapidly whispered to her my questions, what was he doing to her that made her age like this, what was he doing with us at this point, what was going on and she didnt even seem to hear them. And in that moment it felt like maybe they were competing with jerma. By betting on us. So i asked her whose side i was on. She looked alarmed and said i wasnt allowed to ask that question. Then i said

"i dont care then, ill be fighting for your side, id never win for jerma. "

And i went back down, this round seemed so much smoother all the competitors id started to know got in a quiet allyship, i had no idea who needed to win or lose help her so we decided to kill everyone who consistently won and gave someone their first victory to shake things up. The watching lady got older. I was worried about her dying so i got the next win to go see her. When i went to kneel in front of her Jerma called in another person, a guy in all red, it was obvious he was gonna be watching, or betting against jerma next so she whispered quickly to not kneel but hug her so that the new, red dressed guy wouldnt touch her. I rushed to hug her and heard the guy snort and say “i wouldnt touch you if they paid me” i let her go, couldnt ask her anything because of the guy sitting next to us.

I went back down and decided to help out all my opponents, got myself a first aid kit and went around asking people if they were injured, ones i killed countless times, and helping them if they were, jerma wasnt restoring us all perfectly.

I told every person i loved them and woke up before next round. I got up to write this to my notes, openned google docs, knew i didnt have a DREAMS file, created it, started with the date and time, it was 03.55 pm, when i started to write for real i woke up, at 03:53 pm. I opened my google docs and created a DREAMS file.

#jerma #jerma985 #dream #dreams #mypost #this was in my drafts bro.#i still remember the whale part it was so fucking terrifying. funny how the prize is the scariest part of it all #jerma truly is the evil genius of a generation

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chilligyu · 3 years ago

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info: wen junhui/reader, teen+, soulmate au genre: angst, romance | word ct: 2k warnings: descriptions of injuries, scars, blood, hospitals summary: forever was a powerful word, and it was the only word he could think of when he imagined his soulmate. someone who was just as powerful as she was terrifying. because forever was a powerful word, and it scared him to no end. author's note: please read! this soulmate au deals with soulmarks in the form of injuries. once someone turns 18 their body will be marked with their soulmates scars and they will acquire all of their future injuries (i know it's a little confusing, story explains it better). if talks of scars and blood make you uncomfortable, respectfully, this fic will not be your cup of tea. thank you all!

Forever. Never, in all of Junhui’s life, had he heard a more terrifying word. He hated the permanency of it, the idea of being stuck doing one thing, being with one person. The thought of it alone made his skin itch. He loved being able to get on a train and go absolutely anywhere, loved never being tied down, loved being free. Sometimes he didn’t even know where home was, where he’d be sleeping, and that’s when he was most happy. He couldn’t explain it, nor did he want to.

What scared him most, was what he was destined for, what forever truly meant for him. For years he was told how his life would change, how it would never be the same once he became an adult. And he believed them. No matter how much he hated it, he’d have to be delusional not to. Because he’d been watching it play out on his skin since he turned 18. He’d been watching his body pucker with scars, little nicks here and there, for the better part of four years. A thin line across the back of his hand, a surgical scar on his stomach, it was so nerve-wracking. Because he hadn’t been injured.

His soulmate had, and he was a first-hand witness.

That was the sad existence he was left with, the one he’d been running from for years. He lived in a world where everyone was covered in the injuries and scars of their soulmate. Your body wasn’t a canvas of your own life, it was the story of someone else’s. And God Junhui hated that more than anything. That his life wasn’t his own anymore and there was nothing he could do about it.

It all became real for him when he came home from school on his 18th birthday. He shouldered off his bag and was getting ready to shower when he saw the bright pink mark on his stomach. A little thing, only two inches in length, half an inch wide, almost completely negligible. At first, he was confused, then scared, and finally—mortified.

No. He said to himself as he inspected the scar. Please tell me this is a lie.

For years he stared at his own body, repulsed and confused by the injuries that kept cropping up. His friends would laugh at the little marks, claiming that his soulmate was a complete klutz. Still, he refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t care what sort of scar showed up on his body, he refused to care. He refused to think about the one person who was tied to his entire existence. No matter what they were going through. He didn’t care when the eight inch gash appeared on his arm, nor did he care when he saw the surgical scar sprawled across his knee. It was just skin, scar tissue and skin. It didn’t mean anything.

Or that’s what he tried to convince himself.

Sometimes, if the injury was bad enough, he would even feel the pain from it. One day he was walking to work, and suddenly he was struck by an intense migraine. The throbbing alone was enough to make him want to puke. The world was spinning, he could barely feel the ground underneath his feet when he caught his reflection in a store window. His eyebrow had split open, a single trickle of blood streaking his face.

What happened? He found himself wondering despite himself. Are they—are they okay?

Before that moment, he had never actually bled from one of his soulmate’s wounds. And it terrified him. He had only seen the injuries once they’d healed, meaning that the danger, and pain, was over. That little bead of blood meant—meant that this was real. That on the other side of his scars was a real person. He hated forever, he hated the word, hated the meaning, hated what he was forced to endure because fate had better plans for him.

But still, he couldn’t help but wonder. And that was harmless, right?

Going to the doctor after that was interesting, because he had to get a full body X-Ray to see what sort of damage his new body had endured. Standard protocol when you turned 18, he’d just been putting it off for as long as he could. Injuries from his soulmate's childhood were clear against the backlight, several broken bones from when they were young, or reckless, or both. Without realizing it, Junhui found himself smiling at the sight. It was sort of comforting, knowing that he’ll always have this part of someone else. That it’ll never leave him.

He gingerly touched each wound and tried to imagine the story behind them. There was this one right up his shin, very old, very faded, it reminded him of the one time he fell off his bike as a kid. Maybe he had something in common with his soulmate. Maybe they had a similar past. He had no idea, but it was fun to wonder.

For periods of time, Junhui wouldn’t accumulate any new marks, and he felt lonely. He pretended like he didn’t, he continued on as he usually did. A string of flings and drunken escapades kept him busy, but they just—they weren’t as fun anymore. Car rides with no destination, late nights underneath the stars, the things he loved most no longer held the same weight. He felt stupid, selfish, wishing for some sign of his soulmate. Because that meant that they’d have to get hurt for it to happen.

And then, he thought he lost them.

He was getting set up for a gig, plugging in his mic and laughing with the stagehands, when he felt his life flash before his eyes. Like he’d been crushed by a car. The pain was so excruciating, he was finding it hard to breathe. Collapsing to the floor, he could’ve sworn that he saw a bright light above him. Tears streaked his face, his stomach churned like the red sea—he thought he was dying. He had no idea what was going on, until—until he realized that he was fine. That his soulmate—that his soulmate might’ve—

Pulling up his shirt, he watched a deep gash form on his stomach and a deep bruise color his whole abdomen. Propping himself up onto his elbows, he instantly fell back to the ground. Looking at his arm, he noticed the swelling. He was being covered in bruises, several of his bones were broken, and he only had one thought on his mind.

I have to find them.

He managed to get to his feet, finding his right leg weaker than he remembered, and he practically sprinted out of the bar. Pulling out his phone, he started searching every news site he could think of, looking for any news of any sort of car crash. Of any sort of accident.

Every few minutes or so, he’d check to make sure that his scars were still there. That his soulmate hadn’t left him. Because that’s what everyone truly fears, and the one thing Junhui has grown to fear more than forever. When you slowly see your soulmate's scars clear up, when your skin is your own once more, it means one of two things.

Either you’ve found your soulmate, or your soulmate is dead.

Please stay alive. He found himself begging, finally catching word of a couple car accidents in the past day. He scrolled through them, scrolled through the pictures of victims, desperately trying to find them. Dozens of faces blurred past his vision, and he finally stopped at a picture of a young woman. A woman with a small scar on her chin, just like the cut Junhui got when he was a kid and banged his chin on a coffee table.

After years of denying her existence, he had finally found his soulmate. For a brief moment, he was caught in some sort of trance, completely awestruck by the person who was a permanent part of his life. She was beautiful, perfect, everything he had ever dreamed of and feared all at once. It broke his heart, knowing that it took her getting hit by a car for him to find her.

When he figured out which hospital she was taken to, he hailed a cab and paid him extra to get him there as fast as he could. As he rode, he read the article more thoroughly, reading about how she was hit by a drunk driver, how she was in critical condition, and how she was in a medically induced coma. He had to fight back tears, knowing that she might not make it.

Arriving at the hospital, he showed the front desk her picture, desperate to find her any way that he could. They confirmed that she was there, that she had just got out of surgery. They kept telling him that only family could see her, that he’d have to wait until she was out of the ICU, and a million other things that he didn’t give a damn about. He had to see her.

“She’s my soulmate.” He whispered, trying not to lose it. “Please, please, let me see her.”

Even though the nurses were conflicted, they eventually let him in. Thanking them quickly, he sprinted down the hall to her room, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t lose her. Not before she was even a part of his life. Not before he could even tell her how important she was to him. He hadn’t even met her yet, and yet if she died – then his life would be over.

He slowed down as he got closer, his heart beating in his ears. She was just a few doors down, she was so close, he could feel it deep down inside. As he stood outside her door, he tried to calm himself down, he inhaled and exhaled, attempting to stabilize the raging storm inside of him.

Mentally preparing for the worst he reached for the door handle, his entire arm shaking. He was fully aware that she wouldn’t even realize he was there, that she’d be lying catatonic in a hospital bed with tubes and wires hooked up to her. He didn’t care. It was still an important moment in his life. He was about to meet his soulmate for the first time.

Turning the handle, he felt his heart stop when he saw her. Even though the actual sight of her broke his heart, something he couldn’t explain started to stir inside of him. Like—like his entire existence led him to this point. And while that thought alone would’ve terrified him not too long ago, it now gave him a purpose to strive towards. He wouldn’t run from this.

He approached her carefully, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. As he sat there, he watched as the little scars across his knuckles started to disappear, and saw them reappear on her. Unconsciously, he started to check on every single scar on his body, finding himself frowning as they vanished from his skin. He would’ve preferred to bare them, knowing that they wouldn’t mar her beautiful body. And he’d miss the proof that she was meant to be with him. Fate determined that they were meant to be together, and for the first time—he accepted that. Because he finally learned that alone was a far more terrifying word than forever.

“I don’t care how long it takes.” He whispered, taking her hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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asterekmess · 4 years ago

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Heyo! So I’ve been in the sterek fandom for quite some time now and I’ve been wondering about how you would describe stiles’ personality?

I’ve never actually sat down and watched a full episode of teen wolf (and honestly I’m not sure if I ever will considering everything I’ve heard about how they treat derek and his history but idk who knows I’m very curious in a lot of the plot lines and character development), and a lot of the stuff I know about the show I’ve scraped from fics, gifs, and meta posts

For me personally, Stiles’ personality and characterization is so fluid and nuanced that sometimes I have trouble pinning him down (tho derek doesn’t have trouble with that *wink wink*) So I would love to hear your thoughts! Sorry for the long ask, this grew legs and an ugly mug shdhdhhdjdcj anyhow have a great day :D

Well, everybody's got different perspectives and opinions on Stiles' personality, honestly. Even when you try to stick to 'canon' things, there's a lot of room for interpretation on the why when he does things, or what it says about him as a person, etc etc etc.

Personally, I see canon Stiles as kind of an asshole. I mean, I love him, and he does some incredible things, and he's clearly got an intense love for those close to him. But I do make him kinder in fics, or I at least make him regret being a dick.

In canon, we're given a Stiles who cracks 'dead baby' jokes (he's talking about human sacrifice, so the conversation was already plenty morbid. This wasn't out of the blue.) Who begs for Scott to let Jackson die (though it's made clear that this wasn't serious, and he later works to save Jackson's hide like ten times over), and who will mercilessly poke and prod at people's insecurities or painful pasts, especially when worked up. Isaac's previous abuse isn't a no-go topic. Derek having 'dated' (read: been assaulted at worst and at best, been lied to) serial killers isn't something he's going to tread lightly around. He doesn't try to soften things to save someone's feelings most of the time.

He's presented as someone who is incredibly impulsive, with his emotions, words, and actions. It's kind of implied this is because of his ADHD, but that doesn't explain how often the impulsively cruel or harsh things he says aren't retracted or apologized for, or just generally regretted. Yes, ADHD people are impulsive, and yes sometimes our mouths get away from us and we can end up saying some Fucked Up shit to people because we literally couldn't control the words coming out. But that doesn't mean we're cruel or evil or mean. We still feel bad for doing those things, and those of us who are decent people, try to fix or repair what we've messed up. I am...not a fan of how often ADHD is used as an excuse to make a character a dickhead because "he has no filter." No filter means we struggle to control our thoughts and what we say, it doesn't make us heartless.

So, when I'm writing him, I fix it. Even if he still Does something fucked up, I have him care that he did it. I have him realize what he did or said wasn't okay and respond to that knowledge in some way. Which to some people, means I'm just ignoring what a fucker he is, but imo it feels like a horrible fuckup on the creator's parts, so I'm just correcting the mistake. He's no less Stiles just bc I taught him to say sorry.

Anyway. I'm trying NOT to ramble here.

To answer your question, as best I can; Stiles is sarcastic. Stiles is passionate to a fault. His emotions are BIG, whatever they are. Good, Bad, or even apathy. Whatever feelings he has are just intense. He is very much a no gods, no kings, no masters, kind of man. There isn't really an 'authority' to him, except maybe his dad sometimes. He puts family, and those he considers family, First. But that doesn't mean he isn't selfless. Because he is. Incredibly so. Uncomfortably so.

He walks into gasoline for his friends. He puts himself in the position of losing the only parent he has left, for his classmates. He cares enough about strangers to insist a drunk girl he's spoken to for five minutes max stay hydrated and give her a bottle of water. He literally handed over his mind on a platter to a fox demon for someone he barely fucking knew, to keep her safe.

Loyal. Humorous. A fighter. Family-oriented. Clever. Passionate. Strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. And a very good liar, in my opinion.

He doesn't lie very well in the show, not to people's faces. He'll stumble around a "I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him" or "are you asking me to tell you what I would have told you if I were going to tell you it?" but at the same time, he can repress and hide away his feelings and his pain in a way not even Derek manages.

He asked Caitlin questions about her girlfriend, and worked to solve the human sacrifices, literal minutes after finding out he'd just lost his oldest friend. He drove Lydia to the warehouse to save Jackson after having the shit beat out of him by a man who'd been learning to cause pain since he was a CHILD. And he never gives away how incredibly broken he is for more than a couple seconds. and it's a little frightening, because he convinces people in this show who are lie detectors that he's okay, when he's a fucking mess. Even Derek shows his pain.

You're right that he's nuanced, and part of that is because when you see him in meta or in fic, what you're seeing is a dozen versions of him sort of compressed into a flat image. Because he changes throughout the show, and while some of his core personality stays the same, a lot of stuff changes. So one fic might harp on his insensitivity, and callousness toward Isaac or how easily he says "just let them die" when talking about Derek or someone else. And then another will dive into how fucking far he's willing to go, travelling all the way to mexico and facing down a hunter clan a dozen times more powerful than the argents with no one but a banshee at his side, just to get Derek back. Or how he saw Malia hurting and sat with her on a couch and held her hand. One is a much earlier version of Stiles, from the start of the show, the other from his midpoint. Near the end, you're able to say that he was so torn about leaving Derek while he was dying, he had to be Begged to go save Scott. That he manipulated an ENTIRE FBI investigation in order to save and protect Derek. (im focusing on derek bc sterek, but also bc his relationship with Derek is the Biggest Arc he has in the show, and the most solid)

You're going to read about different versions of him, and I totally get how that's confusing.

We all sort of bleed ourselves into him and either bring certain canon characteristics to the forefront, or straight up add our own so he's more relatable to us.

So while I can't really help you pin down any specific Stiles, just know that there's not really a 'true' Stiles that anyone can confirm or deny. It's all just perception, so however you see him, go with it. Strengthen it. Explore it. I'm sure you'll find people who see what you do.

#personal #meta ramblings #go for it

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stillgirlfrommars · 4 years ago

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you’ve got news

So, I already talked about this with @missmorwen and I know I don’t have the time to draw and make an actual comic out of it, BUT I cannot stop thinking about this SamSteve-post-engdame-fix-it story (with a dash of BuckyNat, ‘cause that’s just who I am) which is kinda crack and very rom-com (a bit you’ve got mail) inspired and doesn't make much sense, because... PLOT HOLES but * sigh * I kinda wanna share at least the idea so - bear with me:

So, instead of Nat dying, Steve sacrifices his Captain America powers on Vormir and comes back as Skinny!Steve and starts running a political blog called you’ve-got-news in secret, uncovering all kinds of shady business/corruption and becoming the bane of existence of every politician and greedy CEO - but it takes a while for his friends to figure out it's him who’s running that increasingly popular blog (which the new Captain America is actually a big fan of ;)). And the way that happens is as follows:

So, Steve almost died at the end of Endgame. The idiot (affectionate) of course still wanted to fight Thanos, but even with Thor’s Hammer, he took some serious, serious injuries which led to a tough talk with Sam, Nat and Bucky

Like I imagine, that while Steve would not have any regrets whatsoever about giving up his powers, he would still need some time to come to terms with the fact that he won’t be able to participate in the action like he used to. Even though, he actually wants and knows... it’s time to ... start something new, it’s still a process. So, there he is, trying to figure out who he is without the mantle of Captain America, re-defining the way he can and will fight against bullies in the future (cause there is no way he’s gonna stop that).

And to the surprise of everyone, Steve actually doesn’t press for participating in Avenger-style-fights anymore (he still does some of the practical mission planning and shit like that) but most importantly, he starts taking up new hobbies, like cooking or old hobbies like drawing - and he seems happier than he has in a long time, and yeah maybe it’s a bit too good to be true, if Sam starts thinking about it. But, hey, Steve finally seems to be happy so -

Meanwhile, Sam still becomes the new Captain America, and Steve is there while he is adjusting, finding himself in that role. He is there when Sam needs to talk things through, and yeah, it would still be a process like in tfatws series, but ... a little bit less alone, I guess.

So, the new Captain America fights alongside Nat and Bucky - and it’s good, they work surprisingly well together, but also: those two are stuck right in the middle of a weird assassin!flirting situation (I’m imagening a lot of veeery intense staring at the other while cleaning their weapons or beating someone up, innuendos en masse, dark humour etc.). And frankly, it’s getting on Sam's nerves because they seem to be so oblivious about the whole damn thing. Neither of them is actually admitting to anything, no, they are too busy teasing him about the ‘crush’ he has developed on that mysterious dude who is running the famous political-youve-got-news-blog that gained momentum a while ago and is currently keeping all the corrupt politicians and CEOs on their toes.

So, yeah, Sam might have been caught a couple of times reading or reciting from that blog because - it has actually turned into a pretty efficient way of mobilising people to demonstrate for change and it did give him some tip-offs in regards to who the bad guy really was and yeah. But it’s not a crush... Sam just really likes reading the blog posts, okay. That dude seems pretty cool and they share the same moral code, so... whatever.

What Nat and Bucky and Steve don't know (and he’ll never tell them), is that Sam is actually kiiiiinda already frequently talking with the guy who runs the blog. Anonymously on both ends, of course (because for good reasons both of them are pretty careful about giving away information concerning their identities). And in a way that whole anonymity-thing makes it a lot easier to talk about stuff he finds harder to admit to the people who he knows directly. So, you could say, blog-guy has kinda become Sam's internet friend, but not his crush, no.

Honestly, the crush he is more concerned about (that he also isn't planning on telling anyone about any time soon, cause Bucky would just tease him and Nat would start scheming) is, well, it’s Steve. Because, damn, he likes their get-togethers a lot, the meals Steve's cooking are honestly to die for. They watch baseball together, they do museum-trips... And the way they can talk about (almost) everything... He just feels understood and... yeah, loved (maybe not in the way that he wishes for, but still) and it’s nice to see Steve so happy and okay, maybe it’s getting a bit out of control because Sam took Steve with him to visit Sarah and his nephews and Sarah kinda saw right through his act of ‘hey, this is my best friend’ and ‘what do you mean, I don’t have feelings- okay. Yeah maybe I do’ and told him in no uncertain terms to fucking do something about it and get his shit together.

The thing is, he’s got it bad. But Sam is also torn, because this is the best fucking friendship he's ever had and he does not want to jeopardise that. So, in the end he ends up talking about this with his Internet friend... about how he kinda has this huge crush on his best friend, and his Internet friend is like, ‘TELL ME ABOUT IT, big fucking same here UGH. And I feel like I’m being SO obvious about it all. It’s honestly embarrassing. My other best friend keeps teasing me ‘bout it and tells me to just go for it, but that guy still hasn’t managed to ask out the girl he’s interested in, so, what does he know, right?’. And Sam laughs - at least he’s not alone.

So the days go by (Sam’s pining only increases, Steve took him to a wine tasting the other night and he almost... in his drunk state... almost... but he didn’t) until one day, while blog-guy and Sam are chatting, all of the sudden the blog-guy is like, ‘Shit, I think someone's breaking into my apartment’ and then like, ‘Okay, yes they are’ - and Sam's like, ‘call 911′, and blog-guy writes back ‘mmh think I can handle them’ (and Sam’s like ‘WTF... I know way too many people with zero regards for their own well-being, myself included’)

But then blog-guy is not answering anymore, so Sam frantically calls up Nat who rushes to his flat and Sam says: ‘You need to find out where that IP adress is located ASAP - the dude with that famous blog is in danger.’

And Nat does that multitasking thing where she’s working on the problem while ribbing Sam about the fact that, apparently, Captain America's Internet bestie is that famous blog dude, and- 'Are you sure it’s not a crush?'

But after another minute, Nat sighs and is like, ‘I can't find the location, this thing is encrypted af, it’s impossible.’ Suddenly, she notices something about the setup of the encryption and-, ‘Hang on a second, it was me who set this up for someone back in 2011.′ And as she slips on her jacket, she says to Sam, ‘Come on. I know where we have to go!’

So they make their way to what turns out is Steve's (!!!!) apartment and find him in the middle of a fight against over half a dozen heavily armed people, and yeah - he’s actually doing pretty okay for himself ‘cause he outsmarted a couple of them, but also- they kind of outnumber him, so Nat and Sam get to work.

And Sam doesn't even have time to fully register what that means re:blog-guy until they have successfully defeated the bad guys. After that's done, Steve is like, ‘Thanks guys, but how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Nat... you didn’t bug my apartment, did you??’

And Nat tstsk and then she just laughs because this is priceless and OF CoURSE it is Steve who is behind that blog... (she's a bit mad at herself for not figuring it out sooner, and a bit sad that Steve didn't feel like he could tell her, and that he assumes she has is flat bugged but, also,... kinda impressed.) But then she looks at him with a warm smile on her face, shaking her head, saying, ‘No, I didn’t, Steve.’ Her gaze wanders back and forth between Steve and Sam and she humms- 'That actually makes so much sense oh my god.' So, she leaves them ‘to talk’ ;) and for Sam to explain everything’ - and then it’s just the two of them.

And Sam does explain everything and is like, 'So you're that Blog dude, erm...' He's scratching the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, 'Turns out, we've been talking for months over that blog of yours. I'm (insert-Sam’s-username-here).'- and Steve's eyes go wide and you can literally see him processing that information right then and there and he's sputtering out a light laugh, and he's like 'Hang on a second... I... umm, okay, I gotta ask. So, that best friend you've got a crush on...' Well, it’s now or never -'Is you, yeah..', Sam admits and starts, 'and....' They both laugh again and Steve nods and just says- 'yeah, it’s you, too.'

And then they kiss and yaaay, happy ending!!!

And then the epilogue would be about them having a nice dinner with Bucky and Nat a couple of months later, and the whole time, Sam and Steve are being very much in loveTM. The three guys are standing in the kitchen, while Natasha is in the bathroom and Bucky's making a funny quib about how sickeningly cute Sam and Steve are together - and Sam, well, Sam just raises his eyebrows and is like, 'You know what, you're not allowed to say anything bout that, you and Romanoff have been acting waaaaay worse over the last year. At least we got our shit together in the end, what's your excuse, you are obviously absolutely in love with her!', and of course Nat chooses that exact moment to enter the room, hand on Bucky's waist, dropping a kiss on his cheek and is like, 'What do you mean, we've been dating for 6 months?' And Steve laughs and Sam groans bc .... he loves his friends, he does, but clearly, CLEARLY they ALL have to work on their communication skills!

The End.

#samsteve #buckynat #endgame fix it #Sam Wilson #Steve Rogers #Skinny!Steve #I know it's stupid and cheesy but everything else in my life feels a bit too much at the moment so I needed something cute to think about #Seriously though if anyone wants to use this as a prompt to draw or write... please do

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gabekidd · 4 years ago

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Know You Better Now (*new* BTOOT sequel), Part 1

The title is the same, but I assure you the content is all shiny and new! The revamped BTOOT sequel is here!

Thank you to everyone for your patience on this. I just lost interest/direction for the original sequel after Ethan all but disappeared off Dynamite, but I'm honestly kind of glad I did because I like this new version so. Much. More. And we have Kenny's facial hair to thank for it.

So enough talking - enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Know You Better Now

Synopsis: Nearly nine months have passed since Alex's freak shoulder injury, and she's still not cleared for action. But while Kenny has been a source of strength for her throughout her recovery, all her other relationships are in shambles - and she's finding it harder and harder to reconcile the Kenny she knows behind closed doors with his persona as the "Belt Collector."

Part: 1/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @heelchampbucks @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo

May 30, 2021 AEW Double or Nothing

Surgery with six to twelve months’ recovery time. That was the prognosis Alex had received when she’d dislocated her shoulder in September. Now, nearly nine months later, everything had changed.

“Well, there’s good news and there’s not-as-good news,” Doc Sampson started. He’d just completed yet another check-up exam on her shoulder, and Alex could tell he was trying to keep up morale. But she already knew what he was going say. “The good news is you’ve gotten the full range of mobility back. The bad news is the strength isn’t quite there yet.”

She scoffed lightly to herself. It was exactly as she suspected. “So it’s no news, in other words,” she quipped.

“At least it’s not bad news?” Kenny hopefully offered.

Doc smiled sympathetically. “Just keep at it. Resistance bands, weights; you know the drill.”

Alex’s eyebrows arched. “Yeah, I do,” she returned. It seemed like weight training and physical therapy was all she did anymore.

“Just a few more weeks,” Doc said; but in medical-speak, time was relative. Alex knew all too well that weeks could easily mean months. “Good luck tonight, Kenny,” he added, and he went out the door.

Alex’s head fell back and she groaned in frustration. Kenny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. “It won’t be much longer,” he assured with a kiss on the side of her head.

“It’s been almost nine months,” she muttered.

“I know. But you don’t want to rush your recovery, especially for something like a shoulder injury.”

She frowned. “At this rate Anna will be back from her shoulder injury before I am.”

“What?” Kenny laughed and hugged her tighter. “No, she won’t. I give it maybe another month and you’ll be back better than you were before. Which reminds me, you should probably have some new gear made. I bet your old stuff is too big on you now.”

The sound of her laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “Because you’ve been kicking my ass every week for the last six months,” she said. If there was a silver lining to her injury, it was that she’d gotten into the best shape of her life what with all the training she’d been doing—and it was all thanks to Kenny. Truth be told, Alex didn’t know what she would have done without him over the last nine months. He’d moved her into his house so she wouldn’t have to struggle through the weeks after surgery alone; he’d set her up with his doctors; he’d driven her to physical therapy appointments and trained with her every single week. He’d been there for her in ways she couldn’t even express, and she’d fallen even more in love with him for it.

It made it that much more difficult for her to admit that the Kenny she knew in private was a far cry from the one who called himself the “Belt Collector.”

“I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he returned with a peck on her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna recognize you out there tonight.”

Alex momentarily tensed in his arms, but she didn’t relax quick enough. Kenny felt it—and he knew exactly what it was about.

“You’re not having second thoughts about it, are you?”

She looked up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she admitted.

Kenny’s face fell. “Alex… we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” she breathed. She stepped back from him, suddenly anxious. They had talked about it, at length. It was a big statement for her to accompany him for his match tonight, because she hadn’t been seen since her injury. In fact, she’d all but gone off-grid. She hadn’t been on television; she’d barely posted on social media; she hadn’t responded to any questions for comment about her recovery or her thoughts on Kenny’s pursuits. She’d just wanted to fly under the radar until she was back in that ring for good.

But then, two-and-a-half weeks ago, the match between PAC and Orange Cassidy for a shot at Kenny’s AEW World Championship had gone to a no contest. As a result, it was decided that Kenny would defend the title in a triple threat match against them both at Double or Nothing—tonight. And as soon as the match was booked, Alex knew—she knew—that Kenny would find a way to pull her into it.

But she didn’t know if she could—or should—go out there with him. Not with the way things currently were between her and the people she’d thought were her best friends.

Kenny reached out and took her hands in his, and she looked back up at him from the floor. His blue eyes were concerned. But she could tell he was frustrated.

“I want you out there with me, baby. And yeah… I’d be lying if I said Orange wasn’t part of the reason why.”

She frowned. “Kenny—”

“Just hear me out,” he gently cut her off, and she pursed her lips. But she let him continue. “Best Friends are actually supposed to be your best friends, right? But when was the last time any of them checked in on you? I know Chuck did for a while, but Trent? He’s been a complete asshole to you.”

Alex fidgeted, her chest tightening. His words were like salt in a wound—but he wasn’t wrong. At first, Chuck had checked in on her fairly regularly… but his texts and FaceTime calls had tapered off after the first couple months. At the time, she’d just chalked it up to circumstance. She was out of sight and out of mind, and he and Orange had been put through more than their fair share of bullshit by Miro, Kip, and Penelope after Trent had torn his pec muscle in December. She couldn’t really blame him for going quiet.

But then, two months ago, Trent had returned with Kris in tow—and Alex hadn’t been able to chalk it up to circumstance any longer. And when Kris seemingly became an official member of Best Friends, she couldn’t ignore the twinge of jealousy in her gut, either. She felt forgotten. Replaced in person just as much as she had been on the Best Friends t-shirt. And the thing of it was, none of them seemed to even miss her.

Least of all Trent.

Kenny squeezed her hands, redrawing her attention. “Look… I’m not trying to turn you against them. But I can see how hurt you are by how they’ve acted over the last couple months, and it kills me. And yeah, it pisses me off, too. So… why not come out there with me tonight, looking absolutely fucking fantastic, and show Best Friends just how good you’re doing without them?”

Alex’s brow furrowed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a petty part of her that wanted to do exactly that. But the softer side of her just wanted her friends back.

“I get what you’re saying, I just... I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“I know you do,” he sympathetically returned. “But I’m not asking you to go out there and try to keep Orange from winning. I just want you in my corner. And maybe I want to show you off a little bit, too.”

He grinned and pulled her closer, and Alex couldn’t help the coy smile that pulled at her lips. Through all their ups and downs, Kenny had never failed to make her feel special; wanted. She didn’t take that for granted—especially not now.

“I did bring a really cute outfit to wear,” she said, sliding her hands up his arms. “It would be a shame if it went to waste.”

His smile widened. “Well then you gotta wear it.”

Alex bit her lip in thought. But she didn’t think for long. She put her hands on either side of his face and gave him a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?”

Kenny gripped her waist. “Of course, I do. I love you, too,” he returned, and he kissed her again. “Come on, you should go get ready,” he said with a pat on her backside. And as they left the exam room, Alex knew that accompanying Kenny for his match was the right decision.

It was the potential consequences that worried her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you!”

That was what Stella had proclaimed when Alex walked into hair and makeup. It was followed by a chorus of more of the same, a parade of hugs from everyone in the room—and dozens of questions.

“How are you? You look incredible!”

“Is your shoulder cleared?”

“So, are you officially living with Kenny now?”

“I’ve been dying to know how you feel about everything going on with him.”

And Alex had done her best to field each one of them.

“I’m doing pretty well, and thanks. It seems like I’ve been filling all my free time with working out.”

“No… not yet. But hopefully in the next few weeks.”

“I mean, not officially. I still have my house in Virginia—my cousin’s been renting it out. But I don’t know. It feels like I’ve officially moved in.”

“It is what it is. He’s just being Kenny Omega.”

Thankfully, no one pressed her on that last one.

Instead, Stella was all too happy to dish on all the latest and juiciest backstage news and gossip. Anna Jay and Jungle Boy were an item. Cody had estranged himself from nearly everyone. Callie had left AEW and pro wrestling altogether—and moved in with Cash. Alex had already known about that one, but it was still strange to hear. Looking back, it was hard to believe her friendship with Callie and relationship with Cash had ever even happened at all. It felt like another life; another time.

“You’re all done, my dear,” Stella said. She handed her a mirror—and Alex was taken aback by her own reflection. Long, sleek dark brown hair; glowing fair skin; pouty nude lips; a sexy reverse cat eye that made her hazel eyes pop. She sat up a little straighter. For perhaps the first time in months, she felt herself again.

She thanked Stella and hopped out of the chair, a pep in her step as she went out the door—

“Alex?!”

She halted in her tracks. Even though she hadn’t heard it in forever, she’d recognize that voice anywhere—Kris. She held her breath and turned around; but relaxed in relief. It was just her and Orange. At least she wouldn’t have to face them all at once.

“Holy shit!” She hurried over and wrapped her in a tight hug before she could even blink. Alex was stiff and awkward as she returned it. She hadn’t expected that reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here tonight?” Kris asked as she stepped back from her. Alex hesitated to answer.

“Um, I thought about it. But given why I’m here…”

She trailed off and looked awkwardly at Jim. He shrugged. “It’s business,” he returned. “So I guess this means you’ll be in Kenny’s corner tonight?”

Alex crossed an arm over herself and nervously fidgeted with the skin on her elbow. She nodded. Jim’s expression remained as indecipherable as ever.

“And you look hot as fuck,” Kris perceptively interjected. “Seriously, I think I might be questioning my sexuality.”

Alex breathed a laugh—

“You should come say hi to Chuck and Trent! Trent’s gonna shit himself.”

Just like that, her smile vanished. Her lips parted in silent question, uncertain if Kris was being serious. But she looked too genuinely excited not to be.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex said. “I mean, considering the last time I talked to Trent…”

She trailed off and looked down at her shoes. There had been things said by both her and Trent in the heat of the moment that had made an already uncomfortable situation worse. They hadn’t spoken in more than five months, since right before he’d gotten injured. She didn’t think now was the time to start.

“Trent has his head up his ass,” Jim said, and Alex flicked her eyes back up at him, surprised. “You know how he is with this stuff. You’ll probably have to be the bigger person.”

Alex sighed. He was probably right. But again—tonight wasn’t the night. “Now’s just not the time,” she remorsefully returned. “But I’ll see you out there. Good luck—really.”

And before either of them could say anything else, she turned and continued down the hall, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out there… you’re gonna distract me walking around like this.”

Alex looked at Kenny through the mirror as he sidled up behind her. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her neck, and she tilted her head so he could press his lips against her skin.

“It's too late,” she returned. “I’ve already gone through all the trouble of getting ready.”

Kenny hummed. “Well, I can take it all off for you, if you want.”

He nipped her neck, and she smirked and squirmed. Her mood had completely turned around from earlier in the night; it was amazing what a little hair and makeup and the right outfit could do. The white bustier-style crop top she wore wasn’t her usual style, but it showed off the hard work she’d put in at the gym—and it didn’t hurt that it made her boobs look amazing. And even though she’d made the outfit more “her” with a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and her white low-top Chucks, Kenny was right—they probably wouldn’t recognize her out there.

But truth be told, she’d never felt more confident.

“You can later,” she smirked, and she felt a low growl rumble in his bare chest.

“Get a room!”

Alex rolled her eyes. Matt’s voice was an unwelcome interruption from across the locker room. She’d almost forgotten that he and Nick were there.

Kenny shot a glare over his shoulder. “Why are you looking?”

Matt opened his mouth, but two quick knocks on the door cut him off before he could make a smart-ass retort, and then Don Callis walked in.

“We’re up, Ken.”

Kenny smirked at Alex. “Let’s go give the people what they really want.”

He picked up his AEW World Championship, and she helped him secure it around his waist, followed by the Impact World Championship, which he strapped across his chest. Then, he picked up the AAA Mega Championship and old TNA World Heavyweight Championship and held them in each of his hands. And Alex had to admit—it was an impressive sight, Kenny draped in championship gold. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t turn her on.

“How do I look?” he asked her.

She bit her lip. “Good. Really good.”

He grinned, cocky.

They started for the door; but before Alex could follow Don and Kenny out, Matt stopped her. “Alex.” He pushed himself up from his chair and cast Nick a glance. He stood too. She rolled her eyes. They weren’t subtle at all.

Matt gave her a discerning look. “You are one-hundred percent in Kenny’s corner… right?”

Her brow lowered dangerously. Was he really questioning her loyalty now? “Are you serious?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Well… I know Orange is one of your best friends—”

“Or he was,” Nick interjected.

“—and I just want to make sure that there aren’t any conflicts of interest.”

He smirked, obnoxiously smacking his gum between his teeth. Alex bit down on her jaw. She’d thought that maybe—maybe—Callie’s departure and her relationship with Kenny would have led her and Matt to at least be friendly with each other. But she’d thought wrong.

She gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Matt. The only conflict going on here is the one between what you think that outfit looks like and what it actually looks like.”

He abruptly stopped chewing his gum. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Alex was already out the door. She caught up with Kenny and fell in step beside him. “Forget something?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Just got held up.”

They arrived at Gorilla, and Don went on and on talking Kenny up, boosting his confidence, assuring that neither Orange nor PAC stood a chance; but Alex tuned him out, nervously looking around. Waiting. And then she saw them: Orange, Chuck, Kris, and Trent.

Her heart jumped into her throat when her eyes met Chuck’s. He flashed her a smile; but it wasn’t as wide or as bright as she was used to.

“Hey. It’s good to see you,” he said, and he gave her arm a squeeze as he passed. She said nothing in response—just a tight grin of acknowledgement. Entirely impersonal compared to how they used to greet each other.

It’s the circumstances, she tried to tell herself.

Orange and Kris greeted her in much the same way, with awkward half-smiles as they walked by; Kris seemed apologetic, for some reason. And then, Trent reached her. His expression was cold, his eyes hard, and then he muttered underneath his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “Thanks for telling us you’d be here.”

He kept walking, not waiting for her to even process what he’d said, and Alex’s heart sunk petrified into the pit of her stomach.

This was how things were now. She felt stupid for hoping for different.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had known it would be difficult to be ringside for this match. But, sixteen minutes into it, she hadn’t realized it would be this difficult.

PAC laid on his back, staring up at the lights courtesy of a bridging deadlift suplex into a pin attempt from Kenny. So, with him taken care of for the moment, Kenny turned his attention to Orange. He pulled his right kneepad down, and Alex had to stop herself from watching through her fingers as he kneed Orange hard in the face, once, and then again. She could feel the eyes of the fans at ringside watching her with keen interest, trying to gauge her reactions. They’d been shocked to see her come out with Kenny, and now her presence provided them with an extra layer of entertainment. At least Chuck, Trent, and Kris weren’t at ringside, too; they’d walked Orange out and promptly disappeared backstage. Alex didn’t know what she would have done if they’d stayed.

Kenny backed toward the ropes, aiming to deliver a third and final V-Trigger. But before he could, Orange held up his hands as if to tell him “stop.” And then he plunged them into his pant pockets and fell facedown onto the mat.

Kenny laughed, but he couldn’t care less. He walked over and started to pick Orange up; but then a revived PAC grabbed him and hit him with a hard forearm. They traded blows and kicks in the middle of the ring until Orange suddenly intervened and hit Kenny with a Michinoku Driver. However, Kenny rolled away and PAC hit Orange with a brainbuster. He covered him, but Orange thankfully kicked out at two.

Alex put her hand on Kenny’s shoulder as he laid underneath the ropes, halfway out of the ring. “Are you alright?”

But he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said, “Go get one of my belts.”

She looked back at him in confusion. “What?”

“Go get one of my belts in case.”

Alex blinked and shook her head. She could not believe what he was asking her to do. “What? No, Kenny, I’m not doing that. You don’t need—”

But he rolled away, back underneath the ropes into the ring. PAC and Orange were in a precarious position on the top turnbuckle closest to them. It looked like PAC was trying to execute a superplex—but Kenny jumped up and shoved PAC off-balance, causing Orange to tumble from his grip and bounce off the ring apron to the floor. Alex started to check on him—but then she remembered she wasn’t out there for him and stopped short. She ran her hands over her hair, helpless. Inwardly hoping that he was alright.

Meanwhile, PAC had reversed Kenny’s attempt at a One-Winged Angel from the top turnbuckle and sent him sailing across the ring via a sunset flip powerbomb. They stood atop the opposite turnbuckle now, and Alex’s eyes widened in horror when PAC delivered an avalanche Falcon Arrow. But then, Orange suddenly scrambled back into the ring, tossed PAC out, and hooked Kenny’s leg. Every single person packed into Daily’s Place jumped from their seats as Bryce Remsburg slid to the mat and started to count. Kenny barely kicked out before three. Alex leaned her elbows on the ring apron, her head in her hands. That had been way too close.

All around her the fans started chanting, “That was three!” booming in her ears, and she bit down on her jaw. Kenny rolled out of the ring and stumbled over to her. For some reason, she already knew what for.

“Alex, go get one of my belts,” he said again. It was an order, not a question. But she stood her ground.

“No! I’m not helping you win like that!”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Baby, now’s not the time to argue about this. Just go get—”

She cut him off with a gasp as PAC came flying over the top rope headed straight for them. Kenny shoved her out of the way at the last second, taking all the impact himself and getting knocked to the floor. PAC, meanwhile, sprung back up and to the top turnbuckle. He slowly stood—and when Alex saw him jump into the air and perform the Black Arrow, she knew she had just seconds to act. She jumped over Kenny and rounded the turnbuckle as PAC hooked Orange’s leg. And just before Bryce could count three, she grabbed Orange’s boot and put it on the bottom rope.

Bryce stopped the count and pointed at Orange’s foot, none the wiser to what had happened. The fans, on the other hand, showered Alex with thunderous boos. Realizing what she’d done, PAC turned and shot her a glower that seemed almost inhuman. But she just pursed her lips and raised her chin in defiance.

Kenny pulled himself up by the ropes and ducked back into the ring, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the match went on, back and forth between him and PAC—until Orange scored another near-fall after he hit Kenny with a frantic Beach Break. PAC then tried for a Liger Bomb on Orange, but he fought out of it and landed a hard Orange Punch across his jaw, dropping him to the mat. Then he gave one to Kenny, and the crowd came unglued.

Orange fed off their energy, pumping himself up as PAC staggered to his feet. He hit another Orange Punch and went for the pin. Time seemed to stop as Alex watched, her heart in her throat and her hands on her head. She didn’t want Kenny to lose at all, let alone like this. But just as Bryce started the count, Don appeared out of nowhere and pulled him from the ring by his ankles.

Alex stood frozen to her spot as Bryce and Don yelled at each other, and she fully expected the former to expel the latter from ringside—but he didn’t. He simply got back in the ring, and the match continued. Don walked toward Alex, straightening his suit jacket. “Good work putting Orange’s foot on the ropes,” he said to her.

She didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t want a compliment from the likes of him.

Back in the ring, Kenny had been knocked to the floor once again—and PAC had the Brutalizer locked on Orange. When Kenny finally made it back through the ropes, he kicked PAC in the face once, twice. But he didn’t let go of his hold on Orange. So instead, Kenny made the desperate decision to hit Bryce with a hard double axe handle to the back.

The crowd booed, and Alex hid her face in her hands. “Come on, Ken…” she breathed. Not like this.

Meanwhile, Don took the initiative to do what Kenny had been asking Alex to do all along. He grabbed the Impact Championship from the timekeeper’s area and tossed it to Kenny in the ring. Kenny caught it, and then he turned and clocked PAC over the head. He dropped like dead weight to the mat, and Kenny tossed the belt aside, the fans still booing all the while.

But apparently, one belt wasn’t enough.

Don tossed in the Triple A Mega Championship next, and as PAC staggered to his feet, Kenny hit him again. Then he threw in the TNA World Heavyweight Championship. Alex had to bite her lip to keep from shouting at Kenny to stop. She looked away just before he hit PAC a third time.

Finally, Don handed Kenny the AEW World Championship. He took it and held it high above his head, gloating, reveling in the crowd’s hatred. Somehow, PAC was still moving, trying to stay in the match. But just as he climbed to his feet for a third time, Kenny hit him again and knocked him down for good.

Kenny held the championship up again, parading around the ring. He didn’t notice Orange darting toward him until it was too late. He laid him out with another Orange Punch across the jaw.

Orange crawled toward Kenny, obviously going for the pin; but Bryce was still down from Kenny’s earlier attack. However, it didn’t matter. As soon as he draped himself across Kenny’s chest, Aubrey ran down to the ring. Alex grabbed her own throat as she counted.

One.

Two—

But unexpectedly, Kenny reversed the pin and rolled Orange’s shoulders to the mat in a crucifix. Aubrey counted again.

One.

Two.

Three.

That was it. The bell rung, and Kenny’s music started. Alex let out a breath. He’d won by the skin of his fucking teeth.

She and Don both rushed to Kenny’s side as Justin Roberts officially announced him the winner. He clutched his jaw, and somehow his left hand had been sliced open. “What happened?” she asked, looking over the blood on his fingers with concern. But he wasn’t able to answer her before they were suddenly swarmed by both the Young Bucks and the Good Brothers. Matt and Nick practically pushed her aside as they congratulated Kenny, and Nick and Karl Anderson put an arm each over their shoulders and helped him up the steps to the entrance ramp. And as they all celebrated, reveling in Kenny’s stolen victory, Alex felt a sourness curdle at the back of her throat.

She was in love with Kenny. He’d come to mean the world to her over the last nine months. But she hadn’t signed up for this world.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #the elite fanfiction #orange cassidy fanfiction #trent beretta fanfiction #chuck taylor fanfiction #kris statlander fanfiction

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adorable-deku · 4 years ago

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im still thinking abt that au where everytime izuku dies he becomes more eldritch, and im thinking about how this plot woukd go.

bc im not sure he would go to ua at all. by the time the hero exams roll around, he would already have died a couple dozen times from vigilante nonsense and a lack of properly trained fighting skills (one might argue that immortality makes those unnecessary). so by that point, hed be pretty goddamn eldritch

glowing, uncomfortably vivid green eyes with pupils that are far too black and paper white whites. no pores, at least as far as anyone can see. if he doesnt make his presence known, he sinks into the shadows but if he does make his presence known, he inspires immediate discomfort and fear. his hair takes on a mind of its own sometimes and is scheming something. occasionally he has a weird persuasiveness that he really needs to explore more? and hes developed tentacles. absolutely wild

hes also seen a lot more of the worst parts of the world. hes had villains take him to the hospital after accidentally killing them. hes seen a hero leave him for dead. yknow, the normal shit

i have a hard time envisioning this izuku applying to ua unless he were forced to go there through some sort of vigilante rehabilitation program.

i dont like that much, though. i do think he would know eraserhead, though aizawa wouldnt know who he was, just that he was a vigilante with some kind of incredible healing quirk, it was odd how it affected so much other stuff though.....

maybe he gets super badly injured but since he doesnt die, he doesnt heal, so aizawa takes him to a hospital, they get the mask off, oh my god its a literal child

aizawa actually learns what his quirk is and becomes even more horrified.

i think im gonna go slightly negligent inko in this one. like she loves her son but isnt willing to rly get involved with his life unless he does smth super out of the ordinary

aizawa gets custody of izuku through some hero system bullshit but izuku already has that detachment to the world and people around him from the effects of dying over and over and over. hes not really touched and doesnt feel much loyalty, though there is a little. he continues his vigilantism. keeps dying.

this couldnt be a happy end bc the basic plot of the story is izuku slowly losing parts of himself through death until he becomes a completely different person

idk maybe he drifts into the league of villains? if afo took his quirk itd be disastrous for the world in general but rly good for the plot

hmmmm..... he does have that whole quirk experimentation lab. maybe they can reduce the effects of izukus quirk? something

or perhaps its like..... the aftershock of death, the changes aren't permanent. like when the deaths pile up, izuku becomes a different person but given time to recover, he returns to himself?

cant decide whether to do that with the physical changes too....

#eldritch izuku au #bnha #midoriya izuku #bnha au

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years ago

Text

there for you

summary: your best friend Bowen can’t help but draw some connections between you and your favorite show.

word count: 2k

warnings: heavy spoilers for New Girl. like, its basically the premise of the fic

note from the writer: here’s a link to a tweet with the scene im talking about in this fic, its from the episode “Oregon” (season 4 ep 16). shoutout to @bqstqnbruin for finding it for me

Bowen had long since stopped asking to come over before showing up on your doorstep. Usually, he’d send a ‘are you home?’ text to make sure you were around, before heading to your apartment for whatever reason he had in mind.

The latest text had come in twenty minutes ago, so you knew he was going to show up soon.

Like clockwork, you heard a knock on your front door and Bowen greeting your roommates before your bedroom door opened. He was grinning, wide as ever, and you opened your arms for a hug from your position laying in bed, under the covers and in the middle of a New Girl marathon.

“Scoot over.” Bowen grins, barely giving you enough time to react before dropping on top of you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You paused the show, not wanting to miss anything despite being on your third rewatch.

You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was beating. If he knew just how much his touch affected you, how many feelings you were harboring from him.

“What’s up?” You asked, pushing away any thoughts about your massive crush on your best friend as you tried to get to the bottom of why he showed up out of the blue. It wasn’t the first time he had done so, but he always had a reason.

“I wanted to see you. Practice was rough.” He mumbled in the crook of your neck. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, how they fell past his lips so easily. Those words made you think that maybe your feelings weren’t so one sided, that there was a chance for you to be even happier than you already were with your best friend.

“You’re going to make me blush.” You teased, downplaying the fact that he really did manage to fluster you. Bowen snorted, squeezing you tightly once more instead of responding to your comment. An easy moment of silence passed, one that wasn’t stifling or awkward and it reminded you once more just how much you enjoyed being around Bowen. Subconsciously, one of your hands threaded through his hair. “I like it when your hair is longer like this.”

Your words were punctuated by a tug on his roots and though he didn’t say anything, he hummed contentedly. You worried that maybe he’d be able to hear the hammering of your heart or he’d know that the smile on your face wasn’t because of your platonic love for him. You feared that he would know—know how much you loved him and know that you had been hiding your feelings for so long. But you couldn’t let yourself think too much about that, you couldn’t let yourself overthink and ruin one of your closest friendships, so you tactfully changed the subject.

“Are we napping or watching my show?” You asked, though you had a pretty good idea what his answer would be.

“Nap, please.” He mumbled, and you could never deny him, especially when he was acting so sleepy and adorable, so you agreed easily. You both shifted your positions slightly, you trying to find the comfiest spot and him climbing under the covers with you, but eventually you both melted into your mattress, Bowen’s head still buried in the crook of your neck.

Bowen tried to stay awake a little longer; to tell you about his morning and the practice he had just come from that had drained his energy completely. But before long, his words were slurring together and when he stopped mid sentence, you knew he had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around you and your fingers carding through his hair.

You tried to stay up too, to relish in the feeling of being in his arms. But you knew that pretending like it meant something more than it did was only going to break your heart more, so soon after he dozed off you closed your eyes and followed suit.

You were the first one to wake up, a combinatin of Bowen’s weight on you becoming slightly uncomfortable and the need to use the bathroom, so you did your best to climb out from underneath him without waking him. You thought you had made it out clear, but the moment your feet hit the floor Bowen was stirring from behind you.

“Where are you going?” He mumbled, causing you to halt your movements. It was far from the first time you had heard his gravelly voice just after he woke up, but it never failed to make your heart race. You swore you could listen to him talk forever, which was a good thing, since he never seemed to be able to stop talking.

“Bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You told him, finally standing to your feet. When you turned back around, Bowen was already watching you with tired eyes that made your heart clench. God, you were so gone for him.

You slipped out of the room without saying anything more, not trusting yourself to not blurt out just exactly how his smile made you feel. When you returned, he was sitting up against your headboard, your laptop open on his lap as he queued up the episode you had been watching before he arrived.

“New Girl again?” Bowen teased when he spotted you enter the room. You playfully rolled your eyes at him, climbing back into your spot beside him on the bed. You mirrored his position, though you dropped your head against his shoulder.

“It’s a good show. Plus, Jess and Nick’s relationship is my favorite.” You told him decidedly, like you had a dozen times before. The relationship between Jess and Nick truly was somehting you strived for—friends that were always in love with each other, no matter the problems that arised and even when they were broken up they did their best to keep the other happy.

“Fair enough.” He chuckled, shifting slightly so that his arm was around you and he could hold you closer to his side. “What episode are we on?”

“Oregon.” You started, knowing you’d have to catch him up on more than just the episode name. “Jess, Cece, and the guys go to Portland because Jess’ dad is getting married. Jess’ boyfriend, Ryan, was supposed to show up but since he lives in England he said it wouldn’t make sense for him to be there. So, Nick’s trying to make Jess feel better because he secretly loves her and I just need them to get back together.”

“Don’t they end up together though?” Bowen asks, trying to recall as much about the show as he could. It might not have been one of his personal favorites, but he knew you loved it, so that was enough for him to try and follow along.

“Yeah, but they aren’t right now.” You confirm. Before Bowen could ask anymore questions, you pressed play on your laptop and continued where you left off. Jess and the group had just arrived at her childhood home, only to find her mom ready to greet Ryan, who wasn’t there. The scene played on, with Nick telling Jess the hard truth that Ryan bailing wasn’t okay.

You could feel Bowen’s eyes on you as the scene changed to Nick comforting Jess in her room. Giggling at the Jordan Catalano joke, you tried your best to focus on the screen and not the piercing blue eyed gaze that seemed to be studying your face. And, like you always did when you got to this scene, you bit your lip to supress a grin as Nick delivered his next line.

“The only thing that matters is that the guy is there for you when you need him. Otherwise, you’re dating a wall.”

“Are you even paying attention, Bow? That’s like, my favorite line. What I wouldn’t give to have someone love me the way Nick loves Jess.” You sighed, settling further against Bowen as the episode continued on. He didn’t say anything in response, other than a quiet hum, but for the rest of the episode you could practically hear the gears turning inside his head as he turned his attention to the screen.

Netflix automatically continued on to the next episode, but as soon as the intro started Bowen’s hand shot out and paused the show. You looked at him curiously; the two of you usually got through at least a couple of episodes whenever you hung out like you were then.

“You know…” Bowen started, trailing off before he finished his thought. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, and it was clear that what he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue so you stayed silent while he found his words. “I’m always there for you.”

You felt your heart stop beating and skip three beats all at once. You weren’t sure where he was going with his train of thought, but if you had to guess you would be getting your hopes up. Because there was absolutely no way that he felt the same for you that Nick does for Jess.

“Yeah, you are…” You breathed, trying to get him to meet your gaze but instead he stayed focused on your comforter pulled over both of your laps. The hand that wasn’t around your shoulders was toying with the fabric, and in a bid to calm him down enough to get him to say what he needed you slipped your hand into his. Bowen drew in a steadying breath and finally met your gaze, a dozen and one emotions swirling behind his eyes.

“I love you, you know.” He said firmly, like there was no question about it in the slightest and not the very words you had been dying to hear from him for years. You nodded, unable to form words but not wanting to leave him hanging.

You supposed you did know that he loved you. He showed it in his blatant affection and the frequent texts about how his life was going. He cared for you, there was no doubt about it, but you had never let yourself believe that he meant anything more than friendship. And now he was offereing everything you’d ever wanted on a silver platter.

“Bowen,” You started, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him just how much you loved him back. Instead, you moved the hand that wasn’t wrapped up in his to rest on Bowen’s jaw, turning his head just slightly so that you could press your lips to yours in a long awaited kiss that stole your breath.

Kissing Bowen felt so much better than what you imagined. The angle was a little odd and your neck was craned to face him, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You’d share a thousand more awkwardly positioned kisses if it meant you got to be with Bowen.

You were the first to pull away, but you didn’t move far, wide grins on both of your faces as you took in the events of the past few moments. Your friendship was definitely changed, and in place was a relationship that you had been hoping for.

“I love you, too.” You finally mumbled. You wanted to tell him how you had loved him from the moment you met, how he made you fall in love with him with each and every day, but for the moment all that mattered was he knew you loved him just the same as he loved you.

“I hope, or else this is going to be awkward.” He mumbled playfully, leaning in again to close the distance between the two of you. You couldn’t help but chuckle against him, your hand slipping from his jaw to curve around the back of his neck in order to deepen the kiss.

Bowen was the Nick to your Jess, and not a day went by that you weren’t greatful for him.

#bowen byram #bowen byram fic #bowen byram imagine #bowen byram x reader #Colorado Avalanche #colorado avalanche fic #Colorado Avalanche x reader #Colorado Avalanche imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey x reader

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glitterge1pen · 4 years ago

Text

Crayons Not Cigarettes

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 2,770

If you looked it up on google the descriptors were "small venue" and "sports arena" and "stadium". The place took roughly ten minutes to walk around, the parking lot was huge, and it had those bright white lights out in the front. The entrance was a bit grand, big pillars with dozens of different sports flags. Tons of different teams, tournaments, and practices were held here.

You were starting your part time job at the concession stands today. You had already gone through the training a couple days ago, all that was left was actually doing your job. You were hoping you had a good shift partner, that you didn't spill any drinks, that people would be nice to you.

Tonight there was a volleyball match, you decide the crowd was decent for thirty minutes before game time. The regular attendees stood in lines at the front gates, waiting to be let in. Walking up to the employee only entrance you struggled with your key card to get it open. This was exactly how your manager had done it on training day. There was only five more minutes before your shift started, you were starting to worry you might be late.

"Turn it over"

You whipped around to see another person standing right behind you. He had blonde dyed hair with black streaks, and his eyes doused in eyeliner.

"Oh, thanks"

You kinda mumble it out, embarrassed that this very cute stranger had to see you struggle opening a door.

"Do you work here too?"

You ask as you hold the door open for him.

"No"

You take his short reply as him saying the conversation is over. You still have to awkwardly walk next to him down the long employee corridor though. After a rather long pause he continues speaking.

"I'm a volleyball player. On game days we get to use the employee entrances and doors."

"Really? That's cool,"

Up further down the hall you can see where your paths will diverge.

"Well I hope the game goes well for you"

He says nothing, but does nod his head before leaving for the locker room area. You turn the other way to the employee office. Put your jacket and bag into a locker, clock in on the old desktop, and walk out to the counter to start your shift. Your shift partner isn't there yet so you begin setting things up at the booth alone.

You flick on all the machines, filling up the icee mixer with dyed flavors, a new pouch of cheese for the nacho dispenser. You unpackage plastic cups, open up different cupboards and drawers trying to familiarize yourself before you have to start serving people. You get change from the back, filling up the register. Finally your shift partner shows up. Just in time to because you start to hear the sounds of people entering.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Your next shift was for a highschool gymnastics tournament. The concessions stand was in a large hallway between different gymnasiums, wedged between the gift shop and Subway. Since it was a smaller event you were the only one working the counter. Hardly anyone was buying anything though. The fan behind the counter gave a gentle hum, the music rather quiet amongst the sounds of people.

“You still got bottled water?”

It was that guy from your first day. You duck below the counter to grab a bottle, hand it to him and start ringing up the total.

“You guys won that game the other day, right?”

You knew they had won. You had spent your break trying to get a glimpse of the player who you had spoken to. You had only gotten to see him for a few moments, his body in the air, hand coming down on the ball sending it over the net in one fluid motion. After pulling the metal shutters down over the counter at closing, you had walked back to the courts to confirm the score.

“Yeah,”

It was here that another volleyball player came up to the counter.

“I told you that you could use one of my extra water bottles! You didn't have to go and buy one!”

The other player turned his attention to you.

“Sorry that my scary friend is bothering you-”

“Scary?”

You asked confused, but he kept talking.

“I’m Konganegawa, me and Kyotani are both Sendai Frogs!”

Kyotani.

“Nice to meet you both”

You say.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Kyotani sat on the counter of the concession stand. You liked it when he was perched up there, he warded customers off fairly well. You were certain that practice had ended a while ago, but you said nothing in fear of sending him away. He didn't always say much, or anything sometimes, but his presence was comforting to you. Even if it wasn't always abundantly clear you could tell he paid attention to you, like he was standing watch.

He knew your schedule, what snacks to buy for you on break, what songs you liked best on your manager's store playlist. He had quickly become your favorite part of work. It didn't matter who you shared shifts with, if you had gotten swamped at the register, or if you had to mindlessly wipe the counters with boredom. As long as Kyotani was there work wasn't ever terrible.

“The team is having a get together”

You had been re-arranging the plastic utensils on the counter but stopped to listen to him.

“You wanna come?”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“And you like Kyotani? Like you’d want to go on a date with him?”

Yamaguchi was teasing you, his voice trying to communicate how ridiculous he thought the notion was. You had quickly grown close to him after tagging along to a few of the Sendai Frog events. He came to every game and usually made an appearance at the concession stand to chat with you or you would find him in the stands. Today was one of those days.

“You are literally dating Tsukkishima”

Yamaguchi perked up in defense,

“They are nothing alike!”

“That I can agree on”

Both of you dissolving into laughs. Yamaguchi's face steadied and got more serious.

“You really do feel that way about him?”

He asked.

“Yes, I mean even when we first met I thought he was cute, and we keep hanging out more and more, and I just keep liking him more and more”

Yamaguchi looked ready to say something else when he stopped himself. You turned around, suddenly feeling another's company. Kyotani was right there, you wondered if he had heard anything you said but his expression betrayed nothing.

“You're on your break?”

“Yeah, what's up?”

He seemed, you couldn't find the exact word, but it was between dejected and bitter. You wanted to ask if he was okay but he spoke first.

“I thought you'd be watching the game”

“We had been,”

Yamaguchi said, jumping into the conversation.

“Yeah, the first set was just about to end, concessions is gonna be swamped when I get back”

You said, you trying to meet Kyotani’s eyes, to see if they would reveal anything to you but no such luck was granted.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You try to focus on the customers you have. A dance competition was in the big gym today, the entire place was packed. You hand out bags of popcorn, perfectly filled cups of beer to the brim. At one of the tables placed outside your stand is Kyotnai. He was practically stewing, his aura strong and unavoidable. He was making it harder to count out change and your eyes kept drifting from customers to him. He had been sitting there for a while. You thought that maybe someone else from the team would come drag him back to practice, but that didn't happen.

The last customer in line left, the competition having gotten louder, more intense, pulling people away from the food. That last customer was replaced with Kyotani’s scrunched up sulking, angry face. Normally you wouldn't call it sulking, just angry or annoyed, but he definitely had traces of sulking on him.

“A couple weeks ago,”

He got this part out fine, but the rest of his words came a little more quiet.

“You had been talking to Yamaguchi on your break during a game, who were you talking about?”

You don't know what to say. You stumble over a few words, none of them sounding right. He was so direct and challenging, you felt as if no matter what you said he would eventually pull it from you. You only managed to get one word out properly.

“Why?”

He didn't answer and this surprised you.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Kyotani stood under one of the lamps outside the main entrance. You thought you could see the outline of a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He didn't smell like smoke and you had never seen him do it before. You didn't move for a moment wondering if you could catch him smoking now.

“Hey fuckface! We going or not?”

Kyotani had spotted you and called out.

“Yeah, yeah”

You said rushing over to meet him. You could no longer count on your fingers how many times you had hung out with him. A couple of movies, lots of grabbing food after his practice or your shift, that time you found out he couldn't roller skate, that one trip to the museum. He had kissed one of the statues in defiance when you told him to stop touching things. Unfortunately for him that was the exact moment you had pulled out your phone to snap some pictures.

Today though he was tagging along with you to the store. You needed to pick a couple things up before going home. He had offered to drive. In the car, you recounted that day's incidents. A spilled soda on your pants, a customer yelling at you about their cotton candy, and getting scolded for coming in five minutes late.

“Why are you working there? Not that it’s bad, but you kinda hate it”

“Anyone hates working in a job where you have to give people food and wear a collared shirt, plus I don't hate it you're there”

That part about him wasn’t something you planned to say and you chose to ignore the seinement and keep talking.

“I’m just trying to save up money right now, I have other things in life I want, and you?”

You asked, at the light he stopped to look at you.

“What do you mean?”

“You just have volleyball brain, that's it?”

He hesitated here, it was brief but it was there.

“Volleyball brain is my diagnosis”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Once in the store Kyotani pushed a cart around while you led him up and down different aisles. You pulled off bottles of dish soap, a pack of clorox wipes. You were going to turn down to the electronics center to see if they had any cute phone cases you might want when Kyotani cut in front of you with the cart.

“Let’s go the other way”

“It’s faster if we go this way”

You tried walking past him but he didn't budge. You huff, and shoulder check him when turning in the direction he wants to go. This happens a few more times. You wanted to loop around to the grocery aisle when he insisted you lap the whole store instead of just cutting past the toys and books. You forgot to grab that extra phone charger you had been wanting and he wouldn't let you pass by the magazines to get it. In the end you had waited with the cart while he went to grab it for you.

When you were loading the bags into the back seat of his car he asked what you wanted to eat.

“You sure you want to go out? You seemed nervous in the store”

You say.

“I’m fucking hungry”

Is all he says, but you know he's trying to lighten the mood from the strange way he was acting in the store. In the car he lets you pick the music and roll the windows down.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It was a weekend morning and once again you were back at the store. You thought about the last time you were here a couple weeks before with Kyotani. Recently you have fallen into a type of rhythm with Kyotani. You spent a lot of your free time with him, with each other's friends, your lives were almost totally meshed together. More often than not people assumed you two were dating. Even if you wanted that to be true you were still unsure how he felt about you.

You had your basket and were on the way to the check out when spotted a book on display. Oftentimes you would send pictures of frogs and frog merchandise to the Sendai Frog group chat you had been roped into. Even if you weren't on the team you had officially been adopted into the group because “you work for home base!” according to Koganegawa. You picked the book up off the shelf.

They were the cutest drawings you had ever seen. They were simple and rough. Done in crayon which made them so charming. The title of the book was Frogs Go Ribbit! , if the display card was right this was the authors fourth picture book and so far the most popular. You opened up the first pages.

Frogs ribbit all day long

When they snooze and when they watch the morning news

Each frog had different types of music notes drawn coming from their mouth. Some frogs had bright colorful notes, one had notes that looked like plants and flowers, one had notes covered in flames. The one with flames had dark lines drawn under its eyes. It reminded you of Kyotani, if you weren't going to buy the book before you were now. You turned the page. Then snapped it shut.

At the movies buying tickets, during museum visits

It was you. Sure you were a little crayon cartoon but that was you. It was you and a little frog that looked like Kyotani. That was your hair, your favorite pair of shoes. It was you and frog Kyotani in line buying movie tickets. You pull out your phone and scroll back in your photos to when you and Kyotani had first gone to the movies. It was even the same outfit. On the museum page you gasped when you realized who the other frog was.

Tsukishima's frog had glasses, a figure that was unmistakably Yamaguchi pointing in excitement at a painting next to the frog. There was no way it wasnt Yamaguchi and Tsukki. The green tufts of hair, you had helped him dye many times now so obvious. You and Kyotani were on the museum page as well. Kyotanis frog sticking its tongue out to latch onto a statue while you hit him on the head. Little yellow exclamations drawn around the point of impact. You flipped to the next page.

In the trees, on the court they ribbit, ribbit, ribbit! It fills their hearts!

There was a Koganegawa frog hidden in a basket of volleyballs. Tsukishima's frog blocking a serve from Yamaguchi with its tongue. Yachi was also on this page cheering from the stands. You were crouched down next to Kyotani’s frog patting him on the head, a doodle of a heart floating off him. The rest of the team was there drawn as frogs as well. Sure they weren't wearing jerseys with their numbers, there wasn't a Sendai Frogs banner, but that was them.

You flip through the rest of the book rather quickly. The book telling the tale of how frogs need to take breaks from their ribbits, how they need to eat well, sleep well, and love others. The page with the frogs eating had you feeding Kyotani a plate of flies. When you closed the last page and turned over to see who the author and illustrator were, all that was there on the front cover were the initials M.D. You pull out your phone from your pocket as you start grabbing as many of the books as you can. Your hand finding the contact you were looking for.

“Yamaguchi, you're never going to believe this but I think Kyotani feels the same way I do and you're also not going to believe how I figured that out”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: ahahahahah I don't know why this ended up so long BUT ALSO LIL FROG THAT GO RIBBIT. And here's the playlist that I listened to while I wrote; cherry sparkling water

#kyotani x reader #kyōtani kentarō #kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #sendai frogs

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platoniclokiimagines · 4 years ago

Note

Loki has GOTTA meet Jane and Eric again, and everyone is still a bit iffy with him- except Jane who is SO happy to slap him (again) and thank him for almost dying (and then actually dying) while everyone is like ‘????? The fuck???’ And then she hugs him and Thor and everyone is still ‘???’ But it’s a start :’)

WC: 1026

Rating: G

TW: none

A/N: This was fun to think about, and to write, and I'm glad I have a couple of very similar prompts to explore this idea more. Enjoy~

“When did Thor say he was going to be back?”

Loki shrugged, glancing at you from their spot in the armchair by the window. “He just said he’d be back ‘soon.’ Which for Thor could be anytime from this evening to next week.”

“I suppose it would make sense for Asgardians to have a skewed view on the concept of time. I mean, a couple of years for me is probably like a weekend for you guys.”

Loki huffed out a laugh. “Something like that.”

A comfortable silence descended on the room, and you glanced back at the door, waiting for Thor to come back in. “…you think they’ll really make up?”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. I don’t know what drove them apart in the first place.”

“Maybe she didn’t want a snarky little shit like you for a brother-in-law, Reindeer Games,” came Tony’s voice from across the room as he came into the kitchen, a couple of wine glasses in his hand as he searched through the wine rack.

“Hey, be nice. Loki’s done a lot of growing in the past few months,” you countered, always ready to jump to your friend’s defense.

“Grand scheme of things, that’s chump change. Gotta put in the years of work like the rest of us, bud.”

“I’ve got more years of work than you’ve been alive, Stark.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You heaved a sigh, wishing Tony and the rest of the team could see what you saw. “Play nice. The last thing Thor needs is all of us fighting once again when he gets back. Especially if he has company like we’re hoping.”

“Speaking of, any word from him?”

You looked over at the hallway when Steve spoke, managing a tight smile. “None. But I guess we’ve all just gathering here to swarm him when he gets back, at this point.”

“Well, he’s gonna need a drink one way or another, if you ask me.” Nat leaned back against the kitchen island, arms crossed over her chest. “Here’s hoping it’s a celebration.”

As more and more people filed into the room, apparently all waiting to see if Thor came back with his old flame or not, you looked back at Loki, worried they might be feeling out of place, as they usually did when a majority of the team came together.

“Don’t pay them any mind. They’ll come around, in time.”

“I don’t care what they think.” Loki’s response was a rehearsed one, the same one they gave every time, even though you knew that deep down, Loki just wanted to be accepted.

You opened your mouth to speak again, but were cut off by the sound of keys at the door, and everyone looked at each other.

“Okay everybody, act natural.” Tony declared, and everyone hastily, ridiculously, tried to look like they weren’t a mass of a dozen people crowded in one living room, waiting to see if Thor came home alone or not.

By the time the door opened and Jane Foster and Erik Selvig entered, followed immediately by Thor, everyone was looking at them, and you bit back a laugh at their expressions, ranging from confused to embarrassed to, in Thor’s case, slightly defeated, as though he knew he should have expected a welcoming brigade.

“Jane Foster, Erik Selvig, meet… everyone,” he finally said after a moment, sparking what ended up being ten minutes of Thor bouncing between every single Avenger so they could personally introduce themselves to Thor’s friends.

You looked back over at Loki, after a while, confused when you saw they had sunk a little lower in their seat. “…Loki?”

“…we didn’t exactly meet, or part, on the best of terms, last time…”

You had just started to ask when they had met before, and why you’d never heard the story when you were interrupted by a voice calling out.

“Loki?!”

Everyone fell silent, and stopped to look between Jane and Loki, who looked a little regretful that they were now in the spotlight.

“…hi.”

You weren’t sure what you expected to happen next, but it certainly wasn’t Jane crossing the room in one second and then Loki’s head snapping to the side the next, looking just as shocked at everyone else that they had been slapped.

“That’s for dying on Svartalfheim.”

But before Loki could even respond, Jane had thrown her arms around him in a tight hug, surprising everyone even further.

“And that’s for saving me on Svartalfheim.”

You had a lot of questions, and apparently so did everyone else, as you heard them all murmuring questions to each other, but Tony was the first to speak up more loudly.

“I’m sorry, saving you? Loki looked out for someone besides Loki?”

“…Thor didn’t tell you guys?”

You looked at Thor just in time to see him duck his head shamefully. “…I guess it never really came up in conversation.”

You smiled a bit as you watched some of the expressions in the room change from skepticism to consideration that maybe they had pegged Loki incorrectly.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Loki.” She turned back to look at them, warm smile on her face. “I owe you one.”

“…thanks.” Loki clearly wasn’t sure entirely how to process what had just happened, but they smiled a little once Jane stepped away, and when Erik Selvig approached, you waited to see how this interaction would go.

There was a long moment of awkward silence as the two looked at each other, and then finally, Erik patted Loki on the shoulder, albeit a little awkwardly. “….it’s good to see you.”

Loki nodded once, unwilling to bring up the trauma of the past, and instead let him go on to greet other people as they turned back to you.

“…you have a lot of explaining to do,” you declared, playfully grumpy expression on your face.

“Yeah, I’m with Y/N on this one. Start talking, Reindeer Games.”

Loki heaved a sigh, realizing they weren’t going to be getting out of the conversation as everyone settled in, ready to hear the story.

“…where shall we start…”

#Loki imagine #platonic Loki imagine #Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki x reader #platonic!Loki x reader #anonymous #answer #answered #fluff #group shenanigans

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reidgraygubler · 4 years ago

Text

a different type of high (spencer reid/reader) pt 6

Title: A Different Type of High (part six)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gender-neutral!reader

Category: spicy fluff (RATED T)

Content Warning: swearing, talk about and allusions to sex, making out, mentions of dying, mentions of drug use (Dialiludid and Oxycodone), withdrawal and symptoms of withdrawal, attending narcotics anonymous, struggling with sobriety, mildly ooc spencer

Word Count: 3,637

Summary: Spencer and the team plan a dinner party to celebrate Reader’s 6-month anniversary of being clean. Reader and Spencer make a risky decision that could hurt their friendship

A/N: Oh goodness, I’m so sorry this part took so long to be posted. I’ve had half of it written for a few weeks, and then I’ve been sitting on the other half bc it originally contained smut. I sat and thought about it for a few days, and I decided at extreme last minute to edit it and make it just spicy fluff, with a rating of pg13-T for the allusions of and talks of sex. I had my best friend proofread this and made sure it was a-okay to post with those ratings! i also edited all the parts so they could be for a gender-neutral reader! so please let me know if this part (or any other part) has an issue with pronouns. Again, im so sorry it took so long for this part to be posted. anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

last part series masterlist next part

{***}{***}{***}

"Six months," I looked down at the token in hand. My eyes stayed glued to it for what seemed like an eternity, only looking away when there was a knock on the door. It wasn’t for 6 months, though, it was still my 5-month token. We’d be going to get my 6-month chip in a little bit...

"I hope you're not doing something stupid in there!" Spencer spoke on the other side of the door. I smiled before pulling the door open. He was leaning beside the door, waiting for me to leave. “I thought you’d never leave,” he looked over at me with a smile. I stepped more out of the bathroom and looked up at him.

“Nope, just going to the bathroom,” I lied, but still kept a smile on my lips. I try not to lie to Spencer, but for some reason, this one was different. If I had it my way, I would keep myself locked in the bathroom, and never having to leave again. “Do you have to go? It’s free now,” I gestured towards the door. Spencer looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “Although, I’d give it a minute…” I looked down at the ground and shrugged.

“Are you okay?” He asked, following beside me as I walked towards his bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him as he stood right in front of me. "Six months, that's quite the achievement,” he whispered as he sat beside me.

“I’m just nervous… That’s all,” I shrugged as I looked over at him, “I already want the day to be over… Is that bad to say?” I rested my head on his shoulder after I leaned on him.

“No, I don’t think so,” Spencer shook his head, “I think it’s totally valid. This is the first time that you’ve made it to such a big accomplishment… It’s exciting, it’s nerve-wracking…” he whispered.

“I think it’s more than nerve-wracking…” my voice was hardly a whisper. “We should go. The faster we go, the faster we can get this over with,” I looked up at him and shrugged.

“We should get going. It’s a very important meeting for you today. Gotta get that coin,” Spencer laughed, before standing up. I sighed deeply before standing up. I rolled my eyes. “It’ll be over faster than you think it will,” he wrapped his arm around me as he walked me outside. The weather drastically changed over the last six months, I’ve forgotten how nice Maryland can be when it’s not cold and snowy. And, as soon as we stepped outside, a warm breeze brushed across my skin and through my hair. I smiled, relaxing my shoulders slightly.

“It’s so nice out,” I looked up at Spencer and smiled. He returned the expression and looked around the street.

“Yeah, it is nice, isn’t it?” he looked back down at me with a soft smile.

“We should go to the Washington Monument! I want to see the cherry blossoms! I’m sure they’re nice and bloomed and super pretty,” I suggested, hoping he’d want to go.

“I mean, if I have time. We have cases coming in left and right,” Spencer replied, making me feel sadder. I pouted.

“Yeah, that’s right. I guess I’ll just have to go,” I looked up at him with a sly smile.

“And, you’ll have to take lots of photos for me,” he smiled at me again. I rolled my eyes before tucking myself closer into his side.

{***}{***}{***}

“I’m taking you out, come on,” Spencer grabbed my hand to pull me to my feet. I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What? Why?” I spoke, still staying on the couch. But, when he did finally get me on my feet, I yelped and fell into his body. Spencer wrapped his arms around my body to keep me steady. “We just got back!” I looked up as I tried to escape his grip.

“Because… You’re six months clean and that’s something worth celebrating,” he smiled as he looked down at me. “And, you deserve to be celebrated,” he whispered before poking my nose. I wrinkled my face and stuck my tongue out. “Please, for me?” he added. I dropped my shoulders. See, that’s not fair. He knows I’d do anything for him. And, if anything includes going out to celebrate something, then I guess I’ll have to do it.

“Okay, fine. You win. We can go out. But I don’t have anything nice to wear,” I spoke as I stepped away from Spencer’s embrace and towards his bedroom. I’ve basically moved into his place sometime over the last 6 months. So it could be our bedroom. But, it's an unofficial move in. I still have my shit in my shit apartment. “Granted, I don’t have much clothing here,” I looked back over at him and shrugged. It was just something to be planted in his head, maybe he’ll offer me to move in with him. Or maybe not. He’ll probably say that it isn’t very smart, me living with him.

“I guess it’s a good thing that there’s something in the bedroom for you,” Spencer smiled as he dropped his head to his shoulder. I raised an eyebrow before looking into his room. “Jennifer and Penelope helped pick it out,” his voice followed me as I entered the room.

“You didn’t have to get me this, Spencer,” I looked at him, awe in my eyes as I looked between him and the very nice clothing that was laid out on his bed. I honestly probably wouldn’t wear it out much. But if he takes me out to celebrate big milestones, then I’ll have an excuse to wear it.

“Of course I did. You should get to wear something nice on such a big night out. You get changed, I have to make a phone call real quick.” Spencer smiled at me before leaving me alone in his bedroom. I looked back down at the clothes and sighed deeply before changing out of my dingy sweater and jeans and into the dress. I looked down at my body before slowly leaving the room.

“I hate this,” I looked at Spencer, who was sitting on the couch, reading a book while he waited for me to finish getting dressed. He was quick to stand, nearly dropping his book to the ground as he looked at me. “Whaddya think?” I smiled at him before looking down at the clothes.

“You look… It looks good,” Spencer looked up at me with a smile. I looked back up at him for a brief moment, only to look away. I could feel a heat grow on my cheeks as I walked towards him. “Oh, uh… Are you ready?” He watched as I grabbed for a sweater he let me borrow.

“Only if you are, you’re the one who planned this whole thing. I was fine just staying home,” I shrugged as I followed beside him. I didn’t want to argue with him on this one, though. He wanted to do something special for me, because this was a big milestone. And, it’s the first time I’ve ever made it to 6 months. Hopefully, it’s the only time I make it this far. But, who knows, bad things happen to good people.

“I’m not going to be embarrassed, am I?” I looked up at Spencer as we walked out of his apartment. He grasped my hand as he led me out of the building.

“No, you… You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

I don’t know why, but all I could think about was going to a restaurant on my birthday when I was younger… And, you know how the waiters and waitresses would crowd around and sing you their lame version of happy birthday, while forcing you to wear a hat that dozens of other people have worn… Their stupid birthday schtick? Remember? Ah, those were the good times, when Mom wasn’t out of her mind. But, I don’t think Spencer would force people to sing me a stupid song and wear a stupid hat for being clean of drugs for 6-months...

“I’m trusting you on this,” I smiled at him as we walked towards his car, “no one’s gonna sing like a song or anything?” I looked over at him as I slid into his car. He looked down at me with furrowed eyebrows, confusion on his face. Then it hit me that he had no idea what I was talking about.

“No…. No one’s going to sing to you,” he looked at me, his tone heavily confused.

“Nothing to worry about then,” I smiled as he pushed the door shut. I quickly buckled in and waited for Spencer to get into the driver’s side. I looked over at him with a smile as he got in. “I was just thinking… On the rare occasion when mom wasn’t awful, she’d take me out to eat, and a lot of the times it was my birthday… You remember that? And then they embarrass the fuck out of you,” I sighed as I looked at him.

“No… That never happened to me,” he glanced at me as he started his car.

“That’s a shame, we should change that,” I smiled evilly at him as he started to drive.

“I hate that you’re looking at me like that,” he looked at the road as he drove to our destination, “Do I even want to know?”

“No, but you’ll find out someday,” I smiled at him.

{***}{***}{***}

Spencer and I were very quiet as entered his apartment. I think that goes to show just how exhausted we both were. Considering he had brought me to his friend’s house, where the rest of his team was, to celebrate. It’s not that the people were exhausting, it’s just that we were out late, and I’m very emotional.

Which was the reason why I found myself crawling into bed in just a shirt and underwear. I could hear Spencer’s laughter as I got comfortable, but struggled with the blanket.

“I’m so tired,” I sighed as I pulled the blanket over my body. The bed shifted as Spencer climbed in beside me. “Like, all the tireds… Sleepy, mentally, emotionally, psychically,” I looked at him as I pressed my head into the pillow.

“Rossi does know how to have a dinner party. Six months is a pretty big thing to celebrate.” Spencer hummed as he moved closer to me. I looked up at him and smiled.

“You didn’t have to plan a party for me. I would have been okay staying here,” I whispered as I got comfortable in his form.

My back was pressed right to Spencer’s chest, just like many nights before. His arm was wrapped around my middle to hold me as close as possible to him. My legs were tangled up with his. I let out a deep breath of air before smiling to myself.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” Spencer whispered, his nose brushing over the shell of my ear. I rolled my shoulders and hummed happily.

“Now it’s your turn,” I mumbled as I shifted slightly. I knew he was still struggling. It’s not easy… And Dilaudid seems like a kick to the ass drug. He’s trying though. He’s trying his hardest. I just wish there was a way I could help him. I knew he had been struggling more often recently. I would be too if my mentor left unexpectedly. It wasn’t fair to him, or the rest of his team. He gets to have a bit of a struggle, he shouldn’t have to though. The man who replaced Gideon though, David Rossi, is a nice guy. But I know Gideon was like his father figure to him.

Spencer let out a breath of air through his nose. His air tickling my skin and moving my hair. “I couldn’t have done it without you, ya’ know?” I mumbled, nuzzling my head into the pillow more. It was Spencer’s turn to hum. “And, I’m more than willing to be by your side,” I whispered, hoping he didn’t hear me. But, he did, because he just hugged me harder.

I know it’s only 6 months and not the rest of my life. But, without Spencer, I don’t think I could have gotten to the 6-month point. And, to be honest, I might be dead.

“That’d mean the world to me,” he whispered softly. I turned around so I was facing him. He looked down at me with a small smile. “I’m doing better, you know,” he spoke softly. I looked at him and nodded. “It’s just hard… With Gideon leaving… It just feels like everyone’s leaving,” he sniffled softly.

“I’m not leaving… And, by the looks of it all, you have an entire family that isn’t leaving you, Spencer,” I kept my eyes on him, watching as he looked down at me. He stayed quiet, mulling over the words I had just said.

In fact, that left us in a comfortable silence. My eyes stayed glued to him, whereas his were closed. I knew he wasn’t asleep though. Spencer never sleeps. I knew our day wasn’t over yet. We always talked more before either of us fell asleep.

But... something scared me. The way he held onto me. He held me like I would go missing in the morning when he did eventually wake up. His grip around my waist and torso was tight, like I was a stuffed animal and he was the owner. Part of me wondered if he feared I was a drug-induced hallucination and would vanish in thin air. I wish there was a way I could tell him, to convince him that I wouldn’t ever disappear like that.

His nose twitched as he rubbed his face into the pillow under his head. He slowly opened his eyes and looked back at me, the exhaustion of the day sitting in his eyes and expression. I understood that feeling. But, if he was anything like me, and he is a lot like me, I knew that even though he was exhausted, sleep wouldn’t find us in a while.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he pretended to sleep. I laughed lightly, causing him to glare at me.

“I’m not tired, and I know you’re not either. You’re faking it,” I muttered as I shifted even closer to him. I still kept my head tilted up so I could look at him. “You know I’m right,” I whispered, a smile suddenly appearing on my lips.

“I’m not arguing your statement, am I?” Spencer replied, a smile growing on his lips. I almost kissed him. At that moment, it felt right. Our sudden sarcastic banter just made me want to kiss him.

“No, no you’re not,” I laughed lightly as I looked at him. Spencer kept his eyes on me, hugging me harder as he tried to bring me closer to him. But at this point if I was any closer to him, I’d probably be in him. “Can I ask you a question,” I whispered so softly. If it was daylight or any other time of day, with any sound, I wouldn’t be heard. Spencer laughed before reopening his eyes.

“You just did,” he retorted as he looked at me. I rolled my eyes as I readjusted, moving so I was more face to face with him instead of face to chest.

“I meant a real question, Agent Reid,” I stuck my tongue out at him. The smile that grew on his lips made me feel warm, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You can always ask me a question, and you don’t even have to ask,” Spencer replied, his smile becoming more genuine than before. I could feel my heart beating as I looked at him. My body felt like it was flooding with a feeling that I’ve never felt towards another person… I just couldn’t put a name to it yet.

“Can I kiss you,” I whispered. It just happened. The words fell from my mouth, like I had no control over my mouth and the words I was saying. And now that the words hung in the air, I was left just staring at Spencer, and my heart in my throat.

The expression on his face told me he was thinking about it. But the long silence was beginning to make me feel nervous. What if I ruined it all? What if I just ruined my friendship with Spencer all because I wanted to kiss him? It’s just my luck though, I get something so beautiful and so precious, I ruin it, or it gets ruined. But in this case… It was my own fault and doing.

The next thing I knew, Spencer’s hands were cupping my cheeks, and his lips were against mine. It felt like the wind was knocked out of me with the sudden action. I was a little caught off guard. I guess his prolonged silence just convinced me nothing was going to happen. But I was definitely happy that it did, indeed, happen. And, I definitely enjoyed it.

His lips were soft, yet somehow slightly chapped. I could feel the moisture on his lips from when he licked them moments ago, and I could taste the tiny bit of wine he had just an hour ago. The warmth of his body made me feel safe as I gravitated closer into his body. My heart pounded in my chest, and I wondered if he could feel it against his. My hands gravitated towards his head, my fingers getting tangled in his hair.

Spencer hummed as I gently tugged on the hair on the back of his neck. The breath from his nose tickled around my lips and nose. Every movement he made, my body was quick to follow. I just couldn’t get enough of him, and he knew that.

He was gentle as he moved so he was over me. His arms were wrapped around my torso, holding me close to his body. I knew I wanted to further what was happening, and part of me could sense Spencer did too. I pulled my head away, pressing it into the pillow a little bit so I could look up at him. He returned the look, but a certain fire was in his eyes.

“Can we,” I stopped myself from talking, worried that I was even more out of line for asking if we could have sex. At least I’m asking. “We don-” I continued, but failed when Spencer pressed his lips to mine.

“Yeah… Yeah we can,” he muttered before going to take off his shirt.

{***}{***}{***}

It was honestly better than any type of high I’ve had before. Definitely better than marijuana, or oxycodone, or Dilaudid. I wonder if Spencer thought the same about that. This was probably safer too. You can’t overdose on sex, can you? Damn, I guess if that’s how I go… That’s how I go.

“Hey,” Spencer looked down at me with a small smile. I swallowed roughly before returning the smile to him. He brushed my hair away from my face before holding both my cheeks in his hands.

“Hey,” I returned the smile with a small giggle. Spencer laughed before kissing me again. It was tender and passionate with this kiss, and I wanted to melt into him. His hands were still on my cheeks, holding my face.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything? Did I?” He asked, his tone heavily laced with worry. He moved his nose so it brushed against mine, smushing it to my face. I laughed and shook my head.

“No, no, Spencer. You didn’t hurt me,” I laughed as I pressed my hands to his chest. “I don’t think you could hurt me… No matter what you do,” I quietly whispered. Spencer looked down at me and smiled.

“I promise I won’t ever hurt you,” he returned in a whisper, "and I won't ever leave you."

“In all seriousness, though, I didn’t know I had a sex drive like that…” I laughed, watching as Spencer sat up and away from me. “I mean, after all the oxy I’ve taken…” I shrugged, sitting up and wrapping a blanket around my body. Spencer looked over at me with a raised eyebrow as he stood up.

“Considering it’s been six months, you don’t have it in your system anymore,” he looked at me for a moment before grabbing his boxers and an undershirt. “I’m getting you water, do you want anything else?” He walked around the bed and came to stand beside me. I looked up at him and pushed out my lips, silently asking for a kiss. Spencer smiled before pecking my lips quickly.

“I’m okay with water,” I watched as he walked away. He nodded before leaving me alone in his room (Again, I would go as far as to say our room. But I don’t exactly live with him… full time).

When I finished cleaning myself up in his bathroom, I grabbed one of his shirts and a pair of boxers, and I sat on the center of the bed, waiting for him to return.

I realized something while I was waiting for him to come back to bed. And it’s something I don’t think I could ever tell him. Because, if I tell him this, I’d probably lose him. I don’t think I could handle losing Spencer.

I loved him. I loved Spencer Reid and that was probably going to be the thing that killed me.

a different type of high taglist: @shameleswhorehourstm , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @bxtchboy69 , @sammypotato67 , @seninjakitey , @thatsonezesty13 , @thebluetint , @honestlystop , @herecomesthewriterwitch , @mediocrity-atitsfinest , @honeyboysteezy , @aluna190

tags that didn’t work: @exilereid , @mediocrehamiltrash

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#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #doctor spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #a different type of high

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